#i just wanted to see if i could manage to get the attribution working)

[jinnie-ret]

placebo

stray kids x hybrid!ninth!reader (fem)

genre: light angst, mostly fluffy

content warnings: small swearing, mention of disease, mention of vaccination

word count: 1.8k

summary: the boys are shocked at how your hybrid features present themselves when you are feeling particularly emotional

requested: @shua-f4lmings

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How could it ever work being a Kpop idol when you were forced to hide a part of our identity every day? Well, you managed somehow. Despite the fact that you were a hybrid, JYPE still accepted your audition and allowed you to become a trainee. You felt fortunate that you didn't face direct discrimination from the company, considering you were part of a rare few, an experimental collective, of children that had turned into hybrids against their will. You see, there had once been terrible news of a new outbreak of an autoimmune disease breaking out, during your childhood, so when a vaccination was created, your parents had rushed at the opportunity to make sure you were safe. Little did you know, did anyone know, that it was in fact a scam. The disease - a hoax. The vaccination - contained a serum that caused you to experience genetic mutations and develop physical attributes very similar to a cat, all because of some deceiving scientists that wanted to experiment.

Luckily, you had learnt to love yourself and your feline features. Your fluffy black ears that helped your hearing become more sensitive, and perhaps even more attuned to music, your tail that would swish and perk up anytime you saw your members or somebody you loved, these all became things that you appreciated. It truly showed your strength and determination to not let anybody get you down, particularly when you used to feel like the black sheep, or, black cat, of the family.

You remember that it was not too long after Chan had gathered you all together as a unit, pre-debut, that you decided to reveal this side of you. After all, you could only wear baggy sweatshirts and beanies for so long.

"Guys, can I tell you something?" you spoke up after you were all sat evaluating a dance practice.

"I think we really should practice this dance again, can it wait?" Chan pondered, not wanting to miss any rehearsal time, especially since the new TV debut show was on the horizon.

"Please, it's important," you had urged them all, your future group members, not wanting to withheld this information from them for any longer.

"Ok, sure," Chan nodded and turned his phone off, before everyone was looking at you as you stood up.

"Is everything ok?" Hyunjin frowned.

"Yeah, I just want to share this side of myself to you. I've not been honest," you began, confident in yourself, just unsure about what their reactions would be.

"If we're going to be a group..." Changbin tilted his head.

"-that's why I'm telling you now! Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you. Umm," you apologised, feeling guilty.

"It's ok," Changbin nodded, seeing the weight of the situation in your eyes.

"Please can you just tell us? The suspense is killing me," Jisung groaned, whining after when Minho smacked him on the back without even looking.

"I don't know how to say it so..." you had taken a deep breath before pulling your beanie off, ruffling your hair back into plsce and ultimately revealing your ears. It had seemed like some sort of headband at first, but seeing the way your ears twitched and pointed at sharp intakes of breath or gasps in the room, showed that they were very real.

Poor Felix was incredibly confused. It was hard enough for the Australian boy to follow the conversation, and even harder to make sense of things as he saw your fluffy cat ears on top of your head.

"What the-" Jeongin's jaw dropped.

"Why are your ears moving like that..." Seungmin was astonished.

"I'm a cat hybrid. There was an experiment gone wrong a while back, masked as a 'cure', a vaccination, when really it was an experiment. So, umm, yeah, I'm sort of like a test subject.." you trailed off as Chan came to stand in front of you, raising his hand slightly.

"Can I touch your ears?" he questioned, which honestly wasn't what you were expecting. Instead, you thought it was time for him to go into his words of wisdom mode, but really even he couldn't avoid his own curiosity, as he waited for your response.

"Oh, yeah sure," you shrugged, a smile working it's way into your face as you felt a soothing scratch and pat to the head. It was so relaxing that you shut your eyes for a moment.

And when you opened your eyes...

"My turn! My turn!" Han was suddenly in front of you, Seungmin and Jeongin surprisingly waiting too.

"Wow, so cute!" Hyunjin was looking at you with the biggest heart eyes, and you could also lightly hear Chan explaining to Felix what had just transpired.

"Cute, haha," Changbin chuckled, stood next to you and observing your reactions.

"So you guys don't find it weird then?" you laugh as you ask, knowing that they were entranced.

"No! Never!" Seungmin shook his head.

"Me?" Felix came up behind Seungmin, half hugging his arm before asking permission to also pet your ears.

"Yes," you smiled reassuringly at the shy Felix.

The only one of the boys who hadn't interacted with you after you revealed your big secret was Minho, and perhaps that was because he simply couldn't comprehend that his fellow band member he had naturally grown protective over was also part cat. His favourite animal by a mile.

"I knew there was something feline about you," Minho hugged you tightly, the only one not to go straight for the ears.

"That's all the approval I needed."

Post revelation, you were able to feel even more relaxed around your members at the dorms, and wow, when they saw your tail, to be frank, they lost their shit. That was a story for another day though. You had more important things to think about them, such as the meeting that had been scheduled with the company before filming began. Understandably, in your opinion, they had found some medication, hybrid suppressants, that would hide your features. Some people would have been offended by the gesture but in reality, you were relieved. You just wanted to debut and you didn't want to take any attention away from the boys with your obvious differences in genetics. Although the first day of taking the pills felt rough, especially with your body having to withdraw physical features, you went through with it, initially explaining to the boys that it's what you wanted. Whether they believed you or not at the time, you weren't sure, until today...

"No way!" you gasped, clutching the blanket for dear life as you sat up from your comfy spot curled up on the sofa. Once again, you had chosen to use your vacation off from work as a chance to binge watch your favourite show, and finally, you had made it to the end.

"Don't roll credits, don't roll credits, don't- NO!" you cried out in disbelief. As if they had just killed off your favourite character. You sobbed, curling into yourself, ears flat against your head and tail curled up against you, like you were trying to protect yourself from the TV screen even though you had already turned it off and thrown the remote away from you in distress.

You hadn't realised that your hybrid features had popped out, not that it would be a problem as you were on break, but you must have forgotten to habitually take your tablets, the ones you bad taken the previous day finally wearing off. Even with the box being on the coffee table in front of you, the idea had left your mind.

It was long forgotten now.

It was a pitiful sight, the way you were trembling as you cried, but with your physical hybrid features also came mental ones, emotional ones, instincts that you couldn't help but follow. That emotional attachment that cats found with their people, happened to you and your favourite TV show. You felt hurt, betrayed, distraught.

"Rori?" Minho was the first to call out in concern, as the boys piled in from their outing at the beach. Yes, Rori, that was your stage name. It was a running joke between you all that Minho adopted Dori and her namesake was because of you. They weren't that dissimilar right?

"What's wrong? What's happening?" Felix called out in confusion, still taking off his sandy shoes by the front door. The boys had wanted you to come along with them, but you hated water, and would much rather laze around in the comfort of your own home.

"Aigoo, your tail is all fluffy," Jeongin patted your head, yet you continued to cry. The eight boys looked between each other in confusion until Jisung spotted the medication on the table and looked at Chan pointedly, hoping he took would connect the dots he had just found.

"Oh, Rori, we thought you didn't like taking the, it's ok. It'll be ok, we'll sort this," Chan rubbed your back gently.

"We can announce it to the fans," Hyunjin suggested, and the others nodded along.

"We'll have a word with the company," Changbin added, their plan already formulating before your very eyes.

"They'll still love you," Jisung didn't like seeing you cry.

"They won't care, you're still the same person," Seungmin spoke up, last to enter the room. He had soon caught onto the situation though, only after rinsing his feet from the sand that lingered. He couldn't barely the itchy feeling.

"What are you talking about?" you sniffled, lifting your head out from your arms and your ears lifted in curiosity.

"Aren't you sad because of, you know, having to take the tablets...?" Chan was confused, so much so that his hand had even stopped it's comforting motions on your back.

"No!!" you cried out, tail fluffing up even more, irritation flaring up ever so slightly as you wished you didn't have to explain yourself. It would much easier if these humans just knew what you wanted!

"Oh," Minho pursed his lips in thought.

"Then what's wrong?" Jeongin urged, eager to hear what was truly wrong.

"-died! It's not fair! They were my favourite and they were so kind and-" you whimpered tearfully, already having flashbacks of the final episode you and just watched.

"It's because of a show?!" Felix rose his eyebrows in surprise, leaning back to try and see your whole face.

"Really?" Seungmin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's not just a show!!!" you wailed louder, tail swishing now as you felt a mix of sadness and annoyance.

"Ok it's not just a show, we know that, chill, kitty," Jisung patted your head but Minho nudged him warningly, knowing you didn't like that nickname.

"Ji-" you huffed.

"But it's definitely not because of the suppressants, right?" Changbin cut you off, which was annoying at first, having being interrupted twice in a row, yet you were appreciative of the change in topic.

"No, no, I don't care about taking them. I'm fine with that," you took a deep breath and wiped your remaining tears away, "I just might need 2-3 business days to recover."

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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @kpopmenace143 @haodore @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @theo4eve @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse

[quicklyandrogynousfox-blog]

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Preggers

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: fluff, smut!

a/n: sequel to Racing Simulator, enjoy!!!

"Fuck.." You sighed closing your eyes. Your palms were sweating and resting on the sink as you waited for the results of the pregnancy test you just took without Lando knowing.

Your mouth went dry and your legs wobbled when you opened your eyes to see another line appear on the test. Positive.

Your body felt as if a heat wave just hit you. You were overwhelmed by a wide range of emotions as you put your hand over you belly trying to make yourself aware that a new life will grow in you in the coming months.

You decided to take the test secretly without anyone knowing because you didn't want anyone to put any kind of pressure on you. You've been feeling weird for the past two weeks and as a woman you knew something was happening to your body something you've never felt before.

The possibility of being pregnant immediately crossed your mind especially after coming onto Lando like a horny teenager that day in his racing chair. You were well aware that there was a great chance you were gonna get pregnant because you were ovulating and that very day you just had to spice it up.

You wisely tried to hide symptoms like nausea, inexplicable feeling of fatigue and headache. You even tried to fool yourself by attributing it all to stress at work, but it was only when you missed your period you decided to stop denying the possibility that you are pregnant. And now that you are standing over the sink looking at two clear lines, you have convinced yourself that a woman's intuition is never wrong.

You didn't even realize that a few tears ran down your cheeks until you looked yourself up in the mirror and blinked a couple of times. Taking a deep breath in you turned on the faucet and splashed cold water over your face to come to your senses before going to look for Lando.

When you finally managed to get yourself together, you went to the kitchen, leaving the test behind in the bathroom. You poured yourself a glass of water looking over the kitchen island at Lando who was lying on the couch in the living room.

"Baby?" He asked looking at you from the couch, but you just kept staring at him without blinking. "Is everything okay?" He asked again, but there was no answer from you which instantly made him get up and walk over to you.

"Y/n, what's wrong? Talk to me." His gaze was full of concern as he cupped your face between his hands making you look up at him.

"I-I.." You stuttered, struggling to get the sentence out. "I have to tell you something." You put your hands over his tightening your grip around them.

"What? Tell me."

"Uh..I.." Nervousness washed over you, words didn't have the courage to leave your mouth because you didn't know what his reaction would be. you didn't often touch on the topic of children even though you had been together for 4 years. You loved each other more than anything, but you wanted to enjoy your youth as long as you could.

"Y/n, please, tell me what's going on. You're all pale and I'm getting really-"

"I'm pregnant." You cut him off making his jaw drop and eyes widen. It took him a second to process what you just said before he chuckled and let out a deep sigh of relief.

"Baby..are you really?" His eyes sparkled. You didn't know at that moment, in fact, you were even confused by his reaction, but it was as if he had been dying to hear those words all this time.

"Yeah..I just took the test in the bathroom" You nodded your head smiling with teary eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours and laughed sweetly before tightly wrapping his arms around yours shoulders.

"You're freaking me out a little with how happy you are" You admit pulling back from the hug to look at him.

"Of course I'm happy. My woman is having my baby. How could I not be?" He couldn't hide his excitement and that was definitely a relief and an encouragement, but you were still kind of terrified of the new unfamiliar situation you found yourself in. "Are you not?"

"I mean..I'm a little scared. I wasn't expecting this now" He raised his eyebrows giving you a doubtful look tilting his head to the side making both of you laugh as he remembered that day he finished inside you without you complaining. "Oh stop it!" You laughed, softly punching his chest before he pulled you to himself again and you leaned your head against him.

"You have nothing to be scared of okay? I'll take care of you, of us. " His words and his hug were enough to erase every fear, every uncertainty and question mark above your head. His embrace was your safe haven, your refuge and your home where you felt the best. "We're in this together. It was going to happen sooner or later."

"You've thought about us starting a family?" You ask looking up at the blue eyes.

"For quite some time now"

"Really?" You asked visibly taken aback, but positively surprised.

"There was one particular moment when I started fantasizing about us having a kid. It was when you met Mila for the first time. When we came for a family dinner at my parents' house and then after a while you disappeared from the table and I found you two in the playroom having a tea party." Both of you smiled as he tucked your hair behind your ear reminiscing the heart warming moment.

"The way you played with her, the way you talked to her..It was so natural for you and she was delighted with you. I was just standing there at the door admiring the two of you and then my mom saw me and it was like she could read my mind right at that moment. She was like "don't wait for too long Lando". And that's when I knew, I knew you'd be the one to carry my baby one day. Nobody else but you."

"Baby, that's so sweet.." It looked like the pregnancy hormones had already kicked in because his words made you a whimpering mess beneath him. You were sobbing as you listened to the man you loved more than anything talk about everything a woman could wish for.

"Just think about us lying in bed in the morning, our baby between us. We're looking at her, kissing her, cuddling her..I can't wait to protect both of you for the rest of my life you know?"

The scene that you pictured in your head was heaven itself just like he described it and now the excitement and joy prevailed in you and the color returned to your face when you realized that everything would be fine. Everything would be just like you've always dreamed of and more.

"Now I can't wait to meet baby Norris." You said quietly giving a soft long kiss to his lips.

"Yeah, baby Norris." He proudly repeated after you loving the way it sounded. "And when are you going to let me make you mrs Norris?" He asked and you smiled shyly looking down.

If it only had been up to Lando, he would probably have married you that day when you met Mila. He knew you were the one for him. You were the one thing he was completely sure of without a single doubt in his mind. You felt the same way about him as well, but you always thought that you should wait a little longer, that you are too young, that you are not in a hurry. There was also a constant pressure from the public that you were not ready to deal with so Lando waited patiently for you to be ready.

"Now is the perfect time to take my last name." He said.

"No, people will think that you're marrying me only because you got me pregnant and I don't want that."

"I don't care what others will think. You and I both know that's not true. C'mon, baby, be my wife." He kissed you and you wrapped your arms around his neck giggling into the kiss as he seemed to propose you right then and there.

"Maybe I should accept it now that you're offering because maybe you won't want to marry me later when I'm all fat and swollen."

"Me not wanting to marry you? That is unlikely to ever happen. Besides," He says between kisses, gripping your ass he pulled you to him pressing you against his already semi hard crotch. "I can't wait to have you walking around with round belly and full breasts. Fuck, it's turning me on so much." His hands moved to your belly gently rubbing it then up to your tits underneath your cropped wide t shirt giving them a tight squeeze.

"Is that so?" You smirk deciding to go along with what he just started. "You gonna help me out with sore breasts?"

"Fuck yes baby. Gonna take such a good care of you. " The soft kisses quickly turned into more passionate and deep ones pushing tongue into each others mouth. "Turn around for me" You do as he pleases bending over the kitchen island as he grinds himself against your butt.

"I'm so hard, can you feel it?" He whispers into your ear making you shiver. Pulling your legging just below your butt, his hand slips inside your panties. His fingers quickly trace over your wet folds before attaching them to your sensitive bud. "So wet for me, fuuuck. You're my good girl, aren't you?" You nod closing your eyes and throwing your head back on his shoulder.

"Arch your back for me" He gently takes your hips in his hands pushing you onto the hard cold surface and collecting your hair into a ponytail. Teasing you with his tip at your entrance you push yourself back against him until you have him deep inside you.

"Ahh, feels so good"

"I wish you could see my point of view right now, so fucking hot." His eyes were glued on his cock disappearing into your pussy, drenching him in your wetness. "I'm not pulling out anymore, I'm gonna cum in you every time you let me fuck you"

"Oh Lando..yess, please"

"Everyone will know that I'm the one who put a baby in you. That I fucked you so good, filled you up so deep, yeah? Shit, baby.." His hands were desperately clutching at your hair while he was slamming hard into your hole. The slapping of your skin against his echoing through the kitchen.

"Yes, you fuck me so good Lando. Keep going, I'm so close." A couple more thrusts later, his hot breath against your skin and soon you were reaching your highs panting out his name.

"Fuck baby, look how much you came" His eyebrows furrowed and lips parted groaning when he saw that you left white ring around his cock taking him again and again. "Gonna play with your pussy every day. Shit, I'm gonna cum, oh shit" The sight drove him crazy, you could feel him pulsating before he spilled his cum inside you pushing his cock as deep as it went.

"You did so good, so so good." His arms pulled you to him trapping you in a tight embrace as he left small kisses on your cheek and your shoulder.

You wince as you feel him pull out of you, your juices dripping down your thighs making him curse under his breath. Unable to resist the urge, his hand slips down to your thighs collecting the dripping cum with his fingers and rubbing it all over your pussy again.

"My beautiful, most beautiful pregnant girl."

[strwberri-milk]

I heard the raphael tipsy audio (omg he’s so sweet and attached) and now I cant hep but wonder how all the guys would react to MC going on a long mission.

Zayne doesn't mope - or at least that's what everyone thinks when they see how he goes about his day normally regardless of the fact that you aren't currently home with him. He's perfectly professional at work - almost too professional. In actuality he's trying not to let the fact that you won't be there to welcome him home bother him too much.

When he goes home he finds himself more distracted than usual. He watches the clock until it's time for you to call him, noticeably calmer during the call. He doesn't want to talk about his day at all - he just wants to listen to your voice talking at him for as long as possible. He manages to trick you into speaking about your day the entire call, looking at you with such an affectionate gaze you can't help but melt under it.

He counts down the days until you come back, planning a nice quiet evening for the two of you to celebrate a job well done for when you finally come back to him.

Xavier tried to get assigned to the same mission as you in hopes that the two of you could spend the entire time together. When he failed to make that happen he pouted a little as you packed for the mission, trying to convince you to call out or do something that would let you stay home with him.

He's even more quiet at work, finding that there's not too much that catches his attention if it's not you. He makes conversation with the others at least but he doesn't seem to be all there. Everyone knows exactly why that is but they choose not to tease him because it's like kicking a dog while it's down.

He plans little online game dates for you two to do while you're working. Even if it's just card games and he has to hold up your hand to you he's more than happy to do so because he wants to spend time with you doing anything.

When you come back he's definitely a little clingier, not wanting you to go anywhere without him in a subtle manner. You can tease him all you want but he won't admit it, just saying that he's allowed to miss you since you were gone for so long.

Rafayel isn't very happy you have to go but he understands that you have to. He will complain a little despite also packing your bag for you, asking you to text him or call him - preferably video calls - whenever you can so he can see your cute little face. He doesn't want you to forget about him after all.

He's significantly more prone to getting frustrated or totally zoning out. His art always somehow comes back to you or he just sits there thinking about you in his downtime until it's time for you to call him. He immediately brightens up and is in a significantly better mood when he can talk to you again, happily working if you're there on the call.

When you finally get back he insists on making back all the missed cuddles he can. He has to make up for lost time and totally insists on doing so by keeping you in bed all day with his face buried in your chest.

Sylus asks if it's really necessary for you to be gone for so long. You have to remind him it's part of your job and he casually tells you that Mephisto will be tagging along for your safety. You know it's partially that, partially because he likes the idea of being able to see you whenever he wants. You also know there's no point in saying no to him and it'd help with his peace of mind so you agree anyway.

He doesn't obsessively check Mephisto's camera, surprisingly. He doesn't want to accidentally scare you off despite knowing that his every thought centers you. He finds himself missing you more than he thought he ever would, attributing it to the fact that now that he's had you he doesn't want to go back to what it was like without you.

When you finally come home to him he's made sure to have your favourite meal and some presents as your homecoming. The calls the two of you had were all poor replacements for your presence and he makes it known with how he laments it to you, telling you that he won't be letting you out of his sight any time soon.

[invisibleicewands]

Please come and see me because I’ll be dead soon’: how Michael Sheen got sucked into a forever chemicals exposé

An opera-loving member of high society turned eco-activist who was forced into police protection with a panic button round his neck. A Hollywood actor who recorded said activist’s life story as he was dying from exposure to the very chemicals he was investigating. Throw in two investigative journalists who realise not everything is as it seems, then uncover some startling truths, and you have “podcasting’s strangest team” on Buried: The Last Witness.

On their award-winning 2023 podcast Buried, the husband and wife duo Dan Ashby and Lucy Taylor dug into illegal toxic waste dumping in the UK and its links to organised crime. This time, they focus on “forever chemicals”, specifically polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) and set out to discover whether one whistleblower may have been decades ahead of his time in reporting on their harmful impact.

“It’s amazing how big the scale of this story is,” says Ashby, as we sit backstage at the Crucible theatre, where they are doing a live discussion as part of Sheffield DocFest. “With this series, we don’t just want it to make your blood turn cold, we want it to make you question your own blood itself.”

It all started when Taylor and Ashby were sent a lead about the work of former farmer’s representative Douglas Gowan. In 1967, he discovered a deformed calf in a field and began to investigate strange goings on with animals close to the Brofiscin and Maendy quarries in south Wales. He linked them to the dumping of waste by companies including the nearby Monsanto chemical plant, which was producing PCBs.

PCBs were used in products such as paint and paper to act as a fire retardant, but they were discovered to be harmful and have been banned since 1981 in the UK. However, due to their inability to break down – hence the term forever chemical – Gowan predicted their legacy would be a troubling one. “I expect there to be a raft of chronic illness,” he said. He even claimed that his own exposure to PCBs (a result of years of testing polluted grounds) led his pancreas and immune system to stop working. “I’m a mess and I think it can all be attributed to PCBs,” he said.

However, Gowan wasn’t a typical environmentalist. “A blue-blood high-society Tory and a trained lawyer who could out-Mozart anyone,” is how Taylor describes him in the series. He would even borrow helicopters from friends in high places to travel to investigate farmers’ fields. Gowan died in 2018 but the pair managed to get hold of his life’s work – confidential reports, testing and years of evidence. “I’m interested in environmental heroes that aren’t cliche,” says Ashby. “So I was fascinated by him. But then we started to see his flaws and really had to weigh them up. My goodness it’s a murky world we went into.”

The reason they were able to delve even deeper into this murky world is because of the award-winning actor Michael Sheen who, in 2017, came across Gowan’s work in a story he read. He was so blown away by it, and the lack of broader coverage, that he tracked him down. “I got a message back from him saying: ‘Please come and see me because I’ll be dead soon,’” says Sheen. “I took a camera with me and spent a couple of days with him and just heard this extraordinary story.”

What Gowan had been trying to prove for years gained some traction in 2007, with pieces in the Ecologist and a Guardian article exploring how “Monsanto helped to create one of the most contaminated sites in Britain”. One was described as smelling “of sick when it rains and the small brook that flows from it gushes a vivid orange.” But then momentum stalled.

Years later, in 2023, Ashby and Taylor stumbled on a recording of Sheen giving the 2017 Raymond Williams memorial lecture, which referenced Gowan and his work. Before they knew it, they were in the actor’s kitchen drinking tea and learning he had conducted a life-spanning seven-hour interview with Gowan before his death. So they joined forces. Sheen isn’t just a token celebrity name added for clout on this podcast; he is invested. For him, it’s personal as well as political. “Once you dig into it, you realise there’s a pattern,” he says. “All the places where this seems to have happened are poor working-class areas. There’s a sense that areas like the one I come from are being exploited.”

Sheen even goes to visit some contaminated sites in the series, coming away from one feeling sick. “That made it very real,” he says. “To be looking into a field and going: ‘Well, I’m pretty sure that’s toxic waste.’” Sheen was living a double life of sorts. “I went to rehearsals for a play on Monday and people were like, ‘What did you do this weekend?’” he says. “‘Oh, I went to the most contaminated area in the UK and I think I may be poisoned.’ People thought I was joking.” Sheen ended up being OK, but did have some temporary headaches and nausea, which was a worry. “We literally had to work out if we had poisoned Michael Sheen,” says Ashby, who also ponders in the series: “Have I just killed a national treasure?”

The story gets even knottier. Gowan’s findings turn out to be accurate and prescient, but the narrative around his journey gets muddy. As a character with a flair for drama, he turned his investigation into a juicy, riveting story filled with action, which could not always be corroborated. “If he hadn’t done that, and if he’d been a nerdy, analytical, detail-oriented person who just presented the scientific reports and kept them neatly filed, would we have made this podcast?” asks Taylor, which is a fascinating question that runs through this excellent and gripping series.

Ashby feels that Gowan understood how vital storytelling is when it comes to cutting through the noise. “We have so much science proving the scale of these problems we face and yet we don’t seem to have the stories,” he says. “I think Douglas got that. Fundamentally, he understood that stories motivate human beings to act. But then he went too far.”

However, this is not purely about Gowan’s story – it’s about evidence. The Last Witness doubles up as a groundbreaking investigation into the long-lasting impact of PCBs. “We threw the kitchen sink at this,” says Ashby. “The breakthrough for us is that the Royal Society of Chemistry came on board and funded incredibly expensive testing. So we have this commitment to go after the truth in a way that is hardly ever done.”

From shop-bought fish so toxic that it breaches official health advice to off-the-scale levels of banned chemicals found in British soil, the results are staggering. “The scientist almost fell off his chair,” says Ashby. “That reading is the highest he has ever recorded in soil – in the world. That was the moment we knew Douglas was right and we are now realising the scale of this problem. The public doesn’t realise that even a chemical that has been banned for 40 years is still really present in our environment.”

To go even deeper into just how far PCBs have got into our environment and food chain, Ashby and Taylor had their own blood tested. When Taylor found 80 different types of toxic PCB chemicals in her blood it was a sobering moment. “I was genuinely emotional because it’s so personal,” she says. “It was the thought of this thing being in me that was banned before I was even born and the thought of passing that on to my children.” Ashby adds: “We’ve managed physical risk in our life as journalists in Tanzania and with organised crime, but more scary than a gangster is this invisible threat to our health.”

In order to gauge the magnitude of what overexposure to PCBs can do, they headed to Anniston, Alabama, once home to a Monsanto factory. “As a journalist, you have an inbuilt scepticism and think it can’t be that bad,” says Ashby. “But when I got there I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I hate to use words like dystopian, but it was. There is a whole massive school that can’t be used. There’s illnesses in children and cancers. It truly was the most powerful vignette of the worst-case example of these chemicals.”

It’s bleak stuff but instilling fear and panic is not the intention. “Obviously, we’re really concerned about it,” says Ashby. “And although the environmental crises we face do feel overwhelming, it is incredible how a movement has formed and how individuals are taking action in communities. The lesson to take from Douglas is that the response doesn’t have to be resignation. It can be agency.”

[moondirti]

imagine being the poor soul assigned to work a serial murder investigation under detective john mactavish.

you're good at your job. analytical, committed, discrete. possessing an eye for detail that turns the most convoluted problems simple, and a mental stamina to sustain you through the more gruesome aspects of your work. but with the explosive nature of this case, in particular — the crimes perfectly suited to garner media attention, victims offed too fast and sporadically for authorities to keep up, stirring an uproar by people who feel as though you are not doing enough — your captain sees it best to place someone… better liked, at the forefront. an agent able to empathise, communicate, reassure, and flash a comforting smile for the public.

charm, you think, makes for a lot of things. the rogue scot proves to you that it does not help make a good sleuth.

his investigation strategies are inelegant. the only thing he manages to do effectively upon processing every emergency call is waste department resources. by the time you arrive on scene — because being supplanted as head has its unfortunate effect on when you get notified — technicians are overwhelmed collecting trace materials he's deemed vital (though they're clearly not); pathologists have been given information conflicting with the results of their examinations, skewing results; and there's absolutely no sign of the profiler working on branching the series of murders to one suspect.

it's like that, day in and day out. the patterns you were slowly starting to uncover come apart quick. mactavish overwrites your list of suspects, trashes 'trivial' witness statements, takes informants off payroll to reallocate discretionary funds towards surveillance tools no one is trained to handle, and is an overall nuisance when you take up your complains with him. you know this case like the back of your hand, have worked on it for months now. if he could just heed your advice and think about what he's doing before he does it, then your combined efforts could crack things open sooner rather than later.

charming. reckless. he also seems especially gifted at steamrolling your complaints—

take it up wi' the boss, lamb. there's a reason ah got pit in charge—ye need tae stop worryin' yer wee heid aboot these things. jist look at ma track record. speaks for itself, i think. say, how aboot ah treat ye tae dinner an' a private massage this week'nd, help ye unwind? ye're a bonnie thing under that issued jacket o' yours. gotta learn tae take it off, sometimes.

it's your antisocial nature that shuts you up. or that's what you like to believe, anyway — the closest thing you can attribute an overactive stomach to. in your own time, you test the integrity of his word and pull some strings to access his history. a near perfect case clearance rate, go figure, accompanied by glowing recommendations from every captain he's ever served. described as clever, crafty, tenacious.

words and numbers don't exactly do much to ease your conscious. you need evidence, a lead, a testimony, an arrest, to believe all the praise — especially with a growing list of families whose grief doesn't get easier.

still, you're quiet. more pliant, afterwards.

johnny takes a liking to your attitude shift.

if not a shaky starting trust, it just means that you don't complain when he bullies you into his car to kickstart a canvass. or as he reaches over to fasten your seatbelt for you, or when he pinches your cheek with some cheery encouragement on the tip of his tongue. you're obviously tired, still suspicious, but you let him do what he wants with little to say about it; driving from street to street, knocking on doors and asking random citizens if they've seen or heard anything suspicious.

and really, it's the final test when, by dusk, he gets nothing more than a you still haven't found my stolen car.

he waits to see if you have something witty to say about what a waste of time it all was. a comment to really grind at his gears, muttered under your breath like all the other foul doubts you think he hasn't heard.

(driving to the last house on his list, the sky deepening from pink to purple to black. everyone at the office should have retired by now, and will have expected you to have done so yourself. it's really a wonder he managed to get you out here. you must have put sense on the back burner to miss the purpose this excursion lacks. the fact that neighbourhood canvasses are only done after a fresh crime scene. never like this, mid-week, for no reason at all.)

only you stay silent.

he's glad you can learn to listen.

home is a comfort after such a long, tricky day.

johnny lets you knock on the door this time, standing two steps behind so he can properly absorb his handiwork. when simon answers, nursing a cigarette with a mean, cruel twist of his lips, he feels his heart strain a little between his ribs.

"good work, mutt." a large fist hooks under the collar of your jacket. before you know it, you're being slammed into the doorframe, knocked unconscious, and hauled into the foyer. "this one's pretty. might jus' keep 'er."

"aye, sir. easy tae break too, ah reckon."

[dilatorywriting]

59 Leona, it'd take a lot for him to admit but he would say it eventually. (Also I know you'd recognize me but I'm shy, so anon it is)

Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt 59: "People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You are nice, and you are stupid. And those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Sometimes you’re nice because you’re stupid, and sometimes you do stupid things because you’re too nice for your own stupid, stupid good. And it drives Leona half insane.

Which it shouldn’t, because nice, stupid people like you are just as annoying as his brother. Goody-two-shoes with buttoned vests and sparkly, star-shaped stickers on their term papers.

“Did you remember your homework?”

Leona flicked his tail in your face and you scrunched your nose over your notebook.

“Well?”

“Of course I remembered,” he scoffed, lazing back against the roots of one of his favorite trees. This spot used to be so much quieter, so much more peaceful, before you decided to trail after him like a duck quacking for its mother.

“Did you do the homework?” you clarified, and Leona rolled his eyes.

You sighed and starting ruffling around in your bookbag. “I brought a spare copy of the worksheet. You’re going to drive Ruggie insane, y’know. If he winds up stuck with you for another year because you failed for not turning in assignments.”

“Yeah. Sure. Another three-hundred-and-sixty-five days to rifle through my wallet. Worst news of his life.”

You huffed good naturedly and handed him the sheet of crisp, white copy paper and a pen. “Get to work, Kingscholar.”

“Oh?” he drawled, closing his eyes and settling back, loose limbed and all long, lean leisure, against the tree trunk. Clearly ready for an afternoon snooze. “Make me.”

You sighed again and reached over to flick your own well-used pen against his ear. It twitched under your fingers—soft, and tufted. The finest of the pale, tan fur brushing up against your fingertips. “Fine. Be that way. See if I bring you lunch tomorrow.”

“You will,” he scoffed.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sounding resigned and foolishly fond. “I probably will.”

See? Stupid. So easy to manipulate. So willing to let yourself be squashed under his clawed thumb. It was a wonder you’d managed to survive in this school at all. Nevertheless by clinging onto the coattails of someone like him. He’d never made anyone’s existence easier a day in his life, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now, just because you were too soft-hearted and slow to see a looming predator for what it was.

“Just give me that stupid fucking paper,” he snapped, sitting upright and swatting away your poking pen with a sneer. You laughed into your palms like a secret—bright, and merry, and dumb as a fucking rock.

“Whatever you say, Leona.”

.

.

You’d handled his Overblot with a strange sort of aplomb that at first Leona had attributed to perhaps a lingering, hidden confidence that he’d just never bothered to unearth. You were just some herbivore, and even the littlest rabbits could bite back when you put them in a corner. But then he’d come to the decision that that easy conviction was just another symptom of your rampant stupidity.

“I know you guys don’t want to hurt me, or any of us. Not really,” you shrugged around a wad of cotton—the blood dripping from your nose slowly drying up to a tacky, sticky dribble. Leona gaped at you outright.

That was your grand explanation. For why you’d been so eager to charge forward when he’d collapsed in a pool of inky nightmares and self-loathing. And the very same reason apparently thatyou’d felt so comfortable rushing forward to treat Azul Ashengrotto’s blubbering, hysterical, breakdown with the same urgency.

“That octo-prick would have ripped you in half,” he sneered, fingers twitching a nervous rhythm against his palms as he watched the nurse wrap another layer or bandages around your head.

You shrugged. “Not on purpose.”

You were going to give him an aneurism.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he snarled, ignoring the horrible, twisty thing curling like bile through his chest. “And I’m not going to bother paying for some self-sacrificing idiot’s funeral.”

Another shrug.

“That’s alright,” you hummed, a soft sort of crooked smile on your mouth. “Would’ve been a waste of money anyways.”

Leona didn’t talk to you for a week after that. Surely because your stupidity had reached such a fever pitch that it was no doubt contagious, and he needed to protect his far superior and more valuable brain. Not because the image of you smiling and nodding along to his declarations that he wouldn’t put the effort into mourning your death had soured something so deep in his gut that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to scrape it out.

.

.

When he received a letter from home asking him to return for some shitty coronation nonsense for his equally shitty brother, Leona had debated just skipping it outright. Who was going to stop him? You?

Well. Yes, apparently.

“It sounds important,” you hummed, peering over his shoulder at the neat, formal scrawl of the summons. “You should go.”

He snorted. “I don’t want to be there, they don’t want me to be there. What’s the point.”

You frowned, brow crinkling in the middle.

“Well, that’s not true,” you said, perplexed. “They wouldn’t write to you if that was the case.”

Leona snorted, eyes darting away to glare bitterly off into the corner. “Not like they have a choice.”

“Well then you don’t have a choice either,” you argued, firm. “I’ll go with you. See? It says you can have a plus one. You can camp out in your fancy, princey, bedroom. And I can siphon you snacks from the fancy, princey hors d'oeuvres tables. That way we both win. You get to be a reclusive asshole and rub the fact that that you still went in everyone’s faces, and I can get access to some tasty, royal food that I’ll probably never be able to afford again for the rest of my life.”

“Should’ve known you’d be like Ruggie—only using me for the free food,” he sighed, melodramatic and obviously put on.

“Well, also because I thought you could use the emotional support,” you added, a touch too soft and far too genuine. “But I didn’t think you wanted to hear that bit.”

“You’re right,” he scoffed, turning onto his side to hide the strange, miserable heat pricking at his skin. “Don’t ever say corny shit like that again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you grinned, flicking at his ear, and Leona added another mental tab to his never-ending list of reasons that you were really far too brainless to keep functioning at all.

.

.

You were nice, and you were stupid. And Seven, he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“My brother hasn’t ever brought someone to one of these events before,” Falena had said, to your face. Idiot to idiot communication.  

“I didn’t give him much of an option,” you’d chirped, perfectly pleasant. “I don’t think he wants me anywhere near here, to be fair. Or around him in general. But I’m like a cockroach. Can’t get rid of me.”

And Falena had laughed. Because he was terrible. And said, “I’m sure he must care about you very much, little cockroach.”

And then because you were more terrible, you laughed back and said very assuredly, “Oh, not at all.”

Which was—was—

“Do you really think that?” he snapped, once the two of you were alone. And you blinked back at him with wide, owlish eyes.

“Think what?”

Think at all,he wanted to sneer, but just glared silently and bitterly into the middle distance—fighting the nonsensical, irritated swishing of his tail.

But you just kept staring at him. Like he was the moron here. Which was unacceptable.

“Look,” he frowned, sharp and miserable. “I get it. People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you. Whatever gods exist out there were playing a shitty fucking joke on you when they dropped you in my lap. But you’re stuck with me. So stop—” he bit out, fighting that awful, twisty thing in his gut that never seemed to fully go away. “Stop talking like I can’t stand you.”

“…oh,” you mumbled, whisper quiet—that wide, startled gaze flicking away in embarrassment. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoed, sharp, and you snorted a laugh that seemed to surprise even you.

“You’re stuck with me too then, y’know,” you said after a long moment. “Even when I make you grumpy.”

“You don’t make me grumpy. I am grumpy. You make me—” he cut off quick, eyes darting away petulantly and an absolutely unfair heat rising along his cheekbones.  

“Itchy,” you piped in, and he gaped at you in shock.

“What?”

“You know,” you shrugged, awkward, and reached up to wiggle your fingers. “Cockroach. Many legs. Squirming. Itchy.”

“Never say any of those words again.”

You laughed into your palm—inelegant and a touch too loud. Leona felt his lips quirk.

“Thank you,” you said after a moment, once your giggles were a bit more under control. And leaned forward quick as a whip to press a nervous peck against his cheek. “For being kind to me.”

Kind.

Leona reached up to press a hand against the too-warm skin with a terrible, unfamiliar sensation in his head not unlike the fuzzy, white drone of TV static. And a horrible thought managed to filter its way through the floating, buzzing sensation curling through the whole of him.

Oh, fuck. It is contagious.

.

.

[unclewaynemunson]

Steve has only known Eddie for a couple of days.

He thinks back to the way they met in Reefer Rick's boathouse; the desperation in Eddie's eyes, and the fear that had every inch of his body trembling. How utterly defeated he looked when Dustin told him about everything that had been happening in Hawkins over the past years.

He thinks back to the few times he saw him after, when bringing him food or checking up on him. He remembers how anxious he seemed at all times, how the despair and the fear never once left his features.

He thinks back to when they found him at Skull Rock, how his heart skipped a beat in a way that none of the girls he kissed in that same place ever managed to do. He had attributed it to relief, back then, shortly followed by this weird feeling in his chest when Eddie embraced Dustin – jealousy, but not of Eddie, like he had mistaken it for.

He thinks back to when Eddie handed him a flashlight when he was about to jump into Lover's Lake. A light in the darkness. A beacon. All those cliches.

He thinks back to the way in which Eddie waved that oar around when he had already thought himself a dead man. He remembers how right in the middle of that chaotic battle, the thought came to him that Eddie was brave not because of his fearlessness but because of his fear.

He thinks back to the look on Eddie's face when he threw his denim vest at him, and the way it did something to him that was so different from what Nancy's wide-eyed gaze only a second earlier had made him feel.

He thinks back to the honest conversation they had in the woods; the sinister particles that got caught in Eddie's curls like snow, and his fear still so clearly present in his expressive eyes, even though it had gotten pushed to the background by then. He thinks back to their lingering touches; to Eddie leaning into him as if the concept of personal space didn't exist at all and to the warmth he emitted; to Eddie calling him a “good dude” and making his stomach float like it hadn't done in years.

He thinks back to the pure relief on Eddie’s face when their attempt to talk to Dustin worked out; to his elated smile and the way he pumped his fist in the air; to his hand reaching out and squeezing Steve’s shoulder in nothing but excitement upon hearing Dustin’s voice call out to them.

He thinks back to how warm Eddie felt when their legs were pressed against each other while they were sat next to each other on Max’s couch. He remembers looking to his right and seeing how terrified Eddie looked; his quivering lip and his wet eyes, his head resting in his hands. He remembers how he wanted nothing more than to wrap an arm around him and tell him it would all be okay.

He thinks back to the way in which he couldn’t stop staring at Eddie's hands when Eddie was working on starting the motor of the Winnebago. He thinks back to Eddie telling him all about the Munson family name; Eddie calling him big boy with a huge grin on his face; Eddie jumping up from his seat and trusting him enough to let him take the wheel; Eddie cheering behind him like they were going for a rollercoaster ride instead of stealing someone’s house...

He thinks back to the fluttering he felt in his stomach when he watched Eddie mess around with Dustin in the fields; a tiny spark of happiness while they were getting ready for what could be the end of the world as they knew it.

But most of all, he thinks back to the last time he heard Eddie's voice.

Steve? A beat of silence as he turned around, Eddie's eyes piercing into his own. Make him pay.

All he had done was nod. He should've said it, back then. He thought he'd have more time. He'd only just met Eddie, after all. Surely they'd get the opportunity to figure their shit out at their own pace, after the battle would be over.

Don't try be a hero, was the only goodbye he had said to him.

We are not heroes, Eddie had promised him.

“Then why the hell did you do that?” His voice is trembling; Eddie’s hand feels cold in his own. “I liked you better when you weren't a hero, you know.”

He tightens his grip on Eddie's hand, allows himself to imagine that Eddie squeezes back.

“Me too, big boy.”

Steve's eyes snap back to Eddie's face. For a moment, he isn't sure if it's real or if his sleep deprived brain has started full-on hallucinating at this point. But it has to be true; there's no way he could hallucinate those big brown eyes so perfectly, even though they're dazed and glossed-over.

“Was definitely less painful.” Eddie's breathing sounds erratic and his grin looks anything but reassuring, but he's here. He’s alive. He woke up.

They got more time after all. He’ll get to hear everything Steve wanted to tell him. And there's no way Steve is gonna waste another precious second.

[subwaysurf45]

The Cafe

Pairing: College!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6k

Warnings: nothing really (except for the fact that I haven't posted in like a year lmao), alcohol, self-doubt, etc...

A/N: don't get used to this...just an idea I managed to finish.

The first few times you were seen in the campus cafe it was when you were by yourself. You must have been completely unaware of the constant nail biting or when your neck would let your head fall forward in discouragement, all the signs that you were stressed flew under your radar. 

As Bucky Barnes stood behind the cash he looked over his customers should to see your head fall forward once again, the third time since his shift started fifteen minutes ago…not that he was counting. He knew it was a problem when the customer he was serving looked over their shoulder, not understanding what Bucky was looking at. 

He’d watch you go from sitting completely still to your finger flying across the keyboard with a new idea, as if you were rushing to write it down before the idea slipped through your fingers. When you’d hit your groove, not looking away to grab your coffee mug provided by the cafe, Bucky took it as a sign to tone down the stairs to see if you were okay. 

With your headphones on and music blasting the hairs on the back of your neck didn’t stand up like they normally do when someone was looking at you, truthfully, you had caught the barista looking a few times but you had no idea that wasn’t even the half of it. 

Bucky was truly hypnotized by you, and he had no reason to be. Maybe it was the insane work ethic that blew him away, always by yourself with headphones on your laptop open. Maybe it was the way in which you talked to service workers, always adding a please and thank you no matter the service you got. It didn’t help that you were beautiful in his eyes, he could stare at you for hours, taking in your attributes as if he was being tested on it. 

His stomach always twisted when he saw you pack up after a few hours. Part of him wanted to go up and talk to you, maybe offer another cup of coffee to keep you there for longer. But he knew that it was selfish, and creepy. He’d always dreamed of following you out of the cafe and asking you out, or even for your name…probably the name would be the first question. He felt like he knew you before ever really conversing with you, but the moment you left and vanished from view out of the windows he was reminded time and time again he did nothing, just staring and holding back. 

********

“Welcome to another lecture everyone,” Dr. Fury spoke from the front of the room, you were already set up with your notes, hands hovering over the keyboard due to the speed at which he talked. He was an amazing professor, you’d tell people, but he couldn't help how fast he talked when he was in the middle of lecturing. 

“I thought you were going to skip,” you whispered to Wanda as she sat down next to you, rushing to pull out her notes. It was only one minute past the class start time and yet Dr. Fury was beginning his lecture, “why can’t he talk about his weekend for like two seconds,” Wanda whispered as she opened up her laptop to a black screen that stayed that way.

All you could do was laugh before taking out your charger, “there you go.” 

Wanda just looked at you with an apologetic smile, “you are a lifesaver, this and the notes you let me borrow,” she thought for a moment, “let's get coffee, let me buy you a coffee as a moment to thank you for our friendship.” 

You giggled quietly to yourself as your fingers began to type, “I’ll never say no to a coffee, but you don’t need to always pay me back, you know I have your back.” 

“I know,” Wanda quickly responded to not annoy the students surrounding you, “but just let me, okay?”

All you could do was nod with a smile on your face, a small warmth bloomed in your chest as you took a moment to reflect. You had a good friend with you, one that you’d want to keep for a while; especially if she likes to buy you coffee. 

When the class finished you stayed back to ask Dr.Fury a question about a topic that didn’t make sense in the lecture, Wanda was going to meet you at the cafe after her meeting with her biology professor. Dr. Cho held weekly tutoring sessions that Wanda found extremely helpful. 

Before you could fully make it out of the lecture hall you felt a tap on your shoulder, when you turned around a semi-familiar face greeted you. Something was off about the individual but you knew you knew them. Even though you didn’t really remember the boy, you smile wide. 

“Hey,” he said quickly, “I love your sweater, did you see them live?” 

Your eyes lit up, “yes I did and thank you,” without thinking you grew coy, “it was like a religious experience, I love live music,” you managed to pull a giggle from him. “I know this sounds so rude but I know you but I don’t at the same time…” you trailed off with a squint. 

“I work at the cafe?” it was a question, “I also have a class in here right now so maybe-”

“James, I didn't even recognize you without the hairnet and apron oh my god how stupid of me!” Your face grows hot, your favourite barista compliments your sweater and you forget who he is. “I am so sorry.” 

“No, don’t be sorry,” he quickly waved his hand, “I know, the uniform becomes a part of you at some point,” his eyes lit up when you giggled. 

“I’m heading there now to get coffee with a friend, when do you work next?” you could see in his face for a moment that he was surprised at the question, as if he didn’t fully believe youd care enough and actually go in to see him. 

“I work tomorrow, I have a lab due tonight so that’s going to take the top spot on the to-do list,” he bashfully smiled. 

“Okay,” you nodded, “then I’ll see you tomorrow, James,” your face grew warm again as you back away, “have a good class.” 

“You too,” James said before biting his lip, you just had your class, idiot.

But you just giggled and left. Didn’t point and laugh that he couldn’t flirt, didn’t care to point out his heavy blush the entire time he spoke to you, didn’t make fun of him when he let his true thoughts show on his face. 

Bucky sat down at a seat, he placed his hands on his face to feel a radioactive heat still burning hot. He knew he’d be completely out of it the entire class, how could he focus on molecular genetics when all he could think of was the girl he was hypnotized by talking to him; nevermind asking about when his next shift was. 

“Why are you sunburnt?” Sam asked the moment he sat down, Steve joining Bucky on the other side. 

“Shut up,” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

Sam whipped his head to look over, “oh that’s not a sunburn, that’s a blush!” Sam poked his shoulder to be a nuisance, “I forget how red you guys get it’s hilarious,” Sam laughed to himself, “who got you that flustered?” 

“Ended up talking to the girl from the cafe,” Bucky muttered, the seats around him were filling up and the last thing he wanted was to have a group therapy session with everyone in his class about the girl who finally talked to him. “She’s as sweet as I thought.” 

“Oh you’re a goner,” Steve shook his head, “invite her to the house party, maybe she has a friend she can bring to make it less obvious, you guys can talk there.” 

“It’s too soon,” Bucky shook his head, “I’m not doing that.”

“I think you should, even if she says no at least she actually knows you want to see her again, maybe get to know her.” Sam dropped the joking tone and got as serious as Steve, the two of them could see how much he liked that girl. “What did she say to you?”

“I just complimented her sweater, I know the band and I know they were just on tour, she-...” his words got caught in his throat when he realized inviting her to the party wasn’t a stretch, “she asked when I was working next…”

Sam facepalm, “because she wants to see you again…” The mocking tone came back, James honestly preferred the devil-angel situation with Steve and Sam instead of them both getting serious on Bucky. “But no of course, it’s too soon.” 

The class started and Bucky barely took any notes, he was thinking of you at the cafe with your friend. His mind wandered to all the terrible outcomes of you going to the party, any outcome other than him getting with you - or even speaking to you. Both Sam and Steve knew Bucky was not looking for another notch in his belt, being raised by a single mom gave him a unique view of women; including the mommy issues. 

********

Bucy Barnes had never made so many coffee’s wrong in one shift. Everytime the bell rang on the door  to signal a new customer, he’d look up to see who it was and somehow mess up a pour or leave the milk to steam a little too long. He’d never admit to anyone how high he got his hopes up, he’d think how pathetic he was and miss his pour, landing hot coffee onto the back of his hand. 

His shifts were long and he felt like you knew that as well, there would be times during midterm season where you’d out-last him at a table while he worked his shift. Part of him always wanted to stay back, not knowing how long you stayed; he wouldn’t be surprised if you had walked yourself home in the dark more than once. 

Bucky was in the middle of an order when the ball rang again, his eyes shifted slightly when asking for the customer's name - his stomach dropped; you actually showed up. Not that he would ever think you wouldn’t show up but the anticipation was over. 

Seeing that he was busy you waved with a big smile, raising both eyebrows as you found a table. Once he finished his order and began working on the coffee he took his time watching you, seeing how you set everything up before getting your coffee. 

“Totally didn’t expect to see you here,” you spoke softly as you walked up to the counter, “how’s the shift been?” 

Bucky smiled, “pretty good,” while he was thinking of every time he messed up thinking of you, “pretty slow as well which is always nice.” 

You giggled, “I’m glad to hear, can I just get my usual, please?” you pulled out your wallet. 

“Of course,” Bucky punched it in, a simple order that was always the same. “Anything else?” 

“No, that’s okay, thank you!” you smiled, ready to pay.

This is your moment, do something. 

“Come on, let me get you something to eat, on the house?” he pointed to the small treats they also sold beside him, definitely not as popular as their drinks but he knew you’d be here for a while, who wouldn’t want a little treat? 

He could see you grow coy again, tucking your chin into your neck like you did yesterday when he complimented your sweater. It was as if you didn’t experience this often, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. It occurred to him at that moment that you might be as nervous as him, maybe guys being interested wasn’t as often as he thought, especially someone as beautiful as you. 

“What have I done to deserve that?” your voice has grown so quiet. 

“For starters, you’ve always been extremely polite whenever you order, you’d be surprised how many people think we’re robots,” hearing the giggle he pulled from you made his heart soar, “and because you deserve it, you’ve been studying here forever and you deserve a little recognition, a little something - I don't know…” Maybe he gave too much away, maybe you were thinking to yourself how he knew how often you studied, maybe you weren’t as interested in him than he thought. 

“Chocolate chip muffin, please,” you beamed and all the worries washed away, “that is so kind, James, you just made my day.” 

Before he could say anything, even correct you to use his nickname, the door blasted open. In that moment all the confidence he accumulated dissolved right between his fingers. All he could think was oh no as he saw Steve and Sam burst through the door. To think he was actually about to ask you to come to the house party, to think he actually made progress with you, all torn up in one moment.

“Bucky!” Sam shouted. 

Bucky stood still as you looked over your shoulder to see the two men attempt to squeeze through the single door at the exact same time. He could see your brows pulled tightly together, the way you were so thrown off by the loud call in a semi-full and semi-silent cafe. 

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered before the two men managed to approach the cash. 

All you did was smile at James, realizing whatever condolence you offered would be heard by the two guys approaching. You quickly paid and stepped to the side, thinking they just wanted to order next. 

“Hey, Bucky,” Steve said, “how’s the shift?” 

“So great,” Bucky deadpanned as he made your coffee, looking over to see you trying to cover a smirk. 

When he placed your coffee down you reached out quickly, managing to brush your hand against his. “The muffin?” you whispered, not wanting to further embarrass him in front of what you assumed were his friends. “Thank you again, that was really sweet,” you said as you picked up the plate. 

“She got a free muffin?” Sam whined, “you never let me get anything for free.” 

You stood there giggling, “maybe don’t almost break down the door when you walk in and see people studying,” you shrugged, “just a thought.” 

Not wanting to entertain any longer, you walked away, back to your little spot in the corner. Once your headphones were on you began to work, toggling back between tabs as you worked on your paper. The one thing you learned about James when you worked here was that he was a very focused guy, rarely ever did you see him standing around or slacking off. There was always something going on behind the counter, he was always busy. 

As you worked you could see the two men who barged in slowly shrink into themselves, you could tell James wasn’t very happy, which is a first. Part of you had to agree, it was a very cute moment. Being told you’re a memorable customer that has an impact took you out of your normal routine. Most days were the same, it would have you thinking late at night what was it all for? 

Moments like that, when you’re gifted with a free muffin by someone who makes you smile almost everyday. It was now retrospectively obvious there was something else under this offering, which was why James was so upset. To say that James was harsh on the eyes would be a blatant lie. He was a very handsome guy but to you he was someone working a job that involved a customer service persona. 

After yesterday, seeing him in his element, you realized that persona wasn’t just so he could pay his rent; he actually enjoyed the moments with you as much as you enjoyed them with him. But it was spoiled in a way, a way you thought was left in high school. 

You didn’t even notice when the two boys left, the bell ringing for another customer that rang right when a song faded out brought your attention up, seeing James smile to the customer walking in. You let yourself pause to think for a while, working through what your next paragraph would cover, but an all too familiar habit began to roll out as you watched James work behind the counter. 

Who the hell is Bucky? 

He was James, that’s what his name tag said. In what world did James logically connect to Bucky, it must have been some inside joke or story you obviously didn’t know. It never occurred to you that he was someone else to others, you had realized how repetitive you have been, how robotic. 

“Hey,” James slid into the chair in front of you, scaring you half to death, “sorry.” 

You slowly slid your hand off your chest, reaching over to music at the same time. “Don’t worry,” you smiled. 

“Sorry about my friends earlier,” he couldn’t look more sincere, “they always do this, like, always.” you just laughed, understanding how annoying this was to him. “So I just wanted to say sorry, I don’t know if they made you uncomfortable or anything.” 

“Not really,” you shook your head, “I’d like to remember the moment right before that instead.” 

This seemed to take him by surprise, “me too,” he spit out, making sure to keep you on the same page, as if this would never happen in his wildest dreams. “Also,” he paused for a moment, “those same,” he sighed, “those same guys are having a house party this weekend and before they crashed in I was going to tell you about it, I don't know if parties are your thing but I thought if you were looking for one…we could maybe, y’know,” his eyes got lost, he was losing confidence, “see each other when I’m not working, as actual people, you know?” His voice was pitched up, his eyes squinting. 

You were nowhere close to a party monster in your mind, most weekends you stayed in, sometimes with Wanda, and just chill. The week ate away at you and left you too tired to even think about getting ready, pregaming, going out, so on and so forth. But you were tired of feeling robotic, this was the time to live it up. 

“I’d love to go out this weekend, I can't remember the last time I was at a house party, honestly.” you looked out the window to think but couldn’t remember the date, just drunk memories that didn’t make sense now. “Do you mind if I invite my friend, I promise she won’t keep me to herself but I think she’d love a party.” 

James quickly agrees, “yeah, of course, of course, no worries, Invite whoever because I know for a fact those two-” he couldn’t find another word, “-idiots want some rager, I don't know.” All he could do was laugh, “so bring whoever.” 

“Since I’m going I need to make sure they let me in, will they kick me out if I ask for James? Who’s Bucky?” you laughed and sipped your coffee, slowly pushing your laptop screen down a bit to show your attention. 

In a moment you saw his face grow red, he tried to cover it with his hands but to no avail. “That would be my nickname, so happy you noticed,” he said sarcastically, “my middle name is Buchanan, so of course my childhood best friend- the blonde one -shortened it and somehow it has stuck all these years.” 

“You don't seem to be happy with it?” your hands clasped under your chin to hold your head up, your eyes squinted as you studied him. 

He tilted his head back and forth, “I mean they’re my buddies so I can see why they would call me by my nickname but y’know, I don’t mind James…” his face grew red again, “especially when it comes to you.” 

It was your turn to grow warm, covering your face as well. “You are such a flirt, first the muffin, now this,” you giggled. 

“First the compliment, really, I had never seen you outside of the cafe before, I wanted to make an impression,” he said after a while, “now I feel like I’m spilling all my secrets,” his eyes met yours quickly, “I just-...” he sighed, “I feel like I can just talk to you, I don't know.”

“I’m glad,” you smiled, “because you can, and I’m very excited to see you this weekend.” 

All he could do was smile to himself, “me too,” he drummed on the table a few times before looking at his watch, “sorry, even though I could keep talking I only had a fifteen minute break,” his thumb jerked over his shoulder, “I gotta get back.” 

“That’s all good, I’d never get my work done,” you grabbed your headphones again, “wait, I need to know how to get there, the party,” you clarified. 

“Right, okay,” James looked over his shoulder, the pen he used to write down expiry dates on the dairy products was clipped to his apron that he still had on. With the clean napkin you grabbed for your muffin he quickly scribbled down something, “I’ll see you Saturday night, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nodded, watching with a smile as you see him get right back into working. You slid the napkin towards you and saw his number, followed by the address of the party. Knowing you, you’d lose the napkin before Saturday and would need to text him.

But he didn’t know that, he just gave you his number.

********

YOU: Wanda do I have news for you

WANDA: TELL ME TELL ME

YOU: you know that really cute barista at the cafe I always go to…

WANDA: SHUT UP

YOU: he gave me a free muffin and an invite to his friends house party this weekend

YOU: and of course I asked if you could come, so do you want to party this weekend? 

WANDA: Is that even a question???

WANDA: also I need to lend you clothes for this, you need to end the night with that man oh my lord

YOU: Alright take it easy, we’ll see how it goes!

WANDA: don't be stupid you two would be so cute together!!

********

Throughout the week you and James had been texting all the time, you even waited after Fury’s class to say hi to him again. It ended up that you took the entire ten-minute grace period between classes to catch up since texting last. Conversations both in person and over the phone were easy, it didn’t feel as complicated as your other situationships and relationships. 

There used to be calls with Wanda, freaking out over what was too risky or what was too boring. Forget the spitballing of the same sentences with minor changes, forget the excruciating nerves that came in the window after pressing send and before hearing back. 

He was an interesting person to get to know, but you didn’t regret it. By Saturday you understood how Bucky could be so fitting, under the customer service persona, in his element, he’s a hilarious guy. It wasn’t always flirty, it wasn’t always serious, it was just a well-balanced conversation that seemed to continue for days. 

As you stood in the bathroom, drink in one hand and mascara in the other, you bounced with Wanda as you both got ready. Friday night you and Wanda booked a study room and grinded your to-do’s that had yet to be completed, and a grind it was. Three red bull’s ,each, later you and Wanda were ready to take the entire day to pamper yourselves. 

With no weights on your shoulders you took an everything shower this morning, feeling clean and well moisturized. You ate what you wanted throughout the day, treating yourself to the first thing that popped into mind. Wanda did the same, sleeping in until noon before beginning her wake-and-bake. 

All of that pampering led to now, you and Wanda mouthing to Beyonce as you placed the finishing touches on your makeup. 

“Another shot!” Wanda poured two shots, both of you taking them back like it was nothing. 

“How long until the uber gets here?” you asked between coughs, trying to fight the vodka burn. You downed the vodka cranberry you made before spraying Wanda’s setting spray. 

“Five minutes, we should head down,” Wanda did one final once-over before turning to you and making jazz hands around your face, “super-model is getting some dick tonight!” Wanda shouted before you could cover her mouth. 

“Shut up!” you laughed and pulled Wanda into a hug, “are you sure you’re gonna be good if I go off with James?” you asked as you both grabbed your final things to shove in your small purses. 

“Oh, of course,” Wanda looked over her shoulder, “but I want to meet those idiots and show them how to introduce a friend,” you couldn’t see her face but you knew she rolled her eyes; she found the story more annoying than you. 

“Relax with that, let’s have an open mind,” you said as the elevator began to descend. Your phone in your hands, you were texting James to let him know the two of you were on your way. 

When the two of you arrived the party was in full effect, before fully entering you sent another text to James, he hadn’t responded to the first one. The ride was short, not expecting the house to be this close. 

JAMES: come down the main hall and into the kitchen, you’ll see me

You grabbed Wanda’s hand and began to march through people standing and talking, couples making out against the wall. There was a basement door before the kitchen, you could hear different music coming from the speakers down there. People were cheering and yelling, most likely playing a drinking game. Pushing through the final group of people you were in the kitchen, and there he was. 

Two closed cans extended to you and Wanda, a tipsy smile gracing his face. “I’m so glad you guys could make it!” he spoke loudly to be heard over the dub-step music. “My buddies are there, I wanted to make sure you got in alright,” he confessed, bringing a blush to his cheeks. Three of you walked over to the two men you recognized. “Sam, Steve…” Bucky coughed, “this is y/n and her friend Wanda. Wanda, this is Sam and Steve,” James pointed to them respectively. 

“Hi boys,” Wanda greeted with a half-smile.

Tipsy and slightly nervous you jutted in, “Wanda is a chem major.”

“We’re all in stem,” Steve lit up, “I’m in engineering, Sam’s in Biology with Bucky.” 

Wanda almost spit out her drink, “who the hell is Bucky?” 

Everyone laughed, in that moment you looked to James to see a wide smile, Wanda was in between you two so a look was all that seemed appropriate. The conversation flowed, primarily about stem activities. For a while you stood silently and listened to their similar stories and experiences. James didn’t talk that much, he seemed to be waiting for something. 

The party had only grown but you all stayed in the same spot, you didn’t realize until a small push how crowded the kitchen became. Wanda jolted forward and James stepped in, moving Wanda to where he was standing so he could push back against the large group of guys obnoxiously jumping and screaming to a song. 

Your circle slowly began to shrink, Sam and Steve stayed pressed against the counter, right by the corner. Wanda snuck in beside Steve, you noticed her flirty look at him. Instinctively you moved to stand more in front of James rather than beside, his hand quickly wrapped around you. 

“This is okay, right?” he asked and brushed his thumb a few times on your waist to signal what he was talking about, you looked up quickly and nodded. The moment he saw your face his brows pulled tight, “are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you spoke over it all, he leaned down to listen, his hair almost in your face. As he bent down a gust of his cologne hit you, it had an undertone of beer. “Just kinda crowded.” 

“Tell me if you want to go to the basement- how about that? They're playing beer pong down there, maybe we can watch?” 

You nodded quickly, looking at Wanda who had moved away from Steve and was talking to another guy. “Wanda,” she looked over her shoulder, “I’m going to the basement, okay?” 

Wanda’s eyes grew big as she gave a thumbs up, “I love you, I’m all good, have fun!” 

You giggled and took Jame’s hand, he took the long way around the annoying crowd and to the door you noticed when you walked in. Finally starting to move after a while, you realized how drunk you really were. The stairs were steep, as one hand grabbed the hand rail the other was placed on his shoulder. 

Once you got to the bottom he gently took your arm to get your attention, “still good?” he giggled. 

“I’m very drunk, but good drunk!” your laugh pushed you into his chest, letting him wrap his arms around you. After a quick squeeze he pulled away and brought you away from the stairs, the both of you watched the game as you nodded your head to the beat. 

“Have you been enjoying the party?” After a while James leaned down to your ear from behind you. The smell of beer washed over your face as his lips tickled the side of your ear. Before you could respond, a full-body tingle, accompanied by goosebumps, rippled down your body. James could obviously tell you had a physical reaction to him, “I saw that,” he whispered again, peering over to see your eyes gently close. 

With his arms wrapped around your waist you slowly turned to face him, “that was like ASMR in real life,” you blurted out, your guilty pleasure slipping through your teeth. James laughed and nodded, his reaction calms your nerves because it seemed like he was drunk enough to admit it to. 

“That shit is great!” 

A burst of laughter ripped through you, your hand covering your mouth. “Imagine you recommending a coffee to someone like that,” you tried to imitate but another wheeze of laughter hit you, the alcohol making everything so much funnier. 

“You’re adorable,” he chuckled to himself, a genuine smile gracing his face. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes switching between yours, though his smile faded a small grin stayed implanted on his face. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered. 

“Yeah,” you bit your lip and nodded, your eyes flicking down to his lips as he licked them. One hand that sat on your hip moved to cup your jaw, his eyes watching your lips the entire time. As you leaned forward the alcohol pushed you a little too hard, there was no way you were going to ruin this moment by stumbling so you placed your hand on his chest, gently closing your eyes as you felt his lips connect with yours. 

It seemed neither of you wanted it to end, holding onto the moment before slowly pulling away. It must have been the alcohol between the two of you because neither of you were satisfied, instantly you both kissed again, James prodding his tongue against your lips. 

Getting the hint, you slightly opened your mouth and slid your hand up his chest. Grabbing a fistful of hair you kept him right where he wanted. Kissing him was like a drug, every second thought or insecurity slowly faded away as your shoulder rolled back for the first time this evening. Due to the lack of air you  both pulled away at the same time, giggling to yourself as you looked around; realizing how public that make-out session was. 

“Are you okay?”James asked, you quickly nodded and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, making him blush. “You are such a good kisser,” he added. 

“You too,” you tucked your chin into your neck, not knowing what to do with the attention. 

After watching the end of the beer-pong game you both headed back upstairs to find Wanda, James was more than happy to come with you to check on her. She was with the same guy you saw her with when you left, when she saw you her eyes lit up. Before you could say anything she turned back to the guy, speaking quickly with an apologetic face. Quickly, she rounded the counter and grabbed both of your arms, “I see a little lip gloss smudge,” she reached up and wiped your top lip. 

“Stop,” you gasped and quickly wiped around your lips to make sure it was all gone. “Now, who is that guy over there?”

“His name is Vision- he’s European, we’ve been talking so much about Europe it’s so nice to talk to an international student,” she leaned closer, “it also helps that he’s hot.” 

You laughed and looked over Wanda’s shoulder to wave to the guy, looking confused as to why the girl he’d been talking to all night ran off. Before Wanda could leave James came back, empty hands leaving his pockets to wrap an arm around you.��

Wanda took one look at James before a wicked smile grew, “love the lip gloss, what shade is that?” In an instant James covered his mouth, the crinkles around his eyes told you he found it as funny as Wanda did. James didn’t have anything to say back, obviously being caught. Wanda didn’t harp on it though, she just sipped her drink with a chuckle. 

The night flew right past you, you had slowed down on your alcohol consumption but still held a decent buzz. After the moment in the basement it seemed James was stuck to you, and you weren’t complaining. If you were dancing, talking, or even moving from one room to another James was touching you in some way. 

His hand rested on your hip for the majority of the evening. It was grounding to feel his side pressed to your shoulder, you felt protected in ways you never felt before. You hadn’t asked him to gently pull a strand off of your lip gloss and tuck it behind your ear, you didn’t tell him you wanted a hug everytime you came back from the washroom, he did it because he wanted to. 

********

The walk to the cafe had never felt more stressful than it did right now. Flashes of the previous night caused a lull in your stomach, a slowly growing ball of stress. 

Last night was too perfect, this morning you laid in bed and analyzed everything you could remember about the party. You hadn’t realized how long you had been staring at the ceiling, nit-picking every interaction you had with James. Even the thought of the kiss you shared in the basement caused a wave of nausea to hit you. You had sent him a text when you got home, he sent a quick reply. 

This is definitely a fluke, you thought to yourself as the cafe entered your view, he just liked me because we were both drunk. Part of you didn’t know why you were so keen to go the next morning, maybe you should have stretched out the rejection; living in your fantasy for as long as possible. 

With a deep breath you pulled the door open, cringing at the bell ringing; you had hoped for a stealthy entrance, maybe you could both go about pretending not to know each other. 

There he was, barely anyone else was in the cafe at the time, he looked right at you. “Hey,” you said softly, eyes casted low. 

“...hi,” James dipped his head to try to make eye contact, “y/n, what’s wrong?” His eyes widened in a fraction of a second, shooting him forward, “did I make you uncomfortable last night?” he whispered, placing his hand on the counter. 

In shock your lips slightly parted, “I-um, yeah I’m okay-um,” you just shook your head, speechless. “I just thought this was going to be different.”

“How?” 

With your eyes wide, you tried to find the words you wanted to say without sounding like an idiot, you hadn’t even entertained the idea of him genuinely liking you after one night out, especially when there was a steamy make-out session that wasn’t spoken about for the rest of the night. 

“I-I genuinely thought you would regret yesterday, I don’t know why I- I just thought it was because we were drunk,” you fiddled with your hands as you spoke, not wanting to deal with this any longer. 

“I need you to understand,” James spoke as he rounded the corner of the counter, taking your hand and pulling you to the back. “You come here all the time, you are consistent, you are a creature of habit.” James placed a hand on your shoulder, “almost everyday I think about when you’re coming, what you’re doing while you’re here, if your work is going smoothly, and if you get home safe. I always look at the door thinking it’s you walking in, okay?” He chuckled at the confession, “this is not because I was drunk, this was not because you were drunk. It’s simply because I like spending time with you, in fact, I love it now because I can actually get to know you; not just from your window seat.” 

It came as a whisper, “okay,” slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling him instantly pull you close. “I was really preparing for the worst, but I do really like you too, James,” you giggled after feeling him squeeze you tighter at the sentiment. 

“I know your coffee order, my friends came and made fun of me in front of you,” he led you out of the back and began making your order, without you paying. “There are so many reasons this is not a fluke, okay?” 

Taking your coffee into your hand, you quickly nodded. “Thank you, James,” you slightly lifted your cup to him, “maybe I can get you back for the muffin and coffee…” you tucked your chin to your neck, “maybe dinner would be the logical reimbursement…”

James just laughed, “I would love to get dinner with you, but you are sure as hell not paying on the first actual date,” he continued to laugh, “that’s just not happening.” 

“Fine,” you took a seat at the bar, “you can pay for the first and I’ll pay for the second.”

James’ smirk grew, “sure, totally.” 

“I’m serious,” you laughed, “let me pay for at least one!”

All it took was a knock-out smile, “you’ll pay on the one-thousandth date, and I am not keeping track.” 

[thesamoanqueen]

Beast

A/N: my lovely @harmshake asked me what the "beast mode" that journalists attribute to Roman is for me. I have a clear idea, because he has already talked about it, but I wanted to try something in a sort of headcanon/imagine, a type of fanfiction I hadn't tried yet here. [warnings: 18+ smut, jealousy, protective prompt}

Between the two of you, the one with the more visceral attitude was you and it was not surprising considering every woman is forced to fight for everything on a daily basis. Roman, not the Tribal Chief the crowds was used to, was a man it was simple to feel at ease, great listener, good manners and hypercritical mind on a personal level. He was a mama's boy, not because he was spoiled - even if it was true -, but in his ability to understand, give and care, qualities every man should have and which unfortunately were lacking in most boys. However there were moments, scenarios, in which he too gave in to the less soft side of himself and when he finally snapped, it was like facing a beast that had forgotten had been tamed.

#Jealousy

Your relationship was his top priority, his jealousy didn’t come from insecurity or doubts and for this reason perhaps it would have been more appropriate refer to it as territoriality, rather than jealousy. Seeing you admired, at work as much as in private life, filled him with satisfaction and pride, for him there was no pedestal too high for you. When admiration became something more though, that part of him less inclined or not at all to tolerate woke up in full force, pushing him to mark and protect what was his without worrying about anything else.

The overly insistent glances put him on alert, the whispered proposals in an effort to lure you away from him made his mouth twitch, but it was the attempts to invade your personal space that drove him crazy. He knew you were capable of taking care of yourself, he never stood by though and watched when some mr. nobody put a bad idea into practice and it didn't matter if there was too many drinks or an agreement between sides where it was necessary stay cordial to justify it. It was then that his hands found you, sliding along your back or pulling you by his side in an intimate touch to show he was the only one chosen for such a privilege. You would have recognized him just by the touch, even blindfolded, but it wasn't necessary because with his hands, all his presence came: solid body pressed close to reassure, shield you and intimidate anyone who thought could get over him and his voice, so soft, caring in your ears as he made sure you were okay and threatening to anyone unfortunate enough to deserve direct confrontation.

- "Back off" – the target almost never understood what was happening, staring in silence.

- "You heard me. Take a step back, two and three, all the way until you get back from wherever you came from. Or maybe you want a lil help, hm boy?"

The few who had tried to resist intimidation, even assert themselves, had regretted it the moment next, ending up in a match they could never have won and which they quit at the first serious grab as you said your prayers to bring Roman back to his senses.

#Dangers

As with jealousy, his patience reached the bottom even when you found yourself, as he said, in potential dangerous situations. Organizing and planning was part of your job duties, it wasn't often that something was beyond your control, but unexpected events happened on trips and was when plans changed that Roman didn't like it, especially if he wasn't physically there with you to deal with whatever what’s going on. A delayed flight at an inconvenient time, an impromptu hotel in an unsafe city triggered a chain reaction you most often tried to avoid, managing it without warning him or giving too many details. But Roman seemed to have a sense, reading between lines and then calls and messages began, to know where you were and what or why was happening, ending with an epochal argument on the phone when you finally confessed - even if in the end it was resolved all for the best -.

- "This isn't up for discussion! Im going to come between you and anything bad in your damn life! You should have told me!"

It wasn’t a mania, but real concern and the only reason why you put up with his outbursts. The idea in his mind of not being there when you could have needed him made his blood boil, see things more dramatic than expected. You had gotten into real problems years before, a few bad moments that had taught you a lot and for which he had jumped on the first available flight or in a car, forgetting to rest even after too many hours of work, consuming miles to even reach the other coast of the country. The beast that thundered, opening his mouth, going head-to-head against everything and everyone, turning everything and everyone upside down, had made you feel small then, but it had come to your rescue.

#Job

Comments didn't affect him, he had heard too many boos during his career to be impressed, but he channeled disappointment into his training and it was when he gave everything. For Roman it wasn't about preparing, it was about trying, testing his endurance, pushing himself for when the moment came. His returns had always been epochal events, changing the direction of the entire industry. His impact was unique because regardless of whatever people's opinions were out there, Roman had always left his mark for better or worse and he did it knowing he could. You supported him, assisted him as you could, but there was a part of you always worried it could have been too much and things could fall apart.

He had never really fallen though and if it had happened, his mindset had put Roman back on his feet immediately, proving to you over the years that nothing could really bring your man down even fighting the worst challenges. When the goal became clear in his mind, when he focused, there was nothing and no one that could push him down another path or make him change his mind. He was ready to crush any obstacle, overcome limits that he himself had previously drawn, see what others could not. Roman tenacity went beyond physical strength, it was mental, psychological, a terrifying confidence that brought out the part of him that made him so special. He didn't believe he could do anything, he knew he was capable of it and in one way or another Roman always found a way to do it, shaping himself and everything around him to realize his vision. Another species of man on another level of greatness.

- "Is perfect, take a break" – you tried to convince him and he nodded, but you saw it in his eyes even before you heard it.

- "One more time."

#Love

Sweaty body, heavy breathing, a man working hard to satisfy you.

You had your love adventures, but comparison with those who had been there before and Roman wasn't even a comparison. You had never felt so much love and lust in someone's arms, never had you felt so precious and fragile at the same time, like a flower pressed between the pages of a book, while he crushed you between the sheets. Sloppy kisses on your lips and delicate ones on your forehead, hands moving a lock of hair from your face and then sinking into the flesh of your thighs, turning you upside down as he pleased.

- "I'mma fuck my name in your head sweetheart, don't run, you ain't going nowhere" – promises that sounded like threats and made you tremble, a wave of pleasure washing over as you felt him go deeper – "you're stuck with me, quit it."

You whimpered, clinging to him like your life depended on it, shaking your head, begging, but Roman knew you better than you knew yourself and his grin always came right on time. When you felt like you were at your limit, he would increase the pace, pounding until he took air out of your lungs to kiss you and fill them with himself. Your body melted in his big hands, tears and sweet moods, climaxes following one another to the rhythm of your heartbeats and his brown eyes adoring and consuming you. Moans then became silent, pleasure intense to the point you couldn't feel anything else, you curled up giving in, abandoning yourself to his imperative desire to claim you. Only then did Roman slow down, bending you over, going beyond that sweet spot that he had tortured for the whole night, chasing his own pleasure this time and the perversion in his mind that made him go feral to fill you with his seed. Then he buried his face in your neck, between your breasts or behind your shoulder blades, hips pressed against your skin, nutting right into your soul and everything around you both fell silent to let the beast finally rest.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @sortudademais @bookuce

[luneengene2]

Enhypen Legal Line and Their Role Play When Doing 'It'

• Warnings : Contains smut content, Contains grammatical errors

• A/N : Even though Ni-ki is of legal International age, I don't want to write smut for him (Bro, he just turned 18 a month ago!💀)

• Pairings : Enhypen members x fem!reader

~~~~~

• Heeseung (Ghostface) : Heeseung likes extreme things (maybe), especially when he finishes watching a film called SCREAM. When he finishes watching SCREAM, he might immediately invite you to role-play as Ghostface and Samantha. He will get into his role well, and if he manages to catch you, he will immediately fuck you roughly still with his ghostface mask on.

• Jay (Boss x Secretary) : Jay might add the 'spice' of infidelity to this role play. You and he will play roles as if you were his mistress. He will really dive into his role as a boss who cheats on his wife along with his sexy and busty secretary (you). And he would 'borrow' his father's work space to do just that (help!).

• Jake ( Teacher x Student ) : Jake will be very excited in this role play. Imagine you act as a student who has problems with your grades, then consult with a handsome young teacher. Jake will immediately become hardened and aroused to see you wearing a tight school uniform with a spoiled tone while consulting with him to get an A+. He will have you sit on his lap as if the consultation is more 'intimate'.

• Sunghoon (Doctor x Patient) : You will come to him as if you have a complaint about your breasts. Then he will start checking your chest by asking you to take off your shirt. His hands will knead your very sexy breasts. And it ends with you giving him head for his dick because he said 'Sucking dick can relieve your pain, Miss' (Sunghoon could act silly, even when he was making love).

• Sunoo (Mafia Boss x Stripper) : I think Sunoo will look for references to role playing with you in novels or Wattpad. And the choice fell on Mafia Boss x Stripper. He will rent a room in a nightclub to have this sex with you. Making you dance for him on a slender pole in skimpy clothes, as if hiring you to be his entertainer. He will also insert money into your ass, pussy and breasts to make the role deeper before actually fucking you.

• Jungwon (Police x Prisoner) : This reminds me of the Paradoxx Invasion era, when Jungwon wore police clothes when appearing on music shows. He will fuck you as a cop because you have escaped from prison (his room). Saying that you will never be able to escape from his prison as long as he still 'guards' prisoners like you. He even wears full attributes, and a toy gun that is quite similar to a real gun to add to his sexy impression as a police officer.

[heich0e]

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical traits, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

And a week after that terrible storm, Megumi pulls on his coat, locks up the clinic for the night, and heads to the nearby izakaya.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know her.”

Megumi deflates a little, leaning forward onto his elbows atop the service counter at the izakaya. The young man behind the bar looks sincerely apologetic that he can’t be of more help to him, a remorseful frown tugging at the corner of his lips.

“That’s fine,” Megumi says, smothering his burgeoning disappointment as best he can—blanketing it in a familiar air of indifference. “It was years ago.”

He’d asked for you when he arrived at the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant, having weaselled your family name out of Yuuji who’d in turn pressed Nanami for it—the elder man deeming a simple name suitably fair to share since it wasn’t particularly personal information, not least of all because he’s seemingly incapable of denying Yuuji anything he asks for. But the server who Megumi approached when he first arrived at the neighbourhood izakaya, the same establishment he’d visited with the old man all those years ago that hasn’t changed a bit since that day, didn’t seem to have any knowledge of you ever working there.

“I’ve only been here for a year,” the young man says, ruffling the back of his cropped hair sheepishly and glancing down the bar in the direction of the busy kitchen. “I could ask around, though? See if someone—”

“No, that’s alright,” Megumi cuts him off, bowing stiffly in his direction with his arms pinned down at his sides. “You’ve done more than enough. Thank you for your time.”

Megumi swiftly turns and heads in the direction of the door, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The izakaya is noisy around him as he crosses the restaurant towards the exit, full of people unwinding after a long day of work, sharing food and drinks and talking too loudly just to be heard over the cacophonous din. He’s never really liked the overly-boisterous atmosphere of these kinds of places, which is why he’s always preferred to drink at home—but every so often Yuuji or Nobara manages to draw him into an evening out at bars just like this one.

The man just wants to get back to his little apartment where he can enjoy some peace and quiet, and nurse the nagging feeling of disappointment he feels prickling in his hollow chest.

He’s only a few doors up the road from the building, making his way back in the direction of home, when he hears a ruckus behind him.

“Excuse me!… Excuse me, sir!”

Megumi pauses in his stride and glances back over his shoulder in the direction of the shouting, only to see the young man from behind the bar racing up the sidewalk towards him with his apron strings flapping in his haste. He’s a little winded by the time he reaches Megumi, hunching forward with his hands braced on his thighs atop the overhang of his apron as he struggles to catch his breath.

“The cook… said…” 

Megumi can barely understand what the boy is trying to say to him. He’s a little concerned by how out of breath he is, too. After a few more seconds of panting heavily, the young man looks up. 

“The cook said he knew her. The girl you’re looking for.”

Megumi’s eyes widen, his stomach doing an unpleasant little somersault in his core.

The server stands up straight, swallowing thickly. He’s more composed now after his sprint. He gives Megumi your name, your full name—both given and family—and Megumi recognizes it. “He said a student with that name worked here a few years ago, but she left when she got pregnant.”

Megumi’s hands clench into fists in the pockets of his coat.

The young man looks a bit sheepish. “I hope this helps. I don’t know if you remember, but you took good care of my family’s dog a few years ago at your clinic. I… wanted to repay you.” He bows earnestly in the vets direction, a full bend at his waist.

Megumi thinks he might vaguely remember him, though his hair was longer, he didn’t have the piercings in his ears, and his cheeks were rounder with baby fat back then. “Shino-kun?”

The boy lifts his head and nods eagerly, perking up at the recognition. 

His family had an inordinately rotund dachshund named Vienna. Like the sausage. 

“Thank you for your help,” Megumi says to him, and he means it. 

Shino nods in recognition of the thanks.

Megumi moves to leave, but pauses. “The cook… does he have her contact info?” 

The boy shakes his head, and Megumi feels that same flare of disappointment swell with renewed vigour, staring down at his feet on the pavement as he tries not to let it show. He supposes it would be strange to get that kind of information from him anyway. For all intents and purposes, he’s just some stranger trying to track a woman down, who in their right mind would—

“He said the last he heard she was working at the family restaurant a few blocks away, near the park—”

Megumi’s eyes snap up towards the server again.

“—do you know the one?” 

Yes. He does.

The old man used to take him there sometimes for lunch when he was still working at the clinic, because Megumi had a tendency to skip his midday meal. The waitresses all knew the old man by name, and he’d told Megumi that he and his wife had their first date in that very restaurant decades prior. It’s an ancient little spot that’s been there for far longer than Megumi’s lived in the neighbourhood. 

And he just so happens to have to pass it on his way back home.

The neon sign that hangs over the old family restaurant paints the evening street in its glow as Megumi stands outside the diner.

It’s late; encroaching on an hour that Nobara would affectionately call ‘past his bedtime’ since Megumi tends as a matter of habit to be a man who’s early to bed and early to rise. But regardless of the hour, Megumi can’t seem to make his feet carry him any further. Neither back to his home, nor through the business’s door.

Through one of the windows, past the reflective fluorescence from the lights outside, he sees you.

You’re standing at a table by the window, chatting with a couple whose meal you’ve just served. You have a smile on your face, but it’s not quite the smile that Megumi remembers—neither as bright, nor as carefree as the one in his memory. You don’t look the same either.

You’re older than you were back then—though certainly still not old by any means—but he supposes that’s only natural given how much time has passed since that first night he met you. He didn’t look at you properly that night you came to the clinic. Didn’t take the time to really observe you. All he can really remember is how soaking wet you were, and how you didn’t want to meet his gaze.

You meet it now.

You catch sight of him through the window just before you leave your patrons to enjoy their meal, and even from a distance Megumi can see the way your expression changes. He can see how startled you look as you catch sight of him.

You’re not wrong to look surprised, and he can’t help but blame you. He’s some man you’ve met twice now, the instances half a decade apart, who’s managed to track down your place of employment. But at the same time, Megumi can’t help but think that there’s a greater anxiety that underlies your wide-eyed expression—a more considerable fear that’s palpable, even from so far away.

You appear outside, wrapped up in a puffy jacket, a few minutes later.

“Hello, Fushiguro-san,” you greet him quietly, bowing a bit awkwardly in his direction.

He returns the greeting with your own name, and you look surprised that he knows it.

“What brings you here at this time of night?”

“Where’s Kota?” Megumi ignores your question in favour of one of his own.

Your lips pull into a thin line at the mention of your son.

“The obaachan who lives next door to us watches Kota when I work nights,” you say, and your tone is colder now. Sharpened like a blade you wield in defence.

An unpleasant silence wraps around you both, the discomfort and the tension of it nipping at your heels and urging you to run.

“That’s a lot of work for an old woman.”

“She’s happy to do it. Her children have all moved away,” you seem to only very narrowly be keeping resentment from your shaking voice.

“Why doesn’t Kota’s father watch him?” Megumi asks, and his gaze is level and unyielding as it meets your own.

Your jaw sets, and a flare of something white-hot and protective kindles behind your eyes. 

“He can’t.”

A car passes on the street behind Megumi, but neither of you pay it any mind.

“Why?"

“He’s busy.”

“Too busy to take care of his own child?” Megumi isn’t trying to sound so angry, but the emotion makes itself known in his voice without even trying. He doesn’t mean to antagonize you like this. It’s not what he came here to do. But he can’t seem to force himself to be direct with you.

“Yes.”

“Doing what?” Megumi presses again, unrelenting in his pursuit.

“Drop it,” you tell him warningly, hissing the caution through your teeth.

He doesn’t heed your words.

“Where is Kota’s father?” he asks one final time, and it’s the question that makes the fraying thread of your patience finally snap.

“Bothering me outside my place of work,” you hiss, your eyes narrowed and resentful. “Is that what you came here for? Are you happy now?”

Happy?

Megumi feels sick to his stomach, an almighty fwoosh wracking through him that makes him go week at the knees and threatens to make him heave up the meagre contents of his stomach in front of you, and this street, and anyone who has the misfortune of a window seat in the diner behind you. But he feels worse still when he sees the way tears are welling quickly in your eyes. When he spots the way you’re trembling.

You’re frightened.

Of him.

“Please,” you soften noticeably before his eyes, like he watches all your will to fight with him abandon you in real time. The deflation leaves you desperate when you speak again, crumpling in on yourself. You step up to him slightly, grabbing the sleeve of his coat as you plead to him. “Just go. Forget this ever happened. I don’t want anything from you. We don’t want anything from you. I-I take good care of him; he’s happy and healthy and we’re fine. I’m sorry that you found out like this, but I promise if you just leave now you don’t ever have to think of him—things can go back to how they were, and I’ll make sure we never cross paths again.”

Megumi tastes bile creeping up at the back of his too-tight throat, and his vision has gone fuzzy at the edges like he’s watching everything unfold through a tunnel.

All he can think about it the little boy with the bunny hidden under his raincoat. The racoon on his sweatshirt. The way he clung to him in his sleep.

“He’s my son?”

You pause, still holding tight to Megumi’s coat sleeve.

“Yes,” you reply quietly. “He is.”

He searches your face for any sign of duplicity, but he knows the truth. He knew it before you said it. Knew it from the moment he woke up in that cold sweat.

“You’re certain?”

He doesn’t pose the question with any ill-intent. Hardly conscious of the fact he’s asking it at all, or what the implications of such a question might be.

You flinch anyway.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Another car passes.

“He’s my son.” This time it’s not a question, but the words are brittle and breathless as Megumi speaks them. His chest aches, his head is pounding.

You’re still clutching his sleeve.

From behind you, at the corner of the building that leads to a narrow alley, a man in a stained apron with a cigarette in his hand calls your name. You whirl around in surprise.

“Break’s over!” he calls to you with a hand clasped around his mouth. He eyes you and Megumi warily, as though assessing whether or not he needs to intervene.

“Coming!” you call back to him with a blatantly forced chipper tone, waving at him with a strained smile on your face.

You turn back to Megumi, and let his sleeve slip from your grasp. The fake smile withers slowly until it disappears altogether.

“Please,” you repeat to him one last time, quieter now that the line cook is still lingering nearby, but no less desperate. “Just forget about this. About us.”

You turn to head back towards the restaurant, and Megumi lets you go.

Until he doesn’t.

“Wait.”

You freeze, but you don’t turn to face him again. He can see the way you hold yourself around your midsection, your shoulders slightly hunched forward like you’re bracing yourself for something.

“Come to the clinic tomorrow.”

“I work tomorrow.”

“Then come before you work. Or after,” Megumi can’t help but sound irritated at your refusal. He has a right to ask you more questions. To get more answers.

You glance at him over your shoulder, and you look wary.

“Kota goes to daycare at 8. It’s not far,” you say, though your tone is reluctant. “I can come just after that.”

The clinic doesn’t open until 9, so that works for him.

He nods curtly in agreement, and then you do the same.

The cook calls your name again.

You step towards the restaurant.

“The bunny’s doing well.”

You pause in your stride and turn back to Megumi with a look of surprise on your face—the most open, and least defensive expression he’s seen since the two of you began speaking.

Megumi struggles to meet your gaze now, and looks away briefly. He stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“You can… tell Kota that. If you want.” He glances fleetingly towards you, just in time to see the ghost of a smile flicker at he corner of your lips.

“I will,” you reply quietly. “He’ll be happy to hear that. Thank you, Fushiguro-san.”

Megumi watches as you skitter back towards the restaurant, bowing apologetically to the cook as you head quickly down the alley towards what Megumi can only assume is the staff entrance.

He turns on his heel on the sidewalk and heads in the direction of home, ignoring the gaze of your colleague as he walks away.

A son.

He has a son.

A little boy who looks just like him.

A little boy named Kota.

Megumi still feels sick, and his head is spiralling with a hundred questions he can’t begin to understand how to parse through in a coherent way. A hundred things he never dreamed he’d need to know. Never wanted to.

But he’ll see you tomorrow at 8AM, so as long as he makes sense of at least a few of the unintelligible questions running through his mind by then, he’ll finally have the chance to get some answers.

[messysketchyobeyme]

How to Woo a Human: Chapter 2

[Chapter 1], [Chapter 2]

Satan/Reader

(Nightbringer Spoilers)

Summary:

"Different humans have different love languages. Taking advantage of a human’s love language will allow you to gain their trust, which can be used to manipulate them easier."

As long as Satan ignored the parts about deception and manipulation and focused on the affection part, he was certain he could change himself into someone who would be worthy of love.

He would make sure of it.

—

Satan highlighted (with a magic disappearing highlighter; he would never defile a book) the first love language he saw: words of affirmation.

Reading the passage over, it seemed like he just had to compliment you. That was simple enough. There were so many things Satan could compliment you about.

You were kind, brave, funny, adventurous, and smart. He adored the way your nose would wrinkle whenever you were trying to quell your reaction to a strange smell or to whatever his ludicrous brothers were doing at the moment. He loved how you were quick on your feet, always coming up with a plan to get them out of any situation you guys found yourselves in. He admired your sorcery skills. He had never met anyone who could make Lucifer of all demons stumble like that. 

Honestly, Satan could go on and on about you.

And that was the problem. Satan couldn’t ramble on like a fool in front of you. What would you think? That he was as brainless and dim-witted as Mammon? No. He had to plan this out carefully, lest you think less of him.

Satan took out a pencil and notepad and jotted down some more of your attributes. While it was easy to get the broad strokes of your personality on paper, Satan found himself focusing on the minute details.

The way you would scrunch your eyebrows whenever you were concentrating on something, how you would go slightly cross-eyed from boredom whenever Lucifer lectured you, or the way you’d bite your lips when you were excited but wanted to hide it.

Skimming over what he had written down, Satan realized that he was starting to sound deranged. What was he supposed to do with these notes? Waltz up to you and say he likes the way your eyebrows wriggle? 

No, no, no, no. This was stupid. What was the first thing he wrote about you? You were kind?

Yeah, that could work. He could compliment your thoughtfulness. That was a normal thing to say to someone. 

Satan scribbled some more words of endearment on a set of index cards and stuffed them up his sleeves. They were just for reference. That was all.

Wiping off his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants, Satan stood up and left his bedroom. Leviathan had invited you to the House of Lamentation to play some games. That gave him the perfect time to strike. 

He stepped up to Leviathan’s door and placed his ear against it. Muffled noises. Hm.

Satan knocked on the door.

The noises stopped. Then, muffled whispers. Eventually, they stopped and someone opened the door.

“Satan? What are ya doin’ here?” Mammon asked. His voice was always a little too loud for Satan’s liking.

Satan peered behind Mammon. Leviathan and you were sitting across from each other with a board game lying between you two. Leviathan was too busy staring at the game and presumably strategizing to notice him. You smiled at Satan and waved.

Satan waved back. “I want to play, uhh…” He snuck another quick look behind Mammon. “Devilopoly,” he concluded after seeing the game pieces. 

That seemed to get Leviathan’s attention. “No!” Satan shriveled back while Leviathan tossed his hands up to explain. “No, I mean, I want you to play with us, but I’ve been doing so well!” He picked up his play money, which, to his credit, was quite a bit. “I managed to buy all of the big properties!”

“Oh, be quiet, Levi. Let Satan play. We can start over,” you said, clearing the board.

“You only want to start over because you’re in jail!” Leviathan pouted.

You shrugged impishly. Mammon shook his head and opened the door wider. “C’mon Satan. We could always use another player.”

“Thank you,” Satan said quietly before stepping inside.

“So, how much are ya willin’ to bet? We can start from a hundred Grimm and go from there.”

Never mind. Satan felt foolish to have even glanced in that sorry excuse of a demon’s direction.

“Ignore him, Satan. We’re not doing bets,” you said, patting the empty space next to you. “Come here and sit. You can choose between the shoe, the racket, or the demon horns.”

Satan chose the shoe.

Leviathan exhaled loudly through his nose, while Mammon sat down next to him. “Seriously, Levi? What are ya? Five?”

“Be quiet, Mammon.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. You handed the dice to Satan. “Here, you can go first.”

As he held out his hand, Satan sneakily peaked at one of the index cards hidden under his sleeve. He forced himself to make eye contact with you before saying, “Thank you. It was nice of you to let me go first.” Satan cringed at how robotic he sounded.

You gave him a look but didn’t dwell on it. “You’re welcome.”

Satan rolled the dice before throwing it on the board. Each die bounced once before flying off into two different directions.

Mammon yelped. “Hey, man, no need to be so aggressive with it!”

You pinched Mammon’s side, causing him to yelp, again. “Be nice, okay?” 

Satan’s face burned uncomfortably. He didn’t think he threw them that hard.

While Mammon busied himself with aggressive nodding, Leviathan stood up and peered at the dice. “Six,” he said before scooping them up and bringing them back to Satan.

Satan moved six spots, landing on the one with an image of the Akuber logo on it. “I’ll buy it,” he said, handing over his fake cash to you, the banker. He also gave the dice to you. He wanted an ample amount of opportunities to compliment you.

“Thanks, Satan.” You quickly rolled the dice and tossed it on the board. Eight. You began moving your piece, landing on a Chance spot. Picking up the card, you quirked up your lip but that was all your expression betrayed. You placed the card face down next to you. 

Satan tried to casually place his hand on his arm. He felt the index cards through his sleeve. “That was…” His voice started off too quiet, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “That was a smart play. You’re good at this game.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Well, it was mainly just luck.”

Dammit. Not even a thank you this time.

Your attention was quickly captured by Mammon. It was his turn now, and he was shaking the dice in his cupped hands with all of his might. Mammon’s eyes were squeezed shut, and he was muttering “Boxcars…boxcars…” under his breath. He ended up rolling snake eyes.

Satan scratched at his knee. What was he doing wrong? He had already paid you two compliments, but you were no closer to falling for him than before. In fact, you seemed to be a little distant. Was Satan really that unlovable?

Gah, he was beginning to sound like Leviathan. That was disgusting in of itself.

The game continued on with Satan peppering you with the occasional complement. Each time, you would chuckle awkwardly or give him a half hearted thanks. Even Leviathan and Mammon were beginning to cast wary looks in his direction. Satan’s chest felt tight. 

What was he doing? Why would Satan ever think a couple of compliments would ever win your heart? Or convince you that he wasn’t the grotesque monster he feared he was? Satan swallowed thickly. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t belong here. He needed to—

Something melodious filled the air, and Satan perked his head up to see you laughing. You were clutching your chest as you tried to catch your breath. “I–I can’t believe this is your…your third time going to jail!” you managed to choke out. “What are the odds?”

Leviathan scowled, his arms crossed. “Shut up! It’s not funny!” 

You tossed your head back slightly as you continued to giggle at Leviathan’s misfortune. The blue overhead lights caught your eyelashes just so, causing the tiny droplets of tears that clung to them to sparkle. Your eyebrows scrunched together the same way they would whenever you would focus on something. Satan made a mental note to update his list. 

Your grin stretched across your face, and it seemed to have lit up the entire room. At the very least, it ignited a fire deep within Satan’s very core. Now, his face was heating up for an entirely different reason. He didn’t understand how one human could look so captivating. You were perfect—wonderful inside and out. 

In a daze, Satan managed to breathe out a quiet, “You have a beautiful smile.”

You stopped laughing and turned to look at him with a wide-eyed stare. Your cheeks were still glowy, and your eyes were slightly dewy. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, but they quelled down once he noticed your expression. 

Satan had a hard time pinning it down. It didn’t seem unpleasant, per se, but it wasn’t looking all too positive, either. Did he say something wrong? A hasty apology was about to spill out of him when you began to speak.

“Uh, thank you, Satan,” you said, looking away. You bit your lip while staring at the gamer controller piece that was currently in the jail spot on the board. “I, ah, appreciate it. Truly.” A tiny, wobbly smile managed to sneak its way onto your face.

If Satan didn’t know better, he would have said you looked bashful. Or flustered. Or…

Satan blinked. 

Oh.

That one worked. 

Now, the butterflies seemed to have increased tenfold. The buzzing sensation throughout his body was becoming too much to bear. He couldn’t take this. 

Satan leapt up. “This game is boring,” he said quickly, “I don’t want to play anymore.” With that, Satan strode over to Leviathan’s door and ignored all three of your protests before leaving the room.

Satan made sure to slam Leviathan’s door shut before pressing himself to the wall. He slowly slid down to the floor and pressed his forehead against his knees. He silently begged his heart to slow down, but it wasn’t working.

All Satan did was say that your smile looked nice. Why did you react like…like that? Why were you acting like he had gotten on one knee and asked you to marry him right then and there? You were always so composed, and he had never seen you flustered before in his (admittedly short) life. So, why did that one teensy tiny compliment get such a big reaction out of you?

The door next to Satan creaked open, and he glanced up to see you smiling down at him.

“Hey, Satan,” you said, “Are you sure you don’t want to keep playing?” 

“I’m sure,” he mumbled against his hand.

“Oh, okay. Just let us know if you want to join in, again, alright?”

“I will,” he said.

You flashed him that awful, wonderful grin of yours. “Perfect.” You momentarily disappeared behind Leviathan’s door before peaking your head out. “By the way, I thought it was cute how you wrote…notes about me.” With a flick of your wrist, you revealed an index card—Satan’s index card—in between your index and forefinger. “You know, if you think my eyebrows are charming, you could have just told me.”

Satan scrambled up to his feet and snatched his index card from you. He stuffed it in his back pocket while swearing under his breath. “How did you—”

“It fell out of your sleeve when you left.” You leaned in closer. “Don’t worry. I didn’t let Levi or Mammon read it.”

Satan wanted to die. He managed to stutter out something that could have been akin to a ‘thanks,’ but he knew his words were too twisted around to be understood properly.

You let out a soft giggle before catching Satan’s eye. He stopped breathing for a moment. “Bye, Satan,” you said before closing Leviathan’s door.

Ugh. Satan hid his face in his hands. It was truly unfortunate he was utterly infatuated with you.

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey girl....before saying anything else.... i think that your fics are the best... like they are so well written... can you write something fluff about kenan yildiz x reader where they're married and she is like constantly sick and dizzy because she is pregnant and something happens and they find out they're going to have a baby....?

SURPRISE ADDITION - KENAN YILDIZ

After fainting at work, and being taking to the hospital, you and kenan end up getting some news

Kenan Yildiz x pregnant! reader

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I had been feeling off for weeks. It started with occasional dizziness, which I brushed off as exhaustion from work.

But then came the nausea and the constant fatigue. Kenan noticed my waning energy and growing irritability, but I dismissed his concerns, attributing it all to stress.

One evening, while I was at work, staring at my computer screen, when the room started to spin. I gripped the edge of my desk, willing the dizziness to pass, but it only got worse.

I tried to stand, but my legs felt like jelly. The last thing I remembered was my colleague's concerned face before everything went black.

When I came to, I was lying on the floor with a small crowd gathered around me. Someone had called an ambulance, and I heard them talking about getting in touch with my husband.

Kenan arrived at the hospital just as they were wheeling me into a room.

His face was a mix of fear and concern as he rushed to my side. "Y/N, what happened? Are you okay?"

I managed a weak smile. "I fainted at work. They said it might be dehydration or something."

The doctor came in a few minutes later, holding a clipboard and looking serious. "Mrs. Y/N, we're going to run some tests to find out what's causing your symptoms. It could be a number of things, but we want to be thorough."

Kenan nodded, his grip on my hand tightening. "Thank you, doctor."

As they drew blood and hooked me up to an IV, Kenan stayed close, his worry palpable. "I hate seeing you like this," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. "You've been so tired and sick lately. We should have come here sooner."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. "I didn't think it was this serious."

"Don't apologize," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "I just want you to get better."

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor returned with the results. "Well, we have some news," she began, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Congratulations, Mrs. Y/N. You're pregnant."

For a moment, the world stood still. Kenan and I stared at the doctor, trying to process her words. "Pregnant?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, about eight weeks along, from what we can tell. The dizziness and fainting are due to severe morning sickness and dehydration, but both you and the baby are fine. We'll give you some fluids and medication to help manage the symptoms."

Kenan let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, a slow smile spreading across his face. "We're... we're having a baby?" He looked at me, his eyes shining with joy and disbelief.

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. "Yes, Kenan. We're having a baby."

He leaned in and kissed me gently, his hands trembling as they cupped my face. "I can't believe it. This is the best news ever."

As the nurse hooked me up to an IV, Kenan pulled a chair close to the bed and took my hand. "You scared me," he admitted softly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, squeezing his hand.

“Promise me you'll take it easy from now on," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

"I promise," I said, tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm just so glad you're here."

He leaned in and kissed my forehead. "There's nowhere else I'd be. You're my world, Y/N."

The next morning, after being discharged from the hospital, Kenan insisted on taking me home and making sure I rested.

He took a few days off work to stay with me, his protective nature in full force.

One evening, as we were lying in bed, Kenan turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "You know, when I got that call from your office, it was like my worst nightmare."

I looked at him, my heart aching at the worry in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Kenan. I didn't mean to scare you."

He shook his head. "It's not your fault. But it made me realize just how much I love you and our baby. I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

I reached up and cupped his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble under my fingers. "We're going to be okay. We have each other."

He smiled, his eyes softening. "Yes, we do. And I promise to take care of you, no matter what."

[songmingisthighs]

Wanbelyn

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xxxii - big bird maybe

neurosurgeon!hongjoong × reader

buy me coffee ?

where love and peace is held, i never expected for this to happen. i planned and i planned, i expected, and i hoped, but it was never you. you held what i wanted hostage to make room for you, the thing that i needed but has no means of acceptance. deny me, live your best life.

Having worked with Kijoong and experiencing the many emergencies Hongjooong involved you in, you had gotten Kijoong's night routine down to the T.

Sure, there were some setbacks like how Kijoong demanded that he wanted his daddy to tuck him in and you had to negotiate with him. No matter the headache the boy induced, you found yourself still falling for his absolute adorableness. Unfortunately, you see some of those attributes on his father (which you can never nor were you ever planning on telling him). So even when Kijoong (somehow) crawled on top of the kitchen counter as you got his PJs out, you still managed to kindly get him down and scold him yet again.

His damn pout was enough to melt your whole resolve. That and the way he cupped your face and patted your cheeks gently as he said he was not bad. Like his father, Kijoong tends to not really mean his apologies. While you can hear them both say sorry, they tend to say it as more of a courtesy as opposed to an actual admission of guilt. You had a working theory that they do so in hopes that when they do make an admission of guilt, people would appreciate them more.

"Okay, here we go buddy," you grunted slightly as you carried the giggling, wiggling boy down on his dad's bed. Though Kijoong has his own bed in his room, he still sleeps in his dad's bed at night. You adored the fact that they stuck so. Even when it was just the two of them, they try to make what they have an actual family. Sometimes you feel bad for the way people mock and poke at Hongjoong for being so dedicated to his job. For one thing, it wasn't his fault that he was good at his job and that he was a genius at what he does. With the talent that he has, of course people would want him to help them. Though he was on track to becoming an attending, he still had to jump through hoops to prove himself despite people's praises. Despite that, he still spend what spare time he had to ask about Kijoong. Heck, he'd video call him through you whenever he could. Just the other day, when Hongjoong was stuck fixing a botched spinal tap, he managed to have the nurse hold his phone as he sing Kijoong to sleep because he had promised Kijoong that he would. Maybe after a while, you found yourself liking this nanny job.

"Dad?" Kijoong asked after his giggles died down, trying to push the blanket off of him to tease you. His big eyes destroyed all possibilities of you being annoyed at him even when you had to tuck him in for the eight time. "Your daddy has an association event tonight," you said, sitting down next to him on the bed while tilting your head to the side and smiling down at him.

Kijoong liked it when you used big words on him. It made him feel like his dad who's a big professional who used words on a daily basis, it made him feel like he was taking a part in his dad's world.

With pursed lips, Kijoong looked between you and the door multiple times until you understood what he meant. "Oh ho ho, no, mister, you are not staying up tonight to see your daddy come back home," you scoffed, bracing yourself to anticipate if Kijoong decided he wanted to make a run for it. "Why not?" he huffed, frowning deeply which reminded of you that time Hongjoong saw you cooking while carrying Kijoong on your hips. "Because last time you stayed up to wait for your daddy I had to deal with you being cranky the next day and I do not enjoy working with pouty children," you teased him, poking him on the nose to accentuate your words which thankfully made Kijoong scrunch his nose and giggled instead.

Without needing to negotiate more (thankfully), you watched as Kijoong make himself comfortable before curling into your touch, letting drowsiness slowly take over him. You scooted closer and began stroking the boy's head, enjoying the rare time he was quiet and calm, looking like any other child on earth and not a child who has psychological and behavioural issues. At times like this, Kijoong looked like an angel.

"(y/n)," he called out softly, forcing you to snap from your little daydream, "Yeah buddy?" Kijoong peeked through his lashes up at you, "Are you gonna stay?" he asked, voice sounding like he was afraid. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, "Of course, buddy. I'll be here until you fall asleep," you smiled, trying to comfort him only for him to shake his head. "No! Are you staying long?" he asked again, letting you know that he was asking whether or not you were staying with him for the long run.

That took you by surprise.

When you accepted the job offer from Hongjoong, you were always under the impression that your employment was momentary. He wasn't giving you much of an option and you still wanted to become a nurse. You had taken the job with the expectation that it was merely short-term but what you didn't expect was genuinely loving the boy who had found it in himself to trust you since the moment he met you.

Of course, you had yet to plan your exit what with not even having an exact timeline of your departure from Kijoong's life. You had always thought that you'd have more time.

But at that moment, being asked like that directly from him. something felt heavy in your chest.

Kijoong was growing more anxious about you not answering him. So he wrapped his fingers around your pinky and ring finger, "I'll be good, promise," he added.

Your heart broke slightly at him practically begging you to stay.

You couldn't help but swoop down and plant a soft peck on the top of his head and envelop him in a hug.

"I'll stay here until you don't need me anymore, okay? Until then, you just be yourself because I love you for who you are. Don't you even worry your little head," no matter how much you tried to hold it in, your emotion still spilt out and your voice cracked slightly.

Kijoong curled more into you and he even held your hand tighter. "Don't go like mommy," he said and you felt your breath hitched at the sudden mention of his mom.

It was always a mystery to you about what happened to his mom but you never wanted to pry especially since Hongjoong never really mentioned his mom to you. And based on what you heard, Kijoong wouldn't have been able to know much about his mom either. Even if he did, why would you ask such a question to a child?

A child who was clearly severely affected by the absence of his mother.

For now, even as a substitute, you allowed him to rest in your embrace. You allowed him to feel the embrace of a woman who cared for him for once.

Knowing what could happen in the future, it was the least you could do for him.

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[sophswritingthings]

Helloooo!! Can I request for a Mizu x fem!reader who also has blue eyes? (Bc she is also a mixed one) 🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿

pairing: mizu x fem!mixed!reader

warning(s): mentions of prostitution/sex work, swearing, you attempt to seduce mizu and it works

a/n: the tags I feel say it all?

summary: while in madam kaji’s house, mizu stumbles upon something rather.. interesting. you.

word count: 633 words / 3,394 characters 

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“I told all of you to scram,” mizu grumbled, perched up against the wall as she gazed at you. “did I not?”

“I have been told so,” you slowly sat down, wearing a blue kimono printed with green flowers. “but I have also been told I may be able to reach you better than the rest of the girls.”

“hmph,” she scoffs. “how so?”

your eyes flutter open to reveal the beautiful blue color of your eyes. her eyes widened a little, her lips parting.

“madam kaji’s house for all things peculiar,” you smile softly. “we have everything the young man could desire. even myself.”

she adverted her gaze, “I am still not interested. just because you may think you..” she glanced you up and down quickly, “understand me, or whatever you think you have.”

“but I do understand you,” you nod. “I was constantly in fear for my life. for my safety. though.. madam kaji embraced me for who I was. for what I have. and I believe..” you whisper the last few words, your hand gently traveling it’s way down her chest. “you just need to embrace yourself, as well.”

she yanked your hand away from her, holding your wrist tight in her grip. 

“don’t touch me,” she hissed, her eyes narrowed to slits.

“strong you are,” you looked to be so calm in her grip. usual people would be terrified of her, by now. by the strong grip of an onryō.

but.. she supposed you were also one yourself. so you had no need to be scared of her.

she released your wrist from her grip, letting out a little grunt that nothing she tried to get you to leave wasn’t working.

“so, may I stay, then?” you question, settling down the tea in front of you.

“I suppose you may,” she mumbled.

“hm—good.” you nod your head, pouring the tea quickly.

“how have you even managed to keep yourself alive, in this world?” she gazed at you. you were a pretty woman, that much was true. she enjoyed the sight—yes—but with your eyes.. and being a woman? how you managed to not die baffled her.

“I have made my.. deals, my bargains,” you chuckle. “you have no idea how easy it is to get men to do what you want if you simply can get them off.”

she scoffed, “I suppose that’s true,” she nodded.

“oh, it is so.” you smiled, “I found myself here, and madam kaji welcomed me. I make good pay here—“ you gesture around, “—I’m quite popular for my.. attributes.”

she could see that your kimono was not the most proper. it was half slid off of your shoulders, almost showing your breast.

“.. right.” she narrowed her eyes.

she was trying to keep down the fact that she found you very attractive.

“and I do really think,” you slid a little closer to her, hands grasping the front of her clothes. “you could use a little relaxing.”

her gaze adverted from you again. but it quickly snapped back up, as one of your hands pulled off her glasses.

“what are you—“ she hissed.

“shh,” you rubbed your thumb across her lips. “just let it happen.”

you pressed your lips against hers, sighing softly as you did so. usually you weren’t attracted to your customers.. yet..

mizu felt different to you.

her hands were trembling a little, she was worried about something. but she grasped your hips in her hands. she sat you gently in her lap.

whatever she was worried about, she wasn’t worried enough.

her lips trailed off yours, pressing kisses down your face, against your jaw, eventually landing on your neck.

“what are you, I am supposed to..”

she pressed two fingers to your lips.

“shh.” she shushed, “just let it happen.”

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a/n: sorry it took so long to get to this request, I couldn’t think of anything!! 😭😭