#listen I just like to take a little peek when someone follows me

[bookwyrminspiration]

reaching that point on tumblr where you can no longer figure out why people are following you they just appear with no explanation. like hello but also what does your aesthetic poetry blog have to do with my gay elves

[fawnandferns]

thinking about hooking up with neighbour nanami…

mdni, i will block you. nsfw under the cut. ~2k words

neighbour!nanami who was just checking the mail box when he felt your presence beside him. he looked down to see you, someone new to the building as you clearly struggled with the lock. he cleared his throat, offering to help you with the tricky mechanism.

neighbour!nanami who thinks your voice is the sweetest thing he’d ever heard, your eyes catching the light in a way that made his insides twist. you gave him a smile as you thanked him, and he swore his heart stopped beating.

neighbour!nanami who can’t stop thinking about his pretty little neighbour. your mailbox was right next to his, that meant you were right across the hall. he hoped he’d see you again.

neighbour!nanami who heard a knock on his door a week later. he grumbles, opening the door with a flat expression until his gaze fell upon your sheepish smile. you explained you were out of eggs and in the middle of baking, and if he had a few to spare.

neighbour!nanami whose heart almost melts the next morning, when he steps out and almost steps on a small container. it was filled with cookies, a little sticky note reading “thanks so much for the eggs!”, signed with your name and a little smiley face.

neighbour!nanami who goes down to the laundry room to see you down there as well. he gives you a polite smile, soft spoken greetings before his eyes caught a flash of pink.

neighbour!nanami who is suddenly pointedly trying to avoid looking at the little lacy panties you had in your basket, feeling a heat creeping up his cheeks and further down as well.

neighbour!nanami who quickly excuses himself after putting in his load, rushing to his place and hoping you hadn’t caught sight of the growing tent he’d hid.

neighbour!nanami who feels so shameful as his hand wraps around his cock, images of you in those pretty lacy panties and not much else running through his mind. he can’t help but think of your bright eyes, looking up at him so sweetly.

neighbour!nanami who makes a pointed effort to avoid you after that, listening carefully so that he might not run into you as he locked the door. who couldn’t imagine facing you after he’d done something so dirty, like a horny schoolboy.

neighbour!nanami who startles when the power goes out, lighting a candle before thinking of you. he couldn’t avoid it, he’d want to make sure you were alright.

he had knocked on your door, hearing the soft patter of feet before the click of the door. he could see your eyes widen as you peeked your head out, voice curious and hair clearly damp.

“Kento? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah — yes,” he cleared his throat, struggling to decide whether to meet your gaze, “I wanted to check if you were okay. I know you live alone, and since the power went out —“

he cut himself off when he saw your smile. “Thanks, that’s sweet. I’m okay, I was just taking a shower and, poof.”

as you spoke, you pulled back the door, his breath caught. your skin was still damp, while you wore what was clearly clothes for sleep. tiny shorts and a small tank top, clearly without a bra as pert nipples poked through the white cotton.

“Ahh, that’s good. I’ll let you be then —“

“Oh, it’s alright!” you cut him off with a smile, taking a step aside to greet him in, “I have a bunch of candles, and I wouldn’t want you to be alone in a dark apartment. Please, come in.”

Nanami couldn’t think of a reason to decline, save for ‘Actually, the only thing I can focus on is your chest. My mother taught me to respect women, so I’d quite like to leave and bang my head on a wall.’

so he broke the threshold, stepping into your warm home. his eyes trailed across the open kitchen and living room, illuminated by candles and starlight pouring in through wide windows.

“Your home is lovely.” he followed your guide, sitting down on the couch as you sat beside him.

“Oh, thanks. I’ve still got a few things to do, even though it’s been a month.” you vaguely gestured to a few boxes in the corner, “I just can’t quite reach the top shelves, and I haven’t gotten the chance to buy myself a new stepstool.”

“I can do it.” Nanami stood up without thinking, reaching towards the boxes. any chance to not be so close to you, he felt so shameful each time he met your gaze.

“Oh, you don’t have to — you’re too kind, Kento.” you had stood up as well, watching him reach for a few books which he held with calloused hands.

Nanami begins to dutifully put books on the shelves, along with a few tchotchkes you had packed away. even though he was wearing a simple cotton tshirt, he felt so warm just being in your presence.

he suddenly becomes aware of the silence occupying the room, eyes falling down to your form. his brain short circuits as he realized you were looking at his stomach, where his shirt had been raising up each time he’d reach for the shelves.

he watched as your eyes looked up, meeting his before they widened almost comically. he could see the way the tips of your ears flushed as you stepped backed, voice raising in pitch.

“Uhm, do you want some water? I’m thirsty.”

You stepped away before he could respond, quickly rushing over to the small kitchen and turning on the tap. He cleared his throat, nodding faintly as he began to put away your books once more.

“Yes, thank you.”

Nanami could hear you as you walked back up to him a minute later, setting the glass beside him on the coffee table.

he thanked you, taking a sip and soaking in the awkward silence. his throat still felt so dry, coughing slightly before turning to set the glass down, turning and —

— and suddenly his face was inches away from yours.

you eyes were wide, cheeks burning red as you froze in place. your lips parted with words you couldn’t get out, chest rising and falling as your gaze fell to his lips.

and then his lips were on yours. it was sweet, his tongue gently poking at your lips to ask for permission to enter. he felt your arms wrap around his neck, pulling yourself closer as his hands steadied themselves on your waist.

you both finally pulled away, breathless and keeping each others gaze. his eyes had dilated impossibly, carefully observing your features to make sure he hadn’t upset you.

“I’m sorry —“ the timbre of his voice was huskier now, hoarse with arousal, “I should’ve asked —“

Nanami’s words were cut off as your lips met his again, sanguine skin warm against his own. he hesitated before pulling at your waist, flush against his body. your hands were moving from his neck to his shoulders. he could feel each brush of your hands against his body, a trail of wildfire.

he felt one hand begin to move past his collarbones down to brush against his tensed abdomen. your fingers began to play with the hem which he quickly took as a sign.

your lips broke apart for a moment as he tugged the shirt off, discarding it on the floor before quickly meeting your lips once more. your touch became bolder, fingers grazing over the ridges of Nanami’s hard muscle and the faint happy trail which crept beneath the band of his pants.

he let his hands fall, gripping at your thighs and pulling you both down to sit on your couch. you were suddenly straddling one of his thighs, left hand on his shoulder and right hand hooking a finger on his belt loop. you let go soon after, letting that hand drop towards the aching tent he’d been ignoring.

he resisted a shudder as your fingers ghosted over the tent in his pants. your voice was a breathless whisper.

“can i?”

Kento couldn’t imagine a world where he said no to you. he nodded, and his breath caught the moment you finally touched him fully. your hand began to palm at his cock through the slacks. he could feel precum starting to messy his briefs, but couldn’t find himself to care.

he groaned as his lidded eyes followed down your arm to watch as you squeezed him. he canted his hips up involuntarily, body shaking with pent-up arousal.

your fingers began to clumsily pull at the button below his navel. Nanami felt his lips curl at the corners as you cursed softly, pulling back to watch your handiwork before crashing your lips back against his.

His fly was down now, allowing your hand to follow his blond happy trail down to the bulge covered only by his briefs. He felt his body shiver the moment your finger hooked at the band. You pulled it down slowly, eyes drawn down to his cock.

He could only watch your expression as you did so.

Your eyes widened, pupils blown as you mumbled, “… fuck.”

Nanami rasped out a low chuckle, trying to ignore the way you kept ogling down there.

“Is that good?”

You nodded absentmindedly, hands hesitating to touch his intimidating length.

“Mmh… yeah.”

You were practically drooling, thighs clenching around his hips as you felt heat pool in your belly. His body was herculean. Finally reaching out, your finger traced down his length and watch him twitch.

Nanami exhaled quickly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he looked between your darkened gaze. He couldn’t stop himself, leaning in again as your lips pulled him in. He crashed against your lips once more, messily making out with you as your finger began to trace up and down. He could feel you smile into the kiss when he’d twitch involuntarily, making his body stutter.

Nanami Kento was, admittedly, quite inexperienced. Not that he was a virgin — he’d had a girlfriend in college, gotten many of the firsts out of the way. But it was brief, and it had been years since then. Most of what he knew now was learned exclusively through the romance novels he read, not practice.

So when your lips began to trail down to his jawline, the column of his neck, and his collarbones, his mind grew a blank. He couldn’t rely on his instincts. Hands squeezed at your waist and his breath shook.

As your lips worshipped the muscles of his torso, he kept watching. Hesitantly, he raised a hand to brush at a stray hair he’d noticed in your vision. His hand began to rest against the side of your head, thumb brushing against your soft hair.

You kept moving down, until you’d slid off the couch and were on your knees in between his legs. Your hands kept moving back and forth on the tops of his thighs, eyes looking up at him through long lashes, a silent question.

Nanami was a gentleman. He knew, he knew he wanted to service you first. That you shouldn’t be the one on your knees right now. But he was only a man, and when you looked up at him like that he couldn’t help but nod and whisper.

“Yes… please.”

You looked back down, tongue darting out to wet your lips. When you leaned forward, you gave a kitten lick to the tip of his cock. You could taste the precum on his tip, salty but addicting. While one hand stayed on your head, stroking your cheek and pulling back some hair, the other was fisting at the fabric of your couch, trying not to cum on the spot.

You smirked, watching his reactions as you kept licking at the tip, teasing him and enjoying the small noises he couldn’t control.

“Just…” he rasped out, trying to resist the urge to beg, “… please, beautiful.”

Though a part of you wanted to keep teasing, the other stronger, much more primal side of you knew you couldn’t keep it up much longer.

Nanami watch you lick a long stripe up his length, before taking the top of his cock in your mouth. Fuck, it was so warm and wet and he was going to have to focus so hard on not cumming right then and there.

You swirled your tongue as best you could around him as his girth stretched out your lips. You breathed out of your nose, eyes closing before pushing yourself down against the length.

You couldn’t even fit it all, not on your own. When you had fit about two thirds down your throat, you gagged around his cock.

Nanami grunted, the sudden tightness making his entire body warm.

Taking in a breath through your nose, you finally moved up and down, slowly finding a rhythm as you tried to focus on the sweet and small sounds Nanami couldn’t help but make. Your nails began to lightly scratch at his v-line, goosebumps following in your wake.

You couldn’t help but press your thighs together, feeling just how much this was all turning you on. It was almost an ache, burning down there to feel that sweet pressure.

It was so messy. Nanami watched as spit trailed down his cock, making it glisten in the low light as the lewd sounds echoed through the apartment. He was hanging on by a thread.

You watched with a glint in your eye as his head lolled back, pleasure coursing through his veins. Pulling back, you pressed the flat of your tongue against his frenulum before gently flicking at it.

He made a sort of strangled sound, eyes open as he looked down at you, all control slipping from his grasp.

“Fuck —“ he gritted out, as the coil snapped and cum began to spurt out the tip. You kept lapping it up, warm mouth bringin him through the orgasm as you swallowed the salty substance. His body shuddered, quickly overstimulated as you kept licking at his cock like a lollipop.

“Darling —“

He raised a shaky hand to your jawline, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. Your lips were glossy now, as you gave him a lopsided smile, cheeks flushed.

“Mmh?”

His eyes trailed down your figure, resting on your thighs as they pressed together, clearly aroused by the moment.

Ah. His turn, now. Good.

a/n: listen i was gonna add more, i was thinking about Nanami eating reader out and like fucking her against the window, but idk. perhaps another day. also this took longer than i thought.

[suntoru]

─ ✰ INVISIBLE STRING.

─ SYNOPSIS: the three times you coincidentally bump into toji fushiguro and the one time you find out it was intentional.

─ WARNINGS: 3.4k words!! not proofread, swearing, fluff, ooc toji?, mentions of a dildo, mild violence, creepy perv (not toji), BABY MEGSSS, idk i started yapping halfway through

— AUTHOR’S NOTE: GUYS I LOVE TOJI. I LOVE HIS SLUTTY WAIST. disclaimer i’m only like 6 episodes into jjk i apologize if the characterization is off!

— the first time your ever meet toji fushiguro is on a friday at 8PM. you don’t expect to be so downbad for somebody you just met, much less in a grocery store in your pajamas, but here you are. and fuck, he’s hot. he’s clad in a snug, black compression shirt that outlines his biceps so nicely and enticingly low-waisted white sweatpants that fall deliciously on his hips… compared to him, you look like a hobo in your ratty old pajamas. scratching your head in embarrassment, you instantly look away before he catches you staring— and thank god he speaks up, his voice interrupting your less-than-innocent thoughts.

“think that’s mine,” he motions casually to the black-haired cherub curled up in your arms. the little one’s eyes, swollen and red from the relentless wailing for his papa just seconds earlier now lights up immediately, adoration clear in his eyes. his tiny little arms outstretches towards toji in an adorable plea to be held. rolling his eyes, toji relents, scooping megumi up with one arm and securing him in his hold.

“cute kid.” you coo, ruffling the doe-eyed toddler’s hair affectionately.

“yeah… cute little brat,” he mutters in a low voice. “where’d you find him?” you giggle softly. “was in the toy section playing, noticed he was alone, then started to cry… be more careful next time, okay, ’gumi?” the child nods his head shyly, burying his face in his daddy’s chest. you wish that was you don’t u u horny degenerate /lh

“swear to god, he won’t listen to me when i tell him stuff. and he gets sad too easily, cries when he isn’t allowed to buy whatever he wants…” toji scoffs, pinching megumi’s cheek and a small whine escapes the toddler, effectively tugging at your heartstrings. what a cute little family.

“the mama must be real pretty; cause he certainly doesn’t take after his grumpy papa.” you lightheartedly joke, allowing the black-haired baby to toy with your fingers. “the mom’s out of the picture.” toji nonchalantly reveals, an unexpected hush falling over the conversation.

wide-eyed, you realize the awkwardness that your comment had caused. “i-i’m so sorry!! i didn’t mean to—” you stammer, feeling a pang of regret. “‘t's fine, shit happens.” he shrugs his shoulders ever so casually, dispelling the tension in the air. “it’s just me and this little gremlin here,” he adds, and despite his earlier insults towards the adorable baby, it’s crystal clear he loves him— even if he won’t readily admit it out loud. being a single dad… you can’t even imagine it. must be so hard…

you're so caught up in your feels that you don’t even notice when toji takes a peek into your grocery cart, a snicker escaping him. momentarily confused, you follow his gaze and then it hits you— oh no. what you originally came here to do, the reason you didn’t even have time to dress properly was because it was the last discount day for– looking down in horror, placed proudly, right on top of your cart, is an obnoxiously bright pink silicone dick.

the realization hits you like a ton of bricks, and a flush of embarrassment colors your cheeks as you fumble for words. “i-i… um… c-can explain!!” seemingly enjoying your flusteredness, he loses no time teasing you. "someone's clearly single." he remarks, a smug look plastered on his face. he snatches it out of your cart, dangling the object just out of reach– this bastard!! capturing megumi's attention, the innocent curiosity in his little mind interprets the funny-looking object as a potential toy, prompting him to reach out with grabby hands.

in a state of panic, you swiftly smack it out of toji’s hands, but you fail to realize there’s somebody in your way– you accidentally hit a balding, middle aged man square in the face with a dildo. a fucking dildo. letting out an audible gasp, you quickly turn away as the now angry man swivels around, searching for the perpetrator angrily. your efforts to stay inconspicuous prove futile as the 6'2 sorcerer can't contain his laughter, earning a few odd stares from shoppers passing by.

"it's not funny," you whine, feeling the heat creeping up to your face as he wipes away a tear, still clutching his stomach. he grins tauntingly, wholeheartedly amused.

"nah, that shit’s hilarious."

— “mama, mama!!” coincidence seems to strike once more, for your second encounter with toji fushiguro comes about a week later. you’re minding your own business in a neighborhood park, in the middle of texting your friend when little megumi joyfully latches himself onto your leg, gurgling happily, effectively scaring the shit out of you. safe to say, you're surprised— mommy? you'd met him once for thirty minutes and he's imprinted on you.

but you can't find it in yourself to be mad; he's practically looking at you with stars in his eyes. so you cave, crouching down to meet his height, patting his teeny tiny head gently.

"hi megs!! where's dada?" you question, and sure enough, the adorable little cherub points enthusiastically to his father, who happens to be engaged in conversation with two women. they’re giggling obnoxiously, stroking his biceps and being overly touchy, and he seems to be enjoying it. in an instant, all your former attraction seems to dissipate in an instant. an annoyed huff escapes you— of course, he's a manwhore. you should've known, he seems like just the type, but letting your kid leave your sight was just completely unacceptable.

feeling pissed, you can practically feel a vein bulge in your forehead. you’re going to knock some sense into that thick skull of his. scooping up megumi, you march up to toji, making sure to be extra cautious while holding him in your arms. what was he thinking? is it like this all the time? him getting distracted by a pair of tits and forgetting about his own son? seriously, this man needs to get his act together.

as soon as he’s in range, your free hand swiftly makes contact with the back of toji's head, letting out a loud ‘thwack’ noise on impact. he lets out a painful groan. "the fuck?" toji curses, rubbing the back of his head. unfazed, you return his sass with a stern expression.

"the hell do you think you're doing? talking to girls instead of taking care of your kid? no wonder 'gumi wanders off all the time, you didn't even notice he went missing! stop thinking with your dick all the time and start thinking with your head!!" you scold the older man as he scoffs. "me? you're one to talk, buying a rubber cock for your lonely ass. who the hell are you to judge my parenting?"

you're about to retaliate when the two girls exchange a glance, scowling in annoyance as they side-eye both you and toji. "y'know, if you were married, you could've just said so in the beginning." one of the girls pipes up as the other nods her head. "yeah, stop wasting our time loser, lets go." and before he can respond, they storm off dramatically. he rolls his eyes at them, sticking up his middle finger at their backs.

“whatever. they were bitches anyways. and you’re a real killjoy.” you flick his forehead lightly. “the fact that i, a complete random stranger, takes better care of this kid than you is quite concerning.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” he mumbles snarkily, attempting to snatch megumi away from you. he can’t believe his eyes when the chubby little baby starts to tear up, clutching onto you tighter and repeating babbles of ‘mama.’ “megumi, get down from there!” toji hisses. “listen, ya little brat, that ain’t your momma.” glaring, you attempt to hand back the stubborn ‘brat’ to his father, but to your (and his) dismay, he continues to latch onto you with an iron grip. if you didn’t know any better, with how megumi was acting, you’d think toji had never dealt with a child before. all he did was glare daggers at the both of you; the longer the interaction went on, the more irritated he got. a scolding glare towards his son, then the stranger.

“for the last time, stop clinging to that woman! she isn’t your mother.” the poor baby’s eyes glass over, about to burst into tears as you rock him in your arms, letting out a huff in annoyance. “calm your whining. you think he’s going to listen if all you do is yell?”

“fine. i’ll just… pick him up then.” toji grumbled, looking annoyed as he bent over to retrieve his son from your arms. as soon as he picked him up, megumi began wiggling and trying to get away from his father. “stop that.” toji’s face was filled with annoyance as his son’s stubby little fingers wrap around your shirt tightly. he tries his best to be gentle as he pries the baby away from you, yet the little boy began to cry and reach for you. it was clear the youngest fushiguro had developed a strong attachment to you, the stranger who helped him once before.

“‘gumi…” you coo in the softest voice you can manage, pinching his cheek softly. “listen to dada, okay? i’ll buy you ice cream if you’re good.” at the sound of a frozen treat, he instantly stops crying and settles into his papa’s arms, gurgling happily. toji looks at you in utter shock; he lost count of the amount of times he had tried so talk some sense into his little son— but just once from some random stranger, he chooses to listen. the 6’2 sorcerer sighs in defeat, sending his baby another scowl.

clearly, megumi has no sense of loyalty.

— “well, well, well… you again. i’m starting to think you’re jus’ following me now.” for the third time, you guessed it: toji fushiguro. at this point, it was becoming harder to dismiss these encounters as mere coincidences; had the universe suddenly decide to play matchmaker?

“huh?” you scoff, glancing up from your notepad. of course, he had to choose this exact coffee shop to stroll into while you were on your shift. “i work here.” he eyes you cockily, emanating more of that stupidly hot confidence that somehow makes your heart beat just a little faster than it should.

“be honest— you really just got the job cause you heard i’d be here today.” deadpanning, you roll your eyes. he can’t be serious; he’s such a manchild. “yes, because you’re such a celebrity. where’s megs?” you question, noticing the absence of the adorable baby usually accompanied by his obnoxiously sexy father.

“daycare.” he responds with a lazy drawl, his voice a low, resonant hum that sent shivers down your spine. he seemed engrossed with picking something at his nails, the nonchalant demeanor accentuating the sculpted lines of his features. "you know, it's a shame. you seem a lot less charming without a certain little one running around." you yawn, deliberately trying to piss him off.

as if challenging you, he straightens up, piercing grey eyes locked onto yours. leaning forward onto the counter, his proximity sparks something in your core— was he always this pretty? no wonder he’s popular. his lips look so damn kissable. (you wonder how they’d feel against your own.) your heartbeat picks up as you find yourself unable to keep eye contact, pupils darting elsewhere. you really hope your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel.

“…u-um. your order?” he grins cockily, pulling back at your surrender. “an espresso. and here, the extra dollar's for you.” he casually tosses you a crumpled wad of cash, and at a glance, worth just a little over one dollar and fifty cents. …you can already sense a burgeoning headache destined to plague you by the end of the day.

“…just— whatever. keep the money. it’s on the house.” you groan, escaping from the dumbass man to the back to retrieve the coffee beans. as you scour the shelves stocked with coffee supplies, you attempt to find the espresso beans.

you thoughts, however, are interrupted when your coworker suddenly pops up, prompting an involuntary shriek and effectively scaring the shit out of you. she beams brightly, enthusiasm radiating from her as she clutches onto your arm, ignoring your reaction completely.

“that customer is just my type!! tall, handsome, hot… mind switching with me, please, please, pleeeeeease??” she begs, her eyes wide with desperation and in her best attempt to coax you. you end up relenting pretty easily— after all, you owe her for the numerous overtime hours she's covered for you, but you can't ignore the unmistakable pang of jealousy tugging at your heart. what’s wrong with you? you shouldn’t care, not in the slightest. shouldn't. he's a random stranger who you just so happened to bump into three times now. toji fushiguro is a womanizer, a horrendous father, and an arrogantly cocky man. but for some reason, you find yourself growing… attached.

your eyes follow your coworker, parading out of the storage room with her lips freshly glossed and a flirty smile on her face. a pang of annoyance prickles at you; you're sure he'll absolutely eat her up.

determined to distance yourself from the sight, you trudge over to the adjacent cash register, taking over for your fellow coworker's customer. a friendly smile graces the face of the person in front of you.

"hi." he smiles brightly, greeting you in a friendly manner. "can i get an iced americano?" you nod, ringing his order up. his request is met with a nod from you, and you smoothly proceed to ring up his order. the clinking of the coffee machine acts as a backdrop to the interaction, your mind momentarily distracted by the lingering sensation of unease in your stomach. once done, you serve the ice-cold drink to the customer, who happily takes it, eyes gleaming in satisfaction before winking charmingly.

"and an extra tip for the pretty barista." he says, his tone suggestive as he hands you a bill. is he... really hitting on you? the air thickens with an uncomfortable tension, and you mutter a somewhat awkward thanks, his smile widens, and he leans in, making you feel slightly uneasy.

"isn't this the part where you give me your number?" he teases, leaving a silent pause that hangs in the air. "uhm... i'm really sorry, but... uh-" before you can finish, he boldly grabs one of your hands from across the counter, getting a little too close for comfort. "no need to say anything, cutie. our lips can do the talking." the fuck is wrong with this creep?

you attempt to snatch your hand back, but his grip is like iron. panic starts to set in as beads of sweat form on your forehead. what are you supposed to do in this situation?

just as the tension becomes nearly unbearable, a large hand intervenes, firmly gripping the weirdo's collar. a hand you so thankfully recognize intervenes just in the nick of time. toji's voice, dripping with venom, cuts through the charged atmosphere.

"why the fuck are you touching my spouse?" his snarl, coupled with an ice-cold glare, sends shivers down even your spine. a plausible lie, and extremely believeable. the smaller man stutters, his eyes searching frantically for an escape from toji's wrath. "i-i, um..." he stutters, eyes looking frantically for help. without a moment's hesitation, toji forcefully drops the intruder to the floor, his intense glare bearing down on the now-submissive figure.

"next time, i'll make sure you pay for it." he warns with a chilling undertone, his voice resonating with a quiet but unmistakable threat.

— seven days after the incident, you find solace in a quaint bookstore, its ambiance offering a quiet and peaceful haven for your studying. you're deep in thought, productivity at an all time high. however, the tranquility is soon disrupted by the unmistakable bickering of a child, no older than two, engaged in what seems like a standoff with a fully grown adult. who in the hell would argue with a kid...?

suspiciously, you stand up, leaving your laptop unattended for a split second to take a peek into the book aisle where the sound was coming from. and just as you suspected; there stands toji fushiguro. you suppress a giggle seeing him all crouched over, a pissy expression on his face.

"ya little rat, go give this to y/n. mama. mama, y'hear?" he hisses under his breath, his words an amusing blend of authority and exasperation. he attempts to give a rose to the stubborn little cherub, who violently shakes his head in refusal. holding a book almost as big as himself, he stomps his tiny foot, lifting the curious george volume even higher, adorned with a big pout that adds an extra layer of adorableness to the scene. "i'll read to you later, so just-"

"well, well, well… you again. i’m starting to think you’re just following me now."

you quip, echoing the words he tossed your way exactly a week ago. a smug grin stretches across your face, savoring the sweet taste of his embarrassment. he whirls around, momentarily losing his cool, a curse escaping his lips as he throws his head back. is that a hint of pink dusting his cheeks? you can't help but revel in delight. and as if on cue, megumi beams at you, his small frame waddling towards you with unbridled joy as you scoop him up with ease.

"mama!!" he cheers as you ruffle his hair playfully before turning your attention back to the other 6'2 baby towering over you. "looks to me like you're the obsessed stalker." you tease, a genuine grin stretching across your face. wiping a mock tear from your eye, you catch a glimpse of toji's eye roll, his attempt to feign composure failing as a trace of a pout plays on his lips.

"shuttup," he groans, rubbing the back of his head. he attempts to use this banter as a distraction, sneakily concealing the gift behind his back. but you're not one to be outplayed.

"not so fast..." you grin, skillfully snatching the crimson rose from his grasp before he can offer any protest. it's undeniably pretty, and you find yourself admiring it, a soft smile playing on your lips. you glance back at toji who, now hands tucked into his pockets, deliberately avoids eye contact. "never knew you were much of a charmer." you playfully jest, twirling the delicate flower between your fingers as a teasing smile graces your lips.

"i'm not." he shrugs, an air of nonchalance surrounding him. you set megumi down, allowing him to gleefully grab another dr. seuss picture book.

"awww, so then am i just special?" you snicker, lashes fluttering softly, the lighthearted banter echoing through the quiet aisles of the bookstore. perhaps a little too loudly, as an employee, with an air of rudeness, suggests that all three of you should be a little more discreet before you're escorted out.

apologizing profusely, you struggle to contain your laughter as the employee, irritated by the disturbance, makes a dramatic exit. unbeknownst to him, however, a janitor quietly mops the floors right behind him— resulting in an unfortunate slip and a rather audible rip as his pants succumb to the unforeseen mishap. your face turns pink, and you bite your lip, desperately trying to stifle your laughter to avoid drawing further attention and the risk of being kicked out.

you manage to slap toji's mouth shut, a preemptive measure against the impending witch cackle that could escape if left unchecked. the employee shoots both of you one last glare, clearly unimpressed, before huffing and storming off in a hasty retreat.

exchanging a knowing glance with toji, you finally peel your hand off his mouth, the quiet snickering between you two escalating into unrestrained laughter. as the atmosphere gradually settles, you can't help but notice toji's intense gaze fixed upon you, a look that goes beyond mere amusement.

it's a gaze so deep, so penetrating, that it seems to hold an enchantment of its own. in that moment, you feel like the protagonist in a love-struck tale, caught in the gaze of someone who sees more than just the surface.

toji fushiguro is a womanizer, a horrendous father, and an arrogantly cocky man. …but… you think you can manage.

and so you find your arms slinking around his waist, a huge, unwavering grin plastered on your face. "you're such a baby, y'know? if you liked me you could've just asked for my number." he grumbles under his breath, yet tugs you closer to his body warmth. rolling his eyes, he flicks your forehead, lips curving up into a smile. "you're the worst."

© KAEFFEINEE 2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Swamp God Skull! I missed him a lot. Do you have any headcanons for when he likes the mc? Sorry if you have done them before. I can't find them, tumblr's search is very bad.

Oh, Anon, I missed him too. Our boggy boy. I'm riding high on inspiration from @desktopdinosaur's art.

For those who came to the party late, the Forest God boys are ancient and scary nature deities, who are in desperate need of someone to give them little kissy-wissies

He's shy. So, so shy. If he likes you and your path regularly takes you through his swamp, he will linger out of sight and watch you, hiding where the fog shrouds him almost entirely and moving between trees so his massive misshapen body is disguised in the maze of twisting trunks.

... Unfortunately, with that hulking body, single glowing eye and thousand-yard-stare, his 'shyness' can come across as unsettling at best and absolutely terrifying at worst. If you don't know he means no harm it's hard not to think he's a monster, and you're being stalked for dinner. Especially with the way he stares, once he knows you know he's there.

You'd think a God would have a little more confidence. But it's just been so long since he engaged with anyone - and especially with anyone he likes. Last time he spoke to a human he didn't hate people still rode around in horse-drawn wagons. What if he botches it? How many more years will he have to wait until he meets someone like you? Hundreds, probably

If you'd like to show him you don't mind his presence, just talk to him. You might not be able to see him, but trust me - if you're talking aloud in his swamp, he's listening.

The first sure sign Skull likes you (aside from the trailing) is that the bog very clearly likes you just as much as he does. You'll hear birds and frogs, you'll see newts and lizards, butterflies and dragonflies. Everything will smell mossy and soft rather than dank and rotten... water flowers will bloom in and around the path you take, sometimes literally filling your footprints from the day before. The whole place will feel so alive, so welcoming. Like your presence is bringing it back to life.

It'll also never be truly dark when you're there. In the day the sun is allowed to peek through the veil of fog, and at night, ghostly blue will-o-wisps light your way home. It probably makes you the only person who can follow the wisps in his swamp and live to tell the tale.

If you keep returning to the bog regardless of him following you, he'll start drumming up the courage to 'flirt'.

... It's mostly in very strange, ancient ways - incomprehensible carvings on trees you walk past, strange trinkets appearing in your pockets, hearing unearthly humming at dusk, your home never suffering from damp/mould, cats following you around. But some of his methods are more recognisably romantic. Like the big, beautiful white water lilies he leaves for you.

He also flirts with fireflies. They're versatile! He can make them hang around you, lighting up your face and eyes, distracting you while he admires how pretty you are. He also finds that humans tend to find him less scary when he has ambling fireflies drifting around him.

He's not got much to woo you with, really. He's a Swamp God, he hasn't got jewels and castles and silks. But he has got some pretty plants. Maybe, once he's sure enough that you won't run away in terror, he'll get the confidence to give you some flowers in person.

A massive ancient fae beast, bending down to offer you a slightly squashed water hyacinth... how could you not reciprocate?

[hypnos333]

The Garden of Eden

Adam x Angel Reader

Synopsis: You were in the garden alone growing flowers until Adam came and fell in love with you first sight

Warning:Smut

Your palms wrapped into a glowing gold around the rose ready for the flower to grow and it did. Your long hair was flowed around the garden not getting up any time soon to go back to heaven.

You loved earth, the seven days god made it you watched all seven days, to see the beauty of it all.

Little did you know a naked man was peeking behind the tree, observing you, and fascinated with you. He watched as your long hair flowed through the winds and how you eyes were fixated on growing the flower.

“I know you’re back there, Show yourself human” You said without looking up, Adam continued hiding swallowing his pride to correct you. “I’m sorry that a bit rude of me, What’s your name?” You asked him making step out of the tree now standing behind you.

“Adam, What’s yours?” Adam said confidently and pridefully as hum running your hands through the rose.

“My name is ___ I’m am an Angel taking care of Eden” You replied to him with respectfulness and gentleness in your voice. Not even Lilith talk to him like that all she does is sass back at him and just gives out a full attitude but you were different. You were submissive and you always seem to listen with pretending too.

“Why do you want to work here? Or were you forced to-“Oh heavens no, this is all by choice I pleaded God to let me even step foot here” You interrupted him

He nodded standing there awkwardly before you turned to him gesturing him to sit next to you.

“Lemme show you something” You said as he sat down, you took his hands into yours then you put your hands on top of his before wrapping it around another dying flower this time it was a Sunflower.

His hands glowed a golden as it heals the flower. When it was over his face was full of disbelief and shock you didn’t pull your hands away and neither did he. “What the fuck did I just do” He said making you chuckle and his cursing.

“Well you healed a flower of course” You said stating the obvious.

“Ohhh well fuck me” He mumbles to himself making you playfully push him finally letting go of his hand, Adam was a little disappointed but ignored the feeling anyways.

He laid down on the grass making you follow suit as you both continued getting to know each other.

Days past and before you knew it Lilith and Lucifer got banished to hell, so God gave Adam a new wife but before he even gotten a new wife there was a secret that you both will forever keep.

Moans could be heard throughout both your secret spot as his dick abused your cunt in and out multiple times. You were moaning against his ear as he fucked you against a tree. “A-Ah Adam f-faster” You moaned out making his thrust faster as one of his hand moves to squeeze your breasts making Moan louder. “F-Fuck I might as well milk my cum into you and fuck you a baby angel” He whispers into your ear as you moan even louder at that. “Yes Adam fuck a baby into me” You moan out and that when he cummed deep into your pussy making it leak

Yeah but since Adam and Eve as a new wife you both can’t secretly fuck anymore, it goes against the bible and when Adam fucked Eve you haven’t talked to him when he had three children and got banished of Eden for trusting Eve and eating the apple.

You were also pregnant so you could definitely not see him anymore.

Later you gave birth to beautiful boy, Isaac a name fit for an Angel when he was two that’s when Adam died.

A baby Giggling could be heard coming out of your house, Adam was nervous to see you and maybe thought you moved on to someone else. But he had to at least try and make it seem like he’s a pussy. So he knocked it took few minutes but then when you opened the door he was shocked.

It was you as beautiful as ever but holding a baby angel who had his hair and skin complexion, but your eyes and smile. “It’s either you fucked someone who looked like me or that baby is mine” He stated bluntly making you roll your eyes.

“Lemme put him down for a nap, come in if you want” You said opening the door wider for him making him come in and close your door as you went to put Issac in his crib.

“What’s his name?” Adam asked realizing the baby was actually his.

“His name is Issac” You said simply before sitting on the couch across from him. Making Adam move to sit next to you and pull you on his lap.

“Why were you so far away from?” He whispered in your ear before kissing and sucking your neck making you moan quietly. “A-Adam the baby is in the other room” You said as he slid his hands into your dress groping your breasts.

“He’s sleeping anyways” Adam stated bluntly making you thankful that Issac is a deep sleeper. Next you knew your bouncing on Adams thick cock, cum thirsty, Your moans were loud as the skin clapping of you bouncing on his dick naked.

Adam was squeezing both your breasts as you bounce “Yes take as much as you want you dirty whore” He said before he grabbed your hips thrusting even faster. As you almost scream at the pleasure you came hard at the same time Adam came inside you again.

You laid tiredly on his shoulder as he put you to bed but then the baby started crying making him rush to Issac to see reaching out to his binkie on the counter. Adam gave him the pacifier making Issac put it in his mouth before smiling at Adam one more time before falling asleep.

That is definitely yours and his child

[bruciemilf]

Having so many de aged! Jason feelings. I might just burst.

Dick and Tim theorize on how a small, happy little baby winded up in Jason's apartment. It's no secret their brother, a wall of bulk with a tender core, houses the homeless sometimes.

Maybe the baby is someone's? But if so, why was he alone? Jason isn't exactly famous for his unquestionable wisdom, but he's too caring to leave a defenceless infant by himself.

More importantly, why is this baby rolling on his tummy on a familiar brown jacket, evidently craving to be picked up?

"Can you take him? I'm not..." Tim's not good with kids; It's a running joke among them. Even If there's nothing comical about this.

Dick nods. His pride does swell when the baby giggles and coos.

"He has good taste."

" Okay, Narcissus. Let's take him home before your head pops,'' was Tim just a tiny bit jealous this little chubby cheeked thing was snuggling close to Dick, while downright glowering at him?

Maybe. A little. But babies were glorified chunks of meat, shaped just enough like a human to be considered cute. What did they know?

So they get home. It's a pleasant rarity, but they're all in one place.

All except Bruce, of course. Too busy bleeding on the streets to spend any time with them, Dick huffs,

Poor Damian is trying to jump and leap amongst them giants, struggling to take a peek at their young guest, " Grayson! I want the baby!"

" He's not a toy, Dami," they all share a silent look, clearly thinking the same thing. He got it from Bruce,

"What does it do?"

" He's a baby, Steph. He's not even aware he exists!"

" God I wish that were me,"

Duke looks at Babybird, as Dick affectionately took to calling him, with a strange, quizzical look, " He looks familiar. You said you found him at Jay's?"

" Yeah, but I'm taking him to a firestation. I just had to show B. You know he likes volunteering at daycares. Maybe he'll recognize him."

" Recognize who?"

Babybird was chewing on his own foot when the elevator doors slid open. Cass wasn't a wordsmith.

She read movements and actions as one listens to music.

Every member of her beloved family was a song of their own; Dick was motivational and calming.

Stephanie was packed with action, brimming with electrifying energy that just made you want to jump.

Tim was clean and precise with accents of pop. Duke was light and happy and silently confident. Damian was angry, and passionate and brave.

Bruce was powerful, sad, and perfectly tragic.

But when Babybird shrieked, yelled out in happiness and excitement and tried to wiggle out of Dick's arms with a sunshine beam and grabby hands?

Her father was a love song.

"Jay," The name sounds like Bruce is choking. His eyes are burning with tears, marching directly to Dick, " Jay? Jay!"

" Wh--"

"Dada!" Babybird, -- Jason? They only now noticed the white curl bouncing on top of his head, ( their inner detectives groan) " Dadadada, pap papi pap,"

They can't do anything, frozen in place, as Bruce spends the following two hours planting a garden of kisses on Jason's cheeks, full with laughter, while they read and color and build blocks.

"Uh, Bruce? I'm...I'm gonna call Zatanna."

" In a minute."

" DAD, --"

" In a minute."

It wasn't just a minute. It was an entire week.

As ridiculous as it was? They were starting to get jealous.

[nvtstvrns]

Pretty Sounds - Matt Sturniolo

Matt x reader, smut, car sex, public

Summary: the triplets finished filming a video and Matt dropped Chris and Nick off at home to have a romantic drive with you for once because he’s been so busy, Things get heated and he ends up taking your virginity, he slowly coaxes noises out of you and pushes you to your first orgasm after telling him you couldn’t.

TW: innocence corruption, unprotected p n v (make sure you wrap it kids) smut, fingering, car sex, public?

A/N: I’m bored and I haven’t posted a fic in a minute

Divider creds @bernardsbendystraws

I was sitting at home listening to music and finishing some work on my laptop. I hum along to the music and lay on my stomach. It was almost two am and the triplets weren’t home yet. I get out my phone and ask Matt when he’s gonna be home, he said that they’re on their way home. I stand up and I put an off the shoulder shirt and some spandex. I walk downstairs and get myself a snack.

When I hear the garage door open my body gets warm and I sit backwards on the couch peeking over. Chris and Matt are the first to come inside.

“Hey pretty girl…” Matt says walking up to me and giving me a soft peck on the lips. I lay my head on the back cushion watching him put stuff away.

“Hey y/n.” Nick says when he finally walks inside holding his backpack and the camera.

“Hey Nick.” I say standing off the couch and stretching as I shuffle over to Matt hugging him from behind. His hands meet mine on his waist and I bury my head in his shoulder.

“What do you say we go for a ride?” He asks me kissing the top of my head. I nod and he stops what he’s doing and turns around picking me up off of my feet. I giggle softly and ruffle his hair.

“Can ya get a room, ya making me sick.” Chris says holding his hands to his stomach and pretending to throw up. I slap his head when I pass him. Matt puts me down.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good!” I tell him as I grab a blanket off the couch. “We’ll be back later bye Chris.”

Once I’m sitting in the passenger seat of matts car I feel calm. His car smelling just like him and the warmth of the seats. I wrap my blanket around my body and curl up in it. The rain starts soon after and I gasp. I loved the rain, absolutely loved it. There was something so nostalgic about rain.

I feel the car come to a stop in a secluded parking lot and I look at Matt. He looks nervous.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him grabbing his hand and intertwining his fingers with mine.

“Nothing…I was j-just thinking and…uh well…” he looks down at his lap and my eyes follow his movements. I gasp.

“You can’t blame that on me, that’s not my fault.” I say laughing a little bit. He was so hard you could see it through his sweatpants.

I stare into his eyes for a second. “You know I’m a virgin?” I ask him quietly not expecting a great reaction. His eyes go wide and his mouth falls open a little bit.

“A girl like you has never had sex?” He asks gently.

“It’s never came up…” I say quietly. I felt weird and nervous. We’ve been dating for about 4 months but it’s never gone farther than kissing or heavy make-outs, he’s never even seen me naked! This was insane. “I’m kinda scared to have sex…” I add gently

“Really? Why?” Matt asks looking over at me with gentle eyes.

“I’ve masturbated and it’s hard to get myself to finish and sometimes it hurts, I don’t want to be laying there as someone is on the brink of an orgasm while I’m laying there quietly crying because I can’t coax it out of me.”

“What if I talked you through it and held your hand.” He asks leaning in closer to me. I look at him and smirk. I nod my head slowly.

He leans in so we’re kissing at the center counsel his lips moving with mine perfectly. His hand snaking underneath my shirt.

“Do you want to go in the backseat?” He asks quietly when we have a break.

I nod my head and I climb back first him following me.

He pulls me onto my lap looking up at me with wide loving eyes as his hands grip my waist.

His hands go beneath my shirt causing me to shiver. The only sounds heard was the loud pitter-patter of the downpouring rain on the car and our kissing. He started pulling my shirt up over my head very cautiously and carefully. I raise my hands over my head to help him take my shirt off easier. Now I was just in my baby blue lacy bra. I feel his head go in between my breasts and he kisses and licks the valley.

His other hand finds the back of my bra and I feel it unclip my breasts falling free from the bra. He pulls the straps off my arms slowly his breathing hitches when it’s all the way off.

“God, you’re beautiful girl…” he says. I giggle softly.

“Can I suck on your nipples…please?” He asks eyeing the soft buds. I nod my head and lean a little closer to him.

“No tell me you want it, verbal consent is hot.” He says kissing my cheek.

“I want you to suck my nipples matt…please.” I say looking him straight in the eyes.

He nods and he slowly takes one nipple in his mouth the heat around the sensitive nub made me shiver not realizing how cold it really was in the car. His mouth moves skillfully and I breathe heavy every now and then, not being able to get a sound out.

“Hey…r’you okay?” He asks after releasing my nipple with a pop.

“Yeah…I’m fine, please don’t stop.” I say desperately trying to push my nipples back into his mouth.

“Make those pretty sounds f’me pretty girl…tell me how much ya like it.” He says kissing the top of my breast. I nod my head. Being vocal felt uncomfortable but I shouldn’t be uncomfortable around Matt.

“I’ll try.” I say as his mouth reattaches. My back arches as I push into his mouth more. I let out a soft whimper to test the waters and he groans.

“Lay on your back ma.” He says gently. “And put your knees up.” I do as he says and I watch as he pulls my spandex off and then my panties to go along with them. His hands spread my legs apart a little bit more.

I was so wet to the point of dripping onto his seats. I felt bad but I was too caught up in the moment.

“Eat me out Matt…please eat me out.” He smiles as I tell him what I want him to do. This was really new to me and I was scared, but I wanted to experience it, and no one could be better than Matt. His hand reaches up to mine as he intertwines our fingers and holds my hand tightly. His mouth gets closer and closer and he’s on that nub of nerves quickly, my hips buck from immense pleasure and I gasp softly.

“Pretty souuunds.” Matt reminds me. I smile gently feeling more relaxed as he talks to me.

His mouth starts going faster on my clit using his other hand to push in and out of me coaxing me slowly towards an orgasm. My legs tighten around his head gently.

“You okay?” He asks looking up at me. I tell him yes and he continues going faster and faster until finally with a cry of his name I cum all over his face and fingers. He keeps going at my spent pussy and I tighten my legs more and he spreads them apart. My hands fly to his head desperately trying to push him off.

“Matt I can’t—please stop…” I say my legs still tightening as my hands shove his head, when he heard me say please stop he stops his movements and reveals his face covered in my juices. My inner walls clench around nothing.

“Was that as bad as you thought it’d be ma?” He asks climbing back up and unbuttoning his pants.

I shake my head and grab his hand tightly pulling him down to kiss me. I feel his free hand pull down his pants and I feel his cock bounce against my stomach.

“Take it. My virginity is yours, please…” I say gently. He grins and he holds my hand tighter than ever, he warns me that it might hurt and I whimper softly. I feel his tip push in and I tense up immediately my eyes watering as he stretches me out. Tears run down my face and he wipes them gently.

“Deep breaths pretty girl, you’ve got it.” He says pushing a little deeper inside me. I grip his hand tighter and pull it against my chest letting him feel my heartbeat. Once he’s all the way in he sits there for a second and then moves slowly.

I whimper softly my hips moving against his. I arch my back and let the pleasure take over my body. His hand gone in between our bodies and he stimulates my clit as I slowly get closer and closer.

“Shit where do you want me to cum?” He asks looking around.

“Inside…please inside.” I say gripping his hand as he releases his load inside me.

When we’re done I feel a little towel in between my legs cleaning me up.

“Where’d you get the towel from?” I ask my body and mind weary.

“It was folded into your blanket.” He says.

“Oh! That’s weird.” I say giggling.

“Come on up here.” He says as he climbs back into the drivers seat. He was already fully dressed and I had my underwear on.

“I wanna stay back here.” I say laying on my side and curling my knees up. He chuckles and then he comes to the backseat and wraps me up in the blanket. I fall asleep to the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof and stay asleep the whole way home. I wake up to Matt wrapping the blanket securely around me and picking me up bridal style as I’m wrapped in a burrito. His body was warm and I felt warm. Chris and Nick were still up for some reason and they saw me being carried in.

“What’d ya do?” Chris asks. Matt shakes his head and says nothing walking into his room and closing the door laying me in his bed.

“Good night pretty girl…” he says kissing my forehead.

“Good night Matt..” I say and I fall asleep.

Thank you for reading! Have a great day!

[sweetsweetjellybean]

A quiet evening in, having drinks with your boyfriend and his roommate leads to a tempting proposal.

Part 1 of 2? WC: 1367 TW: kissing, voyeurism, alcohol

Sugar and smoke cling to your tongue as a frozen fire burns in the back of your throat. Warmth spreads inside you, sending a shiver to your skin. Lip gloss coats the rim of the tall shot glass when you place it on the scarred coffee table next to the bell-shaped bottle. Your tongue collects the remnants from your lips as you lean back, melting into the lean chest of your boyfriend behind you.

“I don’t know how you two drink that stuff,” Steve grimaces, rotating the crystal tumbler full of whiskey in his hand. His other arm is wrapped around your waist, his big hand splayed high on your thigh, toying with the edge of your skirt where you sit with one leg tucked beneath the other.

The dim light from the lamp casts a golden hue through the living room, accentuating the haze of the evening. Eddie, sprawled out on your other side, smirks as he watches you. His dark eyes glint with amusement and something else—something that has your stomach clenching.

“‘Cuz it tastes like candy,” you explain, leaning forward to run your thumb over the plump bottom lip of the chocolate-eyed boy, brushing off a gold flake only to have the wet tip of his tongue peek out and chase your finger.

Steve’s skeptical snort vibrates against your back.

“It’s not so bad,” Eddie murmurs, voice low and steady, as his unwavering gaze holds yours. Your inhale is sharper than usual, and his eyes flicker away, dropping to the floor before searching the room.

"Don't listen to him." Steve's lips are warm on your ear. "He never drank that shit before I started bringing you home." He places a kiss on your temple before trailing his lips lower, tilting your head to find the spot that has your toes curling into the carpet.

A moan so soft it’s barely above a whisper finds its way past your lips. Eddie's gaze snaps back to you. His eyes flare as he smooths his palm down his jean-covered thigh.

Heat rises from your neck to your cheeks, not entirely due to Steve or the liquor. You clear your throat with a shallow breath. “Well, I like having someone to take shots with me.” Leaning forward, you reach for the bottle, dislodging Steve’s lips as you fill the two glasses to the brim.

You nudge the other glass toward Eddie, looking up at him from under your lashes. The way his stare follows your movements has a shy smile tugging at your lips.

A huff comes from behind you. “Not that we mind you third-wheeling it, Munson, but it might be nice if you had a date every once in a while,” Steve says, downing the rest of his glass.

When you first met the roommates at a bar on campus, it was Eddie who was the shameless flirt. But after a few weeks, it hadn't amounted to anything. So when Steve asked you out, it was an easy yes. A few months later, and Eddie still hasn't brought anyone home. Steve has mentioned a time or two that he still isn't over the last girl who broke his heart.

Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes as he reaches for the glass. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on that,” he mutters, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he takes the shot.

“I’m serious man…”

A sour taste fills your mouth and you down your shot hoping the cinnamon will overpower its bitterness. 

“We were just talking about it the other day. It would be nice to see you with someone new. Instead of sitting around here shooting brooding looks at the plant.” Steve gestures at the potted fern you brought over a few weeks ago. 

“I don’t brood.” Eddie places his glass back on the table with a little more force than necessary. 

“Dude, you're like the poster child for 80’s rock ballads. Look, we just want to see you happy. Isn’t that right, angel?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, meeting his gaze, “I want you to be happy, Eddie.”

The look he gives you in return is heavier than you can hold. Your eyes lower to your hands twisting in your lap. “Isn’t there anyone you like?”

The air is trapped in your lungs while you wait for him to answer.

“No.” His reply is quiet but firm, making you swallow hard.

“Well, maybe it’s time to–” Steve makes a clicking sound with his tongue, “–Get back on the horse. Stop waiting on Miss Right and find Miss Right Now.”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s shoulders slump as his gaze drifts, “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I am. We’ve all been there before. All you need is a little confidence boost,” Steve’s hand squeezes your thigh, “Maybe you can help him out, angel?”

Eddie’s mouth drops open as he sucks in a breath. Your head whips around, eyes impossibly wide as you stare at Steve.

“What?” Steve asks his face the picture of innocence. “Oh,” he says after a moment, the light in his eyes turning on. “I meant maybe you could introduce him to one of your friends.”

Your shoulders relax, but tension still simmers in your stomach. Eddie clears his head with a shake, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat as he reaches for the bottle.

“I mean unless you two were up for it,” Steve throws out, leaning closer.

Eddie freezes his knuckles turning white as he grips the bottle. 

“Steve!!” You react the way a nice girl should but shock doesn't explain the heat pooling low in your belly or the dampness in your underwear. 

“You told me you think he's‐” 

You muffle Steve's next words by slapping your hand over his mouth, but he pries your fingers off and turns to Eddie, “She thinks you're hot.”

“I said cute,” you correct, but the clarification doesn’t stop Eddie’s lashes from lowering bashfully or the rose blooming on his cheeks.

“Same thing,” Steve grips your chin, turning your face towards him. “And anyone with eyes can see how beautiful you are. I’ll never forget how damn lucky I am to have you.”

His mouth is an irreverent caress of lips and tongue that has your heart swelling. Your thumb traces the twin freckles on his cheek, his hazel eyes lit up with warmth for you that he's never attempted to hide.

“So let me get this straight,” Eddie's gravelly voice cuts through the moment. “You, Steve Harrington, are offering for me to make out with your girlfriend?”

“You're my best friend, dude. I trust you. Besides,” His index and middle finger run along the bare skin of your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. “I've always liked to watch.”

“You've never told me that,” you can't hide the surprise in your voice.

“You never asked,” he replies with a wink. He searches your face as his fingers continue their journey, lightly tracing your collarbone, down the swell of your breast, and over the hard outline of your nipple. “There are so many things I want to do with you. We haven't even scratched the surface.”

In the span of a breath, you’re clutching at the front of his shirt, your lips crashing together in a way that’s only happened behind closed doors. One hand tangles in your hair, heavy breaths and the wet sounds of your mouths fill your ears. His other hand seems to be everywhere, leaving little fires under your skin.

Eyelids heavy, you follow his hands as he turns your jaw toward Eddie. “Look at him, angel. He wants you. Don’t you, Eddie?”

Eddie’s dark eyes are almost black, his pupils blown wide, a flush heating his skin. “Yes,” he admits, loosening his grip on the couch to run a hand through his hair. “Fuck.” He looks away, then his gaze locks with yours. “I do. I want you.”

The flames in you rise, chasing the butterflies into taking flight. Your breath catches, lips parting.

“It’s your decision,” Steve’s lips are at your ear. “You say no and it all stops. It’s over. Forgotten. Just say the word and we’ll give you anything you want.”

Eddie sits with tension pulling his shoulders tight, the muscles in his neck cording. His lip is caught between his teeth, his expression unguarded, eyes a silent plea, hoping not to regret his confession.

The solitary word crystallizes on your tongue, the sweetness of your drink turning it sticky, making it impossible to pass your lips.

The static charge freezes the air. Steve's fingers tease under the edge of your shirt, drawing circles on your hip. His question is soft but insistent. “So, angel, what’s it going to be?”

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want a second part. Torn's chapters are just so big, I wanted a break with something short and sweet.

[jji-lee]

mark had no idea what had gotten into him. he had already been walking towards the library as he typed out a quick thank you to haechan, maybe he should’ve asked where he got head, to avoid that area, but he had other priorities in mind. he didn’t even realize he was speed walking until he got into the elevator and felt how fast his heart was beating, was he that out of shape?

as he walked up to the library doors he stopped to take a deep breath, fixing his hair, not like he was gonna go up to you anyways.

“um excuse me are you going in?”

he turned to eye the shorter male recognizing him from somewhere,

“oh uh yeah my bad.”

he ducked his head opening the door for the familiar stranger. he entered after him stopping to look around the library. it was exactly how he had imagined it, nerds everywhere. but he had to try his best to fit in, again ruffling his hair a bit and evening out the string on his hoodie. all he had to do was pretend to be interested in books and look around, hopefully catching a glimpse at the check out desk. but somehow he found a way to look as unnatural as possible.

he had been in the library for a total of 5 minutes and he had already dropped 3 books and disturbed at least 6 studying students. he bowed, apologizing for making noise. after all the ruckus, he somehow found his way to the drama-tragedy section, haechan would’ve loved this and- oh there’s the check out desk, he peeked through the shelves trying to see if someone was at the register,

“mark? what are you doing here?”

he quickly got off his tippy toes, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t just trying to spy on someone, of course dropping a book along the way.

you picked the book up handing it to him. mark lee at the library, now you had really seen everything. he threw you a dirty glance once he recognized you, snatching the book from your hand,

“this is a library, i’m obviously just looking for a book y/n, this is the one actually!”

he held up and shook the book in his hand. you let out a laugh,

“romeo and juliet? really?”

he raised his eyebrows looking at the title of the book he held, clearing his throat,

“yes, actually, maybe if you read something like this you’d actually, you know, understand the depth of romance.”

you grabbed the book from him,

“from the sound of it next door you don’t even, you know, understand the depth of romance. so if you’re done being a dumbass i can check you out so we don’t have to keep talking to each other.”

he smirked at you,

“you wanna check me out? didn’t know you were so straight forward. i knew you were dirty when i found out you liked to listen to me fuck through the walls.”

you scrunched your nose at him in disgust,

“who said i liked to listen, you’re just fucking loud, the whole floor can hear you but i’m the only one with the balls to tell you to shut up.”

he smirked again, obviously about to make another stupid remark, but you beat him to it holding the book up and pointing at it.

“before you embarrass yourself more, i meant check you out as in check out the book so you can take it home.”

your free hand reached for the scanner in your back pocket, aiming the red scanning light at his face. a soft beep sound filling the air as you pressed on the button.

no fucking way mark felt his stomach tighten at your words no fucking way you were the mystery girl working here at the library. he licked his lips trying his best to keep his cool,

“uh i’d prefer to be checked out by someone with a little more respect for their customers, is there anyone else that can help me?”

he pretended to look around for another worker. you rolled your eyes at him,

“i’m the only one on shift today, so suck it up markie.”

no fucking way, he knew he’d done a lot of bad shit in his life but he still went to church on sundays sometimes and even donated to cute kitten foundations again sometimes, so how could something this bad be happening to him! there was no way that you could be his sweet juliet.

he followed you as you strolled to the check out desk, getting behind the register before scanning his book. there was no way you could be his juliet, haechan must’ve given him the directions to another library, maybe his juliet was lying about working at the library and telling a little lie just like he was, but then wouldn’t that make her a-

“hellooo? earth to mark i know i’m a pretty sight but i really don’t want to spend any more time with you, give me your ID so i can scan it.”

oh right his id, he dug into his pockets, where did he put that damn ID. you stood behind the desk hand on your hip as you waited, he dug into his jean pockets and into his hoodie pocket, nothing, of course he left his wallet in his dorm. he laughed nervously,

“uh actually on second thought, i don’t really wanna check this book out.”

you raised an eyebrow, confused at his sudden change in demeanor.

“i’m gonna uh, go now, thanks for the help or whatever.”

he quickly shuffled away, looking back at you every few steps, what was wrong with him? you heard a loud slap against the desk table making you flinch,

“romeo and juliet huh, who knew mark lee was a romantic.”

you held up your hand towards the short brunette, eyes focusing back on mark.

“renjun you need to stop sneaking up on me.”

he hummed in response also turning to watch mark awkwardly leave the library.

“you should’ve seen him at the library entrance he was fixing his hair and hyping himself up to enter.”

now you turned to look at renjun, curiosity in your eyes,

“do you think he might have a crush on someone?”

renjun laughed at your question,

“that is literally impossible-”

but then he stopped himself, turning to point at you and nod,

“maybe you’re right! that explains the sudden silence next door!”

you couldn’t believe it. could mark lee have a crush?

you looked down at the book he had left, mind abandoning all thoughts of your neighbor's mystery crush. romeo and juliet huh? wonder what my romeo is doing right now...

𖦹 .ᐣ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ cryptic crush — [13] 10/10

previous — masterlist — next

notes : we all know y/n is hawt, so what will mark now do with this information ououououououou.....

taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @dalsosapple , @nanaxwi , @neverbeurs , @miichellehciim , @h-aechanie , @hizhu , @mystverse , @wonwootakemyheart , @ppeachyttae , @jae-n0 , @onlyhyunjin , @alethea-moon , @onyourmark-99 , @sunnystarred , @p-d1ddy , @hisrkive , @flwrs4marklee , @haechskiss , @rutheaflowers , @busy-daydreaming02 , @byeonwooseokabs , @bunniin , @odxrilove , @candied-czennie , @injunnie-lemon , @sunflowerhae , @nosungluv , @222brainrot , @vklve , @aerivrs , @slayhaechan , @aek1ra , @honeynanamin , @roseangelxfuma , @starfilledgaze , @meowtella , @grassbutneo , @hyuck-me

[stellamancer]

flips and shit (katsuki bakugou + reader)

notes: more stuff inspired by things that happen in my kitchen. name me me attempting to flip scallion pancakes. it's been a while since i had one of these actually. part of the kitchen adventures series. mostly unedited.

wc: 1k

contains: gn!reader, pro-hero bkg (not actually mentioned) neighbor au.

You have never asked Bakugou to teach you anything before. 

Mostly because there’s never really been anything you’ve actually wanted to learn. Despite his griping, you think you're honestly a pretty decent cook. Sure, you may prefer taking convenient shortcuts over doing things the proper way, but it's not like it's the worst thing in the world. Still, Bakugou’s taken it upon himself to teach you in order to prevent you from committing what he considers to be kitchen atrocities. Admittedly, your knife skills have improved and you don’t hear your fire alarm going off as often (which you suspect is more due to Bakugou changing the whole thing himself in a fit when it dared to screech as he was broiling some fish during one lesson), but there are some things, like your instant miso soup, that Katsuki Bakugou can pry out of your cold dead hands. 

“Hah?” Bakugou whips his head around to face you, his expression twisted into his own special brand of confusion, eyes narrowed in an aggressive form of bewilderment. 

“Can you teach me how to flip things in a frying pan?” you repeat slowly.

His mouth twists, “Why? Usin’ a spatula not good enough for you?”

“It's not that,” you say. Bakugou shoots you an expectant look and you clear your throat as you elaborate. “It just looks cool is all.”

 “Y’got bigger things to worry about than lookin’ cool in the kitchen. Why’re y’worrying about that kinda crap anyway? Got someone to impress?” 

Grumbling, you say “Not really, but since you mention it, it would be nice if I were able to impress my smartass neighbor even just once.”

Bakugou snorts. “Maybe y’d impress me if you finally threw away those damn instant soup packets! I taught you how to make it yourself! Why do you still have them?”

You roll your eyes. What about cold dead hands does he not understand? You try to get the subject back on track. “Are you teaching me or not?”

He stares at you for a minute before shuffling past you into the kitchen proper. “Fine. Even an idiot like you should be able to do this much.” 

Feeling smug, despite his insult, you follow after him, watching as he pulls out your frying pan from a cabinet. He’s come over enough that he’s familiar with the layout of your kitchen, no longer needing to ask you where you keep this or that. It’s nice in a way, though you’re not entirely sure why. That said, you can’t help but be confused when he grabs one of your kitchen sponges and tosses it in the pan. Is he—

“Bakugou, I’ve got some frozen scall—”

“We’re using this first!” he barks at you. “No point in risking you flipping perfectly good food onto the kitchen floor!” 

You wince. It wouldn’t be that bad. You’ve tried flipping things before and the worst that’s happened is that the pancake flipped over on itself. 

Bakugou moves over to the stovetop, his arms gripping the frying pan’s handle. You stare at his arm— he’s in a black t-shirt today. The sleeves are loose, but you can see the defined shape of his arm muscles, from the near scandalous peek of his biceps down to the taut lines of his forearms. Maybe you’re staring a little too much, though, because you don’t quite catch what he says as he flicks his wrist. 

“What was that?” you ask. You could try to wing it and guess what his instructions were based on observation alone, but if you get it absolutely wrong he’ll scold you.

Though, since it’s Bakugou, he’s going to scold you either way. “Are you even listening?”

Now you are. “Yeah?” 

He eyes you suspiciously, but doesn’t mention if he noticed you oogling his arms. “So all you gotta do is just flick your wrist, but y’gotta do it like you’re shoveling dirt or some shit.” He does the motion a few times to show you, and you think you get it. It’s kind of like a flick and scoop. Watching him do it makes it seem easy, but you’ve learned that Bakugou makes a lot of things look effortless. 

He flips the sponge a few times before handing you the frying pan. The handle is still warm. Gruffly, he says, “Now you try.”

“Okay.” You try to mimic his motion, and the sponge goes up… but just falls back onto the pan without flipping over. 

“Weak,” Bakugou scoffs and you scowl at him, but he ignores you as he continues. “Try again, idiot, but put more force into it.” 

“Okay…” You do as he says and the sponge flies higher… before flopping onto the floor. Too much force.

“Not everything’s gonna weigh the same,” Bakugou says. “Y’gonna have to judge how much force to use for yourself.”

Right. You reach down and grab the sponge to put it back in the pan. It’s pretty light. You flick your wrist a couple times, not so much to flip but to get a feel of how much force you’ll need to flip it. When you think you’ve got an idea, you move your wrist and swoop your arm a little, sending the sponge up. It flips over and while it does catch the edge of the pan it still manages to land in it.

Grinning widely, you turn to Bakugou. “Look! I did it!” 

“Barely,” he says and while his mouth is curved down in a frown, there’s a sparkle in his eyes that makes it look like he’s trying to fight off a smile.. “Do it again! Make sure the flip is perfect this time!”

“Okay!” You try again and after a couple times you manage to flip the sponge perfectly. When you look at Bakugou for approval, he gives you the ghost of a smirk back, this time looking almost legitimately pleased.

But it only lasts for a moment before he switches out the sponge for a slightly heavier package of instant ramen. 

“Time for the next level, nerd,” he says, his eyes glinting dangerously. “We’re not stopping til every flip is perfect!” 

[literaila]

hey

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you're both drunk and (not) in love

warnings: alcohol mentions, angst if you're me, fluff, nonsensical conversation

a/n: i will be messing with this later but if i have to think about it for any longer i'll cry (also listen to be (acoustic) because i said so)

last part | next part

*

year four.

the house is almost silent, tonight. 

usually, at close to midnight, it's quiet. the house will buzz as the furnace works, the house settling itself into the earth, but there's none of the laughter that echoes throughout the hallways like it does during the day. no names being yelled across a threshold, much too loud for the size of the house itself. 

the kids are always in bed this late, and usually you and satoru are too--besides the nights where you stay up talking or arguing, speaking with soft voices for so long that your throat is sore by morning.

those are the nights when you fall asleep on the couch together, or you migrate to one of your rooms, speaking nothing of the broken rules in your relationship. 

satoru's bed is a lot more comfy than yours, anyway. his blankets are heavier and his pillows are fluffier. 

or that's what you usually think to yourself in the morning when you wake up there once again. it's an excuse, sure, but at least it's more reasonable than reality. 

but tonight is quiet because the kids aren't home. and it's almost midnight, and the two of you are just walking in through the door. 

and, admittedly, you're a little bit drunk. 

"don't--" you say, laughing languidly, tripping over satoru's legs as he pushes the door open. it took him five tries to unlock it, but you don't say anything, because everything looks a bit uneven. "don't forget to shut it all the way."

satoru ignores you. "why are all of the lights off?" 

you step over the tiny shoes left by your front door, almost tripping on air, and flick on the lights. you squint at the brightness, groaning.

but the lights do nothing to ease the eerieness of the hallway. 

you can't remember the last time you came home this late. the last time you had a night without the kids. 

it's probably why the two of you went a little overboard at the bar. but it's hard to keep up with shoko anyway, so it's not really your fault. 

satoru hiccups. "why don't we have night vision?" 

"humans suck," you answer, trying to kneel to take off your shoes, which are pinching at your feet. 

"true," he says, kicking his own sneakers against the wall. his jacket is already off, and on a normal night you would chastise him for not hanging it up, but at the moment you've kind of forgotten about the coat rack. 

and how to think properly. 

"did you--" you shake your head, looking at satoru, who seems to be upside down. "did you lock the door?" 

"of course i did, i'm not a heathen." 

but you see him rattle the doorknob, clumsily, and that must satisfy you because you walk out of the hallway, into the living room, which is just as dark as the rest of the house. 

it's strange that no one else is home. strange that there's no one to tuck in, no room to peek your head in before you pass out. 

"how late is it?" you ask satoru, who's following so closely behind you that you almost fall back into him when you stop. 

"dunno." 

"is there someone here? i feel like i'm in a horror movie," you turn to satoru, who's squinting around like he'll be able to see something in the dark room. "where are your glasses?" 

"dunno," he says, with a grin. and then hiccups again. 

you roll your eyes, but grab his hand as you pull him along the house, trailing to one of your rooms--you can't remember which--and forcing yourself to take off your socks before you climb into bed. 

it's a good thing that both of the kids are gone because neither of you are exactly quiet as you walk through the house. satoru is tripping every step, and you're holding onto all of the walls trying not to do the same. 

seriously, neither of you ever get out. 

and, in the blink of an eye, you're in someone's bed--hopefully yours--nuzzling yourself under the blankets. your head is swirling, and you can't see anything, but satoru is there, you think, because you can feel him. 

like a buzz on your skin as his hand trails up your arm, and he pulls you into him, probably. it's all fuzzy. and you don't care what he's doing anyway--you trust him, even drunk. 

"i'm never drinking again," you mumble as you turn, wiping something off of your face.

satoru laughs. his breath on the side of your cheek makes you blink. "you said that last time, i think." 

"i was right." 

"lightweight," he teases like he isn't slurring the word. 

he's so very close, and yet, you curl your leg around his, trying to get yourself even closer. 

satoru doesn't complain as you move, as fast a dream, and then you're lying on top of him. 

maybe it's not his bed. maybe he's the comfortable one. 

you blink hazily at his smile and press a chaste kiss on his jaw like it's an appropriate thing to do. 

you can't think of anything to say, so you just hum into his skin as you settle in. you kinda want to lick him.

"why're you so cold?" he asks you, rubbing your arms. 

you don't respond. 

being with him is like walking on top of everything else. walking on nothing at all, actually. 

his hands wrap around your waist, secure and sure, like he's never hesitated a day in his life. and you think, just for a moment, that you've never been warm like this.

that maybe you've been living in a tundra. maybe that feeling in your core has been frozen for so long, and satoru is the only thing warm enough to defrost it. 

but it takes a long time. that hurt, that fear eased in the edges of your soul cannot be cleared out with a single burst of flame. 

though satoru is not one single thing. 

but, nonetheless, his hands on you, holding you to him, are enough for now. 

his eyes--with nothing to stop them from reaching you, like a blindfold or lens--have always been far more than you wanted. 

but he's looking at you, so you can't think about any of it.

you want to tell him something, but you’re not sure what. there’s something in your mouth, ready to come out. but it stays hidden, a secret you’re keeping from even yourself.

his eyes are on yours, focused and sure, pupils blown.

you kind of want to laugh at him, because inhibitions make you giddy. and satoru has always been something that excites you. 

his face echoes with the memories of two children, two foolish kids who never understood just how good they had it. 

have it. 

"do you think i'm strong?" satoru asks you, still slurring, and he's joking. he's been quiet for a while, so you don't know where this is coming from. on a normal night, you'd probably be concerned about the question. 

but tonight you just giggle against him, tracing the slope of his eyebrow, which makes his face twitch. 

with your other hand, you pretend to feel around his arm like you'll find anything but muscle. "hmm," you pinch his bicep, giddy when he flinches from your touch. "i guess. might wanna hit the gym, though." 

you think you might die from just the way he's looking at you. 

"you're a bad liar," satoru grins at you. he's breathing heavily through his mouth like you've exhausted him. 

"so are you," you tell him. 

"says who?" he asks, and he's lying to you right now. 

"me. remember when you tried to convince me that you painted that portrait in the hallway?"  

"i did," satoru swears, but he shakes his head as he says it, looking away. 

a bit of reprieve for you, but you still tilt his chin back. you want his eyes.

"see? bad liar." 

"i get it from you." 

you grin at him, not sure what it means. 

"if you died, would you come back to haunt me?" satoru asks you, suddenly. like the question is significant, in some way. 

"if i die you'll already be a ghost," you say to him, "because you're dying first." 

"no, i'm not." 

"do you want me to die?" 

he pretends to think about it. "well, no, i guess. but if you did, would you haunt me?" 

"definitely. i'd throw things around the house for you to clean up. and mess with your conditioners." 

"so you're an evil ghost." 

"just a bit of karma for letting me die." 

"i'd avenge you," satoru argues. 

"i don't want to be avenged," you roll your eyes. "just keep me alive."

"oh, yeah. guess i could do that." 

"you guess?" 

"i mean... it's a lot of work. i'll have to look at my schedule." 

"next time i go on a mission i'm going to come back hurt just to see you freak out. maybe i'll lose a limb. or some brain damage? which is worse?" 

satoru, who squirms around a paper cut, gives you a plagued look. "i'm going to tell yaga about the threats you're making." 

"like he'd believe you." 

"i'll lock you in the basement. you'll never go on another mission again. there, i solved our problem. you never leave the house and i don't have to worry about keeping you alive." 

"we don't have a basement." 

"oh. right," he frowns. then he blinks, and the smile is back. 

"also, i keep you alive every day. you can't return the favor?” you sigh. “i'm being exploited." 

he raises a brow. 

"who do you think hides all of the sweets?" you ask him. "the kids aren't eating all of those." 

"where'd you put my pocky?" 

"you'll never know." 

"i'll torture you for information. i know where you're ticklish." 

you squirm away from his seeking hands, but don't move. you grasp one, stopping him from touching any further than your side. "i'm not scared of the man who won't even remove his hair from the drain after he showers." 

satoru makes a face. "but it's all slimy and weird." 

"it's your hair! stop making megumi do it." 

"i feed him. he can help out." 

you have to keep yourself from giggling again, like a foolish girl who’s in love with her best friend.

you roll your eyes and fall flat against him, letting go of his hand, even though it's very soft, and you relax on his chest. there's a moment where satoru settles into this--into you--and then his hands begin to roam the expanse of your back.

"if i was a ghost," satoru whispers, "i would lay on top of you in the morning so you couldn't get out of bed." 

"like a sleep paralysis demon?" 

"yup." 

"dont you already do that?" 

he licks his lips. "it'd be scarier if i was invisible." 

"can ghosts touch people? i don't think they're tactile." 

"i'm not like a normal ghost." 

"not like normal anything." 

satoru nudges his nose against your forehead in retaliation, but he doesn't argue. it's not like he can, anyway. 

"hey," you whisper, after a moment. you're looking up at him, admiring the slopes and concaves of his face at this angle. his eyes almost make his face glow, his own personal light. 

"hey." 

"do you think the kids are awake right now?" 

"no," satoru sighs. "nanami probably put them to bed at six. after feeding them straight broccoli." 

"i told him their routine..." you mumble. "i think." 

"d'ya think megumi'll haunt us?" 

"he'll never die," you tell him, "just out of spite." 

"true." 

"you can't haunt him, okay?" you say, very seriously, giving him a flat look, which he laughs at. "when you die he deserves some peace." 

"no promises." 

you poke his chest but have no answer. actually... you're not even really sure what you're talking about. or that it matters. 

there’s something in your mouth, ready to come out.

but satoru is still warm. he smells like bitter alcohol and bubblegum. 

"hey," you whisper, again, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. you’re not sure what you’re doing.

he is blurry this close, but you can still see all of him. you'd know his face if you went blind, behind a mask. you could black out--you probably will--and he'd still be there. 

"hey," he murmurs back. his voice is like a punch to the throat. but his smile is effortless.

"you're pretty," you whisper, as you think it. "and sweaty." 

satoru's looking down at you, and his smile stays the same. his breath is on your face, sugary sweet. "so are you." 

"i know." 

satoru laughs, his knuckles running across your cheekbone. it almost makes you shiver. "pretty," he whispers like it's a joke. 

"why're your eyes so blue?" 

"wavelengths, or something. didn't you pay attention in school?" 

you laugh, shaking your head at him. it's funnier than it should be. 

"don't you like my eyes?" he asks, suddenly pouting. 

"yeah. they're like a nightlight. 's never dark." 

his eyes are probably your favorite thing in the world, you don't say, 'cause you can't think. his eyes are unimaginable, and so close to you.

satoru swallows, shaking his head. "that's all i am to you?" 

"and a teddy bear. you're comfy." 

satoru hiccups, but holds you closer, smiling against your forehead. "good." 

there's a couple of minutes where the two of you bask in the silence. the quiet is a nice break from it all. and you're both so drunk that the usual fears can't seem to make their way in. 

not the way they usually doing, plaguing your body. fear is just something that is, right now. nothing to be afraid of.

but, even so, you've never felt so safe. or so sleepy.

and this time, it's satoru who whispers, "hey." 

"hey," you say, back. you smile at him. his fingers trace circles on your back. or maybe he's writing something. you can't tell. 

it feels nice, though. 

"i like you," he says. and you're not sure if he means in general, or here, in his bed with him. maybe it's a question. 

it doesn't matter. 

"i like you too. hey?" 

satoru just hums this time. you can tell that he's about to fall asleep, because his eyelashes flutter shut, and his breathing has begun to even out. 

"satoru," you say, again, because you want to see his eyes just one more time before you fall asleep on top of him. 

you have to say something. it could be the alcohol, but it might be just you.

"yeah?" 

"i think i'm in love with you," you say, and you mean it but it's not what you meant to say. but you're half-asleep, about to drool on his chest, so you can't even contemplate the words. 

is it drunk and in love? or drunk on love? 

you can't remember. 

you could probably kiss him right now. he’s close enough, and you’ve always wanted to. but, even this version of you knows that it would be a bad idea. so you don’t. and you don’t think about what you’ve just admitted.

satoru's smile is vicious, as it begins to blur. you can feel his heart beating against your fingertips. "yeah?" he whispers, and you're not sure why he sounds breathless.

you nod against him. 

"me too," he murmurs, and you can't think about what it means. he whispers something else that you don't hear.

because the two of you fall asleep just then, and the words don't really mean anything. 

just, you know, everything. 

*

in the morning, your head pounds. 

one of you left the blinds open last night, so the sun wakes you up, shining through the trees outside. your mouth is dry, and your throat burns, like you swallowed knives. 

and you're still on top of satoru, and you remember exactly how you got there. 

he's groaning when you begin to move, holding you closer. and this isn't all that unusual. 

but when he opens his eyes, there's a daze in them. some secret he's thinking about as he looks at you. 

and you both forget to mention that you remember the night before. and everything that was said. 

you probably shouldn't talk about it with a hangover, anyway. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[enkvyu]

8:12am — gojo satoru ;

your sneeze cuts off your sentence and you sigh, apologising into the phone. “sorry, i really don’t think i can carry out the mission.”

you can imagine yaga rubbing his temples on the other side of the line. “just worry about getting better. we can always have someone else fill your absence.”

“thanks, yaga. i’m really sorry for this.”

“don’t worry about it. take care.”

you end the call and sniffle, shoving your hand and phone deep into your pockets to try and conserve heat. the sniffle does little to clear your nose so you do it again, inhaling harder. by the end of it, your airways are no clearer than before.

a doorbell interrupts your suffering and you need to clamp your mouth shut to stop from groaning. dragging your feet behind you, you painfully walk over to your door. when you peer through the peephole, you’re met with a bright blue eyeball peeking through lifted black fabric.

“what the fuck.” you pull open the door. “gojo?”

your colleague stands on the other side, adorned in his typical work uniform with a white bag of something hanging off his arm. “you took so long to open the door i thought you might have died!”

“don’t sound too upset.” you roll your eyes.

gojo pauses and leans in, causing you to take a step back. his face falls into something you’ll call the equivalent to serious considering that you were talking about gojo, and he tilts his head to study you further. “is that a new makeup look? can’t say it flatters your features.”

you growl and it sounds sickly. “i’m not! i’m—” you shake your head as a migraine threatens your sanity. “doesn’t matter, what are you here for?”

“we work together! do i need a reason to come over and hang out?”

“at eight in the morning? yeah, you kind of do.”

“it almost sounds like you don’t want me here.”

“what gave it away?” you say, drily. of course, either gojo doesn’t get the nuance behind your words or he finds pleasure in testing you because he keeps bothering you with his presence.

“my feelings are hurt.” he sulks.

"i don't give a fuck about your feelings."

gojo's eyebrows shoot up. "wow, are you mad at me?"

you shake your head, sighing. “no, i'm not."

"right? after all, i haven't even done anything."

when he doesn't elaborate and the conversation dies, you ask, "was that everything?"

“why do you want me gone so fast? are you hiding something in there?”

you open your mouth to retort when a pulsing pain in your head cuts you off; the migraine was here. you groan, rubbing your temple as gojo’s voice zones in and out. “listen gojo, i am way too sick to banter with you right now. if it’s nothing important, can you talk to me another day?”

“you’re sick? how bad?”

you try to give him patience. “bad.”

gojo hums thoughtfully. “well it’s lucky for you that i’m super great at taking care of sick people.”

you stare at him. “you? really?”

“yeah! i’m incredible at it.”

you level with him a stare before slowly closing the door, intending to shut him out. his foot comes in a blur, holding it in place and you huff.

“you don’t believe me?” he says, looking the part of a wounded animal.

“if i say i do, will you leave me alone?”

gojo tuts, shaking his head. “this won’t do, we can’t have you believe in a false truth. i’m crazy good at taking care of people, i’ll prove it to you now!”

“no, that’s okay gojo, i don’t need your help— and you’re already inside. great.” the door closes behind you with a soft click as you stumble to your living room. “just stay out of the way, okay? and for god’s sake, keep quiet.”

"it'll be like i'm not even here. i promise."

"i don't believe in your promises." you grumble, stomping over to the bathroom. you notice, notice very clearly in fact, that the tall white-haired man follows after you. you stop at the entrance, looking back at him. "are you seriously following me to the bathroom?”

"i was going to stand guard outside!"

"i don't need you to. all i need is for you to leave." you hiss, entering the bathroom and slamming the door in his face. when you come out, he's still standing there, guarding.

you scrunch your nose up at him but leave anyway. he wasn't worth it, you remind yourself.

you make it to your next destination safely, thanks to your new and improved guard dog. checking out the fridge in your kitchen, you realise there was nothing to pop in the microwave and eat whilst wallowing in self-pity.

you do the next best thing and place a pot over your gas stove. bending over, you turn the small knob and watch as the blue flame arises. you let go of the knob, and the flame dies.

this was not something you needed right now but the emptiness of your stomach is all too prominent. so you try again, bending over and rotating the knob over the small fire symbol and watching as the stove flares up. carefully, you release the knob. the flame dies again.

“you okay?”

you grit your teeth into a smile. “yes, gojo. i think i might be better if you could stop looking over my shoulder.”

“the stove does not like you.” he ignores, side stepping to try himself. and because he’s so irritatingly perfect in every way, the blue flame rises and stays when he lets go.

gojo turns to you with a bright smile.

you sniffle and nod. “thank you.”

“what are you making?”

rummaging through your pantry, you remove a packet of instant noodles. the bright red icon on the packaging causes gojo to raise his eyebrow.

“super spicy?”

“i can’t feel anything in my nose right now. i’m thinking of flushing it out with something else.” you go to fill the pot with water but he stops you. “what?”

“you’re sick, you shouldn’t be eating something like that.”

“do you have a better idea?” you ask. “this is all i have in the house right now.”

gojo grins. he lets the white bag he was still holding onto slip down from his arm to his hand and he opens the two handles with enthusiasm. because it was so contagious, you can’t help but feel excited, peering into the bag.

you blanch. “is that medicine, creamed corn and one single egg?”

“yes!”

“that isn’t a meal either, gojo.” you think again, flickering your gaze up to his eyes. “but that’s sweet, thank you. i’ll take the pills after.”

you start to move around but he stops you with his arm. “didn’t i say i was here to take care of you? i’ve got this, just go over and relax on the couch.”

“the last thing i’ll be doing is relaxing if you’re in the kitchen.” your migraine disagrees so you eventually nod, shuffling away. casting one last glance, you point at him. “don’t start a fire.”

he gives you a cheerful wave and you stumble to your couch. you fall into its cushions and exhale, deeply.

time passes in a blur as your illness takes a hold of you, digging its finger into your brain and shaking it, displacing your cerebral spinal fluid. with your face deep within a pillow, you almost miss the scent of smoke.

almost.

you spring yourself up on your arms and dart back into the kitchen, almost running into a wall. coughing, you fan away a puff of smoke as you enter, finding the culprit wishing a tune and stirring something in a pot.

"gojo?" you choke.

gojo spins around and you find that he'd somehow pulled out the "kiss the chef" pink apron shoko gifted you on your birthday which you had immediately hid. it fits him terribly, straining to cover his torso. "you're up! why are you up?"

you cough again, stepping closer. "can't you see past that blindfold? you're starting a fire! i'm surpised my smoke alarm hasn't gone off!"

you reach over and turn the exhaust fan on, something he hadn't even done, and squint through the fog to look at what he was making.

"what is that?"

"it's soup! i heard soup is good for you when you're sick."

you look between the lump of black coal in the pot and gojo's smiling face. "soup has water in it."

"i know, i added that! it just all disappeared." gojo stirs the pot, and you're no longer sure what exactly, he was stirring. "i even added the pills you wanted to take so it'll be easier."

you wordlessly reach down and turn off the gas stove.

he lets you. "thanks, i was just about to plate this."

gojo begins manoeuvring your kitchen with a familiarity you weren't sure how he obtained. he opens the overhead pantry and takes out a bowl, pulls out the utensils from its respective drawer, and uses your favourite spatula to transfer the black lump of something.

he places the bowl in front of you. "here you go."

you stare at it for so long, you start seeing black. eventually, you begin registering the item. "wait a minute, is this a cursed object? did you infuse your cursed energy into this?"

gojo has that stupid grin on his face, the one that he uses when he knows he's in the right. "it is! this should make you better in no time. i used to give this to megumi all the time when he was sick."

"but it looks so..."

gojo digs through his pockets, pulling something out and hiding it in his fist. he holds it out to you. "if you're good and eat it, i'll give you this."

"what is it?"

"it's a secret." gojo says. "c'mon, be a good girl and take your medicine."

you huff, pulling your gaze away from his hand and towards the black lump. it looks edible, maybe if you squint at it, and it didn't seem all too big. you could probably get it down in two big bites. so with the determination of a seasoned warrior, you square your shoulders and break off a chunk, throwing it into your mouth.

your face immediately scrunches up as the taste hits you.

gojo coos at you from the side. "you're almost done."

you glare at him through tears, gulping the substance down when you're able to, and stuff the remaining bit into your mouth.

when it's travelling down your oesophagus, you thrust the bowl back into gojo's hands. "you better give me that thing in your hand."

gojo places his fist in your hands and opens it. a single candy stares up at you. "it's strawberry flavour, your favourite."

you murmur curses at him under your breath, something about him treating you like a child, but take the candy anyway. when you pop it in your mouth, the sweetness is almost enough to make you forget the taste of the cursed object. gojo's sweet smile fills in those absences as he gestures you to follow him.

perhaps the cursed object gets to you, or gojo’s presence has wormed its way into being comforting because you find yourself following.

"where are we going?" you ask as he leads you around your own home.

"to bed. the medicine will only work if your parasympathetic nervous system is working and considering who you are, you'll never know true relaxation if you're awake."

"hey." you sniffle indignantly. "i know how to have fun and experience leisure."

he hums but doesn't answer, leading you into your room. thinking that a nap would indeed do you good, you start to pull off the shirt you were wearing and wriggle out of your pants. perhaps the sickness had done more to you than you realised, because you forget gojo's presence, whipping your head to find him still standing at your door, his back to you.

"i didn't see anything." he says, immediately.

you grumble, throwing yourself into your bed and sliding under the covers. only then does gojo turn to you.

"you're really docile when you're sick."

"i'll put my foot in your mouth."

gojo laughs, turning around to head out when you call his name.

"are you leaving?"

he smiles, peering over his shoulder. "miss me already? i'll be back, i promise."

"i don't believe in your promises." you say again, but let him go, sleep taking over you. you slip in and out of consciousness as the fever reaches its peak, time slipping away from your knowledge.

every now and then, you hear footsteps, and the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. one time, you open your eyes and find gojo standing over you, a towel in his hands. "good morning."

you mumble out something that even you couldn't understand, and slip into another fever-induced sleep.

the next time you open your eyes, you're relatively more lucid. you sit up slightly and something wet falls off your forehead. you catch the towel in your hands.

gojo looks up from his spot in your chair, placed beside your bed. "you're up again. here, hand me that."

you wordlessly pass it over to him and he replenishes it in the basin he'd placed on your bedside table. you say without thinking, "maybe you really are good at taking care of sick people."

gojo grins, lightly pushing you to lay down again. "i told you so. you're alot less of a handful than megumi was."

the warmth of the towel soothes you and you close your eyes against the sensation. you hear gojo flicking through a book in his hands, and the sound of paper against fingers lolls you into another comfortable slumber. a nagging thought tickles the back of your mind and with effort, you peer up at him.

when you mumble something incoherent, gojo looks over at you. “what?”

“i said.” you lick your lips and try again. “what did you come here for? you never told me.”

he gives you a slight smile and reaches over, adjusting the towel. “you said you were sick. i wanted to check up on you.”

“but—”

“you can’t fall asleep if you keep talking.” he reprimands. “shall i sing you a lullaby so you can sleep quicker? megumi never lets me.”

even before you can reply, he starts beatboxing and you realised in your sick state that it was the intro to twinkle twinkle little star.

regardless, having gotten an answer, you close your eyes again and let the sleep drag you under. vaguely, you realise gojo must have arrived at your apartment immediately after you had informed yaga that you were sick, stopping only to grab the ingredients to his cursed object cure. you'd have to thank him when you wake up, if you remember.

with a soft exhale, you slip away, gojo's rendition of twinkle twinkle little star your escort.

guess who is sick. guess who is sick studying anatomy. guess who is sick studying anatomy and with a gas stove that is out to get her. the answer may shock you!

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Alibi

The morning had gone seemingly well, having the day off, you were able to take care of a lot of errands you had been putting off such as pulling all of the weeds from your backyard that managed to weasel their way back in even after drenching them in weed killer.

You were so engrossed with picking them and listening to one of your favorite podcasts, you almost missed hearing the doorbell ringing. Taking the gloves off, you paused your podcast and went inside to answer the door, slightly surprised to see two very professional people standing outside.

"Good evening ma'am. I'm Special Agent DiNozzo with NCIS and this is Agent McGee, mind if we ask you a few questions regarding Karen Moss?"

You shifted your weight nervously, stomach turning at the sound of your friends name.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?"

They shared a solemn look between the two of each other, telling you everything you needed to know.

"Her body was found this morning a few streets away and based on her call history, you were the last person to speak with her before her death. May we ask where you were last night around 11pm?"

You covered your mouth in shock, not believing that they just told you that your close friend died, let alone was possibly murdered and know were questioning you as if you might be a suspect. You thought back about the time they were referring to and memories of Jethro and you tangled together in your bed sheets popped into your mind. You thought about telling them, not sure if they even worked with Jethro, but decided on giving them the simplified version instead.

"I was here. With my boyfriend.."

"Is he here now to verify your whereabouts?" DiNozzo asked, taking a small peek over you as if he'd catch a glimpse of someone fleeing. Were all NCIS so suspicious?

"No, but I can give you his number. His name is Leroy Gibbs. His number is-

"Wait, sorry. Leroy Gibbs?" Agent DiNozzo interrupted, facial expression disbelieving. "Grey hair, high and tight haircut, broody mysterious Leroy Gibbs?"

You chuckled a little at his choice of words to describe your boyfriend, seeing how well he made an impression on people.

"Well not usually broody around me but yes, I guess you could say that. Why? Do the two of you know him?"

Once again, the two agents shared a look, this time one of confusion and awe.

"Uh, could you just hang on one second," DiNozzo asked. "I'll be right back."

You stood there with Agent McGee who looked like he wanted say something, but didn't as Agent DiNozzo walked a few paces, pulling out his phone and dialing a number.

"So was Kathy murdered? You said her body was found. When I talked with her last night, she said she was on her way to meet up with someone for a blind date," you asked McGee who was focused on the phone call Agent DiNozzo was having.

"Well Abby was able to go through the Lieutenant's phone and her number was the last dialed. We were just following- Uh yes- Well I wasn't sure- Of course boss, I'll tell McGee."

Agent DiNozzo came back over before murmuring to Agent McGee.

"Gibbs wants us to bring her in for protection. I told him you'd explain to him why we questioned his girlfriend without letting him know."

"What do mean, me? You're the one that had Abby look up the phone records."

"Just take one for the team McProbie. He's still mad at me for the whole coffee incident. Plus, you owe me."

You watched the two supposed Federal Agents argue like siblings, neither one of them wanting to be in the line of Jethro's mood and honestly it was kind of funny. Jethro never really talked much about his team but you had only been seeing him for a few months and 9 times out of 10, the two of you weren't doing much talking when you saw each other.

You decided to break up the little tiff the two of them were having in order to save some time.

"Alright, well while the two of you sort all that out, I'm going to change and lock up the house before we leave."

"Sounds good," Agent DiNozzo responded before going back to bickering with his partner.

- - - -

You took another sip from the little paper cup of water Agent David had given you as you waited in the conference room. She wanted to know about you and Jethro but you didn't divulge much information, knowing Jethro liked his personal life kept close and unknown for the most part. It wasn't long before the door opened and your boyfriend walked in along with Agent DiNozzo and David. You decided against giving Jethro a hug or kiss in front of his subordinates, although the both of them looked like they'd love nothing more than to see that happen.

You all sat down at the conference table except Agent DiNozzo who was wound up tighter than a jack in the box.

"Did Kathy give you a description of this blind date she was seeing?" Jethro started the questioning with. You spoke about everything you knew from the phone call you had with Kathy, tearing up towards the end, still not believing your friend was dead.

Jethro reached out to hold your hand and give you a tissue to wipe your eyes with, making his agents stare in interest at the caring gesture.

"It's like I'm in an alternate Gibbs reality," DiNozzo whispered to Agent David.

Jethro shot him a look before speaking. "Why aren't the two of you putting out a BOLO on this guy?"

"On it boss," Agent DiNozzo spoke quickly, leaving the room with Agent David following close behind, shutting the door after them.

"I think you should stay with me just in case until we catch the killer," he offered, standing up.

"Ok," you squeaked, not wanting to do much talking anymore.

"Come ere," he ordered softly, pulling you to your feet and into his arms for a hug. You accepted it eagerly, breathing in his scent, calming you down a bit.

Once you were better, the two of you walked out of the room and into the squad room, not expecting to be stared at by almost everyone there.

"What kind of reputation do you have with the opposite sex to make everyone look at me like the new zoo exhibit?" you asked Jethro, making him chuckle.

"They're just being nosy. Ignore them."

Jethro stopped Agent DiNozzo from asking anymore questions about the two of you as well as pulling you away from a very animated Forensic Scientist that seemed to have had entirely too much caffeine.

Jethro accompanied you back to your house where you packed a bag before driving you to his house, making a drawer available for you in his bedroom.

"I get my own drawer now. Things are really becoming serious, aren't they?" you teased him.

"Hey, I'm not the one who told my agents that I was your boyfriend," he retorted.

"Should I not have?" you asked genuinely worried that you had overstepped a boundary. He pulled you into his arms, staring into your eyes and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I don't mind the title. Just know that they're gonna have a million questions for you now," he stated, referring to his very curious agents. You smiled, giving him a peck on the lips and loving the new stage you both were now in.

"That's alright. I'll be sure to tell them how you love it when I give you back scratches while we cuddle together and watch movies."

Your joking was cut short as his fingers pressed themselves into your ribs, effectively tickling you till the both of you were on the bed, him hovering above you.

"You know, had it not been for you, I wouldn't have had an alibi for last night," you told him, running your fingers through his hair.

"Must of slipped my mind but," he murmured into your skin, kissing your shoulder. "I don't exactly remember how last night went. Maybe you can help jog my terrible memory."

Laughing at his playfulness, you played into it, pulling him in for a passionate kiss, ready to remind him exactly what happened that night.

[idk6123]

Puppeteer The Puppeteer (Homelander X Male Reader)

With The Seven constantly being on the hot seat, Homelander only wishes one thing during days like these, control. He wishes there were a way The Deep do less dumb stuff. He wishes A-Train wasn’t some junkie that relies on drugs to use his powers. He wishes he could actually trust Starlight. He wishes Queen Maeve actually would listen to him and stop hating him. He wishes Translucent was still alive. He was fine with Black Noir.

With the lack of a member, he wishes someone more reliable to have in the team. Someone that meets all of his requirements, strong, obedient, trustworthy, basically everything that lacks with his current team. Thus, he got Ashley to scout for potential heroes.

“…And by doing this, we will be keeping up with the trend for more inclusivity.”

Homelander frowns and drops the information file on his desk. “You really think someone blind and in a wheelchair would fit the team?”

“She may be handicapped, but she’s strong. Besides, we never had a handicapped person in The Seven.”

“True, but we do have one in the PR team.” Homelander ruthlessly comment. Without even looking at the offended Ashley, the blonde looks through the files of how he finds interestingly enough to take even a peek.

“Luckily, we many other candidates. I’m sure we can reach a compromise-” Homelander drops the files on the side. Then he gestures to Ashley to give him the files she’s holding. She’s quick to give it to him, making him to look again. “We have plenty of strong heroes who will make the public-” She then stops talking when Homelander stops browsing to look at one file in particular. Judging by his face, he found his new hero. “Who’re you looking at?”

With a satisfied smirk, Homelander continues to look through the file. “We got our new member.”

-

“I highly advice to not get him.” In the hallway, Ashley is following Homelander, who’s meeting his new teammate. “He just made his break as a hero. He only got 11 followers on Instagram, most of them being family members. He caught only 2 burglars. He’s an introvert and I’m not surprised he only leave the house to do grocery shopping. The only good thing is that he’s gay, but I got 100 gay guys on my list.”

“I don’t care about them. I want him.” Homelander insist. He doesn’t stop walking. Not even looking at Ashley as he talks. “And if you’re going to have trouble having him good PR, that is your problem.” With that, Homelander enters his office, with Ashley following him with stress.

Inside of the office, Homelander is quick to see the young man, who looks a bit nervous. He stands up to give his new boss a nervous smile. “It’s an honor meeting you, sir.”

Homelander accepts his hand, smiling back at him. “Please drop the formalities. Please treat me like you treat your friends.”

After introductions, Y/N sit back on his seat, while Homelander is sitting opposite of him. Ashley is standing at the side, wondering what her boss is up to. “I have to say, I’m quite surprised I received a call. I just started all of this, and I’m already being recognized by The Seven.”

“There is a reason for that.” Homelander shows a kind smile. “You got a gift like no other, Y/N. “I never seen a telepath that has such potential like you have. I know you’re an amateur right now, but I can see in front of me a hero that will save millions of lives.”

Y/N blushes a bit, didn’t expecting to receive so many complements from his idol. “T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you don’t mind, I would like to see you demonstrating your powers. I want to see how good you are right now.” Homelander requests. “I want you to tell me something embarrassing of Ashley.”

Ashley looks alarmed, with Y/N being taken a little aback. “…I don’t use my powers on people casually unless necessary.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine with it.” Homelander brushes it off. Although not wanting it, Ashley merely forced a painful smile. “Besides, considering this is about your future, don’t you think it’s necessary?”

Y/N knows things seems off, but this is ones in a lifetime chance. So, he uses his powers. Within a second, his face looks disgusted. “What kind of BDSM shit are you in?”

Homelander looks amused as Ashley looks even more embarrassed. “I don’t even need her to confirm it that you did it.” He then leans over. “Now for my final request. I want you to use your mind control power, take over Ashley’s mind and do something ridiculous in the hallway.”

“Wait-!”

Before Ashley could beg for Y/N not to, he did, though he feels a bit guilty. Her entire face only shows some hollowness. As she walks to the hallway, Homelander smirks and stand up. Both men get out of the hallway to see what’s going to happen. There, Ashley stands in the middle of it, with people passing by, not knowing what is going to happen.

“Attention! People! Attention!” Every worker in the hallway looks at her. “I need to confess something! Yesterday, we had a party back at my house, but I didn’t invited most of you. I want to apologize for sleeping in front of some of you and I was advised to go to the doctors.” Every worker frowns at hearing her. “I also want to apologize for the… ‘bathroom’ incident. I shouldn’t drink that much, and I got karma for it. I puked over some of you… and I’m sure you also saw me shitting in my pants at the same time. Again, I’m apologize, and I’m hope we can work normally from now on.” With that, she walks away. When she’s gone from the scene, Y/N let go of her mind.

Homelander looks proud at him as he put his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Congratulations teammate. You’re in.”

-

Somehow, Ashley managed to create a story surrounding the new Seven member. Y/N apparently helped Homelander during a mission as a rookie, without knowing the big hero were there. Because of it, Homelander took the newly hero under his wing and train him. The whole spin is basically a sidekick and coach relationship, which worked well for the public.

Right now, it’s the first interview for the new hero. As he awaits in the lounge room, he nervously thinks through the interview, playing it in his mind. Homelander walks in, knowing Y/N is stressing.

“You don’t look too good, buddy.”

“…I never got interviewed before, that’s all.” Y/N nervously steps on the ground. “Especially not one at national tv.”

Homelander gives him an assures smile as he walks over to him. “Remember you can just be yourself. It’s alright to be shy. In fact, Ashley would love to represent someone more introverted on the big screen. Just be humble, nice and honest, exactly how we met. Think you can do that?”

Y/N hums. “Yeah. I’m not one for scripts to be honest. But I’m fine lying if it makes you guys lives a bit easier.”

Homelander looks proud. “That’s my sidekick.” He put an arm around the younger man, who looks a bit nervous. “And don’t worry. I’m going to sit right besides you if you need me.”

Y/N can’t help but smile. “Thanks.”

-

Y/N been accustom quiet well in The Seven. He and Starlight became quick friends. He took training sessions with Queen Maeve. He and Black Noir often spend time together, since both aren’t much talkers. He got stamina training from A-Train. He doesn’t talk to The Deep because he’s currently off the team because he raped someone. Y/N isn’t one to judge people quickly, but he makes an exception with him. That leaves Homelander, who spends the most time with. He helps him train his powers, his fighting moves and helping him PR wise. The boy often views Homelander as his mentor, and comes to him for general life advice, like today.

“I can tell there is something up your mind.” Homelander speaks up as both eat their lunches. “You can talk to me.”

“Well…” Y/N looks a bit uncomfortable. He takes a second for how to phrase it. “…So, I met this guy at security. He’s kinda my first friend that aren’t you guys. But yesterday, he… he asked me out.”

This makes the blonde curious. “Like a date?”

“Y-Yeah…” Y/N replies. “I never had one, so… I’m a bit nervous.”

Homelander smiles, as he thinks through the situation. He’s quick to have a solution in his mind for the new problem. “Want some advice? Just be yourself. He already knows you, so don’t worry about presenting yourself as being social or something. Besides, there is nothing to be ashamed of being quiet.”

Y/N can’t help but smile. “Basic advice, but your right. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

-

Later that day, Homelander got to the guy’s apartment to ‘fix’ the problem. Afterwards, all he had to do is send a text to Y/N the date is off because he wasn’t interested. Knowing the effect he’s going to get; he calls it a day and await for the next act.

The next day, he met with Y/N in the training room, seeing him more stoic then usual. “Everything alright there?”

“…My date bailed on me.” Y/N avoids looking at Homelander. “He said he wasn’t interested.”

“You serious?” Homelander sits down at the side. Afterwards, he gestures his sidekick to sit besides him, which he does. “What a jerk. Are you alright?”

Y/N shakes his head. “…I-I was really looking forward for it. I thought, maybe now I’m in The Seven, it’s fine to be the quiet guy… but it looks things hasn’t changed a bit.”

Homelander put an arm around Y/N, scooting him a bit over to him. “Don’t be ashamed. I know you’re an amazing guy. You’re kind, polite, honest and a hard worker. If he called the date off, that is his loss, because any guy is lucky to be with you.” With that being said, he put his other hand on Y/N’s knee, making the man blushing a bit as Homelander’s face is so close.

“Y-You really think so.”

“I don’t think so. I know it.” Homelander smiles warmly. “Think you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” Y/N smiles. “I’m going to be fine.”

-

Some days later, Homelander invited Y/N to his room. Once there, he sees the blonde holding a bottle of champagne alongside two glasses on the table.

“Since you did so well last mission, I thought we should celebrate.” He opens the bottle, as a pop sound comes from it. With a smile, he tempts Y/N to drink, which he does.

With both men smiling, they drink the champagne from the glass as they sit down. Homelander is proud of his sidekick, now finally being stand on his own. Last mission, Y/N managed to mind control 10 people at the same time. Without even getting someone hurt, he successfully removed some terrorist who would’ve ended innocent people’s lives.

“Just imagine what you can do in the future. Wouldn’t be great if you could do, let’s say, 100 people?”

“I had already trouble doing with 10.” Y/N laughs. “It’s going to be a while before I can do even 20. That being said, it’s all thanks to you. You saw the potential in me and helped me achieve it.”

“You’re welcome. I know talent when I see it.” Homelander smiles. “And I know you’re only to get better from here out.”

“I feel like that too.” Y/N sounds hopeful.

“And I continue train you. …But I have something to confess to you. I have an ulterior motive.”

Y/N is curious. “Really? What’s it?”

“Well…” Homelander avoids looking at him. “When I first saw your file, I knew you were going to be a great member, and I was more then happy to help you. But as I spend more time with you, I grew more attach to you. Not as a teammate, or a friend, but as someone who cares for you.”

Y/N looks a bit stunned. “…You mean as a partner?”

Homelander looks back at him. “Nothing would make me happier to have you at my side… as something more then a friend.”

“W-Wow…” Y/N continues to look startled. “…I-I never expected this.”

Homelander smiles. “It’s alright. Take your time.”

“I… I would be very happy to be your boyfriend.”

With a wider smile, the hero leans in and kisses Y/N, who nervously kisses back. Both of them being gentle with the other. It was short, but it was sweet, something what the blonde was going for. After the kiss, he put his hand on Y/N’s cheek.

“You look so beautiful. I’m very happy to have you at my side.”

-

The next day and the big hero wake up in his bed. His eyes quick to look at the side to see Y/N lying next to him. His front is facing towards him. With a wide smile, Homelander get on his side to carefully hug Y/N, who’s face is now against his chest. The new recruit mutters something.

“Y/N?”

But it appears he’s still asleep. The blonde then looks pass Y/N’s head. As he continues to smile, he knows he got what he wanted. To have someone’s loyalty, now in the form of love. And to make it better, have someone that is powerful. With his powers, Homelander can use his telepathic abilities to get any information instantly and control someone’s mind without any problem. Sure, he needs to mold his lover to do what he wishes, but if he continues to be patient and dedicated to his project, things will turn out very well.

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."

Warning: Intolerance, toxic religion, parental relationship, Jungkook taking off his clothes 😮‍💨🤲 very dumb reader.

A/N: This is my first fanfic on Tumblr and my first BTS one. I know, it's embarrassing. The story isn't that great, and it probably shouldn't be the first one I post here, but the characters took on a life of their own without my consent, and I've been writing this since 2022 (fuck), so here we are. Please keep in mind that English is not my first language and that the reader is extremely annoying. See you on the next chapter! Thank You.

Next Chapter

Chapter 1

I organize the things from the bazaar as I go through the accessories spread out on the table. It's a calm easy task and I've done it more than a thousand times, so even with my eyes closed the job is done masterfully. My mother is next to me, quietly, listening to music on an old radio that she refuses to throw away. It seems that, since it's a radio she got as a teenager, the object has a deep meaning for her and she doesn't even like the thought of exchanging it for something more modern. I hum along too, trying to tune my voice in some parts where the music gets harder and the notes get higher.

Usually on the weekends, every Sunday, my mother and I go to church and the bazaar after the service, to raise money and help the pastor's project. Pastor Leen is a good man and always helps everyone in need, so this semester, during these last months of the year, he has been focusing on the animals that live on the streets. Everyone in the community who goes to church participates and helps in whatever way they can, whether through donations or fundraising, like my mother and I do. That’s why we gathered some clothes and items for the church bazaar, and with the sales, we can do our part. It's exhausting, but rewarding in the end.

During the week, I study at the university in my town and work at the library, so there's not much time for rest, but I like having a busy life. Although I know that, for some people, my idea of a busy life might not seem busy at all. At twenty-one, I’m supposedly supposed to be somewhere else in the world, enjoying my youth and partying with my friends, but strangely, I never wanted that. Whether it’s because of my mother, who always instructed me not to follow that path, or because I’m just introverted, I’ve never gone to parties or had adventures that I could look back on later. The most out-of-the-ordinary thing I've ever done was drink beer when I was eighteen and regret it the next day, feeling guilty for being influenced by a friend.

I’ve never left this town. I’ve never dated. I’ve never been to a party. I haven’t done many memorable things in life. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll regret not having these experiences someday, but I’m so tied to the way I live my life that it’s hard to change, even just a little. Habits are hard to break, whether for better or worse. I’m pulled from my thoughts when the store door opens and Mrs. Jeon walks in with a smile on her face and two heavy bags in her hands. I quickly get up intending to help her, but my mother is faster.

“Good morning, Eunji,” Mrs. Jeon greets my mother, letting out a relieved sigh as the weight of one of the bags is lifted from her hands. “Good morning, Y/N, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Jeon. How has your week been?” I ask, taking the other bag from her. I peek inside and notice that it’s full of men’s clothes, judging by the size and the predominantly dark colors.

“Radiant, actually. My son arrived in town last night,” she says, her smile widening. I’m surprised because I didn’t know she had a son. Mrs. Jeon moved to town six years ago, and I don’t recall any son visiting her or her mentioning him. This is the first time she’s spoken about it, at least in front of me.

“Your son, Jungkook?” my mother asks, curious, and our neighbor nods, still beaming. “Doesn’t he live in Seoul?”

“Yes, he does. But he’s been expanding his business, and I invited him to visit, and coincidentally, he decided to open a branch here,” she explains, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. My mother instantly flashes a smile. An interested smile that I know all too well.

Of course, because I’ve never dated, my mother is always trying to set me up with someone. Not that I want her to. I never asked her to make all this effort, much less to convince the church ladies to introduce their sons just because I’m single. It’s embarrassing, as if I’m not capable of finding someone on my own without my mother’s help, but she doesn’t listen, even when I had an honest conversation with her asking her to stop trying to play Cupid.

"What kind of business?" my mother asks, and I try not to roll my eyes. For a woman of God, she worries way too much about money and status. It's a controversial topic that has led to arguments between us in the past.

"He's a tattoo artist. He owns a tattoo studio in Seoul," Mrs. Jeon explains with a proud smile, and my mother's face immediately turns serious. The charm of a potential son-in-law is lost. Of course, no one is ever perfect enough for her—or for me, in her eyes.

I love my mother. She’s strong, and many times I look up to her when making important decisions, but she judges people too harshly. Ever since she joined the church when I was younger, she’s changed. She changed her clothes, the way she speaks, and even her thoughts. I can’t even remember what she was like before, and even though all these changes were a support for her after my father passed away, some aspects of the situation still bothers me. The fact that she believes people are going to hell just for having different opinions and ideas is one of them. Of course, I don’t argue with her about it and rarely express my point of view. If she knew how I really thought, I’d be a princess locked in her room, with no peace and even less freedom than I already have at home.

"He's a tattoo artist?" my neighbor nods, not noticing the bitter tone in my mother's voice. I decide to step in, anticipating some sharp comment from the woman beside me.

"Mrs. Jeon, thank you so much for the clothes and for your help. Just today we had three customers, and the clothes you donated sold very quickly," I interject, changing the subject. The tension in my shoulders eases as my neighbor shifts her focus to the bag in my hands.

"Oh, no need to thank me. I want to do as much as I can to help the animals. I adopted a puppy last week and I’m in love!" she says, placing her hands on her cheeks with joy, and I can’t help but smile. Mrs. Jeon is one of the few older people from the church that I enjoy talking to.

"What’s his name?"

"Gureum. He’s an angel," she says, forming the small size of the puppy with her hands.

"Gureum? Don’t tell me he’s all white," I guess, laughing at the name.

"He is!" she laughs with me, jingling the keys in her hand. "Anyway, I hope we get plenty of donations this month. I can't wait to see the results of our work."

"That’s true, Misuk. This month the winter will be harsher, so we have to act more quickly this year," my mother continues, and the conversation shifts to the church project. I feel more relieved as the minutes pass and Mrs. Jeon leaves. Not because of her, of course, but because of the situation itself. My mother is very straightforward and usually says what she thinks, no matter who it hurts. I don’t want my relationship with our neighbor to be ruined just because my mother doesn’t know how to hold her tongue.

"Did you hear what she said?" Eunji asks, her eyes wide, one hand on her chest as if she’s deeply shocked. "Her son is a tattoo artist! Do you think he has those awful marks all over his body?"

"Probably, Mom," I sigh, trying to focus on the clothes Mrs. Jeon just brought. "And Mom, don’t talk like that. She’s our neighbor."

"Even so! Y/N, that only happens when parents don’t know how to properly guide their children. How can a mother, who goes to church, let her son go down such a horrible path in life?"

"We don’t know how her son lives, and it’s none of our business, Mom!" I try to keep calm as I fold a large black T-shirt, but then I remember that before organizing the items, we have to wash them, and I couldn’t be happier about that.

Usually, the clothes are washed at our house, and my mother still has to stay at the bazaar for a while longer. Honestly, I don’t want to be around her listening to how good of a mother she was just because I go to church and don’t have a tattoo on my arm. It irritates me, and it’s hard not to let her notice, but for the sake of peace, I try my best, nodding and agreeing with all the nonsense she says.

"Mom, I’m going to take all these things home and get everything ready for the bazaar, okay?" I try to force a smile, but my face feels stiff. My head is throbbing, and I can’t wait to get home. I’ve been out of my room all day, and there’s nothing more exhausting than that, at least for me. She murmurs in agreement, probably annoyed that she can't keep talking badly about Mrs. Jeon’s son, but I don’t care and just leave.

I regret it a little halfway home because the bags are heavy, and even though the distance isn’t long, it’s hard to carry all the clothes by myself. I arrive home out of breath. The sky is overcast, with dark gray clouds covering it, but I’m sweating as if I just ran a marathon. I laugh a bit at my lack of fitness, promising myself that I’ll start the morning walks I keep putting off, and I head to the laundry room to start organizing the clothes.

When I open the bag, I’m surprised by the items. Not only are they of good quality, but I’m also certain they don’t belong to Mr. Jeon. He dresses well, but not in this style. I can hardly imagine him wearing black jeans or a heavy jacket. I’m intrigued by who the owner might be, but I don’t waste time pondering it, too tired to unravel mysteries that aren’t even important. I leave the laundry room once everything is organized and head to my room, throwing myself onto the bed.

My room isn’t particularly special or different, but what I love the most about it is the bookshelf filled with books covering almost the entire wall. It was my dream from a young age to get a job and buy every book I was interested in, and luckily, that’s been possible since I started working at the library. It’s the perfect job for me, even if it’s temporary. I’m studying literature to become a teacher, and I can’t wait to start working in my dream job.

I sigh and pull my phone out of my dress pocket, too lazy to take off my clothes and go shower. I groan, placing my hands over my face, knowing there’s no escaping it after being out of the house all day. There’s no way I’m going to bed like this. Reluctantly, I get up and untie my hair, which falls in waves, heavy against my neck.

I bend down to grab the hem of my dress and start pulling it up, feeling even more tired. Today was such a long day. I can’t wait to go to bed and sleep until tomorrow. I take off my socks, lifting one foot behind the other, and as I head to the towel inside the wardrobe next to the bed, I unhook the bra that’s been bothering me all day. The relief is so immense that I let out a sigh, touching my breasts with my fingers and playing with my nipple, hardened by the cold air.

On my way to the bathroom, I stop and look at the window when I notice that the neighbor’s window—the one that had never been opened until now—is, in fact, wide open. I need a few seconds to realize that there’s someone on Mrs. Jeon’s balcony, and worse, it’s not her on the other side. It’s a man. The most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life.

I hide behind the bookshelf in my room, afraid that he might think I’m spying on him, but for some reason, I keep watching him with curiosity, hypnotized by the way he moves around the room and among the furniture. His dark, wavy hair falls over his face when, out of nowhere, he starts pulling his shirt over his back, taking it off lazily while focusing on the phone in his hands. He gives a small smile, almost as if he subconsciously knows the effect he’s having on me. My heart beats hard against my chest, and my breathing quickens; my mind fills with fantasy images of his pink lips and large, seemingly soft hands.

He is... gorgeous. Different. With tattoos all over his body. One of his arms is completely covered in designs, and his chest is adorned with images that I can’t quite make out. My mouth waters as my eyes roam over his strong back and shoulders. His pale skin glows under the dim light of the yellow lamp, and it’s hard to catch my breath. It’s like observing a work of art. A forbidden work of art, I know. It’s wrong. But I can’t convince my mind that I should stop. The man, still a stranger, smiles at his phone as the screen lights up his face. Unlike his body, which exudes sensuality and is intimidating, his smile is sweet and gentle, and the most charming I’ve ever seen. He tosses the phone onto the bed, unbuckling the leather belt around his waist and deftly undoing the buttons of his jeans. That’s when the trance that literally had me delirious breaks. I slam the window shut, desperate at my own madness.

What was I doing? How could I have seen a stranger stripping like a complete pervert? I feel so bad, guilty for having crossed the line and done something as wrong as this. I gulp, covering my face with my hands. I let out a tortured sigh and feel my heart racing uncontrollably. I am sweating, as if I had done a heavy workout, when in fact, I had been standing still the entire time. I peek through the gaps in my window to see the room in Mr. Jeon's house, but I can't see anything anymore and I don't have the courage to open the curtains and try to look at the man again.

It's the first time in many years that I have felt something like this. Could it be desire? I can't remember the last time I felt anything like this. I recall having a small and first crush on a boy at school, something innocent, when I didn't even know what it meant to like someone romantically or as a friend. This was, throughout my life, the only consistent experience in recent years. It scares me that suddenly I feel something different for someone, even if it's minimal. I let out a sigh and cover my face, embarrassed by my own behavior. To make things worse, I'm not even wearing clothes. I rush to the bathroom and close the door, staring at myself in the mirror. I am so dazed that even my cheeks are dark red. I close my eyes tightly and head to the shower, trying to let the water wash away my thoughts. It doesn't work. I spend the whole night gazing at my bedroom window, full of images that I can't forget or erase.

I have a normal day after the almost exhausting night. I study in the morning about different approaches with children on the autism spectrum, which I find completely interesting and complex, and then I work in the afternoon at the college library on campus. This is actually great because I can study even during my work hours with free access to all available books, which has saved my life in recent months. The first semester of classes was tough, but this second one has been terrible, with piled-up assignments and deadlines that are almost impossible to meet, at best. My life has revolved around this routine, and the ordeal of exams hasn't even started. On my way home, I stop at a convenience store to buy something to eat and bike towards my house, which, honestly, isn’t very far but is extremely tiring.

I get home exhausted, collapsing on the sofa almost immediately. My mother appears from the kitchen with a serious face and a tense expression, as if something very grave had happened.

"You won't believe who invited us to dinner." she comments, placing one hand on her hip.

"Who?" I ask, just out of courtesy. Besides not being hungry, I'm not interested in the subject, too stressed with college stuff to pay attention to my mother.

"Misuk."

"And what's the problem, Mom?" I roll my eyes. Until yesterday, my mother had no problem with our neighbor, and now she acts like the woman is forbidden or not good enough to be her friend.

"Did you forget, YN?" she asks, crossing her arms. "Her son, the one from Seoul, will be at the dinner."

I turn pale, my mouth dry. How could I have forgotten this? College has consumed all my thoughts during the day, but I would never forget that man. The man I saw through the window is Mrs. Jeon's son, I suppose. I concluded this after spending the whole night mulling over my thoughts and reliving that body and face, which I can’t even recall without blushing. I’ve already eaten at college and feel satisfied, but the first thing I do when my mother mentions the dinner is smile.

"I’ll go with you." I affirm, unsure. If my heart raced so much from a distance of Mr. Jeon's son, I can't imagine what will happen if I see him up close. But I'm so curious that I can't avoid it. I want to see him. I want to prove that everything I felt last night wasn’t just a product of my imagination tainted by romance novels.

"The truth is, I wanted to cancel the dinner."

"You didn't cancel, did you?" I ask, trying not to sound too desperate. My mother shakes her head, which makes me sigh with relief.

"No, but I'm curious about the guy. I want to see what he's like and make a better judgment about him. I just ask that you don’t get involved with that kind of person. He’s a tattoo artist and lives alone, so young. Who knows what he does alone in a city like Seoul." she says, and I agree with a noise in my throat.

I’m also curious about him, Mom, but not for the same reason as you. I stay silent as I go upstairs to my room. I look for some slightly nicer clothes without much expectation but I don’t have anything different from conservative or old. I feel sad for no reason and convince myself that it doesn’t matter what I choose to wear; a man like the one I saw last night will never be interested in me, no matter what I put on. I quickly shower, then, after my mom calls me from downstairs, I look at myself in the mirror, staring at the dark blue dress that goes down to just below my knees. I roll my eyes and simply go, with little enthusiasm.

My mom has a bowl with a freshly baked cake, and after saying it's for the neighbors, we head out. It’s the house next door, but the short walk feels like an eternity to me. My heart races as we approach, and I let my mom lead the way, walking ahead. She knocks on the door with three taps, and we don’t wait long before Mr. Jeon appears. He’s a man in his fifties, but very handsome and friendly, wearing a long-sleeve shirt and comfortable house slippers. He smiles at both of us, still holding the doorknob and giving us space to enter.

"Good evening, Eunji, good evening, Y/N." he greets us. I nod, a little embarrassed. Unlike Mrs. Jeon, I don’t see him often, as he is very busy with work and doesn’t attend church regularly.

"Good evening, Yejun."

"Good evening, Mr. Jeon. Thank you for having us." I smile, genuinely grateful. I truly like the couple, as every time I see them, they always treat me very well.

"What a polite girl, isn’t she?" he says to my mother in a joking tone, then looks at me kindly. "You don’t need to thank us. We love having you two here. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable."

"I brought a cake for after dinner." my mom says with a smile. "Where is Misuk? I want to give it to her."

"She’s in the kitchen, finishing organizing things. Shall we go there?"

I follow them in silence, having little to do. My mom is more accustomed to the environment, as she comes here a few times for church meetings. I take a few steps toward the kitchen when a noise on the stairs catches my attention. Then he appears, and like magic, everything I felt before resurges, ten thousand times worse. I catch my breath as I see him slowly descending the stairs. He is much taller than me and different from what I imagined, now up close.

His eyes are dark, bright and large, which strangely complements his sharp jawline. His lips are a beautiful pink that makes me run my tongue over my mouth, enchanted by their apparent softness. Pink is now my favorite color. He exudes a powerful aura with his heavy clothes and his body built like a big mountain towering over me, but when he smiles, I am captivated. His smile is sweet, friendly, and inviting, making me want to get closer. However, the thing that catches my attention the most is the eyebrow piercing. My God. What a man.

"Hello, how are you?" he says with a boyish smile, and I blush instantly. I try to maintain a mantra in my mind, repeating several times: calm down, calm down, calm down! "My name is Jungkook, are you my mother’s neighbor?"

"Y-yes." I stammer and almost instinctively close my eyes, frustrated with myself. He smiles even more, squinting his dark eyes as if he finds me amusing.

"Nice to meet you. What’s your name?" he asks with a soft voice, and I feel embarrassed for not having said my name earlier.

"My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you." This time I don’t stammer, but I speak so quietly that I fear he might not have heard me.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. My mom talks a lot about you." he says, confirming that yes, he did hear me.

I open my mouth to try to say something, but suddenly my mother appears. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. I wanted more chances to talk and discover new things about him, but all I was managing to do was look like an idiot who hasn’t left the house in years, completely antisocial. My shoulders slump, and I follow my mother to the dining room in silence, feeling embarrassed. I can almost feel Jungkook’s presence behind me, but I don’t have the courage to turn around and glimpse his expression. I almost automatically remember him taking off his clothes, showing the tattoos that are now hidden, and I flush even more, almost choking on my own saliva.

"Good evening, Y/N!" Mrs. Jeon smiles at me, already seated at the table. I feel guilty for almost drooling over her son earlier but I smile, greeting her in the same way.

"Good evening, Mrs. Jeon. The smell of the food is delicious, as always." I say, seeing the vegetables on the table and the meat next to it that looks divine. If I hadn’t eaten earlier, I’d be attacking the food, with respect, of course.

"Always so sweet, Y/N." she smiles. "Please, have a seat. Jungkook, sit next to her." she requests. I try to not choke again, just nodding, watching the man I am incredibly attracted to sit to my right side.

His parents and my mom engage in a lively conversation, and I try to pay attention in case they ask me something, but the truth is, I can’t follow along at all. Jungkook eats in silence and occasionally answers my mother’s questions, which I’m sure are meant to gather more material for judgment when we get home, but I can’t follow any of the reasoning. Besides being handsome, polite and kind, he also smells good.

With the clothes he wears and the tattoos decorating his body, I would swear his perfume would be woody and strong, but it’s quite the opposite. His scent reminds me of spring, or nature like a field full of flowers. It’s a scent I could absorb all day. Lost in thought while I play with the fork on my plate and the cabbage kimchi I served myself, I don’t notice him coming closer to me and my ear. My whole body shivers with his breath. I try to not make it too obvious, but I think it’s in vain since I hear his soft laugh even closer to my neck.

"Do you want to go to the kitchen, Y/N?" Jungkook asks in a whisper so close that I look around just to make sure no one is watching, especially my mother, who seems to have already formed a prejudiced opinion about him.

"Why?" I ask in a whisper, confused.

"I want to ask you something." he smiles crookedly, which makes me even more disturbed. I nod, still unsure about what I’m agreeing to. He quickly stands up, and I almost instantly follow him. When we get to the kitchen, he turns around quickly, watching me attentively, crossing his arms over his chest.

"W-what do you want to ask me?" I swallow nervously.

"I was thinking whether I should talk to you about this, but after meeting you tonight, I think it’s for the best, anyway." he says with a serious face. His previously relaxed attitude changes completely, as if all the fun from earlier had drained away.

I become worried, my mind filled with questions, until something occurs to me. What if last night, somehow, he realized I was watching him? My body turns to jelly at the thought, and my heart beats faster as I look at his face. I would die, seriously. I would fall to the ground and never wake up again. My hands tremble as I wait for his question.

"Are you and my mother very close?" he asks in a whisper, this time with a weak voice, looking at his own intertwined hands. I nod in agreement, even more confused. Since Mrs. Jeon moved to my city, we’ve become something like friends, despite the significant age difference. I consider her, even if mistakenly, like a mother.

"Yes. I think we have a close relationship. Why the question?" he shifts uncomfortably. He tries to smile but can’t. I am worried but silent, waiting for his answer.

"My mother is sick, Y/N." he says quietly, with a weak voice. My eyes widen at the news. I never imagined this is what he wanted to talk to me about. From his seriousness, it seems to be something very grave. "That’s why I came to the city. She had depression years ago and last month she tried to take her own life for some reason."

"She didn’t tell anyone, I’m sure." I say as much as I can, still shaken and shocked. Mrs. Jeon seems so happy lately that I could never imagine something like this. My eyes fill with tears, but I try to contain the flood of emotions inside me, embarrassed to act this way with a previously unknown person.

"I know. I was shocked when I found out." he explains, running his fingers through his dark hair as if he were tired. "She wants to spare people from the situation, but I wish everyone could know and support her. She shouldn’t be thinking about anyone’s well-being right now, except her own. That’s why I came to Busan, to take care of her."

"I understand." I whisper with a lump in my throat. I want to take his trembling hands and assure him that everything will be okay, but I don’t have that much courage. I wish I were casual and authentic and had the ease to simply say what I’m thinking. It’s the first time that not being this way makes me upset and sad. I wish I could be someone else right now. I wish I could help more.

"I apologize for bringing this up so suddenly. I hope I haven’t ruined your evening. I’m sorry." he smiles awkwardly, puffing his cheeks, and a previously hidden dimple appears. His face turns red and I can’t help but like him even more.

"Don’t worry. Really. Thank you for telling me the truth. I want to help in any way I can. I'll try to keep her company more often."

"Thank you so much, Y/N." he smiles, with his eyes shining. "I knew it was a good idea to tell you the truth. I knew I could count on you."

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments.

[rileyslibrary]

Reader has a new haircut and HATES it. Can we get a little comfort from Ghost?

———————————————————————

Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks as you look into the bathroom mirror. You run your hand through your hair, trying to fix the mess, then tuck a strand behind your ear.

“Why did you do this?” You murmur to yourself, “Why?”

You were feeling adventurous; that’s why. You wanted to “shake things up a little bit,” as you explained to your hairstylist. You showed him a picture for reference, ignoring his warning that the person in the photo was wearing a wig. So he did as he was told: he cut and styled your hair, just like that picture, and it looked beautiful. However, everything vanished as soon as you showered this morning.

You take a closer look and exhale through pursed lips. As you try to tame the strands in front of your face, a a biblical tale comes to mind. The story of Samson, a man who derived his mighty strength from his hair, and Delilah, who ordered someone to cut it while he was sleeping, stripping him of his power. You were both Samson and Delilah in your own tragic way.

You close your eyes and prepare to face the world outside the bathroom: your teammates, your superiors, him.

With your head lowered, you walk towards your office, barely acknowledging those around you. Usually, you would smile and greet people passing by, but today is different. Today, you avoid eye contact, try to take as little space as as possible so you go undetected, and when someone acknowledges your presence, you mutter a barely audible “good morning.” The only time you lift your head is when you have to salute a superior, and even then, you can’t wait to be dismissed so you can go back to counting the tiles on the corridor’s floor again.

You open the door to your office and find Ghost sitting at the top of his desk, cleaning his gun. He turns his head towards the door, greets you, and then shifts his attention back to his rifle. He stays still for a moment and turns to look at you again.

“Did you—”

“Yes.”

“Nice hairc—”

“Fuck off, Ghost.”

He furrows his eyebrows and cocks his head. His gaze follows you as you walk behind your desk, sit in your chair, and open your laptop. You feel his eyes piercing through you, and you bring your hand to your forehead, attempting to cover your face while you type in your password with the other hand.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Nothing,” you reply with a sigh, “it’s nothing; I’m sorry.”

He hops off his desk and slowly walks to yours. He stands beside you, towering above you, invading your private space.

“Ghost, please go back to your desk,” you whisper.

But he doesn’t listen. He gently pushes the papers on your desk aside and sits down.

“Hey.” He calls out, tapping the desk twice with his finger. You refuse to look at him and peek at his thighs instead.

“Is this how we’re going to be today?” He asks in a soft voice.

“Leave me alone, Simon.”

He reaches out and tickles your neck with his index finger. You shrug your shoulders and grasp his hand to stop him, but he seizes the opportunity, pinches your chin with his free hand, and redirects your face towards his.

“Look at me,” he orders.

You slowly lift your gaze to meet his. He looks at you with eyes full of understanding and compassion. He slowly tilts his head and rubs your chin with his thumb.

“This office isn’t big enough for two grumpy fuckers,” he jokes, “I need you to balance me out.”

He brings his hand to the side of your face, and you press your cheek against his palm.

“I’m human,” you reply, “I get grumpy as well.”

“Of course you do,” he reassures you. “Now, mind telling me what’s going on inside that head of yours?”

“Wanna take a wild guess, Lt.?” you ask and give him a side-eye.

“Is it something that has to do with the top of your head rather than the inside?” He ponders.

“Of course, it does, you asshole!” You cry and slap his hand away. “You, too, noticed how bad it looks!”

“I never said it looked bad!” He clarifies and throws his hands up. “You came in here with a new haircut and a frown; you don’t need a degree in applied mathematics to put one and one together!”

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” you reply, crossing your arms. “What matters is that I can’t stand my reflection in the mirror.”

He huffs and removes his mask, revealing his scarred face and messy hair. Though you have seen him many times without it before, it always surprises you when he grants you access behind his facade.

“Wanna talk about bad hair?” he says, pointing to the top of his head. “I have a permanent cow lick because of this mask, for fuck’s sake.”

You chuckle. “Well, it’s your choice to wear it, Lt.”

“And it was your choice to cut yours.”

“And I deeply regret it,” you whisper, lowering your head to your lap.

He shrugs. “It’s good to have regrets, grumpy; It means you’re learning, so you can make better decisions later.”

“Yes, but what about now, Ghost? How am I going to walk around like this?” You ask and tousle your hair.

He smiles and motions for you to stand up. As you comply, he grabs your wrist and pulls you onto his lap. He wraps one arm behind your waist, the other resting on your thighs.

“I have plenty of those if you want one.” He jokes and gestures towards his mask.

“I don’t want your kitschy mask, Lt.” You chuckle and slap his chest. “I want my hair back.”

“They’ll grow back,” he comforts you, “but in the meantime, we just have to play with the cards we’ve been dealt with, yeah?”

You rest your head on his shoulder and bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

“I guess so,” you whisper.

“You’ll get used to it, love,” he murmurs, rubbing your back. “All changes take some time to get used to.”

“That or I might decide to shave them completely.” You joke.

He laughs and kisses your forehead.

“Do whatever you want to your hair—cut it, dye it, shave it—I don’t fucking care,” he says as he strokes the back of your head. “But this?” He points his index finger to your heart, “Never change this.”

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