#in my heart he's a messy 13 year old with leaves in his hair and no brush to be seen in his bathroom. he doesn't own one.

[quirkle2]

i have GOT to stop drawing things for fics i haven't written yet

[wh0re43van]

Boyfriend pt 3 (Warren Lipka X Reader)

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You wake up at Warrens house, then finally indirectly break up with your boyfriend.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of Warrens wounds from the fight, mentions of weed

A/n: Okay y’all, i think this might be the last part. I could probably continue this for another part or two if i really wanted to. (i have a couple rough ideas) but I’m probably gonna focus on other fics.

Pt 1, Pt 2

As I open my eyes, I’m startled for a split second, not recognizing the bed I’m in or the ceiling I’m looking at, but the familiar scent of weed and the sound of a bong bubbling while a Green Day CD plays in the background reminds me that I’m at Warrens house. I sit up in his bed, the t-shirt of his that I’m wearing hangs off me, still smelling of his cologne.

“Well good morning sleeping beauty,” Warren says between coughs, I sit up in the bed yawning.

“Why’d you leave me,” I frown, looking at the cold spot next to me where Warren fell asleep last night.

“Well, I waited for you to wake up for like an hour, I got bored,” he laughs, standing from the couch then walking to the bed, bong in hand. I smile at the boy in front of me. His disheveled brown hair that’s falling into his bruised face, the white tank top that hugs his torso snug and his grey sweatpants that don’t leave much to the imagination. “Does this make up for it?” He hands me the glass and the lighter.

“Only if you go get me some water,” I smile sweetly, accepting the bong.

“Anything for you,” he winks, making my heart flutter as he turns to walk up the steps. I take a small hit from the bong before laying back down on the bed, watching the smoke I blow out cloud above my head and dissipate into the yellow light in the ceiling.

‘How did I get here?’ I think to myself. Just last month I had a routine. I was comfortable- albeit bored. I knew what every day was going to consist of, there were no surprises. I woke up, smoked, then either went to work or went to Dakota’s house. If I went to my job at the library, I had a set task list; the exact same every day. If I went to Dakotas, we either went on deliveries or argued because he’d been cheating on me again. Sad, I know, but that’s how it was, and I was fine with it. Everything’s different now, not in a bad way though. Warren invaded my thoughts and my heart as soon as we reunited, and I don’t think he intends on leaving anytime soon. I’m grateful for him. He’s made me see that life can be exciting-and messy. I’ll never be able to think of sex the same for the rest of my life, regardless of what happens with us.

‘Us,’ I think to myself. ‘What are we?’ Are we friends with benefits? Is he seeing other girls? He wants me to break up with my boyfriend, but I don’t even know where he and I stand. I’m going to break up with Dakota- for many reasons- but, do I really want to jump straight into a relationship again? Is that what Warren wants? Will he lose interest once I’m single? Regardless, I don’t want whatever me and him have to end; That’s the only thing I know for sure.  

“Here you go, beautiful,” Warren interrupts my thoughts, his voice bringing a smile to my face as he hands me the glass of water.

“You’re so chivalrous,” I giggle before taking a sip of the cold water. Warren crawls over top of me and flops down on the bed, laying on his back with his toned arms crossed above his head. He smiles and sighs, turning his battered face to look at me with heavy eyes.

“What?” I giggle, unsure of why he’s staring. His grin stays plastered on him as he shakes his head.

“Nothing… It’s just if you had told 13 year old me about this past month, I would have never believed you. How did I manage to get the most beautiful girl in Fayette County in my bed, wearing my shirt…only my shirt?” he says in a dreamy tone as he props himself up on a bruised arm. I can’t help but blush at his words. He knows exactly how to flatter a woman.

“Oh stop,” I giggle. “You’re quite the looker yourself,” I smirk as crawl on top him, sitting on his stomach. “You look really good in this wifebeater with your busted lip,” I run my hand up his chest and to his face, brushing my thumb over his healing abrasion. He brings his strong arms to my hips, leaning into my hand on his face. “You look dangerous,” I wiggle my eyebrows, smirking. He laughs as he flips me over so that he’s hovering above me, he slips his hand under the t-shirt I’m wearing, ghosting over my bare core.

“You have no idea,” he whispers lowly in my ear before nibbling on my neck, sending electric shoot through my entire body.

“I don’t think that I thanked you properly for defending my honor,” I smile, before pulling the shirt up and over my body, leaving me completely bare underneath him. His eyes scan my body as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“This view right here is thanks enough,” his sultry tone resonates in my ears as he runs his busted knuckles over my curves, leaving goosebumps on every inch of skin that he touches.

“I have a little bit more to offer,” I smirk as I sit up, shoving him on to his back. He watches in anticipation as I settle between his legs. “I gotta say,” I purr slowly as my hand ghosts over his crotch. “You looked really hot fighting for me,” I smile through my lashes as I slide my fingers under the top his waistband.

“And I’d do it again, especially if you’re my reward,” he brings a rough hand to my cheek, pushing my hair out of my face as he stares bullets into my soul. I’ve always adored his dark eyes, the color of freshly brewed coffee; bitter yet comforting. A single glance from the man below me is enough to make my core ache.

“You know Warren,” I begin as I slowly pull his sweats down, holding his gaze. “When you look at me like that, you could get me to do absolutely anything you want,” I say before biting my lip in anticipation as I slide his boxers down to reveal his semi hard cock awaiting my attention.

“Mmm, I could say the same thing about you, darlin’,” he groans out, his deep voice sending chills down my spine straight to my core. I spit into my hand before grabbing his cock, pumping it a few times to fully wake it up. He hums at the contact, his body relaxes as he lays flat on his back, laying his arms above his head. I cup his balls in one hand and his base in the other as I slowly sink my mouth down on him until he hits my throat, earning a low moan from the back of his throat.

“You always treat me so well, baby,” Warren groans, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure. I begin to bob my head up and down on him, hollowing out my cheeks. “Mmm, atta’ girl. Just like that, beautiful,” he sits up to watch me gag on him; a feeling that I’ve grown to love. Every ounce of praise he gives my goes straight to my stomach, fueling the butterflies that are erupting. His eyes, dark with lust, gaze down at me. I lose myself in the moment. His moans and words of praise fill the room as he repeatedly thrusts against the back of my throat. My jaw starts to go numb, but I ignore it; The site of Warrens face contorted in pleasure and the compliments falling from his blushed lips is worth every ounce of pain.

I see his hand go the night stand, picking up my vibrating phone. I pull away from him, catching my breath as he puts the phone to his ear.

“What do you want?” he asks with a sly grin before gently guiding my head back to his erection. I’m confused, but I obey and slip him back into my mouth. “She’s right here, but she’s a little busy at the moment,” he smirks into the phone.

‘Oh god. It’s got to be Dakota’ I think to myself as I kitten lick around his tip. I hear him raise his voice on the other end of the line.

‘Yep. It’s Dakota,’ I think I hear him ask warren to put me on the phone, followed by some curses. Warren laughs as he thrusts deep into my throat, making me audibly gag.

“She can’t talk right now man, her mouths a little preoccupied,” he winks at me, my cheeks burn red. I can tell Warren is enjoying this- maybe a little too much and I hate to admit that I also find this situation extremely hot, so I play along. I take his entire length into my throat, past my gag reflex until my nose is nestled against the small patch of brown hair decorating his skin.

“Fuck! Just like that baby,” he moans loudly, chuckling into the receiver. He begins to thrust deep into my throat, groaning in pleasure. “What’s she doing?” He laughs breathlessly as his free hand uses my hair to hold my head in place as he violates my mouth. “Mmm, I’ll spare you the details, dude,” he says, his stupid grin not leaving his face. I can hear Dakota cussing Warren out. His eyes focus on me as thick strings of spit drip from my mouth around him as he fucks my throat, my gagging filling the room. Warren uses my hair to pull my head back, spit rolling down my face as I gasp for air. He holds the small phone up to my mouth. “Do you like gagging on me y/n?” he asks I nod my head still trying catch my breath. “Use your words beautiful,” he says with the biggest shit eating grin, using his eyes to motion to the phone.

“I fucking love it,” I say breathlessly, a smirk falling across my own face as my knees becoming weak from how aroused I am. With that, he shoves his cock back into my mouth.

“Holy fucking shit,” he growls in a way I’ve never heard before as he drops the phone on his chest, Dakotas small voice still shouting on the other end of the line. Warren grabs either side of my head guiding me up and down his cock a couple more times.

“Fuck, just like that, baby. I’m cumming,” Warren groans as he releases deep into my throat and onto my tongue, I lap up every last drop, pulling away gasping again. “Did you swallow all of it, darlin’?” he asks, panting as he wipes a tear from my cheek. Dakotas frantic voice still chirping through the small plastic brick.

“Yes sir,” I giggle opening my mouth, sticking my tongue. Warren smirks, grabbing my ass to scootch me up to him. “Good girl,” he says against my lips.

“Warren!” I hear Dakotas infuriated voice boom from the phone. Warren laughs holding it up to his ear again. Dakota bellows every slur, insult, and curse word I’ve ever heard through the cell until Warren cuts him off.

“Yeah that’s why I fucked your girl,” he laughs loudly, his shit eating grin plastered proudly on his battered face. “Bitchass cuck!” he shouts before ending the call, tossing the phone to the side.

“Warren, what was all that about,” I giggle as he attacks my bare skin with kisses and love bites.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.” He pants against my skin. “Turn over, beautiful, I’m not done yet,” he slaps my ass, standing to remove his tank top, his dick still hard as ever. My stomach flips as I get on my hands and knees on his bed. He comes up behind me, pulling me to the edge of the bed, using his hands to spread me open. Wasting no time, he licks a long strip across my core, earning a whimper from me. “You taste so sweet baby,” he coos before inserting a finger inside of me. I whine at the contact. He begins pumping his finger inside of me. “You really liked that, hm? You’re soaked,” I can hear the smirk in his voice, all I can do is nod my head as he curls exactly where I need him most.

“Fuck Warren,” I whimper, desperate for more of his touch.

“You’re so fucking stunning,” he runs his hand down my back and over my ass, admiring my body while he slips another finger inside of me, I whine in response. It’s strange the kind of affect he has on me; With one touch from his hand, I’m soaked. I’m so pathetically attracted to this man, I’m almost ashamed. He fuels a lust deep inside of me that I never even knew was there. No drug is any match for the way that Warren can make me feel.

“Fuck me, Warren,” I whimper out as his fingers pump into me. “Please, I can’t stand it, I need you Warren, please,” I plead in a way that I’d never imagined I would beg a man.

“Anything for my girl,’’ he coos, pulling his fingers out to lean down and place wet kiss on my lower back, nibbling at the skin, sure to leave a mark.

‘His girl’ the phrase fills my heart with joy.

Soon, I feel Warren slowly pushing into me. His hand reaches up, snaking gently around my throat as he pushes deeper and deeper into my sopping wet cunt. I let out the unholiest of sounds as he stretches me out.

“Fuck,” my voice comes out shaky and desperate as he begins to thrust into me.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans, his grip on my throat tightening as he pounds into me. He slaps my ass, making me gasp loudly. He rubs his hand gently over the stinging skin. “This is mine,” he growls lowly, then he wraps his other hand around my torso, pulling me up to so that my back is flush against his chest as I rest my knees on the bed. This new angle allows him to hit even deeper inside of me, making me see stars. I lean my head back on his shoulder, my eyes rolling back in their sockets. He grabs my face and ducks his head down to pull me into an intense kiss. His tongue explores my mouth as he pounds my pussy into oblivion.

“You’re all mine,” he growls against my lips, his grip tightening on my throat a bit. My knees go so weak that his arms are the only thing holding me up, keeping our sweaty skin pressed together.

“Fuck Warren,” I pant out, barely audible. The rubber band that has been tightly winding in my stomach snaps, sending ecstasy to every cell of my body. My walls convulse around him while he continues to thrust into me mercilessly. “That’s my girl,” he groans lowly in my ear, reaching down to rub my clit to encourage my orgasm. I come completely undone around him, my body begins to shake as I scream out his name, the pleasure almost to much when he reaches his own release. He pumps me full of his cum, fucking it deep into me as I clench around him. His warm seed drips out of my cunt around his cock as he rides out his orgasm, surely leaving bruises underneath every fingertip gripping my neck. He finally slows down, pulling out of me before picking me up with shaky arms to lay me gently on the bed. I lay with my eyes closed trying to catch my breath, a sweaty puddle on the disheveled bed. Warren lays down beside me. “I’m sorry, was that too much?” he asks sincerely, placing a loving hand on my stomach. I open my eyes, turning to look at him.

“Are you kidding,” I giggle weakly. His worried expression quickly matches my own. “Warren that was amazing,” I crawl up to lay on his sweaty chest, his quick heartbeat is comforting as it rings through my ears.

“You can always tell me if I do something you don’t like,” he says honestly as he traces circles on my back, using his other hand to run his fingers through my hair.

“Warren Lipka, you know that you can do no wrong,” I giggle as I snuggle further into him. He laughs lightly, the room is filled with a comfortable silence.

“Hey, how ‘bout we get cleaned up and I take you to that new cafe that opened up in town?” He offers. I sit up to meet his gaze, he has a serious expression on his bruised face.

“What? Like… like a date?” I smile a bit sheepishly. He smiles right back.

“I’d sure like it to be,” he says hopefully. My grin stretches from ear to ear as I stand from the bed, tugging on his arm.

“Well, come on then. I don’t want to go on our first date with your cum dripping down my leg,” I laugh as I pull him into the bathroom.

“Hm, I don’t know. Sounds kinda hot to me,” he chuckles as he closes the bathroom door behind us, pulling me into a deep kiss before he turns the shower head on.

[phoenix-of-jade]

12

In honor of SPOTIFY WRAPPED,  send me a number 1-100 and I’ll write you a starter based on the song.

Song number 12: Love the way it hurts by Cloudy June

Oh, your demons match my ghosts

Twin spirits... That was the conclusion the raven haired had came to after listening to Minjun's story about his past and the unfortunate love story he'd gone through. It was interesting how two seemingly completely different people, with completely different backgrounds, could share soo much in common, from a complicated family background characterized by messy games of power and the iron fist of parental authority, to the tragedy of losing their first loves in an unfortunate turn of events that would make said people haunt them to this day (even if the circumstances were different for each one of them, as well as the nature of the "haunting").

I'm sad as fuck you know

When Minjun told him that he couldn't let go of Joowan because he was his very first ever love, the information kind of struck a sensitive chord buried deep within Xuan's heart and soul. He could relate in a way with the lawyer's pain and struggles with moving on, because he too was haunted by a similar ghost: while he didn't lie about Cheng being some sort of 'ex', the man wasn't Xuan's only friend he'd ever gotten involved with in a seemingly romantical way.

The two had another friend with whom they both were very close, a boy named Xia, and while Xuan didn't love Cheng in a romantic manner, he did bear this kind of feelings for this boy; feelings he was too young back then to be able to fully understand what they were or what they meant, but which made Xia be the closest thing to an actual crush Xuan had ever experienced. Unfortunately, Xuan lost Xia when they were still kids, the young man dying at the ripe age of 13 and leaving the at the time 12 year old Xuan with a grueling sense of survivor's guilt. And to this day, the green eyed man blamed himself for Xia's death even if it wasn't his direct doing, living under the impression that anyone he'd grow to love ever again would end up suffering a similar fate, which made Xuan swear that he'll never love again.

You can always make it worse

Yet, cut to the present, and the time spent in the company of this stunning and clever lawyer made Xuan feel a kind of tingle he hadn't felt in literal years, something he never thought would be possible ever again. That strong feeling of compassion and empathy he felt for Minjun, paired with his respect for this handsome man's strong will and determination, had made Xuan develop a keen liking for his new business associate. In other words, he was starting to develop a new crush. But was he ready to accept this kind of feelings in his life? Was Xuan ready to allow himself to love again and welcome this still unknown feeling to nestle into his stone cold heart?

Baby I need you I need your claws on my neck I need your bitter red wine lips and dirty regrets I need your hunger Feels like you're tying me up I'm begging you for your love Begging you for your love

Before he realized it, Xuan had already started to slowly fantasize about him and his lawyer, and that did not include the business framework in the slightest! He couldn't take his mind off of Minjun's charming smile, his charismatic voice and the way his pretty lips looked soo kissable! It was strange feeling like this for someone so suddenly after he hadn't ever caught any semblance of such cravings for anyone else in literal years, not even for Cheng, with whom he had an intimate relationship after all...

Maybe it was the fact that Minjun kind of reminded him of Xia, in a way? It was true, he had black hair and brown eyes like his long departed friend, but so did many other people he'd interacted with in the past and he hadn't developed any displays of lust like this for them. Or maybe it was Minjun's charisma and very kind and selfless nature that reminded him of the young man? Xuan didn't know, but it frustrated him nevertheless. He wanted something from Minjun, that he could tell, but what exactly that something was, heck if even he knew!

Interesting enough was that the lawyer seemed to be interested in him too, or that's what Xuan thought from watching him closely during their conversations. It was bad! This only served to fuel those weird feelings and desires he was having even further! Should he even try to initiate something...?

Xuan shook his head in frustration, sighing and leant back into the chair, staring at the ceiling. Was it even worth it? What if he tries to initiate something romantic with him and Minjun rejects him? Not only would he end up hurt (especially his pride and ego), but that would also risk ruining their business relationship as well...

The raven haired heaved a deep sigh, wondering why things had to be soo complicated? And even if let's say, Minjun were to actually return these feelings of attraction, there was still the issue of his stalker ex boyfriend... Xuan furrowed his eyebrows remembering about what Minjun had told him: Joowan was a murderer and if he'd deem Xuan as competition, he might attempt 'eliminating' him the best way murderers know...

But how can I make me not want you now? Can I make me not go to your house?

But when was he ever afraid of death to begin with? Xuan let out a self-ironic snort. The idea sounded soo stupid in comparison to his lifestyle: he was dealing with the threat of death on a daily, such was the life of a powerful mob leader such as himself. So what was one more assassination threat on top of the already long list looming over his head? Xuan wasn't a scarredy cat. He'd never fret in the face of danger and that wasn't something that would change now. If he wanted Minjun, he could've as well gone for it! Xuan wasn't going to let anyone get in his way and if worse came to worse, he was sure that at least he could rid the lawyer of this annoying pain in the ass.

Baby I crave you I crave your taste in the night (...) And it's rushing from my feet to the back of my head

That thought in mind, Xuan smirked to himself a sinister smile. Yeah, he wasn't going to back down and give up that easily! When he wanted something, he was the type of man that wouldn't refrain from doing almost anything to get that something and if that bastard was even going to think to stand between him and Minjun, Xuan was going to show Joowan what it meant challenging the Green Eyed Death himself.

So yeah, he was going to actually go to Minjun house tonight and finally do what he's been craving to do for quite a while now. Once that decision set, there wasn't turning Xuan back from it and he was going to make sure that nothing, and really nothing, would stand between him and his goal! Those were the very thoughts traversing Xuan's mind as he stared at the shiny revolver glistening in the dim light of the study, before placing it in its holster, concealed nicely underneath his shirt and pants at his back.

Oh, your demons match my ghosts I'm sad as fuck you know You can always make it worse But I love the way it Hurts and maybe that's my curse Come and drag me through the dirt You can always make it worse But I love the way it hurts It hurts It hurts But I love the way it hurts It hurts Oh it hurts

Indeed, they were twin spirits attracting one another and for that reason they should have been together... Xuan wan't one to give up without a fight and even if this would've ended up hurting him in any shape or form, he was more than willing to take that pain. After all, wasn't he the type who liked a little bit of pain anyways?

Cheeky grin played at the corners of his lips and his emerald eyes shined with the glow of a hungry predator ready to go after its pray, as the raven haired exited the office. Let the hunt of the night begin!

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

A Year Without (1/10)

Summary: After the curse returns Killian to the Enchanted Forest, he struggles to acclimate to his old life and his old ways. When a bird with a letter and memory potion arrives on his ship, he accepts the challenge to find Emma and help her save her family. Getting to Emma won't be easy and will cost him dearly, but what choice does he have when he cannot go a day without memories of her haunting him?

A03 | CH  1  |   2  |   3  |  4  |  5  |  6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  | CUTS

Day 05

Golden strands of sunlight break through the forest canopy as the horse trekked on and carried him further from the Enchanted Forest for which this land was named and toward the first port on his search for his misplaced ship. Watching the golden strands dance pulled him back to Neverland.

Soft, golden strands of hair filling the space between his fingers. Warm lips pressed firmly, desperately on his own. His own surprise and quick surrender to her sudden invasion. The shift he felt in the depths of his soul when they connected for the second kiss. The words "just a one time thing" thrown at him, nonchalantly, as she raised the walls back in place to protect herself from the very real truth that kiss revealed to both of their broken hearts - broken hearts can be put back together, to be broken, again, in new ways.

Killian let out a shaky breath and pulled himself into the present. The forest was thinning, the trees less suffocating than the days before. A breeze stirred the leaves and carried a briny scent, stirring up a bit of anticipation.

Pirates, for that is all he was, belonged on ships. Fierce pirate captains, feared in the seas, belonged to their ships. And somewhere out there, the Jolly was out there, waiting for her captain to be back at her helm. Without him, she was lost, directionless, rotting at sea. Despite a lack of consciousness, she was more aware of his absence than Swan would be.

With the crocodile gone, his future lied with his ship. Wherever she was and he needed to find her to figure out just what that would entail.

Day 13

Another shabby sea town, another rumour of his ship sighted followed directly into a dead-end, another pub with cheap pints of watery ale, and another day he kept his promise to Swan.

Even, now, while drowning in the tenth? ninth? pint of the warm ale that small smile she gifted him before turning away and leaving them, leaving him, to the curse lingered in his mind. Perhaps, he'd cursed himself when he'd spoken those last words to her. Words she'd forgotten as easily as she'd forgotten him.

A loud eruption of laughter drew his attention to how crowded the pub had gotten. Killian scowled at the lot of messy sailors yelling for women, booze, and rooms. Throwing some coin on his table, he stumbled from his table toward the door. His escape was blocked by a burly in a bright red hat.

“Captain?” squeaked out a familiar voice.

Killian smiled, more of a grimace that didn’t reach his eyes, “If it isn’t my favourite, flea-ridden, bilge rat scampering about on two legs again, are we?”

“We’ve been looking for you since the curse dropped us back here. We can’t wait to join you, we’ve been keeping an eye out for the Jolly Roger, but I knew you’d find her!” Smee spoke without pause for a breathe, then he called over his shoulder to a table behind him, “boys, captain’s back, we’re going home, tonight!”

Killian groaned and stepped into the persona he’d worn so comfortably over the last few hundred years.

Hook turned, spread his arms wide, and greeted his former crew with a wicked smile. “Men, tonight we celebrate for tomorrow we will begin a new adventure. One on land. Relieving many a carriage of their burdens.”

Day 27

A few of his faithful crew left that night, muttering about how the captain had either gone soft or lost his senses. The few who'd stayed with him had profited handsomely. They'd gotten rich as highway bandits as they travelled between ports searching for the Jolly.

While they enjoyed pints in a pub indiscernible from those visited the evening prior, Killian's wondered if he'd left enough with the carriage to ensure the safety of the couple he'd robbed. They'd had knights escorting them, so that spoke of some wealth and standing. He'd assuaged his guilt with another pint and stood to toast his crew.

"To the most clever, dastardly band of pirates to ever set sail-," he shared a laugh at his slip up with Smee before continuing, "stride, on the open road!"

"To Captain Hook!" Smee responded, clinking his drink with Hook's. They took a sip in a companionable moment of quiet. As Hook turned, Smee stopped him, "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. The boys and I chipped in and got you something."

Hook followed Smee's fingers toward a brunette woman walking toward him, seductive smile at her lips. He forced a smile as he escorted her out, planning on how on to buy off her silence and where he'd spend the rest of the night. It was too early to go to the room he'd let - quiet nights welcomed thoughts veering dangerously close to heartbreaking - but he couldn't return to the pub once he'd dismiss this mistress.

Once she'd left, pleased with her heavier purse, Killian planned to walk the docks. Maybe the Jolly had made an appearance after all. A sharp pain burst on the back of his head and he was on the ground with a knife at his throat. One of his victims must have recognised him an planned to exact his revenge.

"Move and I'll slit your throat!" The command was issued by a feminine voice.

[you-are-so-much-better-than-that]

I was tagged by the absolute loves of my life @metalheadmickey @heymrspatel @whatwouldmickeydo and @deathclassic to do a joy list and I’ll never say no to those! Here are some highlights from my time away

Joy List

1. Finally meeting my almost three year old niece and nephew and falling completely in love with them. Meeting my four month old niece and attending her baptism. Getting to hold another niece less than 24 hours after she was born.

2. My nephew’s eyes shining super bright when his mom told him ‘I got you something’ and without any more information on what that thing might be him immediately responding “ooooo thank you mama’ in the most adorable freaking voice

3. My niece playing doctor with me with her toy stethoscope, checking my heart and saying ‘sounds good’

4. My nephew coming over to me and lying down on top of me and tracing the scar on my knee gently, turning around and squeezing me, then going back to watching tv while lying on top of me.

5. My nephew handing me my crutch even though I didn’t need it because he had the urge to play with it then remembered ‘it’s not a toy’ but he’s already picked it up.

6. My niece interrupting our little game to say “I’m having so much fun hanging out with you”

7. My niece being annoyed at Charlie and yet asking to FaceTime him as soon as she leaves.

8. My little baby niece farting the loudest fucking fart! She farted so loud one night, she woke up her dad who thought someone was breaking into their home. HOW does something so loud come out of such a tiny baby!

9. Her dimples. Her laugh. Her smile. Her crazy messy hair.

10. When she sleeps in my arms.

11. Just born baby feet wrinkles!

12. Watching my aunt and uncle be grandparents and my cousins be dads.

13. My aunt teaching me to how to cook Egyptian food.

14. Finding the perfect pair of knee high brown suede shoes that actually zip up around my calves!

15. Sparkly boots

16. Meeting friends! Hugging friends for the first time. Hugging friends in the middle of a bus station. Really long first hugs.

17. Friendsgiving dinner.

18. Rented fancy chairs and charger plates!

19. The smell of tomato pie..

20. Getting to flex my brain muscles a little and finding that I do still got it apparently

21. Trader Joes and Petco shopping trips

22. A cuban sandwich and tacos

23. Service dogs with ear muffs when a theatre is too loud

24. Being called a jackal

25. Museum days and sculpture butts

26. Crossing things off my bucket list

27. Seeing my friends’ homes for the first time.

28. Sleepovers with friends

29. Knowing that in just a short couple of months I’ll get to see my family and friends again. Making concrete plans for it. Seeing it in their calendars.

30. This space. This community. All of you make me so, so joyful! It’s been almost a year since I’ve joined this place officially, and it has been the most transformative year I’ve had in a long time. It hasn’t been an easy one, but you’ve all helped me weather it. I love you all so much!!!!

And since this was going around a while ago, I’m gonna tag some friends! @whatwouldmickeydo @heymrspatel @metalheadmickey @gallawitchxx @gardenerian @iansfreckles @thisdivorce @squidyyy23 @tidalrace @auds-and-evens @creepkinginc @celestialmickey @deathclassic @energievie @howlinchickhowl @ianstummy @mikhailoisbaby @mrsinistertype @mickmilks @rereadanon @sickness-health-all-that-shit @sleepyfacetoughguy @doodlevich @xninetiestrendx @smokey-mickey @suchagallabitch @y0itsbri @look-i-love-u @vintagelacerosette @milkovichy @milkovski @clingymickey @whatthebodygraspsnot and literally anyone else who wants to share some joy! 

[134340am]

yuna!!! congrats on your milestone you deserve it ⸝⸝ʚ̴̶̷̆ ̯ʚ̴̶̷̆⸝⸝

for your event: “asking your not-yet-lover to stay the night because you don’t want to be alone” w/ bakugou my love

please take your time!!

bakugou katsuki x gn!reader, 0.6k words, sfw part of my 500 frens celebration! + read the kuroo ver. here

13. asking your not-yet-lover to stay the night because you don’t want to be alone

"okaerinasai, katsuki."

"'m going out again."

"oh, okay. have you eaten?"

"yeah."

"where are you going?"

he stops to stare at you, nostrils flaring and brow creased. "i don't have to tell you. 'm not your boyfriend," he spits out, vile and venomous, and storms past you in the living room making a beeline for his—leaving you hurt and confused.

"the fuck, katsuki? i know you're not my boyfriend, and i don't need you to be my boyfriend to be concerned about you!" you stumble after him, legs weak from sitting on the couch for the better part of today.

katsuki's tossing things around in his room, looking for his gloves— no, a hoodie— no, he's tugging his shirt off— oh, a gift bag. who's that for?

you linger outside his room, one hand on the doorframe and another hidden behind your back. drawers slamming shut, boxes being tossed around, the scrape of a ceramic cup on katsuki's table—the aggressive cacophony of sound reverberates in your ears harshly, making you wince. a faint sheen of dust dances in the air under his bright white light: a reminder of how long he's been gone.

"where were you these past three weeks, katsuki?" your voice quavered.

"no where. everywhere. none of your damn business, shrimpy."

"actually, i think it is. do you really expect me to not worry when you won't pick up your phone, or when none of your friends know where you've gone? i know you have your own life but you can't just leave like that without telling anybody. honestly—"

"shut up."

you still. "what?"

"i said, shut up."

here you are in katsuki's room. there is dust on his table and a stream of angry, unspoken words hanging in the air like the pings of a windchime on a rainy day.

katsuki turns, backpack stuffed full. "where i go is not, and never will be, any of your concern." he turns his nose up at you, ruby-red eyes glinting with anger, maybe hurt. a veiny hand reaches into his pocket and he pulls out a small wad of notes, secured with a little yellow hair tie. he tosses it at you.

"go get dinner. don't wait for me."

"katsuki, wait—"

he stalks past you, backpack slung high on his left shoulder. you wince as the rough canvas brushes against your arm. your skin feels like it's on fire, and there's a burning behind your eyelids and on your nose bridge that you will away with all your heart.

"katsuki, please. you— can't you stay the night, at least? get a good night's rest before you run off to wherever again."

he's pulling on his shoes now, stuffing his sock-clad feet into his expensive sneakers and ignoring you. you swallow, the lump in your throat making it painful, and try again. "please. i won't ask where you're going. i just need to know where you are for one night. for my own sanity."

katsuki glances up at you. the cap he shoved onto his messy head of hair—just an old grey one from years ago, a simple gift you got him for his birthday—shields one of his eyes from you.

"i have to go," he says, softer now.

he steps out and pulls the gate close behind him. two, three steps forward and you're gripping at the grilles of your gate like a hungry prisoner.

"katsuki," you plead, voice barely above a whisper. a stray tear rolls into your mouth. "katsuki, i haven't slept in a week. i—" miss you, and have never stopped thinking about you. "—i need you."

behind him, silhouetting his black-clad figure, the last embers of the sun dip behind the house opposite.

"i need you, katsuki," you repeat.

he casts you one last look.

"no, you don't."

a/n: this didn't age well i'm sorry... i'll write you some fluff next time..... but thank you for requesting!!! and for sticking with me since my 100 frens celebration <3（^∀^●）ﾉｼ

(series masterlist) (masterlist)

[falcqns]

Aurorra

Pairing: Dad!Henry Cavill x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: Henry meets his daughter for the first time.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst. Dad!Henry

A/N: I don't know why I'm a sucker for these types of stories but I am. Hope you enjoy!

It's been two years and two days exactly since you and Henry had broken up.

It had been one year, one month, and two weeks exactly since you had given birth to his daughter, the daughter he had no idea existed.

It hadn't been a particularly nasty break up or anything, but both of you were hurting. You both wanted the relationship to work out, and when it didn't, you were both too heartbroken to even remain friends.

You had moved away from London not long after the breakup, deciding to live in Manchester, which was closer to your family. When you found out you were pregnant, you had tried to call him, but he had blocked your number. You had no way of contacting him other than through instagram, but he had unfollowed you and you knew your message would get lost in the thousands he received a day if you tried that.

You had no way of contacting his family either. You didn't know what to do. You had told your family, and they were insanely happy for you, even though you were going to be a single mother. When your mom had sat down and told you her and your father would do anything to help and support you through whatever decision you made, you knew the answer.

You were going to be a single mother.

When your daughter Aurorra Enola Cavill was born nine months later, you knew you made the right choice. Being a single mother may not have been what you were planning in life, but holding your blue eyed and brown curly haired baby in your arms for the first time, you knew it was what you were meant to do.

Aurorra had become your little bestie. She was such a well behaved baby. She rarely cried, slept through the night not long after she turned a week old, and was always full of smiles that were clearly from her father. There was never any doubt in your mind that she was Henry's, and every time you looked at her and saw her blue eyes, brown hair, and her cuddly chunky body, it only solidified that fact.

Aurorra had just turned 13 months old, and your job transferred you back to London, so you and Aurorra had just made the big move back.

You had opted to move back to the same neighbourhood both because of the safety of it, and because you knew you'd have a good chance of running into Henry. You had thought about it for months on end, and knew he couldn't be kept in the dark any more.

You had just finished unpacking the last box in the bedroom, when Aurorra woke up from her afternoon nap. You changed her and the two of you headed out to ASDA to get some groceries.

You pulled in the driveway and saw car that looked similar to Henry's BMW, but you didn't think anything of it. You parked and got a less than happy Aurorra out of her carseat and strapped her into the cart before heading on your shopping journey.

You had made it through the fruits and vegetables, and was heading to the freezer section to grab frozen fruit for the growing 13 month old, when you saw a familiar back in the same aisle.

It was Henry. There was no doubt about that. He was wearing a white knitted cardigan, with faded blue jeans, and running shoes. From the top of his cardigan you saw a dark blue t shirt poking out. His hair was slightly messy, but still curly. He was reading the nutrition information on the back of a frozen energy bowl, and you quietly opened the fridge, hoping to grab what you needed from this aisle and escape without him noticing you.

You had gone over seeing him again a million times in your head, and in no way did you plan on it being in the grocery store with other people around.

But, 13 month olds have a mind of their own. At that moment, Aurorra saw a popsicle package with the characters from her favourite show, Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir, and proceeded to squeal and call your attention.

"Mama!" She squealed and pointed a chunky hand at the popsicles. "Bug!" You glanced up and Henry and watched as he did a double take back at you. His eye brow furrowed, but you ignored him, instead turning to your baby.

"Yes, that is Ladybug. Would you like them?" You asked, and she nodded eagerly. You smiled and grabbed them out of the freezer once you noticed they were organic. "Say thank you," You prompted, and she brought the same chunky hand up to her chin and then down flat towards you. It wasn't the most perfect sign, but she was still learning.

You saw Henry walk up to you and had to steel yourself for the coming conversation. "Y/N?" He asked, and you turned around to face him.

"Hi, Henry." You said, placing the popsicles in the cart with the rest of your groceries. He smiled at you, and then glanced at Aurorra. She smiled and cooed at him and he smiled back, and stroked her cheek. "Hows everything," you asked, trying to avoid the question you knew was about to come.

"Everything's good. Kal misses you. Still sleeps with the teddy you got him," He said, his eyes locked on your daughter. You smiled.

"Well, tell him I miss him too. Now, if you'll excuse me, we're running a little late. I have to get home and get her fed." You said, but before you could move the cart Henry asked you the question.

"I-is she mine?" He asked, and you nodded, trying to swallow the lump that had been forming in your throat, to no avail.

"Y-Yes." You stuttered, and seconds later, Henry's arms enveloped you. "I-Im sorry," You whimpered, and Henry shushed you.

"Its okay. Let's not talk about it here. How about I meet you at your place once were both done?" He suggested, and you agreed, before giving him your address.

"Okay. I'll see you there." he said, giving you another hug, and pressing a kiss to the top of Aurorra's hand that had curled around his pointer finger. He stroked her cheek once more, before giving you both a smile, and heading off. He grabbed his cart with groceries, and made his way towards the checkout.

By the time you had finished shopping and made it home, Henry was parked in the driveway. You took a deep breath, and got out, giving him a smile. He returned it, and got out of his car before walking over to help you.

He grabbed the groceries, leaving you to grab Aurorra, who squealed at the sight of Henry. Henry chuckled, and blew her a kiss. He followed the two of you inside. You set Aurorra down, who stumbled on her own feet before stabilizing, her empty bottle in the right hand.

"Go put your baba in the kitchen please," You said, and she babbled to herself as she walked off, ignoring you and Henry.

"She's absolutely adorable," Henry said, and you smiled. "Well, she is your daughter," You said. Henry threw his head back and laughed before following you into the kitchen.

You set the bags down on the ground and turned to put away the ones Henry set on the counter. You two made small talk while putting away the groceries, mainly about work. You heard ruffling behind you but didn't think anything of it, as Aurorra usually liked to help put away the soup cans.

"Mama?" You heard a little voice ask and you turned around to face Aurorra. She was holding the box of popsicles out to you in one hand, while her other hand made a clockwise motion on her chest, signing please.

You smiled and took the box from her.

"After dinner, okay?" You said, and she didn't like that very much. She plopped on her butt and began to cry.

Her arms reached up to where the popsicles were and sobbed her little heart out. Henry's heart melted and scooped her up. "It's okay baby girl," He said, bouncing her. She sniffled, but calmed down and laid her head on his shoulder. He smiled in happiness, and pressed a kiss to her curly head.

He turned to you. "I just realized, I don't know her name," he said, and you smacked your head.

"Shit sorry, I completely forgot to mention that. Her names Aurorra Enola Cavill. I made sure she got your last name, and that you're on the birth certificate." You said, running your hands through her curly hair.

"Enola? Like Enola Holmes?" He asked, as Aurorra cuddled closer, her chunky arms wrapping around his neck. You nodded.

"Yeah. I couldn't think of a middle name for her, and I was watching Enola Holmes just before she was born. It was the scene where Sherlock and Mycroft see Enola on the train platform and you say her name. I knew then it was perfect." You said, and Henry smiled.

"It's a beautiful name," he said, wrapping his free arm around you. The three of you stood there for a few minutes, before Aurorra shook her hands at you, and tried to wiggle out of Henry's arms.

"Ah dun, Mama." She said. Henry pressed a kiss to her chunky cheek, and let her onto the floor. She scurried away seconds later, towards her bedroom.

"Is she okay wandering by herself?" He asked, watching her little body fall to her hands and knees, but get up and brush it off before continuing on her mission.

"Yeah she'll be fine. She's just going to play." You said, and Henry nodded before pulling you into his arms fully.

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you about her. I couldn't contact you or anyone in your family, and I didn't have the energy during my pregnancy or after to make the journey to London. I promise I didn't plan on hiding her forever." You said, and Henry squeezed you even tighter.

"It's okay. I know you'd never do something like that on purpose. You've done an amazing job raising her. I just wish I had witnessed it."

"You'll get to see her grow. You might have missed her start life, but I have everything recorded. Her first breath, her first steps, her first words, all of it. I know it's not the sam-" You said, but were cut off by his lips.

His hand travelled up to cup your face, before he pulled away. "Sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I just- You amaze me, you know that?" He said and you giggled.

"How so?" You questioned.

He rested his forehead on yours before continuing. "You thought to record everything. You made sure she has my last name and that I'm on the birth certificate. You didn't have to do that, but you did. I've missed you so much, and I didn't know just how much until I saw you in ASDA. I never should have left. I never should have blocked you." He said, a tear falling from his blue eyes. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that alone. Thats never what I wanted. But, I promise to be the best dad to her, whether we're together or not."

"I know you will be," You said, and pulled Henry in for another kiss.

The groceries were put away a few minutes later and you told Henry to go and play with Aurorra while you cooked, which he happily did.

He walked down the hallway to her bedroom, and smiled lovingly when he saw his daughter sitting on the ground playing with blocks, a stuffed Akita just like Kal secure under her arm. She was babbling to a Mickey Mouse toy that sat in the corner of the room, and was stacking blocks.

Henry began to walk in the room when she stopped babbling let out a sneeze and a sigh. He grabbed a Kleenex from the change table and sat down next to her.

"Hey sweetheart, can I wipe your nose?" Henry asked, seeing the snot coming from her nose due to the sneeze. She looked up at him and giggled, which Henry took as a yes, and he wiped her nose quickly before disposing of it in the garbage can.

She began babbling again, and pushed the Akita stuffy into his hands. "Goggy," She said, and clapped, which made Henry smile.

"It is a doggy. I have a doggy like your stuffy, wanna see?" He asked, and she nodded and clapped.

Henry pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture of Kal. Aurorra stood up and clambered into his lap, which Henry welcomed. When she saw the picture of Kal, she started bouncing and clapping again.

"Goggy! Goggy wun!" She exclaimed when he showed her a video of him running.

"Thats right, he is running. He's really good at it too, believe me." Henry said and put his phone away. Aurorra stood up and reached out her arm for him, opening and closing her fist. Henry stood up, and let her take his big hand in her tiny one, and lead him out of the room, and towards the back door that led to the backyard, babbling the entire way.

"Hold on, honey, we gotta tell Mama we're going outside, okay?" He said and she nodded before running to the kitchen shouting Mama.

Henry watched as she stood in the doorway and babbled before pointing at the door. She held her hand in front of her face and moved it out, closing it into a fist.

"You're going outside?" You asked, and she nodded. Henry saw you bend down and whisper something into her ear with a smile on your face and Aurorra giggle but didn't think much of it, before his little girl was running towards him and squealing.

He scooped her up and carried her out the door. She pointed at the toy box in the corner of the yard and Henry carried her over. He sat her down and opened it, before letting her pick what she wanted to play with. She grabbed a bucket with shovels and molds before running over to the lady bug sandbox and patting the lid. Henry chuckled and pulled the lid off.

"You wanna play in the sand?" He asked, and she nodded before climbing in.

Henry sat down next to her, and a shovel was thrust into his hand seconds later. She had a bright yellow one in her own hand and was digging a hole. Henry followed suit and helped her dig the hole.

A few minutes later she handed Henry a elephant mold.

"Put, Dada." She said, and Henry's breath caught in his throat, the mold falling from his hand.

"Did you say Dada?" He asked her, tears clouding his vision, and he saw her smile and point at the house.

"Mama, say." she said, picking up the elephant mold again.

"Mama told you I'm your Dada?"

She nodded and shook the mold in his face, practically begging him to take it. Henry smiled and pulled her out of the sand box, into his arms.

"I am your Dada, and I promise you I will love you forever." He said, and kissed her cheeks. She giggled before pointing at the sand box and doing grabby hands. Henry chuckled but put her back where she was. He picked up the mold and began to fill it with sand before she got upset.

"I apologize for interrupting your playtime," He said. "Now, lets make some animals."

Later that night, when Aurorra had been fed and put to bed, Henry pressed another kiss to your lips.

"She called me Dada when we were playing outside." He confessed and your eyes lit up.

"Really? I told her before she went out with you that you were her Dada, I wasn't expecting her to say it so soon!" You exclaimed. Henry chuckled, and pulled you into his lap.

"I'm so happy she did. Thank you for giving me her." He said, pressing his lips to yours before you could respond.

[bestiesenpai]

itadori + sukuna, twins + babysitting

This is a mix of headcanons and a fic. Also, I’m going to do this as a ‘reader was their babysitter years ago but now everyone is all grown up and seeing each other again’ type thing. And femme reader!

Sorry if Itadori is a little OOC it just fits the plot, tw: dubconish? Maybe?

Babysitting Yuji and Sukuna was fun and an easy way to make money

They were the twins a few years younger than you across the street, so it was only natural for their parents to enlist your help in watching them

The pay was good, and while dealing with Sukunas practically destructive tendencies drained you at times, it was still fun to hang out with them and grow up together

Yuji was nice and sometimes a bit of a crybaby, whether it be because Sukuna did something or because he just wanted to cry that day

He often told Sukuna off for being bad and messing with you, but a lot of the times Yuji was just trying to save face when he and Sukuna got caught doing something troublesome

Sukuna, we already know is a little devil child and lived to annoy you

Ya know the meme of ‘what do you have? A KNIFE! No!’ that is Sukuna lol he knows he can be good and get your attention that way but where is the fun in that?! Answer there is no fun in that

As they get older and their parents don’t call you around anymore, they do get sad and complain

You’re just older than them that they can’t hang out with you outside of you babysitting them, it’d be weird

So they try to let you go, but you’re always in the back their minds, especially when they see you out with friends or something and they can’t stop looking at you

They’ve always had a crush, always.

And when you go away for college every year, they’re devastated. They come to say goodbye and you ruffle their hair like you used to and promise that you’ll visit them when you come back for break

And let’s be real they mark that shit on their calendar and wait for the day you come back

Sukuna is the one to invite you into the house when you come to visit them on your school break. He can’t keep his eyes off the way you fill out your clothes and the way your ass moves when you walk. You’ve grown up a lot, but so have they.

“Aw, I remember this!” You grin, holding up a picture frame of the three of you together the summer you got braces.

“Yeah.” Sukuna chuckles and closes the door. Yuji is here too, awkwardly sitting on his bed and staring at you with hearts in his eyes. Setting down the frame, you fall back onto the bed Yuji is sitting on. Even as they grow older, they still share a bedroom, and you can see Sukunas messy half of the room.

“(Y/N).” Yuji says softly, grabbing your hand in his. This isn’t uncommon for him, he used to beg you to hold his hand when he was younger. Lacing your fingers together, the smile you send him has him squeezing your hand tightly.

Sukuna had been standing at the door for a while now, fiddling with a stereo trying to pick the right background music. Finally settling on something, you don’t hear the click of the lock on the door and you certainly don’t notice the way the two of them share a look.

“Hey (Y/N).” Sukuna grunts, sitting on your other side.

“Yeah?”

“What’s college like? You’ve been there a couple years, you’re a veteran.” He puts an arm around your shoulder, leaning back and making his chest appear bigger to try and impress you.

“I only just started my third year.” Chuckling, you lean into him a little bit.

“Yeah, but still.”

“It’s way different than high school, that’s for sure. You two will like it when you go.”

“I wish we could go to college at the same time!” Yuji groans, curling himself into your side and pouting. “I want to go to classes with you.”

“Fuck classes, I want to go to parties.” Sukuna cuts in. “College parties must be wild, huh? You can tell us, (Y/N).”

“Some of them are.” Wrapping your arm around Yuji, you adjust to let him cuddle more into your side. Sukuna lets out a loud snort and shakes his head, not believing a word you say.

“C’mon (Y/N), you can be honest. I bet all you do at these parties is drink and fuck.” Neither Sukuna nor Yuji have ever spoken to you like that before. Your relationship was always kept PG-13 at most, a few gross crude jokes about making out and having sex when you were younger, but nothing vulgar.

“Well-” Your face flushes with heat, and Yuji is quick to sit up and look at you with owlish eyes.

“Is that true, (Y/N)? You fuck at these parties?”

“Guys!” Slapping a hand over your now burning face, you don’t miss the way they chuckle. “How is that any of your business?”

“C’mon, we aren’t kids anymore! We can talk about this stuff!” Sukuna scoffs, and the arm around your shoulder shakes you from side to side. “Just tell us, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Yeah, we’re older now.” Sitting up a little straighter, Yuji’s hand that was holding yours let's go and settles on your thigh. Biting your lip, you look between the two identical boys. Their stares are unwavering and nearly enough to make you too embarrassed to speak.

“Yes, I have fucked at these parties-” As soon as the words leave your mouth Sukuna lets out a holler and laughs, jostling you further.

“I knew it!”

“What’s it like, (Y/N)?” Yuji questions, and his hand squeezes your thigh tightly. The two of them have fully encased you, making it impossible to squirm out of their hold or escape their eyes.

“I don’t know if I should tell you.” They aren’t the same young kids you used to babysit. They’re fully grown men now, still growing into themselves but old enough that if you saw them at one of your college parties, you wouldn’t bat an eye.

“Please!” It only takes Yuji a little more pushing to get you to crack.

“It’s not that great a lot of the time, really. The boys at my college aren’t the best lay if you can believe it.” Rolling your eyes at the memory of your most recent escapade, you relax a little bit. “I mean honestly, how is it impossible for them to find the clit when I literally point right at it?”

“What a joke!” Sukuna chuckles, and his arm drops to settle around your waist. His fingers splay across your ribs, cupping just under your breast. “(Y/N) if you were with us we could make you feel ten times better!”

“Yeah, okay.” Laughing lightly at the proclamation, you think nothing of the way Yuji wraps his arms around your hips. He’s got a pout on his lips and his fingers start to dip beneath the waistband of your bottoms.

“We’re serious.” He says, eyes scrunched up a little from how intense he is. “We love you (Y/N), we can make you feel better than anyone else.”

“You love me?” Quirking a brow, you look at both of them. Yuji always said he loved you when he was younger, but Sukuna had always denied it with a fierce blush on his cheeks.

“We do, what about it?” There’s the telltale blush on his cheeks. Sukuna can see your smirk and it pisses him off, so much that he pushes you down to the bed.

Wrestling with Sukuna was a pastime the two of you enjoyed when you were annoying one another. He’d push you, you’d push him, and then the two of you would end up in a mess of limbs on the floor. This time felt no different, and you fought back like you always did. Wriggling away from him and trying to pin him down, you somehow ended up in the middle of the bed with Sukuna sitting on your legs.

“Ha, I win.” He says breathlessly. It wasn’t a fair fight to be honest, he and Yuji had begun working out ever since they hit puberty, so his strength easily outmatched yours. You easily conceded and tried to sit up, but Sukuna didn’t budge.

“Let me up.” You try to yank your legs out from under him but he just pushes more of his weight on you. Yuji is on the bed as well, sitting near your chest and looking at you with that same starry eyed look. He’s not looking at you, he’s looking at the way your shirt clings to your chest, the outline of your bra clear as day for him.

“(Y/N), will you let us show you how good we can make you feel?” He asks, licking his lips nervously. His hand settles on your stomach, palm hot and itching to feel your breast. You don’t answer, and they take that as a green light.

Sukuna is the first to take his shirt off, flexing the muscles he’s worked hard to get. Yuji follows suit, and they take their pants off as well, leaving you the most dressed person in the room. There was an argument brewing in the back of your throat, saying that it was wrong to do this since you’d known them for so long. But now, seeing them as they wanted to be seen, burgeoning men that clearly had a desire to be with you, that argument seemed silly.

“What-” You start, and the word catches in your throat for a moment at what you’re about to say. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh baby.” Sukuna lets out a low groan, an almost sickening grin stretching his cheeks. “We’ve done a lot of research.” His hands are already working your bottoms down your legs, leaving you in your panties.

“(Y/N), lift your arms.” Yuji whispers, tugging your shirt off. They’re both silent when they see your nearly naked body; something they���d fantasized about many times. Leaning down, Yuji kisses you abruptly, and that sets Sukuna off to take your panties off as well. Yuji takes your bra off, placing it with the large pile of clothes on the floor.

Climbing off your legs, Sukuna forces them open, nearly kneeing Yuji in the face when he pushes your legs up.

“Shit. Look at this.” Yanking Yuji by the shoulder, they both settle between your legs and stare directly at your cunt. In that moment, you’re reminded of their inexperience and lack of knowledge, and it’s almost innocent.

Spreading your lower lips with two fingers, Yuji leans forward, puckers his lips, and spits onto your cunt, making it clench around nothing.

Innocence, gone.

“What should we start with first?” Sukuna asks, giving you a once over.

“What do you want to do? I know you always talk about tasting her.” Yuji, always so polite, scoots back and lets his brother take up all the space between your legs.

“Thanks little bro.”

“You’re only older by two minutes.”

“Best two minutes of my life.” Laughing, Sukuna slaps your thighs with both hands and moves to lay on his stomach. “Just relax, (Y/N). We’re going to take good care of you.” Yuji is also laying down with his mouth hovering over one of your nipples.

“Yeah (Y/N).” Yujis breath fans over your nipple, and his eyes are torn between looking at you and looking at your chest. “We love you.”

[helliontherapscallion]

Catching Up (Adrenaline Junkie Part 9)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 2,156         

“Did you kidnap a child?”

“I can ex- wait what? Of course I didn’t! Why would you think that?”

“Well, for starters, you just came home with a random kid! What were-”

“Dad. I didn’t kidnap anybody, especially Arthur,” you said exasperated. “It started when I was leaving the village.”

And so, you told your dad about how you met Arthur. Needless to say, he was furious. “(Y/n) (m/n) Minecraft, you yelled at a child? Not just a child, but an orphan that was so clearly in need of help?! I raised you better than that.”

“Dad, I know that yelling at kids is wrong. Just-just let me finish.”

He gave you a wicked side eye and nodded at you to continue. “So then he told me that he was alone. That he had no family. I couldn’t just leave him out there Dad. He would’ve been alone in the city. Hell, he’s been alone for god knows how long already” you ran a stressed hand through your already messy hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you if he could crash here-”

“(Y/n).”

“-but he could’ve got hurt! The village’s dangerous at night-”

“(Y/n).”

“Do you know how many people get mugged there just in a day? God, I can’t imagine him getting hurt, he’s so young and-”

“(Y/n) (m/n) Minecraft.” Your hand froze in your hair. “...Yeah?”

“It was a good idea to bring him here. But there’s gotta be someone out there looking for him.”

“I really don’t think so Dad. You saw him when I brought him here, he looked like he didn’t get a proper bath in months! Even if he did have someone, I’d rather him be here instead of with the bastards that left him like that.”

He sighed. “You’re right. I remember when I found you when you were a baby. Your biological parents were awful, they ignored you. I found you on the porch, they must’ve left you there overnight. You were filthy and you were so small and fragile. I remember being so pissed that they treated you like that, but they never gave me their names.”

You squinted at him. “You’ve never told me that. You told me that you found me in an alleyway.”

“I didn’t want to tell you how I actually found you, it was never important for you to know.”

“What do you mean it’s not impor-” you stopped yourself. That’s not important right now. “We’re going to talk about this later. Right now, we need to talk about Arthur before he gets out of the shower.”

Glancing at the clock, you felt worry engulf your being. “Speaking of, he’s been in there a while, do you think he’s okay?” You felt your heart drop. “What if he slipped!” You stood up in a panic. Philza pulled you back onto the bed giving you a knowing look.

“He’s okay hun. Remember, he’s probably just enjoying the shower.”

You bounced your leg. “You’re right, you’re right… What’s with that look?”

“What look?”

“That look.”

“I just think-”

You heard a knock on your door and a small voice calling your name. Immediately jumping up and forgetting about the conversation, you opened your door. 

“Hey buddy, have a good shower?”

He yawned, rubbing at his eye with a closed fist. The pajamas he wore were slightly too big, but he would grow into them. His auburn hair that he came in the house with was now a brilliant copper color and you could now make out freckles dotting his pale cheeks.

“Mhm.”

You softly smiled at him and grabbed his hand leading him to Wilbur’s old room since it had the comfiest bed. You helped the small-statured boy into the large bed and he flopped down without pulling the covers over himself. You huffed in amusement, pulling the soft blankets out from under him and tucking him in.

You spoke in a calm voice, not wanting to disrupt the peace that engulfed the room. You gently brushed the hair out of his face. “Sleep well, Artie.”

As you stood up and turned to walk away, he grabbed the back of your shirt. Glancing back, you saw that he had his eyes groggily half-open and he stared at you blearily. “Stay?”

Oh, you couldn’t say no to that. Feeling your heart melt, you whispered “of course buddy.” You pulled up an old chair and sat next to the bedside holding his small hand in your larger one. He was out like a light. 

He was so small for his age. It was probably because of the malnutrition from being homeless, and that broke your heart. Your poor, poor baby.

…Wait.

Wait.

Your poor baby? What the fuck were you thinking? This child doesn’t even know you, you only met him earlier in the day. And yet, you already felt affectionate towards him. You wanted to protect him from danger. Why were you feeling like this?

You heard the door creak open and a small sliver of light streamed into the room. Philza poked his head through the small crack in the door. He smiled at you when he saw you sitting next to Arthur holding his hand as he slept. Reaching in an arm, he gestured for you to follow him before slipping out and closing the door.

Reluctantly, you slowly let go of the boy’s slender hand and quietly opened the nightstand drawer. You pulled out a pen and paper and wrote a quick note for him in the morning in your messy handwriting.

“Arthur, when you wake up, Philza and I’ll be downstairs making breakfast. Hope you like bacon and eggs : )

-(Y/n)”

You placed the paper on the nightstand where you hoped that Arthur would see when he woke up and quietly left the room. Philza leaning against the wall greeted you. He was smiling softly at you. He once again gestured for you to follow him downstairs.

Philza felt ecstatic that you were going to give him another grandson. Even if you would inevitably deny being a parental figure to Arthur, he knew that you were going to accept it sooner or later. He raised you, so he should know when you deeply care for someone. Arthur and you both shared a love for innovation and creativity, so he knew that you two would bond over that. He felt like soaring high in the sky. He was so happy that there’s going to be another addition to the family soon. 

He sat you down onto the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. A few moments later, he came back with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Your favorite.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime hun.”

You both sat in a comfortable silence on the couch and stared into the crackling flame in the fireplace. The fire swirled with various reds, oranges, and yellows illuminating the living room. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the flavor of the chocolate and the smell of smoke with the fire popping in the background. You felt relaxed.

“So, how’s Tommy and Wilbur? Are they adjusting well to L’manberg?”

“Oh, they’re thriving. Wilbur’s a natural leader so he’s in his element and Tommy’s always exploring with Tubbo. They get into trouble sometimes, but they always come back in one piece, so I’m not worried about them. They’re having fun.”

“And you?”

“I set up my new workshop next to the capitol building. I think I’m gonna start selling some of the stuff I make, I think it’d make a decent profit.”

“I think that’s a great idea. Ya know that the people in the village are crazy about you, right?”

You groaned, dragging your hand down your face tiredly. “How could I not? I hate it.”

“Why would you hate it? They really admire your work, you should appreciate that.”

“Dad, I do appreciate that they admire my work, but do you remember how they treated me when I first went there after I lost my wing? They treated me like a fucking outcast. And now they’re acting like they actually know me and that they were always friends with me. I know everybody deserves a second chance, but I can’t help but feel like they’re on thin ice.” 

“People change hun. Maybe they realize that how they treated you was wrong and they want to make amends?”

“That’s the thing. They’re only treating me like this only because of my inventions. I can only tolerate it for so long. I don’t even know why they’re treating me like this, I’m not special. I’m just another person.”

“...You aren’t gonna let a few two-faced people ruin your vacation, right?”

“No.”

His cheeks slowly stretched into a smile. “Why? Who are you?”

“I’m (y/n)?”

“I said who. Are. You?”

You spoke up a little more confidently, but kept your voice down. “I’m (y/n) (m/n) Minecraft.”

He quietly laughed. “Damn right you are. You’re ‘(Y/n) Minecraft, Conqueror of the Unknown’. You’re (y/n) goddamn Minecraft and don’t you forget it.”

You chuckled. “You read that book? ‘(Y/n) Minecraft, Conqueror of the Unknown’ was a bit too dramatic for my taste.”

“Why wouldn’t I read something all about my precious little inventor?” He drug out with an overly sweet tone.

“Dad, I’m 20 years old. I’m not little anymore.”

He slung an arm across your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “I know, I know, but you’ll always be my child.”

You sighed and leaned into him. You haven’t spent any time with him since you left the house to help Wilbur and Tommy fight for independence, so this felt nice. “I missed you Dad.”

“Not a day goes by where I don’t miss you or your brothers. It’s way too quiet around here without you four.”

“Do you remember when Tommy put green dye in the shampoo to try and prank me?”

An almost silent laugh reverberated throughout his chest, sounding slightly muffled. “Of course I do. It took at least a few weeks to get it off my skin and a full month after that to get it out of my hair.”

“You should’ve seen his face when I walked into the kitchen in the morning,” you deepen your voice. “‘If you’re not in the shower, then who is?’ Aaaannd then you walked into the kitchen looking like you lost a fight with a witch.” You snorted. “You didn’t know why everyone was staring at you.”

He huffed. “You guys didn’t even tell me until after breakfast.”

“Have you seen yourself in the mornings? You’re literally so grumpy. We didn’t have a death wish.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad in the morning, Mx. I-can’t-function-without-eight-hours-of-sleep.”

“At least I’m fully awake in the morning.”

“Oh, wow, what a zinger,” he said in a monotone voice.

You reached up to playfully slap his arm. “Shuddup.”

You both quietly laughed before the room fell back into a comfortable silence. You took a deep breath. “Arthur knows about The Warden. What it did to me”

You felt him tense up and heard his heart start to beat a little faster. He moved his arm away and leaned back to look you in the eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. He said that he knew what happened and he needed my help. He… he said that The Warden took someone important to him.”

“Was it his paren-”

“I don’t know. I’m going to talk to him about it tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to talk to him with you?”

“I don’t know if Arthur’s comfortable with that yet. I’m not even sure if he trusts me enough to tell me.”

You grabbed your’s and Philza’s empty mugs and took them to the kitchen. You ran your hands down your face. You felt very drained after everything that happened today. You weren’t used to so much human interaction, let alone people staring at you like you were some kind of deity when you weren’t. You leaned against the sink and closed your eyes. 

“(Y/n), I’m turning in for the night. Is there anything you need before I go to bed?”

“No, thank you Dad.”

“Alright, goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You heard his retreating footsteps gradually fade out and the room was thick with silence yet again. The darkness in the room was cut by the moonlight streaming in through the window. Your mind was racing as you remembered that you were going to have to talk to Arthur about The Warden soon. 

You hadn’t talked about The Warden for years and now you were being forced into it. You didn’t think you were ready. You wanted to move on with your life, but The Warden was inevitable. It was everywhere around you. It won’t ever leave you alone, will it?

You didn’t think you were going to get much sleep tonight.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam

@bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash4  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @lestrangenymph  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @sparkling-gayyyy  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional  @used-avocado  @laura--444  @wing-non

[empressapprentice]

Arcana Headcanons: Infidelity + M6

I’m back with more headcanons, and will be sharing even more soon as I have more free time! My last batch was super sweet and fluffy, these are decidedly not. I’m doing these headcanons as character study exercises, and since the LIs are so devoted to you in-game, I wanted to think about what could possibly motivate them to cheat. Not all of these involve sex because I thought that certain characters would consider emotional interactions cheating on their partner. But warning for non-explicit sexual content for several of the M6--I’d say this is PG-13. These are kind of long, but I felt I needed some good exposition to set things up. I hate how much I enjoy angst :( Feedback and requests are always welcomed: if you hate it or love it, let me know why so I can improve! Plus, check out my Ao3 here, where I’ll be posting these as well.

Asra

Asra will never, ever regret giving up half his heart for you. But one night, he can’t sleep, feeling regret for the friendships and relationships he missed out on because it’s so difficult to form connections with others. He wishes that while he waited for you to recover from the resurrection, he’d been able to let others into his life.

He’s slept with people other than you (Julian, for one), but not since you woke up after the ritual. He realizes that he can’t remember any of his previous encounters. He completely forgot what anyone other than you feels like to hold and to touch.

The next day, he tells you that he wants to take a quick overnight trip to Nopal. With such late notice, you can’t tag along. He just wants to spend some time alone and actually get to know the villagers for once, intending to practice his social skills and break the cycle of isolation he unintentionally maintained with the people there.

When he sits around the fire, eating and sharing stories with the villagers, a handsome young man approaches him. He says that he’s always had a crush on the mysterious magician, but could tell that Asra was never open to getting to know anyone. Asra, remembering that he doesn’t know what it’s like to be close to someone else, starts flirting back. Before he knows it, his lips are brushing against the stranger’s.

The moment their lips meet, Asra pulls back sharply, overcome with guilt for betraying your trust. He shakily apologizes to the young man, saying he didn’t know what came over him. He runs back to his hut, gets on the Beast and travels back to Vesuvia as fast as possible. Faust comforts him as he sobs silently, thinking about never wanting to leave your arms again.

Nadia

Nadia is visiting a neighboring territory and sitting through a very, very boring dinner with dignitaries. She’s been away from Vesuvia for a week and anticipates having to stay for at least one more as negotiations drag on. She’s loath to admit it, but she’s lonely. The letters you’ve exchanged via Chandra only make the separation more painful.

So when a diplomat approaches her with questions about Vesuvia, she’s happy to have some company. She clearly admires Nadia quite a bit and compliments the work she’s done to turn Vesuvia around.

While basking in her companion’s kind words, she unconsciously moves closer to the other woman. It doesn’t take long for the conversation to become personal, moving away from professional networking. And even more quickly, the conversation becomes flirty. When Nadia moves her hand to touch the other woman, her intentions are clear. The diplomat is flattered, but hesitant, asking, “Aren’t you married?”

Nadia is momentarily stunned by the question, but refuses to lose her composure. The lie comes easily, from years of schmoozing fellow politicians. She replies that her marriage is open. The diplomat smiles, unaware of the shame pooling in Nadia’s core. She sheepishly invites the Countess back to her room.

Though the dinner is long over and the party moved into the sitting room for a digestif, many having already left, Nadia finds herself worried how it would look for the two of them to leave together. She hates herself for worrying more about appearances than you, but she’s been particularly hungry for the feel of a body next to her in bed and she’s frustrated at not being able to get what she wants for once. So, she agrees.

She excuses herself, saying that she must retire for the night, and waits a few moments for the diplomat to leave as well.

Nadia excuses herself after the shameful act, saying she must be in her own bed when servants come to wake her in the morning. She spends the rest of the night staring at her ceiling, vowing to never tell you about her indiscretion. You find out, of course, knowing your wife too well for her to hide that something’s wrong.

Julian

One night, he goes to the Rowdy Raven and is mid-tankard of Salty Bitters while animatedly telling the story of how he helped defeat the Devil. When he finishes weaving the tale, he heads back to the bar to another drink. Before he can get his coin purse to pay, an extremely attractive stranger tells Barth to put it on their tab--payment for the entertaining story.

Julian gratefully accepts, sliding into a seat to chat with the stranger. Whether consciously or unconsciously, Julian turns his charm up even more, wanting to make sure he keeps them entertained. They swap introductions, Julian’s natural tendency to call people affectionate names and his rakish attitude being interpreted as flirtation.

As the stranger returns the affection, Julian realizes what’s happening but doesn’t want to stop it. He’s practically glowing from the kind words flowing from the mouth of his new friend and is addicted to the feeling. A nagging voice tells him he should get back home to you, but it is quieted when the stranger moves closer to him, running a finger over his chest.

The stranger downs their drink and gets up abruptly. They tell Julian to finish his drink and meet them in the alley outside, with a cheeky comment about seeing what else his mouth could do thrown over their shoulder as they walk out the back of the tavern.

Julian’s breath catches at the thought of a clandestine alleyway quickie, and he can’t deny how appealing the idea seems to him. He stares at the drink remaining in his glass, fighting a mental war over whether to finish it quickly and run to the alley.

Barth approaches Julian, noticing he was about to finish his latest drink and anticipating a request for a refill. While waiting for Julian to finish, he makes light conversation with him. When he asks how you are doing, Julian bolts upright. His face reddens at the mention of your name, knowing he made a grave mistake even considering the stranger’s offer.

Julian leaves the rest of his drink untouched. He awkwardly gets up, says goodnight to Barth and hopes that he won’t run into the stranger when he exits the Raven out the front door. Mercifully, he doesn’t, but he might not have even noticed, he was so focused on getting back to you.

When he reaches the front door of the place you share, he’s sobbing. Even though it’s late, you are waiting up for him, knowing that he often needs you to offer him water and get him to eat some food after a night out. He falls on his knees before you, utterly broken by the kindness of you waiting to take care of him, and begs you to listen to him one last time. He tells you, again, that he is no good for you and it is inevitable he will break your heart. He confesses everything that happened at the bar, his voice breaking when he says how close he was to cheating on you. He admits in a small voice that he will never be worthy of you--despite all he’s changed, he’s always one step away from hurting you.

Lucio

Lucio is dressed in a new outfit, finely made and very flattering. He is about to attend a party at his estate in honor of the summer solstice. The last step in his pre-party ritual before joining you and making a grand entrance fashionably late is to admire himself in the mirror. He poses and struts in front of it, hyping himself up for the night, but stopping short as he notices a grey hair in his meticulously coiffed style.

Moving closer to the mirror, he is horrified that several other grey hairs have popped out since the last time he dyed his hair, not long ago. Stepping back, he frantically tries to change the style to hide them, shrieking as he realizes the wrinkles on his forehead are deeper than he remembers. The time-honored ritual, which has never failed to put him in the right mindset for a night of socialization, has only made him more self-conscious about his age than ever.

He starts pacing around his room, heels clicking and mind racing. He feels a strange sense of longing for his old life, when he had no responsibilities and never worried about the consequences of his actions. He’s old now, and he wishes for the freedom and stupidity of youth.

When he makes the grand entrance with you at the party, his heart isn’t really in it. He immediately heads for a servant, demanding a glass of hard liquor instead of his usual sparkling wine. One glass turns into several, and it’s not long before he’s very intoxicated. You see Lucio drinking more than usual, but you keep getting distracted by guests and can’t figure out what’s going on with him.

Once he’s drunk enough to not care about anything--just as he intended--he makes eye contact with an attractive woman in a slinky gown and winks. His rough flirting works, as the woman comes up to him. He feels a mixture of pride and shame that he’s still attractive and powerful enough to draw someone in with nothing more than a wink.

They chat briefly, but they both know Lucio desires more than conversation and the guest is more than willing to oblige. He takes the woman’s hand, leading her to an alcove far away from the party and they begin to make out. Soon his pants are at his ankles and they’re doing far more than kissing. It’s rough, messy and fast, exactly the thing he would have done in his life before he got the plague and before you.

The woman leaves him panting when they’ve both finished. His stomach drops as he realizes that this cheap attempt at feeling young again only made him feel worse. He realizes with a start that he jeopardized the thing that actually fulfills him and makes him truly happy.

Muriel

Muriel dislikes social interactions with pretty much everyone, especially strangers. How could he possibly cheat on you when he can hardly stand to spend time around his friends?

But as he becomes more comfortable with being around people, he starts spending time around the Palace. Usually, he’s waiting for you to finish your duties with Nadia so he can walk you home or go back to the shop for dinner, but sometimes he comes early so he can spend a quiet moment in the gardens.

The more time he spends at the Palace, befriending some of Lucio’s poorly-behaved albino animals and trying to train them, the more time he spends with a certain servant determined to befriend him.

At first, they don’t even catch his attention, he’s so used to tuning other people out. But this servant notices his gentle nature and sometimes brings him some water or tea and a pastry while he’s sitting by the fountain. They claim that they’ve been trained to always serve the needs of their guests, but they’re mostly interested in getting Muriel to open up.

After several weeks of Muriel becoming used to the servant and accepting that they can be trusted, he begins exchanging a few words with them beyond a grunted thanks for the refreshments. The way the servant approaches him reminds him of you and he finds he doesn’t mind light conversation to entertain him and distract him from Lucio’s pets.

One day, he realizes with a start that he not only trusts the servant and enjoys their company, but that he finds them attractive. He panics, not knowing how to tell you. He feels so ashamed of himself for letting someone new in and he’s never felt attracted to someone like this before, other than with you. He’s confused on how to handle his feelings and how he should tell you, if at all.

He confesses the situation to Asra before going to you. Asra is very kind and supportive, saying that it is natural to find other people attractive and that it’s a good sign that he is willing to let a stranger befriend him. But Muriel can’t shake the idea that he’s done wrong by you and refuses to come back to the gardens.

Portia

Given how much Portia likes secrets and romance stories, I think a part of her would love the idea of a sneaky romance. Portia is a deeply practical person, but there are times where she can get carried away with romanticism. The thrill of getting away with it and using her knowledge of the secret passages in the Palace, etc. to hide a tryst holds some appeal to her, but she’d feel ashamed of even fantasizing about it.

She has to work on the first night of the Masquerade after the events of the game due to her new responsibilities at the Palace. Out of solidarity, you work too, creating real-time magical spectacles to surprise guests. To keep up the aesthetic, you’re both still wearing costumes and masks.

While Portia is in the ballroom, she’s fretting over the floral displays and a heavily intoxicated person knocks into her, sending the vase flying. Before Portia can even react, she falls into strong arms, rescuing her from the splashing water and strewn flowers. She turns to thank the stranger, and they say she can express her gratitude by granting them a dance. In the spirit of the Masquerade, she accepts.

She and the stranger twirl around the dance floor to a fast-paced song. The stranger is a fantastic dancer and leads Portia through the steps flawlessly. They end the song by dipping her low. The music switches to a slow ballad while the lights dim. Still breathless, the stranger pulls Portia close, and she loses herself in the moment. The ambiance is incredible, and kissing a gorgeous masked stranger at a ball could not be more storybook-perfect. Their lips touch, until a swirl of magical energy brushes her and she remembers you. She steps back from the stranger and runs off, forgetting about her duties, the flowers on the ground and the rest of the Masquerade. She feels horrible about kissing someone other than you but can’t shake the smug pleasure deep inside her that loves her fairytale romance coming to life.

[nightshade-minho]

-Sleep? What’s that?-

Warnings: unprotected sex, degradation, master kink, praise, breeding kink, mentions of cheating, light exhibitionism, roommates au. jisung makes an appearance.

Word Count: 1.7k

Seungmin couldn't take one more second of this torture.

This was the fourth consecutive night where he lay awake, your moans gracing his ears and leaving him with blue balls.

It wasn't like you were being very loud...the walls were a little too thin in this apartment ever since he'd moved in. Even his headphones couldn't quite mask the sound of your moans right. He tossed and turned in bed, the fact that this was going to be yet another sleepless night making him grumble in frustration.

Usually, after you masturbated, you'd turn right around and go to sleep. However, a room away, Seungmin found it terribly difficult to fall asleep...the raging boner he was usually left with made sure of that. In the mornings, he'd always consider bringing it up...he prided himself in his straightforwardness, but somehow when it came to you, all that was thrown out of the window.

It didn't help that you looked especially cute in the mornings...all messy hair and blushy cheeks, clad in your soft pyjamas and bunny slippers.

He sighed, covering his ears. At that very moment, you let out a whimper that sounded so heavenly, that Seungmin just couldn't take it anymore.

He threw the covers off, standing up and walking over to your room quickly.

He threw the door open. You screamed as you scrambled to cover yourself with the blankets, pulling your fingers out of your pussy.

"Seungmin, what the fu-"

"Shhh." He said irritably. "It's 2:30. Let's not wake all the neighbours up."

You sputtered in disbelief, clearing your throat. "I...um, please don't barge into my room like that...you woke me up so suddenl-"

"Cut the bullshit. I know what you're doing in here, Y/n. In fact, I've known for the past four days. Either stop, or choose another time to do it. One that doesn't prevent me from getting my valuable hours of sleep."

"I..." your cheeks heated up, as you adjusted the covers. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. You're like a 13 year old girl who discovered how to touch herself for the first time. It's all you've been doing."

You felt the embarrassment heat up your cheeks as you finally looked up at him.

Wait.

Your eyes landed on the bulge in his sweatpants, making you let out a loud gasp. Was that a boner?

Seungmin flinched at the sound, following your gaze to his pants. He rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic about it. When you're forced to be exposed to someone's moans for hours on end, this is what happens."

You rubbed at your flushed cheeks, unable to believe that this was actually happening.

Somehow, though...the embarrassment and humiliation you were feeling was slowly drifting into arousal as he continued glaring at you. You opened your mouth and then closed it, wondering if you should just say it.

"What? Spit it out."

You remained silent. Slowly you moved the blankets off of you, Seungmin raising an eyebrow as you did so.

"Wow. You've gotten bold."

His eyes slowly travelled from your face to your soaking pussy, bared to him. Unable to hide the small groan under his breath, Seungmin decided to throw all caution to the wind as he climbed onto the bed.

"What do you want, hm, princess? Don't you think this is a little too slutty, even for you?" He chuckled. As another second of silence passed, Seungmin's smile slowly disappeared.

"I can't read your mind, slut. Speak up, or I'll make sure you regret it."

Your eyes widened. "Um, I'm sorry. I...I want you."

"You do, huh? How exactly do you want me?"

"In any way. Please, I just feel so sexually frustrated and I haven't had a good orgasm in months." You whine, pouting at him.

"Fine. All you want is an orgasm, right? I'll help you get yourself off. Acting like a fucking bitch in heat." He mumbled under his breath, moving further up your bed before grabbing you, pulling you onto his lap.

You looked down at him, the arousal making your whole body feel hot. You couldn't believe you were going to fuck your roommate. It felt a little wrong, but to be honest, you didn't really care.

His eyes slowly travelled from your face to your pussy, narrowing as he felt your wetness soak through the material of his sweatpants.

"Fuck, you're a little whore, aren't you?"

You sighed softly as he grabbed your hips, forcing you to grind down on him. He groaned under his breath at the feeling, lifting you up slightly to pull down his sweatpants.

You gulped as you noticed he wasn't wearing any underwear, letting out a small squeal as he pulled you down, letting the head of his cock brush up against your folds.

"We don't even need any foreplay, do we? That little wet cunt is dripping and ready for my cock~"

You nodded desperately, swallowing as he smirked, his grip on your waist becoming rougher as he slammed you down onto him suddenly, a guttural moan escaping you at the action.

The sudden intrusion rendered you speechless as you gripped his shoulders, your eyes clenching shut. His gaze softened a little as he observed your expression.

"Aww, looks like the little baby isn't used to being stuffed with cock like this? That's okay, darling." His grip on you tightened as he stood up suddenly, taking you over to your window and pressing you up against it. "From now on, you're my little whore and I'm going to teach you just how to be a good cocksleeve for your master, okay?"

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he started thrusting into you, lips attaching to your neck. The moonlight washing over his face made him look so ethereal. He couldn't possibly be human. As his thrusts grew sharper, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, but you knew you had to. You wished you could stare at his beautiful face forever.

"Can't speak, darling?" He cooed, lips trailing down from your neck to your collarbone. He pulled down a strand of your top and started marking you up, leaving soon-to-be bruises all over your chest.

"That's alright. I know I'm fucking you dumb." He pouted at you, fake sympathy filling his face. "It's alright."

He looked down at the spot where you were connected, the sight of your pussy sucking in his cock drawing a grunt out of him. "Fuck...you're a good girl, aren't you? Taking in my cock so well."

The validation was all you craved. You mewled softly, your eyes big and needy as you clenched around his length, letting him know you were close. His hips stuttered as he realized he was nearing his high.

Seungmin narrowed his eyes suddenly as he looked past you. He brought his hand up to grab your cheek, moving it to the side and forcing you to look outside.

"Isn't that the dude you were seeing? Why's he here?"

Your eyes widened as you saw the figure holding a bouquet in his hands, dawdling about in front of your building. Jisung.

"Fuck- I broke up with him ages ago when he cheated on me. Why's he- oh fuck, Seungmin, right there-"

"Shh." He placed a finger on your mouth to silence you. "I'm your master now, baby. And listen to me..." He frowned as he recalled all the times Jisung had been a dick to you, cheating on you multiple times and being a general ass. Yet you always went back to him, falling for his feeble apologies. Not this time. Seungmin was tired of watching from the sidelines. He couldn't let you get your heart broken again.

"...you're not getting back together with him. You need to show this dick that you're over him, once and for all." He growled, watching as the man below entered the building.

"Seu- I mean, M-master..." You whined as he hit your sweet spot repeatedly. " We should stop- he's going to be here any second now- fuck!" You cried out as his cock relentlessly abused your pussy, making you moan incoherently.

Seungmin's ears perked up as he heard the doorbell ring, a smirk growing on his face. "Ah, finally. Now baby, what do you say to getting rid of that bastard once and for all?"

You couldn't respond, letting out a breathless whimper as Seungmin peeled you away from the window, still fucking up into you as he walked through your apartment to the front door. You didn't have the strength to protest anymore, your face buried in his shoulder as your ears registered the sound of him opening the door.

Seungmin found himself relishing the pure shock on Jisung's face. Fuck, he wanted to take a picture of his expression. This was what the asshole deserved.

"Sorry, Han. Get it through your thick-headed skull- she deserves better than you."

Seungmin aimed a particularly rough thrust right at your sweet spot at that very moment, and you keened, your orgasm washing over you so suddenly and solidly, you were almost blown away. The man let out a groan at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, his own high approaching rapidly.

"I think it's safe to say her taste in men has evolved." Seungmin said apologetically, slamming the door on Jisung's shell shocked face.

He pressed you up against the door, pounding into you as he chased his orgasm.

"Ah...I'm going to cum in you sweetheart- fuck, my good little princess, aren't you?"

You nodded slightly, your body weak. You could barely formulate a thought, let alone a sentence as Seungmin rammed into you, his cock feeling like heaven itself.

"That's right. And you'll always be my baby, my angel...shit- I’m going to fill you up with my cum. Maybe you’ll have my babies. How does that sound?" Seungmin hissed as he stared at your fucked out face, falling over the edge as he came, painting your walls white.

He collapsed against you, slowly dragging the two of you down to the floor in exhaustion.

You opened your mouth, a million words resting on the tip of your tongue as you stared at Seungmin, his breathing rough as he came down from his high. His fingers brushed against your entrance as he pulled out, pushing his cum back into you. “Now, now. Wouldn’t want to waste any of it...” He mumbled, lifting his finger to your mouth for you to suck. His gaze was soft as he gathered you close to him, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he shushed you.

"You don't have to talk now, baby, it's fine." He stood up shakily, taking you to his room and laying you on the bed. He got in with you and spooned you, kissing the crook of your neck.

"You're mine, from now on." He whispered, stroking your skin as he nuzzled closer.

"Only mine."

[eternally-writing]

chain reaction 02 | jjk

genre: fluff and angst 

rating: PG 

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series 

word count: 4.6k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember. 

banner by me!

read part 1 here! 

 If you want to be tagged in future parts, send me an ask! 

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

When you had imagined what Jeon Jungkook’s apartment would look like, you had definitely thought it would look something like an evil lair (except messy, because Jungkook definitely struck you as the messy type). 

However, upon stepping into his surprisingly well-finished apartment, you found the exact opposite case. Before this, you had planned to make a ton of jokes based on whatever you would find in Jungkook’s apartment. And the truth was, you still could. 

Jeon Jungkook was an absolute neat freak. You watched the way he subtly shuddered as a fleck of dirt from your shoes travelled off of his doormat and you took note of how his kitchen counter was so clean you could probably eat directly off of it (which was especially rare from someone in college). If he had a roommate, there was no trace of him right now, as the apartment pretty much looked like a showhome.

“I didn’t know you were such a clean freak, Jeon,” you said with a smirk.

For the first time, you saw Jeon Jungkook look the slightest bit timid. 

“I like to keep things tidy, I guess,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. 

He gestured for you to enter his quaint but somehow spacious living room as he sped to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water (he may not like you, but he’d be damned by his mother if she found out he let a guest into his place without giving them a beverage).

You had a very clear game plan when it came to entering Jeon Jungkook’s apartment: Enter. Talk about the project (and nothing else). Grab the chemistry notes from the class you missed on Monday. Leave. 

It definitely seemed like an easy peasy 4 step plan  -  except that all seemed to flow out the window once you saw the photo Jungkook kept on his coffee table. From what you could decipher, it looked like a high school aged Jungkook in a music studio, right in front of the mic, with some of his friends around him. You had never seen Jungkook smile as big as he was in that picture, and it even managed to pull at your heartstrings.

Before you could open your mouth to ask about it, Jungkook had already come over to you and slammed the picture to be face down on the table, leaving smiley high school Jungkook out of sight. 

“An invitation into my apartment isn’t an invitation into my private life, Y/N. Don’t get it twisted.” he said coldly, dropping the glass of water hashly onto a coaster by the picture frame. 

To be fair, you kind of deserved that (and looking into Jungkook’s personal life definitely wasn’t part of your 4 step plan to seeing him today), but he didn’t have to be that mean.  As a peace offering you moved as far away from the photo frame as you could.

“Let’s just get this over with, Jeon. I have a pilates class in an hour on the other side of campus.”

Now Jungkook couldn't pass up that opportunity to make a joke. 

“Pilates, mmm.”  He let out an overexaggerated moan to make his point. 

“ Think you can slip my number to the hot girls there Y/N,” said Jungkook with a smirk. 

“In your dreams Jeon. You’re lucky if any girls will still want your number if you fail organic chemistry, which is what you’re going to do if we don’t work on this project.”

“I think you’re forgetting Y/N.” he said as he bent down, bringing his lips to your ear - “if I go down I’m taking you with me sunshine”. 

Ignoring how his close proximity to you was making your heart race (it was probably due to anger, right??), you jumped away from him and pulled out your macbook.

“Our group contract is due tomorrow so let’s just finish that up and then I’ll be out of your hair okay?” you said with an air of desperation and potentially sexual frustration.

For the most part, you and Jungkook worked in silence besides the occasional sound of you typing or clearing your throat. Looking at the live google doc in front of you and the progress you both were making, you were starting to think that working with Jungkook might not be the worst thing in the world. 

Jeon Jungkook and Y/N L/N : CHEM 251 LAB PRESENTATION CONTRACT

Topic - Green Chemistry 

1. Answer all communication from your partner (emails, messages) within 24 hours

2. Complete all portions of assignments at least 1 day before it is due. 

3. Any changes to your availability should be communicated to your partner. 

4. Y/N will handle the background literature and introduction of the presentation. 

5. Jungkook will look for future applications of Green Chemistry and direct applications of course material in the field of Green Chemistry. 

6. Don’t fall in love with your partner. 

As soon as you saw Jungkook type the last point on the document, you glared at him beside you on the couch. 

“Seriously Jeon? I forgot you have the mindset of a 13 year old boy,” you muttered as he looked at you cockily. 

You took a deep breath as your internal monologue started to run: 

Okay, Y/N. you’re not here to let Jeon Jungkook mess with you. 3 strikes and you’re out of here - there’s no reason to need to keep up with his bullshit (especially since at least the first part of your project was over).

Jungkook had then had to add more rules to your group contract. 

7. Y/N will give out Jungkook’s number to any hot girl at her pilates class. 

You groaned and hastily deleted off the document. 

That was strike 1 for Jungkook. 3 strikes and he’s out. 

Jungkook was still relentless in his attacks. 

“Seriously though Y/N, do you really not think I’m attractive at all? You really don’t want a piece of this?,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and gestured to his body all too suggestively. 

“Cut it out Jeon, I’m not dealing with your shit today,” you hissed, your eyes shooting metaphorical lasers into Jungkook. 

Strike 2: He’s getting close. 

“C’mon Y/N, what’s the chance that you’ll ever be able to bag someone as hot as me. I mean, look at me and look at you!”

Strike 3: you were DONE  with Jeon Jungkook today.

Not even stopping to put on your shoes fully, you took one last glance back at him before you walked out the door. 

“Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The glass of water he got you sat untouched on his coffee table, drops of water spilling onto the photo frame beside it due to his apartment shaking from you slamming his door.

Mirroring the new droplets on his coffee table, you found tears starting to drop across your face as well. 

--♡--

Even though you loved your chemistry lecture, you’re not sure why chemistry labs had such a bad vibe to you. The most obvious explanation for this would be having Jeon Jungkook as a lab partner (especially after your last meeting, the situation speaks for itself). But what could be is probably at least part of the reason is because of what happened in your first year 8AM chem lab. After getting through a grueling 3 hour titration (that you messed up and got no results for in the end), you walked back to your dorm to find your (now ex) boyfriend Jimin in bed with your roommate, Soomi. 

Needless to stay you left that day with one less friend, no boyfriend (and you had also gotten 16/30 on that lab… yikes), so chemistry labs did leave a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth. 

It had been months since that incident, but even after getting a new lease and cutting any ties you remotely had to Jimin, you still carried the insecurity that Jimin instilled in you by cheating on you with someone who you thought of as a sister. 

You had yet to run into Jimin against post-breakup, and had managed to successfully avoid him, until now.

“Y/N?” 

You knew that voice all too well. Turning around, you were met with the sight of your ex, Jimin. As if that wasn’t bad enough, as you looked him over you noticed your old roommate, Soomi, hanging off of his arm. You had no clue that they were still together (you had lost all contact with anyone remotely related to Jimin), and somehow seeing them together hurt you even more. 

Jimin looked even prettier than you had last remembered him; his prince-like hair shone in the afternoon sun, his charming smile seemed even brighter. Knowing Jimin was still with Soomi made you feel that he didn’t even feel a pang of regret for cheating on you, like he didn’t need to take some time by himself to reflect (like you definitely did) or stop to grieve your relationship. From your point of view, it seemed like you never even mattered to Jimin. 

You suddenly felt self conscious of everything under the judgmental gazes of Jimin and Soomi. Those baby hairs that you didn’t bother to pin down with a bobby pin this morning now felt like they were sticking straight out of your head and the pimple that was poking through your concealer on your forehead suddenly felt like a volcano. In your mind, compared to Soomi, you looked like a hot mess.

Your brain was on autopilot for all the small-talk you made with the two of them, and you didn’t snap out of your trance until you heard these words from Jimin. 

“I only wish the best for you Y/N”

You internally scoffed at this statement. Who the fuck was Park Jimin to say that he “wishes the best for you”. You took months to get over him and the hurtful words he said to you. Every mean comment and snarky comparisons he made to you felt like it was tattooed onto your skin and stuck with you forever. But now he was standing in front of you like nothing was wrong?

In a different world, you probably would’ve slapped Jimin across the face. But instead you rose above like your mom taught you to. 

“You as well Jimin.” you said courtly with a nod, trying to stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes from escaping your tear ducts. 

After receiving a small nod from Jimin as a response, you turned around as if you had somewhere to be (in reality, you didn’t have class for another 2 hours).

Getting as far away from Jimin was all you could think about at the moment, and you moved as far as your legs could take you in whatever direction you thought would take you out of your college’s quad, even as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision.

You didn’t know how to feel. You had imagined what seeing Jimin for the first time after the break up would look like; maybe he would grovel at his knees and beg to have you back (it’s not that you wanted to date him again or that you had feelings for him, but it would feel nice to feel wanted), maybe you would just throw a drink in his face and walk away like a bad bitch, maybe you could’ve flashed a new boyfriend in front of his face. 

All of a sudden your phone started to ring.  Your first fear (and somewhat hope) was that it would be Jimin calling you, but little did you know that it was something so much worse.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

“as if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you thought to yourself as you pressed decline. You had yet to talk to Jungkook since that day at his apartment (you didn’t even call to congratulate him on his 

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

You groaned and hit the decline but at the speed of lightning again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

Seriously, could this guy not take a hint? You were tempted to turn your phone off all together, but settled for hitting the decline button again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You realized that for whatever reason, Jungkook was not giving up, so you either had to answer him or listen to your ringtone of “Love Killa” by Monday X play every 10 seconds. Praying that your voice wouldn’t betray you, you took a deep (albeit shaky) breath and tried your best to wipe your tears before clicking “answer”.

“Look Jeon, I’m - uh - sorry but I really can’t do this right now okay? I’ll call you later.” you choked out, your voice obviously wavering as you tried to be as professional as possible. 

Before you could press the “end call button” you heard Jungkook’s concerned voice through the speakers.

“Y/N, wait, you don’t sound too good. Are you okay?”

Ah yes, “are you okay” - probably the most loaded question a person could ever ask. 

You probably could’ve kept it together if he had asked any other question, but his “are you ok” truly pulled at your heartstrings.

You felt your chest tightening but you tried your best to help the feeling subside. You had yet to show weakness about how Jimin had affected you to anyone, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start with Jeon Jungkook. Clutching at your chest and taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm your racing heart, you continued on. 

“Is that genuine concern I’m hearing from you Jeon? Be careful, you’re losing your bad boy persona,” you said as you tried to make a joke to distract him. 

“Y/N, no. I’m serious. are. you. okay.”

You couldn’t handle it anymore. Sobs broke free from your chest and you heaved into the phone, your whimpers and whines striking Jungkook on the other side of the phone. 

“I, I can’t- I just-“

The words barely broke through your sobs. Your chest was tightening and you could barely hear Jungkook through the ringing in your ears. 

“Y/N where are you, I’m coming’” said Jungkook. You could hear the jingling of his car keys and the rustling of him putting on shoes. 

As if mother nature felt your pain, the rain started pouring down on you at the same time.

You barely got out any more words to Jungkook,  but he didn’t hang up on you. He just kept whispering comforting phrases, trying to calm you down from afar as you could hear his car engine roaring in the background (in another world, you definitely would’ve yelled at him for using his phone while driving). You barely even registered that Jungkook was there at all. Every memory of you and Jimin seemed to reopen like a fresh wound, and you couldn’t feel anything except the pain. All you could do was sit on a random curb by the edge of campus, your wails probably reaching the sorority houses nearby. 

You felt broken. The sound of the thunder overhead mixed with your cries as the rain pelted you, soaking your thin sweatshirt. You don’t know how much time passed there. In your head, it felt like time was frozen, while for Jungkook it felt like he was wasting hours zooming through campus (he truly was zooming - a month later he found out that he had accumulated 3 speeding tickets trying to find you, but he would never tell you that).

“Oh, sunshine,” he murmured, voice laced with pity and concern as he pulled over his car on the curb in front of you. 

You and Jungkook hadn’t even said a word to each other since the feud at his apartment, and you had absolutely zero clue how he even managed to figure out where you were through your jumbled phone call. But all you knew is that right now you needed him. You needed someone to give you a bit of comfort, and Jungkook was somehow here to do that for you. Despite everything between you twom you couldn’t hide the feeling of relief that ran through your body as you looked up and saw Jungkook in front of you.

Coming to your side, Jungkook crouched beside you. 

“Jungkook”, you wept as he pulled you into his chest. It was probably one of the first times you had actually addressed him by his first name, which came as a surprise to him. 

Holding you closer, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel protective over you. He couldn’t help but hurt with you as he saw your fragile figure shaking in his arms. 

“You’re gonna be okay now Y/N, okay? I’m here. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”  

And in that moment, on a dirty curbside off campus, you weren’t Jeon boy and little miss sunshine,  mortal enemies and chemistry lab partners. Instead, you were just Jeon Jungkook and Y/N., and nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

--♡--

To your surprise (and the surprise of anyone else who knows you), you and Jungkook had not been stepping on each other’s toes as much. What had started out as extreme, extreme dislike had turned into a mild dislike (maybe even a very slight enjoyment of his presence, although you weren't about to admit that anytime soon). And of course, you both refuse to acknowledge the “Jimin incident” that had occurred a week ago and you both refuse to believe that it may have had something to do with you and Jungkook not hating each other. Your emails stopped being signed off with “do your part Jeon, or else” and instead now usually started with “Hey Jeon!” and “Thanks, Y/N”

That brought you here, in your apartment on a Friday night, eating old pizza in an old sweatshirt, no bra, and some comfy shorts that had definitely been through the wash one too many times. Researching for your chemistry project, you chuckled at how much of a londer you would look to an outsider. Sending off the articles you found on Green Chemistry to Jungkook, you closed out the email with some casual pleasantries and then turned to continue rewatching episodes of your favourite kdrama. You definitely weren’t expecting a response from Jungkook until Monday. You were sure that someone like him was at a frat party (was he even in a frat? You had no idea). Either way, Jungkook probably was lounging around in some party house with like 6 girls on his arms, while you were doing quite the opposite. 

Surprisingly, Jungkook was actually doing quite a similar thing to you. Instead of watching kdramas, he was watching Iron Man (for what was probably the 50th time), and was huddled under a makeship blanket fort like a child and scrolling through reddit. Don’t be mistaken though, Jeon Jungkook was definitely a partier, but he also knew when he needed to give his head (and liver) a break.

He saw his phone chime with a gmail notification. He took a brief scroll through the articles you had sent over to him (those were definitely work for another day since there was no way he could digest academic jargon without at least 3 cups of coffee in him), but he was pleasantly surprised with what you had come up with. 

At the same time, the Facebook tab he had open on his Macbook also lit up. 

It’s Y/N L/N’s birthday today! Leave a message on her wall to celebrate!

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. 

It was your birthday and you were sending him chemistry research papers?? Jungkook chuckled because he could already think of 1000 bad jokes to make fun of you, but he also felt some other feeling that he couldn’t quite place.  

Jungkook’s mother had always taught him that it was important to celebrate birthdays, and that is was bad luck that it was  He wasn’t sure if it was just a farce that his mother had come up with to make sure that he still attended those family-wide facetime birthday celebrations once he went to college, but either way, he still believed it to some extent. 

He had no clue why he was doing this, or how he even got here, but somehow Jungkook found himself in sweatpants and a hoodie in front of your apartment door at 10pm on a Friday night, cake in tow in one hand, his other hand out ready to knock on your door. 

On the other side of the door, you were equally astonished. It almost felt like you were seeing a hallucination, as if your email to Jungkook had somehow summoned him to your door. You couldn’t help but rub your eyes in disbelief, just to make sure he was actually there. 

“Jungkook?”

Bashful Jungkook seemed to make an appearance again as he tapped his feet in anxiety. And before he could stop himself, words were already tumbling from his mouth”

“Happy birthday?” he said as a question , posing it as if he didn’t know whether facebook was just playing a prank on him (which he honestly didn’t know). “Can I come in?”

You didn’t even really know how to process this situation, but all you could mutter was a “uh, thank you?” in a similar inquirable tone and gesture for him to step into your apartment. If Jeon Jungkook showed up at your door at 10pm on a Friday night, he probably deserved to be heard out.

“You can make yourself comfortable on the couch. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company otherwise I would have cleaned up a bit.”  You were sure that Jungkook’s neat freak brain was probably frying itself into overdrive based on the empty now-empty pizza box sitting on your coffee table and stray utensils and crumbs on your kitchen counter. You felt a little embarrassed that he had to see this.

Mirroring Jungkook’s hospitality last time you were at his place, you brought him a glass of water and hoped that this evening would go a LOT better than the last time you and Jungkook were alone together in an apartment. 

Jungkook’s cake was still held in his hands. It was a little cake from the 24/7 cafe on campus; he could only find one that said “happy” with little sunflowers and smiles, so hopefully the “birthday” part of it was implied. 

“I, um, I brought cake - for you. I mean your birthday.”

You sat down across from him. 

“Oh you didn’t have to Jungkook, uh that’s really nice but you didn’t have to do that,” you said as you leaned further away from the cake, as if it was an item that scared you. “I’m not big on birthdays anyways, just usually me chilling in my apartment!” 

However, Jungkook was not planning on taking no as an answer. He tried his best to plead with you, but was still getting nowhere. 

“you… you have to do it for my mom!” he said as he thrust the cake even closer to your face. 

You tilted your head in confusion at his statement. 

“I mean uh-, my mom says that it’s bad luck if you don’t blow out candles on cake on your birthday and that if you don’t do it then you won’t live to your next birthday. And um- i know we’re not friends Y/N but I’d rather see you alive next year”.

 Jungkook tried to look as nonchalant and cool as possible, and when he realized his statement was a little too thoughtful he followed it up with a “i mean you could do whatever you want i don’t care it doesn’t matter to me”. 

You were beginning to like this side of Jungkook, the one that was more thoughtful than he was a selfish, inconsiderate dude.

Taking the cake softly from his hands, you muttered a soft “thank you”. At this point Jungkook didn’t know whether you took it from his hands to throw it on the ground or actually use it for its intended purpose. As you leaned over to grab the lighter by your candles on your coffee table, Jungkook let out a breath of relief. 

Throwing open the cake box, you lit the candle in the cake and stared patiently in front of it. 

“Well Jungkook, I believe if I am going to be blowing out candles there should be singing too, no?” You joked with a silly smile on your face. 

Knowing he had no way out of this (and to be honest, he secretly wanted to anyways), he began to sing. 

You had never heard a more beautiful rendition of happy birthday in your life. Jungkook turned the most mundane song, one that you didn’t have many happy memories with, into a tune that made your heart start to swell with joy. You wished the song was longer, because as he stopped to sing you wanted nothing more than for him to keep going. 

“Make a wish, Y/N” , he whispered. 

You didn’t know what to wish for. There were a lot of things that needed to be fixed in the world, and lots of things that you needed too (like a new toothbrush, or the experience of true love). It seemed fitting that since you were only blowing out these candles because of Jungkook, you should at least dedicate the wish to him. So all you wished for was for you and Jungkook to get along just like you were in this moment. 

You looked up at Jungkook from the cake, and from there all you could say was a sincere “thank you”.

The moment was all too sincere, and you and Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift to one that was all too intimate and friendly for your relationship. As moving away from a hot flame, you both picked up your phones and mumbled excuses to move away from the situation. 

Jungkook was the first to break the ice again. 

“I don’t know how good this cake is going to be, the expiry date was at least a week and a half ago”

“Well Jeon Jungkook, if you brought an expired cake into my apartment, it feels like a right of passage that you have to try this cake with me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from picking up a piece of cake on a fork and shoving it into his mouth. Immediately, his face scrounged up in disgust, and you could pretty much see him gag. 

“That cream is… very creamy to stay the least,” he said as he thickly swallowed it down, grimacing the whole time. 

His expression made you chuckle. There was something about the way his naturally fluffy hair seemed to move as he swayed like a piece of seaweed on your couch (a mannerism that you had picked up on quite quickly), that made you feel warm inside.

“Considering me sacrificing myself to this cake as a birthday present to you, Y/N” 

The laugh that bubbled out of your chest almost made that gross cake worth it to Jungkook. And some words of sincerity slipped out before you could hold them in. 

“Best birthday present ever, Jungkook, thank you.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Taglist: @apollukee , @mrcleanheichou , @monvieesdaebak 

If you want to be tagged, please send me an ask! 

 If you liked what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

[anne-i-write]

promise

| requested by anon: “Hello ^^ can I ask about the reader Albert Xreader . How would Albert react if he saw that his younger brother (original William) and his mother did not like Albert's girlfriend because her family helps lower class people. What would Albert do if he saw that his brother and his mother were abusing his beloved. sorry for the hopless idea 🙏” |

albert james moriarty x reader

word count: 1107

tw: lady moriarty being lady moriarty and mentions of death

a/n: wow okay um,, i swear i had a plot in mind but in order for it to somehow work, i delayed the burning of the moriarty manor. i hope this is coherent enough to understand and that hopefully this was what you wanted!!!

Noblesse oblige was something that William James Moriarty and his mother took to heart.

They didn’t care about the happiness and gratitude that their deeds brought to the working class; if it made them seem like angels in the eyes of their social circle, then they would grin and bear it. But if they had to spend more time than needed around “filth,” they would simply turn their nose up and leave.

That’s why they despised you and your family.

It was when they first saw you at a tea party, your parents looked perfect, not a hair out of place. You, however, had lightly stained clothes and messy hair. It disgusted Lady Moriarty. How could a baron have the gall to have their child look like that in public?

It was at that same tea party that you met Albert James Moriarty. He had taken an instant liking to you after he saw your untidy state. He heard the whispers about your appearance and the disappointment you brought to your parents but he couldn’t help himself from approaching you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must smell horrid.” You apologized when you saw Albert coming closer. The boy laughed as he stopped in front of you. “No need for apologies.” He smiled and you let out a soft breath. “You smell fragrant if you ask me.” He said, referring to your extremely strong citrus perfume.

Your eyes widened before shaking your head. “I knew Mother sprayed far too much perfume on me,” You muttered before Albert laughed. “You seem disheveled, are you alright?” A light smile crossed his face when you offered him a chair for him to sit down.

“I was busy helping around town, I forgot to check the time and left in a hurry.” You smiled and Albert’s eyebrows raised. “I would have looked more presentable if I managed my schedule correctly.” Albert shook his head and watched as you leaned on the table, which would have gotten him an earful from his mother if he repeated your actions.

“You’re giving me the look.” He tuned back into your voice and he saw your uninterested face. “How old are you?” He watched as your lips quirked into a small grin and you leaned back. “Quick to the questions, aren’t we?” He rolled his eyes and you chuckled.

“I’m 11.” You caught the glint of surprise in his eyes and Albert huffed, an amused look on his face. “You’re quite testy, aren’t you?” You both leaned back, sly grins both on your lips, no doubt enjoying the unidentifiable atmosphere.

“You mustn’t be much older,” You quickly replied and his green eyes narrowed. “I’m 13.”

“So you aren’t much older!” His heart skipped a beat when you laughed. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N),” You said, sticking out your hand for him to shake.

“Albert Moriarty.”

And thus, your friendship began and quickly blossomed into what can only be called childhood love.

You two had often kept in touch through letters, much to the displeasure of his mother. Not only was she disgusted by your unkempt appearance, but there was no reason to entertain a family of a lower status. You and your family spent too much time around the “filth” in the town, and she refused to have Albert tainted by your nonsense ideals.

A few years passed and Lady Moriarty decided to hold a 16th birthday party for her eldest son.

Of course, by Albert’s wishes, she reluctantly sent out an invite to your family.

“Where are your parents, dear?” She asked in a sickly sweet tone as soon as you stepped into their manor.

Thankfully, you looked much more presentable in her eyes, but the stench of the working class was stuck to your clothes. “They couldn’t make it today, so they wanted me to send their regards.” You smiled, hands folded politely in front of you. You watched as her eyes turned cold and she moved to the side, her face painted in a forced smile.

“You might want to change your clothes, darling. It could prevent you from finding a suitor if you continue to grow up that way.”

The comments never stopped since then. Since Albert was around you most of the time, they never physically attacked you.

Of course, you being you, you caught onto their implications quickly. You had to persuade Albert that he should leave it alone, but it never sat right with him.

It was on one day your parents invited them over that Albert had finally had enough.

“You don’t have to hold your thoughts in about my mother, you know?” He muttered as you both sat in the library. You looked up from your book, a somber smile on your face. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, Albert.” He hated the way you were criticised, especially when you did nothing wrong.

“My father’s simply a baron.” You sighed. “If I complained about someone of higher status than him, I wouldn’t dare think about the consequences.”

Albert huffed, putting his book down. “They think they’re so powerful just because of Father’s name. The most he is is an earl.” He stared at you intently before a thought crossed his mind.

“I know we’re young, but will you be my spouse?” A strange noise came out of your throat and you quickly shut your book. “Albert!” You sputtered, face hot.

You had harbored a small crush on the Moriarty brother, but only your wildest dreams have you ever heard him utter those words. “We’re not even--”

“My mother wouldn’t make snide remarks anymore. You’ll be treated with the respect you deserve and I’ll make sure of it.” He was so sincere you almost agreed.

“Albert, I appreciate the offer, but we’re nowhere close to the age of marriage!” You exclaimed and he smiled. “Then I shall wait for you until you’re 19.” The genuine tone in his voice made a shy smile blossom on your face.

“You promise?” Albert smiled and his heart fluttered at your breathtaking smile. “I promise.”

He really intended to keep it. He promised.

But when he saw his mother and brother attempt to frame his adopted brothers, every little comment that they made about you and everyone lower than them filled his mind with a calm fury. It was when the Moriarty manor burned down did he realize that your promise would have to wait longer. He was heartbroken that he would make you wait longer than needed, but his mother and brother dying in that estate brought a sense of relief.

That was three fewer people that would no longer harass you anymore.

moriarty the patriot general taglist: @zoehanji

[wevegottogetaway]

Thanks fo’ saving my ass tonight

I got so much going on with uni, but I couldn’t resist. If you too are queen/king of procrastinating uni work, you have my deepest support! Hope you enjoyed x

TW: none (except fool language)

Part 2    -    Part 3*

Office parties have never been y/n’s cup of tea, the idea of enjoying yourself in the very place people usually count down the hours before they can leave, is rather ludicrous in her humble opinion. Alas as the boss’ personal assistant, she not only had to plan and organize the whole shebang but her presence was also required, supervision purposes and all that. The only solace sweetening the deal for her was that she’d be in charge of the catering too, and y/n learnt very early on that good food and greater booze could make any boring work function at least tolerable.

Now that the festivities are in full swing, conversation flowing almost as heartily as the champagne in the guests’ eager mouths, y/n thinks she did quite well. The vast open space of the office is decorated with taste, the music set at the perfect level as to not overpower the boring chitchat bouncing off its walls, and to her greatest delight, the catering company she hired has truly outdone themselves. All in all, everybody seems to be having a grand time, and y/n decides that’s reason enough to officially relieve herself of her supervisor’s duties.

As she scans over the assortment of canapés, mini-quiches, crudités and other mouth-watering ambrosias, y/n fails to notice the tall figure casually approaching her. She’s in the midst of pondering whether she should try the humous or a cream cheese and salmon toast first, mouth salivating and stomach growling in appetite, when a raspy voice interrupts her inner battle, "I see m’not the only one who’s here just fo’ the food".

Her eyes pop off the delicious hors d’oeuvres to the sight gracing them next and she doesn’t know which is the most appetizing. Because standing a few feet from her is Harry, vibrant smile and pretty dimples on show, as he leans over the verrines platter to pick the best-looking one. He’s wearing an olympic blue floral suit on top of a scandalously unbuttoned transparent shirt, a bold number that would grant anyone else looks of surprise and confusion but looked absolutely divine on his broad frame. Besides, after two years working at the office, everyone had gotten used to his unconventional fashion choices by now.

Y/n quirks an eyebrow in curiosity as she dips a cucumber stick in a bowl of humous, before quipping, "not a big fan of these things?"

Harry lets out a small chuckle in a ‘no kidding’ way, and attaches his emerald eyes to hers, "they’re kind of a drag, if m’bein’ honest."

She smiles at his admission, realizing they both share an aversion for mundanities, "I know right. Like, why party here where everyone has to be on their best behavior when we could be down at the bar without the boss gallivanting around?" she cries out in exasperation and not for the first time, Harry thinks she’s quite possibly the most endearing thing he’s ever seen. His smile widens the tiniest bit at her passionate rant, "my thoughts exactly. Do we even know what we’re supposed to celebrate?" The question makes her laugh, she wouldn’t have known either if not for her involvement in the affair, "well as the person behind this all drag," she give him a pointed look at his jeering choice of word, "it would be weird if I didn’t."

Harry’s face falls at the possibility of having offended her, but his uneasiness quickly dissipates when she starts laughing at him. "M’sorry, that came out wrong," he tells her before letting out a giggle of his own and y/n revels in the moment. The idea of interacting with him beyond the usual ‘here’s the presentation for today’s conference’ or ‘do you have the quarterly report ready’ is rather intoxicating for her already feeble nerves. "Don’t worry, I take no offense, I’m just as bored as you are," she reassures him with a smile, "the party is for a new potential investor, something about wooing them with some ‘corporate fun’. S’a load of bullshit if you ask me".

Harry nods at the explanation unimpressed, his boss’ intentions being the least of his worries. Aside from being the classic douche every manager typically insists on being, the guy has always made his distaste about him pretty clear, so Harry would rather focus on more interesting things. Like how beautiful y/n looks right now, her hair tied up in a loose bun at the top of her head, leaving a few strands to fall around her face. "You look amazing, by the way," he brings himself to say, though he thinks his compliment doesn’t even do her justice.

Y/n looks down at her own outfit then: a knee-length red dress composed of a skater skirt and a backless top that only holds with a couple pressure buttons clasped behind her neck. Her cheeks warm up to match the color of her apparel, betraying the timidity she’s always fallen victim of whenever he happened to be in her vicinity. Y/n’s never been one to shy away from her feelings or trip over her own words when facing her crushes, but there is something about Harry that teleports her right back to her sheepish 13 year-old teenage self. Also, she’s not too keen on office romances and the drama that usually ensues so she’s always made sure to stifle her blossoming attraction and keep their relation work-appropriate. Surely that must account for most of her awkwardness, doesn’t it?

Her eyes trail back to his face and her response comes in a shy euphemism, "thank you, you clean up quite nicely yourself." It’s enough to quirk Harry’s lips in a bashful smile, their  complexion evidently on edge as they tread uncharted territories. Professionalism has always regimented their interactions with kind but polite rigidness, neither of them quite inclined to cross that invisible line, but tonight seems to challenge that.

Tonight, Harry is resolute in his infatuation, no longer inhibited from social construct but driven by a quest for knowledge; anything that will help him decipher her carefully shielded crux. Tonight, he endeavors to scrape the edges of her rough diamond to expose the gem encapsulated inside, peel back the stoic layers of her exterior to find her unapologetic and intrinsic nature. Tonight, he is thirsty for secrets and confidential disclosures, and he won’t leave until he’s drained it all out of her. Unless she tells him to fuck off, obviously.

Harry keeps the conversation going as he browns the buffet for a new delicacy to snack on, "so, what would you be doing if you didn’t have to be here?" He wants to know everything, the present and the past, the good and the bad, the superficial and the substance, the messy and the orderly, but he figures he should start by what she likes to do in her own time. The things that loosen her up after a tense week at work, the things that will make her eyes shine with passion as she relates them back to his curious mind.

The question reaches her ears as she takes a sip of her drink, "mmm," she smiles around her glass before placing it back on the table, "-that’s easy. Playing pool with the gang at Gibson’s." Her answer spills without hesitation, a heap of follow-up questions already brewing up in Harry’s brain, but the foreign name is what beckons his attention first, "Gibson’s?" he echoes with a faint rumple pulling the skin between his eyes. Is that the name of a friend? A boyfriend? Out of all the questions he’s contemplated, y/n’s relationship status never crossed his mind. He’s always assumed her to be a single woman, the evidence of a significant other never present in her language and demeanor.

A wave of relief washes over him at her elaboration, "it’s a bar couple blocks from my place. It’s been my friends and I’s HQ ever since we all met." The sentiment has her eyes sparkle at the remembrance of all the happy memories the place hosted, and Harry stores the information in his mental list of all y/n’s soft spots.

"Sounds rad, so you play pool?" he inquires with enthusiasm. He’s been knows to play a game or two in his youth, though it’s been a hot minute since he’s felt the weight of the cue in his hands as he sinks ball after ball in their respective pockets. He remembers the elation of it all, the adrenaline coursing through his veins at each successful strike, and his heart flutters at the thought of ever sharing a game with her; she seems like the competitive type in the most entertaining way possible. Before his thoughts can spiral into much filthier realms, like bending her over the table mid-game when his own skills prevail and she turns into a sore-loser, y/n’s voice rings him back to reality.

"Uh uh, correction," her expression suddenly turns in false seriousness before she proves him right about her competing tendencies, "I win at pool." Her eyes are so full of confidence, a spice of mischief sparkling in their corner, she would have no difficulty persuading anyone of anything that passes the threshold of her mouth. Harry certainly doesn’t doubt her mastery of the bar game, but it doesn’t stop him from challenging her in a slightly elevated pitch, "oh is that so?"

Y/n only grins at the banter, not at all fazed by his taunting remark, "maybe you’ll have to find out for yourself." She reaches for another snack, not taking her come-hither look off his handsome face, and Harry revels in her flirtatious advances, a smug smile taking possession of his lips as he surfs of the same wave of seduction. "Is that a challenge?" he philanders back, fueling the sensual back-and-forth they seem to have embarked upon.

"Not much of a challenge if I know I’ll win," y/n replies with cheek, her self-assurance once again burgeoning like sexy wildflowers sprouting from the ground underneath Harry’s feet, wrapping around his ankle and growing along his body to twine around his spellbound heart. He absolutely loves her unfaltering aplomb, finds it undoubtably sexy but he can’t let her know that just yet.

"Cocky."

"Confident."

They both chuckle at their repartee, enjoying this ping-pong of quick-witted banter they’ve never found in anybody else before. It’s like their intellects were meant to collide in galvanizing forces, the encounter of two fiery psychs too brilliant to one up the other.

Harry is mesmerized by their connection, if he knew sparks would fire this bright, he would have made a move ages ago. "Fuck, you’re something else," he shakes his head in incredulity before confessing, "definitely not what I expected."

Y/n’s chest tingles at his comment, a rivulet of liquid glee leaking through her arteries to pump her heart and her ego full of bliss, "Oh so you expected something, did you?" She punctuates her teasing with a thousand-watts power smirk, and Harry finds it strikingly alluring.

Not about to let her have the upper hand however, a burst of smugness crosses his features as he boomerangs her earlier allurement back to her, "maybe you’ll have to find out for yourself." It earns him a deep jazzy laugh rooted in her tummy and a tinge of pride swirling in his own. He wants to pry laugh after laugh from her belly until her last giggle, only relenting once the muscles in her chest are aching from unbridled joy.

Y/n sighs in content before taking a bite out of a mini-tartlet as she considers how to proceed in this much too flirty conversation. "So what would you be doing tonight, if not for this stupid party?" she returns his first question before realizing,  "-wait a sec, what are you doing here if you hate these things so much? My presence was mandatory but yours isn’t."

"I’ll have you know I was coerced into coming too," he quips back in a fake defensive tone, hand pressing to his chest, "Mike from accounting begged me to tag along, he just broke up with his girlfriend so I didn’t have the heart to tell him no." The selfishness of the gesture softens her heart in a goo of adoration, but she can’t let him know that just yet.

"Softie."

"Chivalrous."

His comeback has her giggle, a rejoinder already tiptoeing at the edge of her lips, "see, who’s cocky now?" Her eyes are full of jest and lightness, somehow taking the weight of the party off his shoulders. Turns out, food and booze are not the only remedies for boring work functions, y/n’s company is just as effective if not more, and that’s with the guarantee of a hangover-less comes next morning. Harry is truly happy he decided to make an appearance tonight, a sentiment he definitely didn’t foresee for the night. The realization has him faintly shaking his head in amazement, his lips letting out another whispered "something else" softly enough that it doesn’t quite reach her already inflated ears.

"So did you have any plans tonight?" She reiterates the question not wanting to ever stop talking with him.

There are probably a hundred exciting plans he could have conjured up to come off half as intriguing as she seems to be, but instead he decides to go the honest route, "nah, I would have probably crash on my couch, this week’s been pretty hectic." His truth is confirmed by the faded blackness tinting the skin below his eyes, a proof of hard work and long hours under the heedlessness of a greedy superior. Y/n knows it all too well, having had firsthand experience with her boss’ jackassery. That’s why she directly inquires, "boss giving you trouble?"

Part of Harry is eager to steer the conversation back to more pleasant waters but he guesses talking a little bit about work was inevitable at some point, especially since they both share palpable distaste for their superior. "The maniac keeps giving me last minute reports like I’m expected to work all night along on his bullshit projects," he explains dejectedly before running his hand through his luscious curls in sign of frustration. "Barely finished in time fo’ the party tonight, I had to slip in his office to put the file on his desk, that fucker had already left."

Y/n listens attentively, her chest tightening in empathy at the recollection of his misfortune. She’s very familiar with the embittering feeling that comes with working your ass for someone that barely registers your efforts and dishes the office hours before you can even dream of clocking off. She’s faced the same scenario time and time again, including tonight, when she’d come up to lock the boss’ office hours after he left to get pampered for the party. She barely got time to make the double commute to and from her place, much less spend hours getting dolled up. She does remember the odd file on her boss’ desk though, "oh I was wondering what that blue folder was about, he never usually leave unattended paperwork on his desk."

Harry starts nodding in confirmation before stopping dead, eyes widened in distress, "wait, did you just say blue?" he asks in urgency.

Y/n frowns at his sudden agitation, her mind reeling to try and visualize the state of the surroundings she left several hours ago. She’s pretty positive she saw a blue binder laying there, not that she knows the ramifications of that simple fact, "yes I think so, why?"

The dire nature of the situation becomes painfully obvious as Harry’s face turns into a mess of  dread and panic, "oh shit, oh fuck, no no no," the words keep tumbling from his mouth in a ramble of nerves. "So stupid, m’so fucked" he keeps muttering self-admonition in quiet anger, hands griping at the root of his hair.

Concern is starting to fester in y/n’s guts as she takes in his disheveled state, "Harry, Jesus, take a breath, tell me what’s going on," she steps closer to him, one hand softly holding at his biceps as she tries to connect their gazes.

Once his eyes plug into hers, pupils blown out in turmoil, he finally calms down enough to word  out his mishap, "s’not the right file on his desk, I only use red binders for the reports." Spinning around out of her hold to shout his stress back to the wall in a loud "fuck!", Harry’s mind is caught up in a swirl of possible excuses to give to his boss, all sounding more ridiculous than the other. He can’t think of way to fix his mistake and escape the inevitable berating coming his way comes morning.

Fortunately for him, y/n is not about to let this happen, "it’s okay, we’ll fix this," she encourages. "What’s on his desk right now?"

Harry looks back at her then, not totally convinced that this all mayhem is salvageable. His boss is never going to tolerate this minor negligence, especially once he finds out the irrelevant material mistakenly slipped amongst his work. "My 14 year-old niece’s english project" the answer comes out as a question, a hint of self-deprecating humor lacing through his words. "Bloody hell, he’s gon’ have my head fo’ that one."

Harry is adamant in his doom, but if anything, y/n is not a quitter. "No he’s not. He hasn’t seen it yet, right? You said he was already gone when you brought the file."

He takes a long breath, "I suppose not."

"Guess it’s a good thing I have the keys to his office then, yeah?" She smiles proudly as a beacon of hope shines on his conflicted face. The forest green of his eyes seems to breath back to life in an endearing revival, effectively tugging at y/n’s heart’s merciful strings.

"Fuck, you’d do that fo’ me?" his shoulders loosen up in relief, the tension slowly simmering down to a gentle buzz, as he envisages the possibility of an illicit break-in. Well, as illicit as it may be, considering they have the keys. Still, best they don’t get caught snooping in the boss’ office, for both of their sake.

"Of course, silly. No questions asked," y/n answers with a smile, and her willingness to put herself in potential trouble, warms Harry’s heart from inside out.

"Y/n, you’re an angel, a life savior," he grabs her shoulders in each of his hands, his gratitude painted all over his soft traits. "Fuck, I could kiss you right now." The words fly out of his mouth without him realizing their significance after spending the last ten minutes coming onto her. And well, y/n isn’t too opposed to the idea either, and she thinks she might hold him to that promise in retribution for her saving grace when the time and space works better in their favor. "Alright Casanova, let’s get your ass out of this mess," she grabs her purse form the table and takes his hand to guide him through the cluster of people milling around the office space, eventually reaching the row of elevators across the room.

As they stand waiting for their lift to come, Harry starts fidgeting with nervous energy, feeling like a kid who’s about to get caught trying to steal straight from the cookie jar. "Shit, alright, we have to be discrete if we want to pull this off," he tells her, not taking his eyes off the room in case someone would look at them and read their plan straight off their guilty-looking faces.

"Says the guy in the flashy suit," y/n immediately counters, in an attempt to revive the playfulness of their synergy. The night was going swimmingly before the whole ordeal, and she’s convinced this foxy little adventure can only add to the appeal of an evening full of surprises.

Harry’s indignation at her dig teeters from his pouty lips, "hey! It’s not that bad." She giggles at his poor rebuttal, and as the doors of the elevator open, they quickly take a few steps inside.

"Harry, that suit is so loud, it could break the sound barrier," y/n teases as she eyes the crowd of people frivolously chatting away, while waiting for the door to close back.

"Thought I cleaned up nicely," he cheekily throws back her words from earlier, letting them resonate within the small confines of the elevator as they make their way up to their boss’ office.

She turns to face him then, a smile spreading on her supple lips, "don’t get me wrong, you look wonderful, just nowhere near decent for a secret spy mission."

Her words have him beaming back at her in a second, his mind fixated on her compliment rather than how impractical it is that his clothes are flashier than the Queen’s; in his defense, neither are y/n’s. "Damn, just got upgraded from nice to wonderful, this night is actually turning around," he chirps as the door open to the deserted hallway of the top floor.

"Alright, more action and less flirting, Styles," y/n playfully chides him. "Go get the right file, while I open his door, we should be quick in case he decides to bring the tour and his special guest up here." She sends him off with a tilt of her chin in what she knows to be the direction of his office, and Harry complies with ease and starts backtracking a few doors down, "yes ma’am."

While he’s gone to fetch the correct document from his office, y/n rummages through her purse to find the key of her boss’ office and unlock the door. Once she’s inside, she makes her way around the imposing mahogany desk commanding the space, and finds the imposter file sitting innocently on the polished wood. For pure curiosity’s sake, she starts leafing through its contents and lets a small chuckle as she takes in the endearing work of a young aspiring writer.

Her reading is interrupted by Harry’s hurried strides when he joins her in the room. "Here’s the damn report," he flings the folder on the desk next to his niece’s, red clashing with blue, mocking him for his slight negligence. As he absorbs the sight of y/n’s face engrossed in the teenage’s fiction, he moves slowly behind her, getting a glimpse at his niece’s whimsical words over her shoulder, before his eyes settle on the bare skin of her back.

Y/n welcomes his sudden proximity, has stranding on end as she feels the soft puffs of his breaths against her neck. "Your niece is quite the writer, does she always come to you for advice?"

She ignores the shivers running down her spine, and gulps when Harry’s voice greets her ears in a deep quiet hoarse, closer than she excepted, "usually, yeah. I was the one who got her into writing, so it’s kinda become our thing, I guess."

She smiles at his softness, "that’s really sweet," and draws in a long breath in a vain attempt to calm her jitters. She can almost feel his presence on her skin though they’re technically not touching, her fingertips tingling in anticipation.  

Another frisson travels through her when he responds with a low "mhm," his nose slightly grazing behind her ear, taking in her beguiling fragrance. Jasmine and vanilla, fresh and soft, exciting and comforting at the same time; it suits her perfectly.

"Harry-" she doesn’t know what to follow the whisper of his name with. Careful? Not here? Please don’t stop? At this point, she wants nothing more than to succumb to his affections, regardless of their improper whereabouts.

Harry brushes the back of his index down the smooth skin of her back in a featherlike caress, "thanks fo’ saving my ass, tonight," he murmurs into her ear, before laying a small kiss behind it.

Y/n is exulting under his tender ministrations, her eyes closed to enhance the feeling of his touch. "Anytime," she breathes out as her head tilts backward, a hand coming behind his neck in a silent plea not to let go, and Harry smiles against her skin at her receptiveness, goosebumps of his own blossoming across his body.

His next words are out of his mouth before he can think, "mmm, I owe you a big one," his playful persona resurfacing now that the situation was handled. They snort in unison at the double-entendre, and Harry slides his free arm around her waist to bring her closer to his chest in silent remittance. Y/n doesn’t mind though, she kinda likes this boyish side of him, but she can’t let him know that just yet.

"Gross."

"Hilarious."

Their ping-pong of wisecrack is back despite the tension permeating the air. It’s the kind that speeds heartbeats and moistens palms in lustful anticipation, the kind that curtails people’s breath as their lungs fill up with voluptuous aphrodisia. "Will you let me kiss you? Show you all my gratitude? I really wanna have a taste, love," he pleads for her permission, and y/n is too consumed by desire to deny him, "have it."

In one swift move, he spins around and latches his eager lips onto her. Passion ensues, hands roaming all over each other to find the perfect hold; the back of a neck, the lapels of a suit jacket, a few strands of hair, the curve of an exposed ribcage, it’s all intoxicating but there is always more to explore. Their tongues are caught up in a heated tango of their own, swirling around each other to quench the thirst of passion, licking their lustful way around their mouths.

At one point, Y/n finds herself pressed against her boss’ desk, one leg around Harry’s waist as he attaches his hips to hers in a heated embrace that leaves them breathless upon parting. He rests his forehead against her temple as they both process the intimate exchange, not ready to burst out of this fairy bubble. "Fuck, been waiting to do that for a while," he exhales with a smile, still incredulous at the evening’s proceedings, and the girl nestled in his arms.

"Same," she agrees and gently cups his face to bring his eyes back to hers, barely believing the adoration and warmth swimming within his lovely olive irises.

Harry’s heart feels like a ticking bomb about to implode, the sweet taste of her lips already providing him with a fix he didn’t know he was addicted to. "One more," he demands against her mouth before diving into another searing kiss. This time his hands explore more meticulously, scavenging for other soft spots to add on to his mental list. The dimples in her back right above the curve of her ass seem to rival the area at her side right below the swell of her breast, but Harry is pretty sure he’ll find more sensitive spots in the near future. Hopefully.

Once again, the need for oxygen compels them to part way, but neither of them make a move to separate their tangled limbs. Y/n is reveling in the moment she’s been daydreaming about for months, "so good," she keeps whispering sweet nothing against his lips while rubbing her nose against the bridge of his.

Harry clears his throat as he regains his bearings, realizing that there are still very much in the middle of their boss’ office, a place they are not supposed to be in, doing stuff they’re not supposed to be doing. At least not here. "Let’s get outta here, yeah?" he brushes a strand of hair that fell in front of her face, "you can kick my ass at that game of pool as promised, and I’ll tend to yours once we’re back at my place, what’dya say?"

And well, how can one say no to that?

➪ Masterlist

[stygianflood]

Like the Shoreline and the Sea (Ethan x F!MC)

Summary- Ethan is asked out on a date right after Miami in Book 1. Ethan’s PoV

Genre, rating, words- Angst, teen, 2k

Open Heart fanfic tropes- birthday, office.

March Challenge Day 13 prompt Someday; April Challenge Day 9 prompt Smell of the Rain 

A/N: nor’westers-  violent thunderstorms in northern plains of India, before the onslaught of monsoon.

Title inspired by Leonard Cohen’s Hey, That’s No Way to Say Goodbye.

‘This will improve our understanding of adiposity and sarcopenia in this population, help identify thresholds predictive of metabolic risk, and ultimately prevent or ameliorate… ’

Better prevent than ameliorate.

‘...ameliorate the long-term impacts on health and…’ 

Twenty five years should be long enough.

Hers is a singsong voice, the warm, trilling kind. Mellow sun dances on the frills of her dress. The yellow one. 

The man at her side twirls her on the empty kerb. Dips and kisses her. Her laughter is all that is pure and golden.

A child follows them, embarrassed. She bends down to kiss him, and he is furious. 

The scene shifts.

The child is on the front porch, eyes set somewhere beyond the wild bergamot bushes. 

Tear tracks on pink cheeks mingle and dry with dust from his afternoon’s exploits. Something like a steely resolve troops in his eyes.

Ethan Ramsey has been staring at the same sentence for fifteen minutes now.

Whoever coined the term ‘nostalgia’ from the Homeric nostos and algos was speaking of anguish caused by an inability to return. But they failed to discern the inevitable tethering of reminiscence with habituality.

That is more or less the case with him. Louise Ramsey walked out on her husband, and eleven year old son some twenty five years ago right before his birthday. For a very long time now, home is not about apple crisps or kitchen gardens. 

About this time every year, a crevice in his mind he likes to call the amygdala dwells on the same days. 

Almost as a ritual. 

He is a scientist. A rationalist. And like every year, he reminds himself there is work to do.

Unless there’s a knock at the most unpleasant hour.

He never returns to the article. Never manages a come in. The distraction walks in, messy hair knotted with a pencil. Probably because she has lost another hair tie. 

He mustn’t be that aware. 

But she talks too much. 

‘Dr. Mukherjee.’ He sounds gruff. They’re supposed to be redrawing their boundaries, even if he is the only one making an effort. ‘I thought your shift ended-’

‘Two hours ago.’ Rigours of a sixteen hour shift mark her visage. Her smile is a little too conniving for his comfort. ‘I had work afterwards.’ 

She starts shuffling papers on his desk, permission be damned. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and manages an exasperated sigh. Since when have interns started walking into his office with… birthday cakes?

‘What do you think you’re- It’s not my-’

‘I heard rumours that Dr. Ramsey had to cancel a date.’ She sounds amused. He does not miss the split second glance she shoots his way before continuing. ‘On his birthday, too. Such a shame.’

He scoffs.

‘No one knows it’s my birthday.’

‘Oh, they do. They’re just too afraid to… ah, invoke the wrath of Dr. Ramsey.’

Of course, she is not one of them. She has absolutely no regard for the immutable drill he has observed for nearly four decades. And why must she, when her sole intent is to swivel the rusty axis of his life.

Ethan has never known the first shower of an Indian monsoon. It is sudden and torrential, just as it is feared and revered. It smells like summer, and mango blossoms. 

Ethan has never known one until this year.

‘I’m thirty seven, Rookie,’ He manages weakly. 

‘And I would’ve bought the candles accordingly if I knew that.’ 

The tealights she arranges look so much better, he thinks. The cake is a simple blue and white affair. Not the ones that have more icing than cake, he notes. Not the ones he disapproves of.

Happy Birthday, Dr. Terminator

‘I could’ve whipped something up without sugar,’ She rambles, suddenly starting to blush. ‘Or ordered one. But I only just came to know it’s your birthday. And there wasn’t a lot of-

‘Thank you, Apu.’ Tresses of warmth curl about his chest and the gravel of his voice.

Ethan has avoided birthday cakes for a decade now. Unless it’s Naveen’s birthday, he thinks with a pang.

In his time with Harper or his brief involvements in med-school, no one has ever convinced him to do birthdays. He checks himself. This is just an intern being kind.

But interns aren't kind to Dr. Ramsey, are they. 

She assures him the photos are not for social media. They settle on the couch, it’s his first birthday cake in over a decade. 

He is glad for an innocuous reason to look at her, laugh at jokes that in any other company would draw his scorn. She is oddly comforting. Unlike most interns who avoid his office at all costs, she moves about it as if she was meant to be here all along. 

He must have stalled birthdays worth twenty years only to spend it on a couch with her. 

The plates are disposable. It is nothing like the restaurants that come with his status, for there is an endearing simplicity about it. 

It almost feels like… home.

He steals occasional glances at her. It has been four agonisingly long days after their return from Miami. And for all his attempts to redraw their boundaries, it has been a non-return of sorts. 

Aparna drives him to distraction, flouts each and every one of his rules. Seeks him out in supply closets and muddled dreams. And every time he breaks her heart a little more, he finds himself floundering in his own squalor.

The German counterpart to the English ‘nostalgia’ is ‘sehnsucht’. Like ‘nostalgia’, it has the charm of what has been. But unlike it, it also has the enigma of what has never been. Miami will remain the swansong to an ideal that slipped through Ethan’s fingers. 

A surge of anguish ripples through him as he realises all of this is his for the asking, and he will have none of it. 

‘It wasn’t a date,’ He blurts out.

He wouldn’t tell her that if he wants her to move on. Not truly.

‘You don’t have to-’

‘She is Declan’s associate in Panacea. She suggested signing the contract with the Diagnostics Team over dinner tonight. So…  just business.’

Claudette Wilson is the most promising young face of Panacea, and Ethan needed less than a minute to know why. 

Sleek, dark hair styled at her nape played up her high cheekbones. The ruby of her pliant lips, almost risqué for a meeting such as this, always lingered a little longer on the rim of her coffee mug. Even the measured spoons of her laughter came with an all too enticing lilt.

Ethan has met the other type. Vacuous and synthetic. But the steely glint in her eyes came with a weighty intelligence. An unfaltering wit. And when a perfectly manicured hand brushed the contours of his cuff, he knew it was never meant to be just business. 

She was irresistible. And so was he.

That afternoon, the bitterness in his mouth had nothing to do with coffee. He learnt he would refuse Claudette even if her pay checks did not come from Panacea.

Aparna falls silent, almost as if discerning in his words everything he left unsaid.

They have run out of jokes and topics for a harmless chat. He is getting terribly comfortable with her again, he realises alarmed. And she is fidgeting with the ring on her finger.

She’s nervous too. He knows. He could define every twitch and turn of those fingers. 

Somewhere in their conversation they have edged so close that her knee juts into his thigh. The couch is surprisingly small for two people. Minutes pass, and despite himself, he does not want her to leave. 

His fingers rest on her flustered hands, it’s a deep-rooted reflex. Looking down, she weaves his hand in both of her own. Even as the adrenaline surging in his blood incites him to flee, the delirious part of him emerges stronger and more naive.

He thinks she is leaning in. Soaking up the mayhem in his eyes. The slight movement causes wisps of errant hair to slip from the messy bun. There’s new growth around her brows, a faded scar on her forehead. But it’s her eyes that still hold sway over him. 

They stroked him with a strange, silent awe on a balcony on the shores of the Atlantic.

She is nothing like interns that hover around him year after year. Sucking up for recommendations. Sometimes more. She can devour him, and just as easily cast him aside without batting an eye. 

And yet she is here. Snuggled in his office while her friends call it a night with cheap beer and rowdy escapades. 

But she is different tonight. The quiver in her eyes tentative, even wary.

His hand rises of its own accord, tucking strands of hair behind her ear. Inadvertently, it brushes her face, lingers a little longer against her cheek.

She caressed his face as the ocean crashed around him. It was like falling from the top of a precipice. Tumbling into the amorphous, a terrifying weightlessness. He waited.

‘It’s getting late.’

She smells like the hospital, muted shades of honeysuckle, and like herself. 

The cool breeze hummed a steady rhyme against the tumble of her midnight blue dress. Bits of the moon bounced off the dark curtain of her hair, plunging into her eyes. Ethan had never seen such fathomless eyes.

‘I should go.’ She leans into his palm, eyes fluttering close. 

‘You should.’ 

And then she caught him. It was the hollow of her neck. It was soft. Like the rest of her. 

Neither of them move today, silently imploring the other to charge. Or retreat. The battle drum in his chest is a dull ache. Throbbing and inconsolable.

The ridges of her collarbone bore traces of his ruin. Traces she covered every morning and stripped every night, like the rites of a godless liturgy.

His free hand is still laced in hers, the other drawing her face nearer. 

Her lips are inches from his own as he draws a languid finger across them. Her warm breath spills on his lips, warring and mingling with his own ragged ones. 

Her mouth was stained with wine. Numbing and inciting. He was battered, and bruised. Marooned at her side. And she was warm. So warm.

His hand traced the pummelling of her heart, kneading the softness of her chest. Her tongue jousted with his own as the ocean lapped at its shore. Tireless and persevering.

She was wild. Like her Gangetic nor’westers on a sultry afternoon. He was bewitched. She was doing something good to him.

Suddenly the air around them is ripped by the sound of his phone. 

It’s his father.

The two of them recoil to their own spaces, Ethan horrified that he let himself stray so far yet again. Silencing the still erring device, he faces Aparna bracing for another apology.

‘I know.’ 

Her smile is placid, all traces of vulnerability gone. He is vaguely aware of the gentle pressure on the hand still clasped in her own.

‘Happy Birthday, Ethan. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ 

She is gone before he can marshal his thoughts.

Ethan flops back into the couch, shivering and alone. The incandescent glow from the solitary lamp drenches the office in a soft, ethereal haze. She might not have been here at all but for the little things she scatters around him every time she forays into his life.

Today she leaves with him a caesura. It thwarts the cadence of a life he has been putting together since Miami.

After a minute, or perhaps a staggering nightmare, when he rises to pack the rest of the cake, he sees it. 

She must have forgotten her hair tie was in her pocket after all. 

It stares up at him from the floor, the silken, mute witness of his transgression. He gingerly picks it up, and turns it in his hand as though it houses some ancient sorcery. 

Laying it on his desk, he considers texting her. But scarcely does he scroll down to her name when he stops himself. And pockets it. 

Somewhere in the Atlantic, waves still crash upon the rocks, moistening, but never quite lingering. 

The waves are relentless. Someday, the rocks crumble into fine sand.

Thank you for reading this! Let me know if you’d want to be added or removed.

[gguksgalaxy]

Voluntary | JJK

›› AU: Friends to Lovers ›› Genre: Fluff / Angst-ish (you gotta squint) ›› Rating: PG-13 (brief mention of surgery, stress, swearing) ›› Word Count: 1.1k ›› Prompts: To feel safe + When you're sick ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles

That time when Jungkook showed up unannounced.

The doorbell rings and you groan. Your entire body hurts. Who in their right mind would dare make you get up when you’re in this state. You can barely stand let alone walk all the way to the door. The couch has just started to get comfortable. 

Nobody said they were coming over. Must be one of the guys coming in to check up on you. So you grab your phone and open the group chat. 

You: Which one of you hoes is at my door right now? [11:34am]

Jimin: Not this one [11:34am]

Tae: I’m with Joon so it’s not either of us. [11:35am]

Yoongle: Y/n? [11:35am]

You: yes? [11:35am]

Yoongle: Call the cops [11:36am]

You: What? Why? [11:36am]

Yoongle: Cuz it sure as hell isn’t me at your door, and we all know you got no other friends. [11:36am]

You roll your eyes, typing away. Who they hell could it be?

You: If I get murdered, let the record show that Yoongi isn’t getting any of my shit. [11:37am]

That’s when your phone rings. A picture of your study buddy, Jungkook, showing up on the screen. Wide, toothy grin. A dark, messy mop of black hair. Donned in an oversized shirt that might have a coffee stain on it that you put there. 

You pick up. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” he answers. “Uh, this is weird but, I thought you said you would be homebound for the rest of the week?” 

Oh fuck. You try to get up, making a pained noise as you do so. 

“Are you okay? Oh god, were you asleep? I’m so sorry if I woke you up. I can come back another time!” Jungkook rambles. 

“No, no, it’s okay. Let me just waddle to the door.” You had a minor surgery a few days ago, which is why you’re in so much pain. But it’s also why Jungkook is here most likely. He promised he’d bring by all the things you’ve missed, you just expected him to call first. 

You buzz him up. “I’m leaving the door open. You know the way.” 

Jungkook comes in and lets out a small gasp seeing you huddled on the couch with a pained expression. “I’m really sorry. I should’ve called.” 

You shake your head, patting the couch so that he’ll sit down and not just stand in the middle of the room like a fool. “It’s okay, you’re here now so you might as well stay for a bit.” 

An entire library appears from Jungkook’s bag. Pages upon pages of notes that you’d missed in just a single week that would soon be two. You try to suppress the feelings of anxiety that bubble up in your chest as you listen to him explaining what is what. You thank him by giving him careful instructions as to how make coffee in your old drip machine. 

He finds you flipping through the pages, bottom lip worried between your teeth. “You need rest,” he says, placing a hand on yours. “I can see that you’re in no place to start studying again yet.” 

“But I can’t fall this far behind, Jungkook. I don’t want to get held back a year because I needed a stupid surgery.” 

Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders, taking you by surprise. Pulling you into his side and pulling out the blue folder on the bottom. “You’re going to be okay. I made a concise summary of all the things you’ve missed in here. You can start with that. When you feel ready, you can move on to getting into the details of things.” 

You lean into his touch, grateful for his warmth. “You really didn’t have to do all of that for me.” 

“Hey, I volunteered to do it. It was a good motivation for me to stay on track now that my favourite study partner wasn’t available. It’s no big deal, really.” Jungkook rests his nose against your hair. 

It’s always been comfortable between the two of you. Honestly, you’ve always felt a way about Jungkook that you can’t quite describe. But now that he’s here for you—holding you—you can only describe it as safety. Jungkook’s embrace, his whole presence, it puts you at ease. He’s been the one to bring you down from many breakdowns over materials and exams over the past year that you’ve known him. You never thought that group projects would ever bring you anything but despair, let alone such an amazing friend. 

“Will you stay?” 

“Huh?” He pulls away to look at you, playfully cocking his head to the side. His hair falls from his eyes, revealing strong eyebrows over his beautiful eyes.

You purse your lips, nervous. “I don’t want to fall too far behind. So if you say that it’s not too much, would you just take me through what I’ve missed?” The past week has been tough and you’ve realised that you really missed being with him. Though it’s not as easy to tell him that. You doubt that you’ll ever gain the courage to ask him on a non-study date. 

“Of course,” he smiles, so widely you can feel it in your chest. 

That’s how you end up snuggled on the couch with him. Don’t ask. You’re not entirely certain either how it lead to that, but it’s the best feeling. Jungkook’s got his arm around your waist so that he can use both his hands to flip through the pages. Deep yet soft voice reading it to you, calming your nerves and letting you sink into him. You make it through the first three lectures, and then your eyes start to droop. 

Jungkook chuckles, nuzzling the top of your head and then...he kisses your temple. You frown, smacking your lips and turning into him. Pressing your forehead to his shoulder.

“Did you just kiss me, Jungoo?” You mumble, half-asleep.

He doesn’t answer at first. Silence enveloping you and making you drift back to sleep. His fingers come to rest on your arm, pulling you even closer. “Maybe I did,” he whispers. “And what about it?”

You frown even deeper. “You can’t just do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because,” you start, stretching and wincing in pain. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that you still have a wound. “Because, you don’t kiss your study buddy.” 

A soft laugh escapes his lips, fingers finding your chin and making you look up at him, eyes sleepy. “Then, maybe it’s time we find a different label.” Jungkook leans in, pausing to brush his nose against yours. Your heart stutters, but you close your eyes regardless. He closes the gap, pressing his lips to yours. Just a kiss. Nothing more. But it still leaves you out of breath. 

You take a deep breath, opening your eyes to look into his. “Maybe it is.”

© GguksGalaxy 2020

Thanks to: @knjkitten​ Requested by: @euphorora​ + Anonymous