#man i doubt i tagged this properly oh well

[luvhughes43]

the beginning | jack hughes

au masterlist⭐️

summary: jack and yns relationship is super lowkey, but what happens when yn starts doubting why their relationship is so private?

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 5.6k

The first time you met Jack Hughes you were job shadowing a colleague of yours. It was your first real week of working at the New York Times, and with how busy the team's schedule was you were sent down with Lewis from the sports column to report on… something hockey related. You weren’t really sure, and Lewis didn’t care to fill you in. 

You had never given hockey two thoughts when you were growing up. Your father wasn’t interested in any sports aside from the usual football game on thanksgiving (which you had a theory he just watched to get out of festive activities and house work). And anyway, there was only one local ice rink where you grew up so you’d never really had the opportunity to learn about the sport. 

All that to say, you had no idea what you were doing. You watched Lewis pin his “The Athletic” reporters badge, and you fiddled with your visitors pass as you waited for the press conference to start. 

When the conference did start, you jotted down notes absentmindedly on your notepad. About halfway through the meeting, your attention is immediately pulled to a side door where a few men stood, snickering and whispering to each other. 

One of the men noticed you though, smirking half-heartedly in your direction as he nodded his head towards you. That small action caused the rest of the boys to look over in your direction. Your face flushed, and before you could look away your eyes connected with those of maybe the cutest guy you’ve ever seen. His hair was brown and overgrown, and his whole face lit up when he laughed. 

“Ow!” you whispered, rubbing your arm to try and alleviate the pain that was Lewis elbow knocking into your side. He pointed to the man speaking at the front of the room, and immediately looked away from you with an annoyed expression etched onto his face. “i’m sorry,” you whispered to Lewis but he shook his head in response. “pay attention.” his harsh tone brought you back to reality, and with one more glance at the cute man in the corner, you return all your attention back to the conference. 

⋆ ★

“Journalists still use notepads?” a teasing voice asks, and when you lift your head up from your notebook you see the same man from earlier staring at you. 

“We use recorders too but I'm just job shadowing so I didn’t think I needed it. Lewis the-” you stop your sentence short, well aware of the fact that this guy probably didn’t care about your writing tools or your coworker. 

The guy surprises you though. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and nods at you to continue. 

“Lewis, he works for the athletic paper. anyway, i was assigned to shadow him today because the woman who i was going to shadow had this breaking news story she had to cover,” 

“why didn’t you go with her?” the man asks, genuinely curious. 

“Well it's my first week and the woman is really particular about how she works. She said if I followed her she’d only get distracted,” you finish your story with the shrug of your shoulder. 

the guy nods in understanding before he pushes himself off and away from the wall. He squints a little and points to your name tag.

“Oh, i’m Y/n” you say, adjusting your name tag so he could read it properly. 

“I'm Jack” he smiles at you, and before either of you has time to say anything else, Lewis walks over to you grumbling. 

“It’s time to go,” 

you smile politely at Jack and he reciprocates. 

“See you around, Y/n” he raises his hand in a boyish fashion before retreating out of the hallway. 

⋆ ★

“It's so cold!” you shivered, voice quivering as you try to warm yourself up with the palm of your hands. you decided not to wear a coat tonight, against your better judgements, and now the frigid Manhattan air came to bite you in the ass. 

your friend nodded, teeth chattering as you two ran across the street and down the next block. 

your friends apartment came up first, and so she rushes out a quick goodbye before you set off down the street again. 

“Fuck! Where am I?” you hear a mans voice ask off in the distance. You wouldn’t normally try and investigate, but when you looked up and saw the familiar mop of brown hair, you made the decision to go over and talk to him.

“Jack?” you asked, hands still rubbing up and down your arms to try and provide you some warmth. 

Jack looks up startled, and once he recognizes it's you he relaxes again.

“Y/n right? From work?” he asks, and you nod as you step closer to him. The street lamps illuminate his face perfectly, hues of yellow and orange highlighting his features well.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face twisting in confusion as you watch Jack shrug out of his jacket. 

“I’ll let you wear my coat if you help me get.. here” Jack points to the blue destination point on his phone. 

You weigh your options, you could take his coat and help him out.. Meaning that you got to spend more time with him.. or, you could go home to the warmth of your apartment..

You hold your hand out for his jacket, and Jack smiles as he passes it over to you. 

You peer at his phone, taking a mental note of where he’s trying to go before leading him in the right direction. 

“Have you ever used google maps before?” you laugh teasingly, watching as the direction changes and the walk time gets shorter. “you were going in the complete opposite direction”

Jack chuckles, “my bad” 

The walk is silent for a minute, before Jack starts questioning you. “So… Do you usually take walks with strangers?”

“You're not a stranger, I met you like two days ago” you joke, knowing full well it's probably not wise to walk the streets with a man you've only ever spoken a few sentences to. 

Jack nods, and when you glance in his direction you see the hint of a smile grace his lips. “So, have you lived here long?” Jack asked at a stoplight. 

“I’ve lived in Manhattan for a year now. I did an internship last year for journalism and then they hired me” you explain as the walking light turns on and you both cross the street. “What about you? How long have you been in jersey?”

“I live in Jersey for the hockey season. I've been in Jersey for 4 years now? I think?” Jack speaks, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his NJD hoodie. “I grew up in Canada though, and I live in Michigan during the summers'' he explains.

“I’m from Denver, but I don't go visit much. I went to college here on the east coast and ended up staying through the summers to work” you speak, surprised at how easy it is to talk to Jack.

“I didn’t go to school,” Jack blurts out, and you bring your arm up to try and disguise your giggles as a cough. Jack seems embarrassed by his small outburst and quickly clarifies, “like I was drafted and went straight to the nhl” 

“That must’ve been hard” you hum, and Jack quirks an eyebrow at you. “Like, having to be in the real world so soon”

“you moved on your own at 18”

“Yeah but I moved for school. You were straight into the pros. That must've been a lot of pressure” 

Jack doesn’t respond, but you can tell by the way he’s carrying himself that your words rang true. 

“Anyway,” you pick up the conversation. “I really like living here. Yeah my hours are kind of insane, and rent is beyond… but I really like the city” 

“I think i’d live here,” Jack replies as he surveys the mostly empty streets. “there's always so much to do”

You nod, getting ready to cross the next street. “Uh, where are you going?” you call out, as Jack starts walking down the wrong street.

“There's a pizza place!” he says simply, and you stare at him confusedly before he explains. “I’m going to a bar, I can't drink without eating something” Jack shrugs and you walk to where he paused. He points to the small 24 hour pizza shop he wants to go to, and you both walk inside. 

After you both order, and you're sitting at your table with your food, you start to question things. “So, why were you wandering the streets? How did you get here from Jersey?” you ask, blowing on your steaming pizza before you take a bite. 

Jack mirrors you, taking a bite before he answers. “My friends and I all came together. They went out for dinner first but there was this shop I wanted to check out, they’ve got sick shoes, anyway that's not the point. they dropped me off at the store and so my plan was to just walk and meet up with them after but I… well got lost” 

You and Jack continue talking, time completely slipping by both of your minds as you let the conversation flow. You learnt that Jack did in fact like to read, and you made sure to give him a few recommendations before you both parted ways. 

“Do you want your jacket back?” you ask, already starting to shrug out of the warm material. 

He holds up a hand to stop you, “No you should wear it its cold-”

“I'm just walking back to my apartment I should be fine,” you say, shimmying your shoulder and letting the sleeve fall from your arm.

“Do you want me to walk with you?” Jack's question stuns you. 

“Aren’t you supposed to meet up with your friends?”

Jack only shrugs, “it’s only like 12 i’ve got plenty of time to catch up with them”

You nod slowly as you readjust Jack's coat on your body. 

“Plus, wouldn’t want you to take up any other stranger if they ask for directions” Jack jokes, “might make me jealous” 

You knew his comment was supposed to be a joke but… butterflies. Literal butterflies. 

Fifteen minutes later and you were outside of your apartment building. 

“Thank you” you say, “for the pizza and for letting me wear your jacket” 

Jack smiles at you brightly, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. It was like a natural reaction. 

“Thank you for taking me to where I needed to go,” Jack takes his turn in thanking you.

“But I didn't..” 

“It's the thought that counts” Jack grins as he pulls out his phone. “But, since you didn’t walk me to where i was going… i’ll accept your number as an apology”

“Apology?” you laughed, placing a hand over your heart and pretending to be shocked by his words. “If I recall you were the one who wanted to stop for pizza and to walk me home” 

“You're right, you're right,” Jack says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. 

“But I will give you my number,” you say, holding your hand out to accept Jack's phone. When you pass his phone back, your contact fresh in his list, Jack beams. 

“I’ll call you!” Jack yells out as he starts walking down the street. 

“How about you text me when you make it to the bar!” you shout back. “And by the way! You're going in the wrong direction!” you shout again, and Jack sighs loudly. He dramatically turns around before walking your way again. 

Before he has the time to say anything more, you give him a few directions so he doesn’t get anymore lost. 

Less than 30 minutes later, while finishing up your skincare routine, your phone lights up with a notification. 

Jack H: I made it! Thanks for tonight and for the directions

You went to sleep that night with a smile plastered onto your face.

⋆ ★

After that first “date” you and Jack routinely made plans to hang out. It started off with Jack texting you whenever he happened to be in the city, which then translated to you inviting him to all the new places in town you wanted to try. 

“I don't know how I feel about that,” Jack speaks in between spoonfuls of his ice cream. You two had just gotten out of an exhibit, something about ancient rome. 

“What? You never think about the roman empire?” you retort, thinking about Jack's interview that was posted earlier in the year. Jack rolled his eyes at you, but he smiled nonetheless. 

“Like, how do they even have all that stuff? It's been so long” 

“Yeah.. the armour was cool though,” you respond, shuffling across the crosswalk with Jack trailing after you. 

There’s a brief pause as you walk up White Street towards the little italian restaurant Jack wanted to stop at. 

“So, I was looking online and there’s this new exhibition popping up soon. Something about the elements and sensors… I don't know, it looked cool” Jack breaks the silence, and you have to bite back your smile. He was looking up exhibits for the two of you to go to? Last week he was talking about how much he didn't understand modern art!

“Since when are you interested in the arts?” you tease, knocking your shoulder against Jacks playfully. He looks down at you, eyes crinkled as he smiles. 

“It’s something to do,” Jack shrugs, “plus, let's not lie here! You’d love to hang out with me more,” Jack laughs teasingly, but you can sense the hope that lies beneath his words. 

“I’d love to hang out with you” your hand brushed against Jack without your knowledge. Your hand feels like it's on fire from the small contact. 

“It's a date then!” Jack cheers, grabbing ahold of your hand to steer you in the right direction. You could only hope he meant a real date. 

⋆ ★

The exhibit was great, but your time with Jack was even better. He always found ways to make even the most mundane things light up with colour. By the end of the night, you were positive that if you didn't ask Jack out on an official date, you’d lose your mind. 

Jack, ever the gentlemen, walked you up all 6 floors of your apartment. “I had a lot of fun tonight,” you say as soon as you reach your front door. 

Jack nods, easily agreeing with you. “I think i’m a changed man, that art thing was so cool” 

You laughed lightly, leaning against your door as you watched Jack ruffle his hair with his hand. “My turn to pick the activity next time?” you ask. 

“Yeah but no more ancient rome things” Jack easily jokes. 

“How about something more…” you hedge, unsure of how to ask Jack out. Of course you’ve asked him to go out places before but… this was very different. 

Jack leans against the staircase railing, tilting his head signalling for you to continue.

“Like…” you contine, all words escaping you as your attention is suddenly caught to the sight of his bare arms.

“A date?” Jack prompts, smirking as he catches you staring at him. 

Upon hearing the word date you're immediately crashing back to reality. Your hearts beating wildly, something you hadn’t felt since the early days of university. 

You nod, “yeah, yeah.. Like a date” you shake your head to clear it, and when you meet Jack's eyes he beams. 

“I’ll be waiting for you to text me the location then…” Jack's voice trails as he walks closer to you, leaning in as he presses a quick kiss to your check.

You stand there momentarily stunned, watching as he slowly walks backwards to the top of your floor's staircase. “I’ll see you on our date?” Jack calls out, and you mirror his bright smile. 

“I’ll see you on our date!” you call back, watching as Jack starts walking down the stairs. 

you were falling hard. 

⋆ ★

The big date came and went, and you and Jack continued dating silently. It was nice just being with him, away from all the pressures of his fans and his large social media presence. You had a small private account, so you would post some pictures on there, but you never officially went “public” with your relationship. 

Ynuser

Liked by jackhughes, claudia, and others

Ynuser life recently...

Tagged: jackhughes

That didnt mean there weren’t close calls though. With Jack being extremely popular, there were a few times when the two of you were photographed out by fans. 

After the first incident, you thought nothing of it. Of course someone would see you guys eventually. Although you weren’t sure how you felt about being photographed by random people out in public… Jack was always quick to reassure you that people would eventually forget about the photos. 

It wasn’t the forgetting you were worried about though. After being with Jack for a few months, your twitter feed started recommending you hockey content. Which was fine at first, until you saw all the speculations of yours and Jack's relationship.

You muted all the hockey terms you could think of on your twitter account… but that didn’t stop you from thinking of all those accounts words. Was it true that you weren’t Jack's type? Is that why he wasn’t posting you on his social media accounts? Did he actually prefer going to small coffee shops and art exhibitions? Or was he trying to hide you from the outside world? 

Even though you knew you liked your relationship being private… Was there an ulterior motive on Jack's end? Did he not find you pretty enough to post on main? You started to spiral. 

⋆ ★

The bar was much more crowded than you would've liked, but when your boyfriend invited you out you easily agreed. 

You sat in the corner of the booth all night, sipping on your vodka sodas and listening in on the conversation around you. The devils were doing good so far this season, and as a result, Jack had decided it was time to drag you out with him to the bar. You wished he hadn’t.

It’s not like you were an insecure person… (that was somewhat a lie), but when every girl was gorgeous and hitting on your boyfriend… it made you doubt things.

You watched all night as Jack looked at other girls, and your spiralling started to feel a lot more real. 

“Who is she?” you screamed, tears streaming down your face as your boyfriend of two years stared at you in shock.

“Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! I swear! It's you who-”

“When was the last time you slept together?” you shouted, your boyfriend winced at your biting words. 

“Last weekend…” your boyfriend finally admitted the truth. You had your suspicions that he was cheating on you for weeks now… and each time you brought it up he convinced you that you were crazy. “But baby!” his voice was frantic as you grabbed your bag and started shoving things into it. 

Your eyes were wild as you stared into the eyes of the boy that you had loved. When he had nothing else to say, you zipped up your bag and left. Your chest arched and your heart burned… you promised that you would never let yourself get cheated on again. 

A blonde touches Jack's arm. You know this because you're watching it happen, right in front of your eyes. You swig your now warm soda, blinking hard to will away the tears. 

You look away from the sight, causing you to miss the way Jack's eyes immediately try to seek yours after he brushes the girl away. 

The drive to your apartment was quiet. 

“Baby, what's wrong?” Jack asks, and despite how much you want to call him out, you feel juvenile about it. 

“Nothing,” you sigh, shifting in your seat so that you can look at Jack. He looks at you tenderly, as if whatever mysterious thing that's hurting you is hurting him too. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” Jack speaks up again a minute later, this time his eyes are trained on the road. 

“I know,” you whisper. “I’m just tired. Work was busy today”

Jack hummed in response, and that was the end of the conversation. As usual, he walked you up to your apartment, and then you kissed him goodbye. 

When he left you stayed up in bed and questioned everything. You knew you were being insecure, but were you paranoid too? You didn’t want to be hurt again and you were fearful that you would be cheated on again. It was irrational, you knew. But your ex was always being hit on and he took one of the girls up on… no. You wouldn’t let that man ruin anything else in your life. 

Everythings fine… you whisper to yourself, and soon enough you fall asleep.

⋆ ★

Things got worse from then on. Whenever Jack was gone on roadies you would read through every comment you could find about Jack’s types, his ex gfs, anything that you could find. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to them. It was like some cruel, sick addiction that you needed to keep up with. 

user82

Liked by jackhughes, and others

user82 recently… 🍸

“She's just a friend! What are you talking about?” Jack was immediately defensive when you brought up his liking habits.

“Listen, I’m not trying to be some insecure girlfriend but-”

“You are insecure!” Jack's voice is loud and his words slice through you like swords. 

Your eyes immediately start to water, “baby, I didn’t mean it” Jack rushes to your side, hand on your shoulder as he tries to get a good look at you. 

“I’m sorry…” you cry, your hands coming up to shield your face away from him. 

“No, I'm sorry. You're not insecure you’re right” Jack tries to soothe you but your mind goes numb. 

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

You let Jack drag you over to the couch, where you spend the rest of the night cuddling and watching some movie that was really just static noise. 

Your chest aches and your heart burns, but you knew that Jack was right. You were insecure. You didn't think you were as pretty as the girls who wanted him, and now you certainly didn’t think you were deserving of an instagram post. 

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

⋆ ★

After that night, you tried to distance yourself from Jack Hughes. When he was on roadies, you would take extra long to reply to his texts. You were also suddenly picking up more hours at work, volunteering to cover stories nobody wanted to cover. 

On the other side of things, Jack was confused. He had thought after his apologies that everything would be fine? He thought you needed space, so he gave you plenty. But now it seemed like the two of you weren’t even together anymore. 

“Dude, just talk to her” Trevor's voice was somehow still loud over the phone. 

“Yeah but she wants space” Jack sighed, as if Trevor had no idea how girls worked. 

“Okay… and did she tell you that?”

“I can tell” 

Trevor shuffled on the other end of the line. “Okay Jack, listen. You guys have been together what? A year now? You can’t just throw away your whole relationship because she may or may not be a little insecure. Why don't you talk to her? Like actually sit and figure this out” 

For the first time, Jack thought, Trevor was making some sense.

“I want to be with you! Do you want to be with me?” Jack's voice was unintentionally rough and loud as he questioned you. 

“Of course I want to be with you!” your voice is just as loud. 

“Then what's the big deal!” Jack is visibly annoyed as if you're some person that's wasting his time.   

“Well, don’t like other girls' instagram posts and stare at models in public!” you retort, crossing your arms childishly. Jack throws his hands up in the air, sighing loudly. 

“I like you, what don't you understand?” Jack enunciates each word loudly and waves his hands around wildly in some effort to make his point clear.

“Why can't you understand that I just need some reassurance!” you cry out, completely worn out by this conversation. 

“Reassurance? I’m not going to cheat on you! Why do you think so low of me?” Jack pauses, seeming to connect the dots in his head. “Oh. this is about him” Jacks voice turns cold and you feel the oncoming sting in your throat. 

“Just because you’ve been cheated on before doesn’t mean that it's going to happen again.” your cheeks felt wet. Were you crying? 

“I don't think you’re going to cheat on me” you whisper, arms wrapping around yourself in a bad attempt at trying to calm yourself down. 

Jack stands still, staring at you with glaring eyes. 

“I just want… I want…” you can't even finish your sentence. You didn’t know what you wanted. You just felt so bad about yourself. 

Jack stares, nodding his head in exasperation as he watches you cry. “Yeah, well, when you figure that out call me” 

“Jack please,” you call to him through tears, following him down your hallway as you watch him walk away. 

You never called. 

⋆ ★

A month went by, and you felt the breakup in every aspect of your life. Work reminded you of that first day with Jack. Your apartment reminded you of all the times he would walk you home… you missed him. 

“We’re going out tonight! Enough being sad” your coworker, Claudia, exclaimed as she walked into your apartment. She was holding a saks bag, no doubt filled to the brim with outfit options for the night ahead. 

“I’m not feeling it” you mumble, eyes immediately finding focus on your tv screen. 

“It's been a month yn.. If you don't go out now, you're never going to” Claudia's voice is soft. She sets the bag of clothes beside you on the couch, and she silent starts showing you your options. 

“That ones cute” your voice is muffled but Claudia hears you anyway. 

“Perfect!” She smiles, setting your choice to the side and pulling out a plastic bag full of accessories. 

You felt ridiculous. You were wearing heels much too small, and your dress was way too tight. The drinks though… definitely hit the spot. And after a while, you didn’t think of Jack at all. 

“I’m having so  much fun!” your words were slurred as you slung one of your arms around Claudia's shoulder. She smiled happily at you, tipsily swaying your hips so you were both dancing to the beat of the music that was blasting throughout the club. 

“Is that…?” Claudia starts but then abruptly stops, almost as if she had seen a ghost. 

“Is that what!” you shout cheerfully, spinning yourself and Claudia around so that you could see what she saw. 

“Y/n don't!” Claudia tries to reposition you but it is too late. 

In the middle of the dance floor stood Jack Hughes, your Jack Hughes, and some girl that looked oddly familiar. As if sensing your gaze, the girl turned. It was the girl from instagram. 

“I’m going to be sick!” you moaned, hand covering your mouth as Claudia quickly rushes you outside of the club. Luckily, the two of you make it outside rather quickly, and then you're heaving onto the streets of New York. 

“I am so sorry! I had no idea that he’d be here!” Claudia speaks apologetically, holding your hair out of your face as you continue dry heaving. 

“He's with.. Oh my god” you emptied out what must've been everything in your stomach. “Claudia, he's with her!” you cried, drunkenly leaning into your friends side. Claudia grabbed hold of you, walking you down the street so that the two of you could hail a cab. “I know, i’m so sorry”

Once you were situated in the cab, you leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes. You pictured the look on Jack’s face when he saw you. Surprise, then shock, was it regret next? You weren’t sure. Then you imagined the girl he was with. Pretty, and perfect, and you wanted to cry all over again. 

“I'm blocking him!” you slurred, pulling out your phone and heading straight to your contacts. Claudia nodded along, concern etched in every feature on her face. 

Your hand hovers over the block button. “No! I’m deleting him! He's done. I don't ever want to talk to him again!” you cry, ignoring the cab driver's face as he looks on in disapproval.

“Do what will make you feel better hun,” Claudia speaks to you softly, giving you the courage to block and delete Jack from your phone and life. 

⋆ ★

After that night, you were steadily getting sick. You thought nothing of it at first, chalking up all your symptoms to stress and your recent breakup. It wasn’t until you checked your email that your world stopped spinning. 

Amazon: Upcoming Delivery

Hi Yn Ln,

This confirms your purchase from Tampax

Your visa has not been charged yet - we’ll email you when it has been charged.

Thank you for using Amazon Pay.

Your phone fell to the ground with a large thud, and you ran to your kitchen to check your calendar. You flipped through the pages, looking for the little red dots that signified the days that you had gotten your period. You flipped through the months.

February

January

December

You couldn’t think as you stuffed your feet into your ugg boots. You put your jacket on while you half-ran down the stairs, and if it weren’t for the man on the 3rd floor grabbing your arm to steady you, you would've crashed down the remaining flights. 

Your nearest bodega was only one block away, and when you got there a minute later, panting and trying to catch your breath, reality had finally set in. 

Your breathing was laboured and loud as you came to a stop in front of the pregnancy tests. How was this your life? 

You bought one of every kind, and you tried to ignore the burning gaze of the cashier who rang all your items through. 

“That’ll be $65.24” 

It seemed like less than a minute later you were back in your apartment. All of your surroundings blur into nothingness as you pull the tests out of your coat jacket. 

You stumble into your bathroom, slam the door shut behind you, and peel off your leggings. 

You decide to take all the tests at once, leaving only two for backups in case you did something wrong. The last test shook violently in your hand, and only then did you realize that you were crying. 

Positive

Pregnant

+

Two lines

⋆ ★

The first thing you had done when you found out you were pregnant last night was block Jack Hughes. He was the only person you had slept with in the past 3 months, and in your frustration you blamed him. Your relationship was over with, he had moved on, and now you were pregnant? Life was cruel. 

After a long debate, a night full of crying, and an afternoon of rest and relaxation… you decided it was best that you told Jack about the pregnancy. 

You type in Jack's contact: a nickname, two white hearts and a sword emoji that represented something you couldn’t quite recall in your panic induced state. When his nickname showed no results, you hit the backspace button and typed in his full name, which you assumed you might have switched to when you saw him out with another girl. 

No result. 

You dropped your phone into the sink with a loud clatter. 

fuck. 

That night's events replayed in your mind like a bad film. You had blocked and deleted Jack's contact. 

You wipe the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand, breathing in deeply as you reach into the sink and pick up your phone. Everythings fine… you have him on instagram. You can just message him there. 

jackhughes

unblock

Life truly was cruel, you thought, sobs racking your body as you let yourself slide onto your bathroom floor. 

You unblocked Jack, only to find that his follow was removed. 

It's fine… you reassured yourself as you hit the unblock button and started drafting your message. He’ll see it. He has too. 

⋆ ★

You checked to see if he had seen the dm the next evening, and to your surprise, you were blocked.

Tears immediately started blurring your vision and you couldn't help but cry out in pain. 

What the fuck were you going to do.

part two

[metranart]

My one and only wants you, so he’ll have you (Part 10)

ft. Sensei! Gojo Satoru, sensei! Suguru Geto, reader insert, slight! Megumi x reader.

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto happily married, you, their lovely student and the cause of their ragging temptation. The problem: their son, Megumi, your best friend.

𖦹 Warning tags: Gojo x Reader x Geto, threesome, married couple, Suguru and Gojo happy married couple, polyamory, Teacher-Student Relationship.

-

You shook your head, twice, rubbing your hot, red cheek against the sheets of their queen size bed. Satoru's fingers, too long, gently digging into the base of your neck, over the faint row of purple marks at the beginning of your throat, and Suguru watched as you opened your mouth, exhaling a moan that didn't even really come out. A muted choke that sent goosebumps all over his skin. 

“Oh my, how I missed you-” Suguru breathed out, gaze never straying from his husband and the way he was bending, your delicate body in every possible angle. “(Y/N), did you miss us?”

In that moment, your words got stuck in your dry throat when Satoru's cock filled your hole with a single deep thrust, stretching you in one go. You squealed, panting, clenching your fists so tightly that you might as well being trying to hurt yourself, gasping for a breath of hot, humid air. Slowly, rocking to the same rhythm of the thrusting and swaying imposed by your white-haired sensei.

“Of-Of course she missed us, honey. Our p-pup only gets this tight when being craving for our attention,” the prodigy murmured next to your ear, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your left shoulder, “—I can barely move, Suguru.”

Suguru Geto smirked and licked his upper lip, watching Satoru drop his hand to your belly and run his fingers there, along the outline of his own cock marked beneath the quivering muscles. You leaned back, unconsciously fleeing from his touch when his other hand trailed all the way between your joined legs until he reached your swollen, spent and pitiful, folds… quivering pieces of flesh that did its best to keep that gorgeously massive piece of cock inside. 

A mere breeze of air, a mere gush of breath made you shiver all over, due of how sensitive you were, your folds shiny with saliva and cum residues, too exhausted to stop quivering, and Suguru LOVED each second of the show his husband was giving. 

Your small, feisty hands scratched at the white-haired man's skin, pinching the flesh and biting lightly but your weakened form made it a pitiful effort to regain some control.

"I loooooove when she gets like this," Satoru confessed, and his husband agreed with a fond chuckle. "Me too, but right now I prefer her more... docile, so if you don't mind, cutie."

You weakly agreed with your head as best you could, and both smiled lovingly down at you, and then Suguru ripped the hair tie out of your hair, swatting Satoru's hand away and tightening the hair tie around your wrists, leaving your little, hyperactive hands out of the way.

"There we go," he said, adoring the sight of you, all tired smiles and happiness while tied and at their mercy, without a doubt you were theirs. “Sugu, you are a genius.” Satoru praised, still snuggled deep inside you.

Suddenly Suguru's gaze went down, and the depravity of his next act almost made you faint in his husband's arms. Lowering himself down, faced the trickle of translucent liquid escaping your pussy, it was a web of cum, a combination of his and Gojo's. Sliding out of you slowly but steadily with each wicked thrust of Satoru's hips. There was no more room inside you, it was either cum or cock, not both.

Satoru gave him a salacious grin from ear to ear.

“-Want me to make her purr, loud and pretty, just for you, my love?”

Suguru’s lips stretched with perverted pride, and you made a noise, like you were choking, like you couldn't breathe properly, and then Satoru flipped you over, leaving you on your back, throwing both legs over his shoulders and pounding into you so hard that suddenly the only thing you heard was your endless moans, even over his own rapid breathing and Suguru’s constant praise and encouragement for him to go faster. 

You threw your arms up, blindly holding on to the edge of the bed tightly, as if your life depended on it, wrist tied up, it didn’t matter, nothing mattered. Satoru leaned forward into you, biting your mouth and neck and one of your breasts, filling the lone patches of clean skin -where Suguru hadn't leave a hickey- with deep pink marks, the kind that would later turn dark and purple.

Suguru spat into his hand, pumping himself twice before asking.

“(Y/N), could you open your eyes, please?”

His request seemed to take a moment before it hit you.

“-Baby, please… my lo-…love…. (Y/N)… please-”

Something felt odd. He didn't sound like him anymore and his hands didn't feel big and powerful against your skin anymore, your pussy tightened bringing you to an exponentially powerful orgasm, but those tight, gummy walls convulsed around nothing. Your eyes snapped open, and it wasn't Gojo's beautiful blue eyes or Geto's piercing jet black orbs that were staring at you... it was Megumi's prejudiced stare... Megumi-

You slowly began to remember your reality. Megumi, your boyfriend. Megumi, to whom the bed you were sleeping on belonged to. Megumi, who right now looked at you with morbid curiosity—

"Finally awake,” your brand-new boyfriend said, “you were moving and trashing in your sleep, sweetie.” 

Of course you were, the constant throbbing between your legs was no dream, you could feel it even now like a reminder of what you really wanted and WHO your heart truly belonged to.

“What were you dreaming about?" Megumi ended up asking, insistently, something nagging at the back of his mind, urging him to corroborate his place in your subconscious mind. The sorcerer let his hand caress your thigh up and down while he waited for your reply, like a loving boyfriend would do, but also to check his theory. Your skin was, indeed, bristly and sweaty, and his curiosity only grew. "Tell me, you know you can trust me... what were you dreaming about? Something good, no doubt."

The sorcerer smiled playfully but that smile didn't reach his eyes, eyes that no longer could hide a hint of annoyance. Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me…. He chanted internally. I need to know…

"......-(Y/N)?"

A timid grin ghosted your lips, and just once your thoughts had settled, you dared to lie. 

“I-I…actually don’t remember, baby.” 

You had finally shaken off all the sleepiness and could remember why you were there, in Megumi's bed, taking a nap while waiting for Yuji and Nobara to arrive. It was the first group mission in years, everyone was going. Former students and teachers. From Panda to Principal Yaga. They had to cover a lot of ground, so a lot of help was needed.

Megumi looked down at you, his hand never leaving its soft caress on your thigh, but his eyes said something totally different. You're lying, I know. Keeping your heart steady and your expression innocent was starting to weigh on your peace of mind.

Since the day you and Megumi became a couple, the wet dreams began, more and more intense, more and more vivid. At first, were just sporadic images of Gojo and Geto, but soon, were scenes taken from the most pornographic movies. They took you, over and over again, until your eyes fluttered open and you felt the squirting wetness slipping down between your legs, your pajamas soaked in sweat and cheeks burning. Shaky legs and labored breathing. All because of a dream. It was torture, these dreams were almost daily, every time you fell asleep your mind catapulted you back to them.

It was a nightmare to wake up and see Megumi's face light up, know that it was because of you… and have to lie to him. 

"My d-dreams are very sporadic," you disguised the tremble in your voice with a yawn, "... sometimes some nightmares make me move. The worst missions get stuck in my head-"

"You were moaning,” he was emphatic about it. “Like… a lot." A curious eyebrow rose on his forehead and your nervous giggle prompted him to press further. “You were purring so pretty-” 

Megumi made a meaningful pause to watch you closely and noticing the insistent heat on your cheeks, grinned a little more wickedly that he was accustomed to. “-like when we kiss or we…” he lifted two fingers and wiggled them, reminding you of some other intimate stuff his fingers had done to you and you laughed, a coarse laugh that sounded way to fake and anxious. 

“Really?” maybe playing dumb could get you out of the hook. “I-…I…” dammit! Think! “I-… probably….” say anything, just don’t say you were dreaming with both his parents fucking you stupid-… “I-… probably was dreaming… about… you, baby.” You lied, shamelessly, “Dreaming with my Gumi.” 

A derisive snort was heard from the other side of Megumi's bedroom door, and he quickly spring to his feet to yank the door open, poking his head out to find…. an empty hallway.

"Hello?" he called, suspiciously. "Gojo, Suguru?" he called again, but again there was no answer, so he shrugged, giving one last onceover on the area before going back inside with you and locking the door behind. 

The sound of the latch being set and locking you, giving room to a more intimate scenario, frowned the brows of certain nosy special-grade sorcerers who were just too good at hiding.

With discreet steps, emulating a shadowless ninja, they both returned to their initial position with their ears against the wooden door so they could hear better. Suguru threw an irritated look at his husband whose expressive reactions almost got them into trouble, to then put a finger in front of his lips, the white-haired rolled his eyes, pouting, embarrassed. 

“So…” They heard Megumi say, “…. You were dreaming about me, huh?”

"-Who else would I be dreaming about, Gumi?" you were pushing your luck. Suguru and Gojo shared a worried look while waited for Megumi’s verdict. 

Their boy took his time to answer, analyzing you promptly, making you nervous all over but also seizing his chance to make a very smart move. A move that only a man raised by two wolves would come up with. The lips on your handsome boyfriend’s face stretched, far from shy, and without warning drop onto the bed, his head claiming your thighs as his precious pillow to be able to look at you from his new privileged position. 

"So, if I was already in your dreams…” he shared in all his cool calm, “why don't you let me make your dreams come true?"

Three sets of cheeks blasted with heat, two out of anger and one, out of embarrassment. Megumi snickered amused, witnessing first-hand how adorable you looked all flustered, feeling even more proud, him being the cause. On the other side of the door, two older sorcerers were about to lose their minds. 

Gojo's hand was already on the knob without him realizing it, it was only the feeling of his husband's strong grip on his wrist that stopped him from turning it... Geto shook his head, yet Gojo seemed possessed by something visceral inside him... Something jealous and possessive was burning to get out... Geto shook his head again, and their eyes met...

COMING SOON PART 11....

➡️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS STORY

[steddieas-shegoes]

love confessions in line

Another stupid little thing because I’m in the car and bored. It’s not edited or really anything much beyond just putting these boys in love in situations.

Rated t | tags: love confessions, established relationship, robin being so fed up with them

————————

“Why do we have to be here so early? My dinner hasn’t even digested properly yet,” Robin complained.

And, okay. It was cold and there were a lot of people standing in line outside of the only Walmart carrying the very specific guitar amp Eddie wanted. He’d called every Walmart in Indiana. Multiple times.

But he had to go all out for Christmas this year. Eddie had already said he’d gotten Steve something he’ll never outdo, never even believe. Obviously, that meant Steve had to do better than the Metallica hoodie that was stashed in his closet for the last four months.

“It’ll be worth it. There’s hardly anyone in line ahead of us and if we go straight to the electronics in the back—“

“You mean where everyone is going?” Robin interrupted, folding her arms across her chest.

Steve sighed.

“Yeah, well. I’ll run. It’ll be fine. I doubt anyone else here is interested in a guitar amp.”

As if the words ‘guitar amp’ were magic, someone who looked a lot like Eddie walked up to one of the security officers standing by the front doors.

Robin noticed at the same time as him.

“Is that…?”

“It can’t be. He said he was going fishing with Wayne in the morning and didn’t wanna end up stuck in crowds shopping,” Steve said.

But then the man turned back to the line.

“Steve?” Eddie yelled, eyes going wide when he realized Steve and Robin were there.

“Uh.”

“Um.”

“I thought you guys were going to Indy for this!” Eddie smiled as he walked up to them. “I don’t think this store will have what you’re lookin’ for.”

Steve panicked. There’s only one thing Eddie could be here for. He could go anywhere else. He could have stayed in Hawkins for that matter.

“Uh. Just wanted a change of scenery.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed as his smile fell slightly.

“O…kay. Well, I’ve got an amp to buy so I guess we’re all in this together now.”

Steve ignored Robin’s snort and mumbling.

Eddie glanced over at her with a questioning face.

“You two are unbelievable. Truly.”

“What? Why?” Eddie asked, genuinely curious.

His finger traced along the back of Steve’s hand subtly, out of sight of the people behind them in line.

“I.” Steve sighed.

Oh well. Maybe he could just try to get concert tickets the next time Ozzy came to Chicago.

“I was gonna get the amp for you for Christmas. I’ve been planning it for weeks,” Steve said, looking down at the ground.

Eddie was surprisingly quiet.

Absolutely no response.

After a full minute, Steve made eye contact with him.

He had tears building in his eyes and Steve felt himself start to tear up, too.

“You were?” Eddie choked out. “But this is-“

“The only place selling it on sale in the state, yeah.”

Robin was grumbling to herself again, but neither of them were paying attention anymore.

“How did you even know?” Eddie asked after a deep, calming breath.

“You mentioned it last month after a gig. Said you needed a new one anyways and this was top of the line or something. That a lot of the bands you like were switching to this kind for studio recording or whatever because of the…crisp? Sound? And then when no one else was selling it at all, I had to call around the Walmarts to see who had it on sale because $300 is a lot of money, Eds, and I wish I could afford that, but I don’t really have that lying around after paying for school and rent so when this place finally said they’d have it for $100, I made Robin promise to come with me since you’d be busy. And I guess you’re not that busy, but. I needed to do my best to get it.”

Eddie’s smile grew the longer Steve rambled. Robin was already walking away, probably back to Steve’s car, halfway through his speech.

“I love you.”

Steve’s jaw dropped in shock.

They’d been saying it in every way except this way for months, nearly a year, really.

It started as Steve taking care of Eddie when everyone else was busy taking care of the Upside Down.

It kept going as Steve was the one listening to Eddie slowly pick the guitar back up, working through the crying about his fingers not working right or his arm getting tired too quickly.

And then five months ago, Steve kissed him.

Took the plunge and kissed him.

They’d done everything together since. They’d become boyfriends. They came out to their group, together, always together.

And now, in a Walmart parking lot during the busiest shopping day of the year, Eddie was telling Steve he loved him.

“Because of the amp?” Steve asked, hesitant.

Eddie knew what he was really asking.

Because I’m buying you something nice?

“No, sweetheart. Because you listen to me. You know what makes me happy. You’re doing something for me that no one else would have even bothered to try to do.” Eddie laughed. “I have never wanted to kiss you as much as I want to right now.”

“Not even that time I wore a crop top and your boxers?”

Eddie groaned. “That was an outlier. You know how that affected me.”

“Oh, I sure do,” Steve smirked. “Too bad we’re in public.”

“The doors open in an hour right?” Eddie asked, checking his watch.

“Yep.”

“And then you have to take Robin to her parent’s house?”

“Probably should.”

“And then what?” Eddie asked, already knowing exactly what.

“And then I’ll come to the trailer and I’ll walk right to your room and hopefully-“ Steve cut himself off to whisper the next part. “You’ll be naked.”

Eddie’s brows raised. “You want me naked? What about Wayne being home?”

“Wayne’s been sleeping with ear plugs for months now. Can’t hear a thing,” Steve pats Eddie’s blushing cheek. “Said he didn’t need to hear what his nephew got up to.”

“We really should just move my stuff into your new place,” Eddie suggested for the fifth time in as many days.

Steve wasn’t opposed at all.

In fact, he’d planned on asking him to move in once he got more settled.

But.

“Wayne wanted another Christmas with you at home, baby. He won’t say it, but when I brought up you moving in with me, I thought he was actually gonna cry.”

“Yeah, yeah. With this new amp, he’ll change his mind.”

“What makes you think you get this amp before Christmas?” Steve put his hands on his hips.

“Because now I know you’re getting it!”

“Uh-huh. And it’s getting wrapped with your other gift to be opened on Christmas morning. No early gifts on my watch.”

“Steeeeeeve. Please! I could use it at our show next week!”

Steve shook his head. “Your amp works fine. Christmas is only a month from now.”

“You’re getting revenge on me,” Eddie pouted.

“Revenge for what?” Steve snorted.

“You know what.”

Steve did. He felt his cheeks and neck heat up with a blush.

“Fine. Yes. Maybe it’s a little bit revenge.”

Eddie huffed, but didn’t argue further.

“You know I love you, too, right?” Steve whispered.

And Eddie forgot about everything else except the way Steve was looking at him, like he needed Eddie to understand how much he loved him.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I do.”

———————

Three days later, Steve set the amp up in the second bedroom of his rented house.

When Eddie came over, he pushed him into the room and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“You can play it here, but I’m still wrapping it up for Christmas and you aren’t allowed to bring it to shows until after. Okay?”

Eddie was bouncing on his toes and squeezing Steve’s hands so hard he was losing feeling.

“Okay! Thank you, thank you! I love you! Thank you!”

Eddie smacked a kiss on Steve’s cheek before pulling away and running to the amp.

“You need your guitar, honey,” Steve laughed.

“Right!” Eddie ran from the room to grab his guitar from his van.

Steve shook his head, but couldn’t help his fond smile as the front door banged open.

[victoria-daydreams]

The Winner Takes It All||Challengers

AN: So, I finally I got to see Challengers yesterday and boy do I have thoughts that may or may not be weaved into the story, things still might be ooc or wrong. Also, I'm warning y'all now, I know absolutely nothing about tennis/college and partook in half ass research on how the sport functions.

Based this fic off the most gut wrenching ABBA song because it fits so well with the story. I hope you all enjoy this mini series, don't know if I did it justice from translating this from my head onto Tumblr, but we move. And hopefully there aren't any spelling or grammar errors, but if there are, we die like men.

A playlist for this series is coming soon!

Word Count: 3.5k

Trigger Warnings: mentions of colorism and racism

Taglist: @seriousaliysa @hopless-y @malscorner @miximora @urfavesim @mmmunson @jackierose902109 @youngestxhearts @blkdivinefeminine @kailkailz @lottiematthewsceo @lonnie2390147 @begoniaespresso @everydayimagineer @pnkstalli @softimgyu @amethystwonders11 @hazbinh0e @ysuftmikey

I tried to tag everyone who commented, but tumblr is being weird so I don't know if you'll get the notification.

Part One: Sugar & Spice

With her arms folded across her chest, Gianna's eyes were glued to the TV screen in front of her as two male sports analysts began to discuss their pick for match of the day.

"Oh man, this right here was my favorite today!" one analyst stated excitedly.

"For sure! It was the match to watch as the tennis world bore witness to the next up-and-coming tennis star," the other commentator agreed.

The camera cut away from the men and to the highlights of the mixed doubles championship match.

"Out the gate Gianna Langdon, ranked number five in girls singles, set the the tone for the day with a powerful ace to start the match,"

A clip of the opening minute of the match is put on the screen with Gianna throwing the ball high in the air for the first, and perfectly executed serve, followed by her pumping her fist in triumph with a grin.

"From there, she and her partner, Max Sullivan, kept their opponents, Roy Christians and Marie Riviera on the back foot for what seemed like the entire match,"

Gianna studied the way she nimbly moved around on the grass court, her swift volleys, sharp serves, and effortless backhands left no room for doubt that she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Play of the match goes to none other than Gianna Langdon, with this volley to put the nail in the coffin of this championship," the analyst reported, as the final moments of the match popped up on the screen.

With a powerful strike, the tennis ball was slammed back over the net by Roy onto Gianna's side of the court. Roy's hit lifted the ball high into the air forcing Gianna to reposition herself and backpedal to the spot to return it. Leaping up, Gianna smashed the ball down with force, out of reach from both Marie and Roy, the game winning hit. The clip replayed, but only this time in slow motion, so viewers at home could properly admire the athleticism on display. ESPN then did a jump cut of Gianna and Max both dropping their rackets simultaneously before rushing towards each other to embrace. Max even lifted up her a bit, twirling them around as they celebrated their victory.

The camera panned back to the two commentators who were wrapping up their coverage of the tournament.

"Honestly, Gianna Langdon just dominates the tennis field for her age group whether it's single or doubles," the commentator complimented, gathering his papers up in his hands and tapping it against the desk.

Gianna's lips lifted at the praise, its rare she gets her flowers as a tennis player.

"She's a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about that. If she keeps playing like she is now, she can easily break into the top three, but she's no Tashi Duncan," the other commentator corrected.

At this, her smile instantly fell off her face. Since freshman year of high school, Gianna has forever lived under the inescapable shadow of the phenomenal, powerhouse that is Tashi Duncan. Because Tashi wasn't just some athlete, she was the athlete. The next Serena Williams, as some people taken to calling her. Gianna might as well been chopped liver.

The girls have been thick as thieves since Gianna moved to the same school as Tashi and was paired up by their coach to be doubles partners. The duo were unstoppable on the court, as Gianna was a tennis prodigy in her own right, but often was relegated to just being known as Tashi Duncan's partner. A repeated slight which didn't go unnoticed by her two strongest supporters, her parents. They made it their mission to drill Gianna with an unshakable sense of self confidence in not only her skills with a tennis racket, but also her appearance.

"Don't you ever let the media or naysayers play in your face about your talents, Gianna," her father's words echoing in her head. "You already know, you have to work twice as hard to get half the recognition compared to others," he went on.

Gianna recalled the exact day, he gave her this speech. She was probably fifteen and won a match against some Eastern European girl, it was an upset, and boy did everyone make it a point to tell her so. It ranged from backhanded compliments to outright slurs lobbed at her.

"Oh, so when Tashi pulverizes her opponent on the court who's ranked higher than her it's admirable, but when I do it's a problem!" she complained.

"Competing against Tashi, you need to be prepared that narratives are going to be formed and pushed from factors beyond your control," her father warned. "She's lighter, you're darker. She's thin, you have curves. You're both confident, but only one of you is going to be labeled as arrogant," he listed.

"It's a shame we didn't get to see Duncan and Langdon compete together in girls doubles this year," the analyst said, snapping Gianna out her thoughts.

"Agreed, the best girl duo in juniors we've seen in years,"

Images of Gianna and Tashi materialized on the screen, some were from the last two Junior US Open Championships; both of the, proudly beaming and holding their trophies high above their heads and kissing each other's cheek. But, the one picture that stood out the most to Gianna was their cover on Tennis. Both of them had their arms folded and their game faces on with the headline emblazoned below them.

“Sugar & Spice”

~~~x~~~

Rounding the corner of the hallway, the doors where Tashi's party was being held outside came into Gianna's view. Music and the low murmur of voices floated out of the room, bouncing off the walls as she drew closer. From the corner of Gianna's eyes, she caught her reflection in the hallway mirror promoting her to stop. A pair of eyes, identical to color of rich, molasses stared back at her. Carefully, Gianna studied herself in the mirror from every angle. The healthy glow of her golden, deep brown skin made the light dusting of freckles decorating her upper cheeks and nose more prominent.

"She's no Tashi Duncan,"

It only took those four, little words to dampen Gianna's cheery demeanor and leave her brooding since the afternoon.

Lips pursed, she shook her head slightly, "No, no, no," she whispered to herself. "You're still a champion, Gianna. Fuck that ESPN analyst," she said lowly, smoothing out the pale yellow halter dress she wore.

Letting a lopsided grin grow on her lips, Gianna moved away from the mirror and entered into the ballroom where the party was in full swing. She weaved her way through the crowd to find Tashi, but found herself stopping repeatedly to smile and shake hands as people crowded round her to congratulate her on her match. Gianna couldn't help but feel smug. For once, people were basking in her presence and enjoying the chance to meet a future tennis star in person. It boosted Gianna's ego—a pure, bone-deep satisfaction that something in the air was beginning to shift.

She was starting to be seen as a standout player, not just an extension to Tashi.

Thanking her last well wisher, Gianna's eyes met Tashi's who was a few feet from where she stood. A flicker of recognition flittered across her face and she smiled a tiny smile. Tashi was not alone though, two boys were standing in front her and seemed to be having a very lively conversation.

"What's this I see?" Gianna wondered aloud, brushing past one of the boys. "I'm gone for a minute and you're already making new friends without me," she joked, dropping into the empty chair next to Tashi.

Across from her, both boys were slack jawed and unable to tear their eyes away Gianna. Pride simmered in her chest, Gianna already knew that she was beautiful, but it was nice to be reminded of that fact every now and then. Especially, when there's two boys ogling at her looks and treating her like a divine being.

"You boys gonna stop staring and introduce yourselves, or what?" Gianna questioned, her words flavored with a lulling Louisiana drawl and the boys snapped from their stupor.

"Let me, these two seem to be malfunctioning," Tashi cut in, with a smirk.

"They keep on drooling any longer, they'll catch flies," Gianna quipped, her nude colored lips curling upwards.

Tashi motioned to the dark haired boy with sharp features, "This is Patrick Zweig," she introduced, as Gianna's eyes met Patrick's gray ones, holding her stare and grinning widely. Confidence that bordered on cockiness practically radiated off him. "And this is Art Donaldson," Tashi continued, gesturing to the boy next to Patrick.

Art only allowed himself a small, shy, smile when her eyes shifted over to him. Unabashedly, Gianna let her eyes roam over Art's features. Those blond curls, those blue eyes.

God, they're both gorgeous.

Tashi placed her hand on Gianna's knee, "Patrick and Art, this is my best friend—" she started.

"Gianna Langdon," Patrick and Art interjected simultaneously, causing a Cheshire grin to form on Gianna's lips.

"Well, well, my fan club only continues to grow this tournament," Gianna joked, playing with the curly ends of her pick and drop braids.

"Deservedly so, you were absolutely amazing this tournament," Art complimented, a breathy chuckle leaving him.

"That play when you landed a split after playing a return," Patrick mentioned, beaming at her. "And you still got the point, fucking incredible!" he praised, shaking his head.

She smiled, "Oh, so you two have been avidly watching my matches then?" Gianna questioned, playfulness in her voice while slightly leaning forward in her seat.

"Ashamedly, not initially," Art admitted, and Gianna quirked brow. "But after your storybook comeback in Round 4, we knew there was no way we couldn’t stop watching you," he added quickly.

"Singles or doubles," Patrick chimed in.

"Did you by chance watch any of our matches, Gianna?" Art asked timidly, staring at her with hopeful eyes.

She smirked, "Singles or doubles?" Gianna asked back, smoothly echoing Patrick's words.

"Either," Patrick responded, his eyes drinking her in.

They both seemed mesmerized. Leaning in closer, as if they were going to learn her with their close proximity. Gianna hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair and raising a finger to her chin to mull over the question. She glanced over to Tashi, who was already watching her with an amused expression. Embarrassingly, Gianna kind of forgot her best friend was literally sitting next to her, she had become too engrossed in her conversation with the newcomers.

"No, can't say that I have," Gianna answered finally, with a shrug.

Art deflated, his face falling as the tips of his ears went fiery red, while Patrick's shoulders sagged a little.

"O-Oh," Art breathed.

There was a silence. Gianna looked off to her side again to see a ghost of a grin threatening to appear on Tashi's face. When the two girls' eyes connected with each other, they burst out laughing at the same time. Both boys looked at each other wordlessly, both speechless by this.

"Gia's just fucking with you two," Tashi explained, in between laughter.

Relief couldn't have been written across their faces more clearly.

"Yeah, I actually watched your championship match while I was in the recovery room," Gianna informed, her giggles subsiding. "Your between the legs shot was very inspired, Patrick," she remarked, with a smile.

At this, Patrick puffed out his chest a bit.

"You know, they're playing against each other tomorrow in the boys singles championship match," Tashi mentioned, her eyes bouncing between the boys.

"Are they now?" Gianna responded, an intrigued smirk gracing her face while crossing one leg over the other.

"We are!" Art blurted out, almost too eagerly.

"You both should come and watch," Patrick suggested.

Gianna cocked her head to the side, "Hmm, maybe," she answered, having a little fun toying with them.

Tashi rose from her chair, reaching her hand out for Gianna's.

"Come on, my dad is waving me over to come take pictures," Tashi informed.

"This is a group activity?" Gianna questioned, her brows furrowing.

"No, but the demand for Gianna Langdon is ever growing," she reminded, her eyes filled with mirth.

"It sure is," Gianna agreed, taking her hand as her friend helped her to her feet. Gianna looked over to Patrick and Art. "Well, ciao. It was nice meeting y'all," Gianna said, waving goodbye as Tashi led her away.

"Goodbye?" Patrick jokingly scoffed. "We'll be here all night!" he called out after her.

~~~x~~~

True to their word, Patrick and Art were in the same spot where Gianna and Tashi had left them earlier and they were more than willing to continue hanging out with the girls. Which is how the group of four found themselves on the beach, slowly treading along the sand, the dark blue sky and millions of stars above them. Naturally, Tashi had found herself in the middle of the group with Patrick flanking on her left and Art on her right.

Gianna was next to Art and as they walked, their arms would accidentally brush against each other every now and then. Both of them exchanging shy smiles at the fleeting contact that sent butterflies fluttering in Gianna's stomach. She secretly relished the contact from Art, he radiated warmth similar to that of a dryer-warm blanket; a nice contrast to the cool sand between her toes.

"You know earlier, Tashi asked us who was fire and who was ice," Patrick spoke, looking over to Gianna. "I figured I should return the favor, between the two of you, who's sugar and who's spice?" he asked, his eyes bouncing from Tashi to her.

"Tashi, is definitely 'spice'," Gianna answered, and Tashi rolled her eyes with a smile. "She's more fiery than me and has a more aggressive play style than I do," she explained.

"Making you 'sugar', of course," Art reasoned, the two staring at one another. "You are the perfect mix of deadly grace and effortless balance on the court," he described, going in an almost dreamlike trance.

"Why, thank you Art," Gianna said, bumping her arm into his.

"If Tashi is 'spice' and your 'sugar', why does the media switch it around?" Patrick wondered.

"Preconceived notions, methinks," Gianna replied, simply shrugging her shoulders.

They wandered along until they settled on a spot to hang out at. Art and Patrick both sat in deck chairs while Tashi and Gianna perched themselves on a large rock. Conversation flowed between all them on a myriad of topics ranging from college, life in general, and of course tennis.

"So Gianna," Patrick began, a small curious and mischievous glint in his eyes. "Your doubles partner Bryce—"

"It's Max," Gianna corrected flatly, with a laugh.

He smirked, "I was in the ballpark," Patrick argued, throwing his hands up. "Anyways, you and Max, you two a thing?" he asked curiously, before taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Eww, no!" Tashi exclaimed, her nose twisting in disgust. "You think Gia has such low standards?" she asked back, clearly offended on Gianna's behalf.

"Tashi, come on, Max is not that bad of a person," Gianna stated, lifting her hand up to tell her to calm down.

"Honestly, I don't know how she does it," Tashi went on. "It's a miracle she can still walk after carrying Max through this entire tournament," she sneered.

"Look, Max is not someone who I would consider as an ideal mixed doubles partner," Gianna conceded, her gaze meeting everyone's. "He's mediocre actually," she said bluntly, making Patrick and Art both snicker. "However, Max as an individual and not as an athlete, he's a wonderful guy," she said, with a slight shrug. "Us dating has never once crossed my mind," she finished, waving her hand dismissively.

"So it sounds like you'll be in need of a new partner soon," Patrick hinted, a hunger in his stare.

"Hmm, I guess I will," Gianna agreed, letting a coy smile grow on her lips. "You know anybody?" she asked, tilting her head a little.

"I can think of two people off the top of my head," Art responded, taking a drag of his own cigarette and blowing it out slowly.

"Oh, is that so? And who just—" Gianna started.

Suddenly, Gianna's phone began noisily vibrating in her lap, putting an end to the playful between the boys and Gianna. She picked up her phone and flipped it open before exhaling heavily, it was her dad texting her.

"Shit, fun's over guys," Gianna announced, with another sigh. "My dad wants me back in my room," she explained, unfolding her legs.

"Your won a championship today, and you're father won't let you stay up late to celebrate?" Patrick asked in disbelief, leaning forward in his chair.

"Obviously, you don't know my father if you think a single championship win is going to get him to loosen his reins on his regimented schedule for me," Gianna stated, grabbing her sandals and letting them dangle from her fingers.

"You're about to be off to Stanford, it's insane your dad is giving you a curfew," Art chimed in.

"Well, I'm not at Stanford yet," Gianna pointed out. "And also..." she trailed off, turning to Tashi who had a knowing look on her face. "His roof, his rules," they both said in unison, after hearing those words countlessly over the years.

Finally standing up from the rock, the boys followed suit. Both of their gazes traveled the length of Gianna yet again, as if they needed to commit her to memory.

"I can walk you back to the ferry and to your hotel," Art offered kindly.

"We both could," Patrick volunteered.

"As much as I am flattered that both of you want to walk me back, I can manage just fine," Gianna assured. "Plus, we're all going to be playing an unwanted game of 21 questions if my dad sees two, random white boys walking me to my room," she remarked, with a chuckle.

Tashi pushed herself up onto her feet, "I'll come with you, Gia,"

"No, no stay, Tashi," Gianna encouraged. "Don't end the fun on my account," she insisted. "Another time will come about for all of us to hang out again, right?" she questioned.

A toothy grin broke out on Patrick's face, "There's gonna be another time?" he asked

"I don't see why not," she answered, mirroring his expression. "The three of us are going to be at Stanford together, and I'm sure you come visit from time to time. It all works out so well!" Gianna said excitedly.

Art opened his mouth to speak, but the shrill ringing of Gianna's phone silenced him. Looking down at the phone, she grimaced slightly.

"Shit, I really have to go, my dad is calling now," Gianna stressed.

"Then get going," Tashi prompted, playfully swatting her bottom.

A surprised whoop escaped Gianna's lips before morphing into a giggle as she began to half-walk, half-jog away from the group. She spun around to face them, continuing to walk backwards.

"This was really fun y'all, we should do this again, yeah?" she yelled.

"I look forward to it!" Art yelled back.

"Me too!" Patrick shouted.

Laughing, Gianna spun around and jogged away, all too aware of the three pair of eyes boring into her back.

~~~x~~~

Propped up against the hotel bed headboard, Gianna was tucked underneath the blankets with a well-worn copy of Baking with Julia in her hands. If tennis was her first love, then baking was her second. There was nothing more relaxing than to Gianna than being able to slow down and just allowing herself to focus on precision, without any of the heightened stakes that came with tennis. Not to mention, beating eggs or whisking a cake were great ways to rid herself of any frustration she may be feeling.

A series of rhythmic knocks on her door pulled Gianna from her musings. She didn't even have to ask who it was, she could tell by the pattern of the familiar knock.

"Just use the card I gave you, Tashi," Gianna called, her voice just loud enough for her to hear.

There's a quiet click of the door unlocking before the door opened a crack and Tashi's head popped into her room, a shit eating grin on her face.

"Hurry up and get in here, before my dad sees!" Gianna ordered, with a laugh.

Closing the door behind her, Tashi pranced over to Gianna and sat beside her on the floor on the edge of her bed.

"Tell me everything! What happened after I left?" Gianna asked, a smile of her own on her face.

"They invited me to come up to their room,"

"And you went?"

"I did," Tashi answered, a smirk on her lips.

Gianna landed a playful hit on Tashi's arm, "No fucking way!" she whispered, her eyes wide. "You hooked up with both of them?"

"I didn't sleep with them," Tashi corrected. "We only made out, and then they made out," she added, smirking proudly.

Gianna raised an eyebrow, "They made out? Patrick and Art?" she questioned.

"Yep," Tashi grinned.

"On their own or did they have some help?" Gianna asked, arching a brow.

Wordlessly, Tashi plucked Gianna's book from her hands and she straddled her, resting each leg on either side of Gianna.

"They did most of the heavy lifting, I just gave them the push they needed," Tashi explained, looping her arms around her friend's neck.

"Now, I'm a little jealous. I missed out on all the fun," Gianna complained, sticking out her lower lip in a mock pout.

"Gia babe, don't worry, I did not forget about you," Tashi reassured, as Gianna hands came to rest on Tashi's thighs. "Remember their match tomorrow?" she reminded.

"Yeah,"

"Winner gets my number…." Tashi trailed off, removing her right arm from around Gianna's neck. "And yours," she finished, lightly tapping the tip of her nose.

A slow smile spread across Gianna's lips as Tashi's words sunk in. She knew exactly what her friend was up to, especially if it meant Tashi could watch some "real fuckin' tennis".

"Tashi Duncan, the girl that you are," Gianna praised, letting out a chuckle.

Leaning forward, Gianna planted a soft kiss on Tashi's lips. It was only meant to be a quick peck, but as Gianna went to pull away, Tashi held her face, keeping their lips connected.

Tashi withdrew herself from Gianna, "Tomorrow is gonna be so fucking good," she grinned, her eyes twinkling at the thought. "And guess what is the best part about all of this, Gia?" she questioned, their forehead resting against each others.

"What?'

"We already have them wrapped our fingers, without even trying," Tashi answered, sending the girls into a fit of giggles.

Part II: Maneaters

[stsgluver]

synopsis. gojo satoru always wins.

wc. 880

tags. gojo x reader, fluff, spoilers for 236, possible spelling mistakes I have not proofread this (do I ever?)

a/n. currently clearing out all my old wips. i've already written this in a different version I think but idc bc if i write about him coming home enough times he will eventually do it. my next few works are probs going to be my rich boy!gojo drafts

there was a brief moment when the world stilled. the air was squeezed from your lungs as everything around you slowly began to spin and you weren’t sure the last time you had slept – had it been that long that the hallucinations were finally starting to kick in?

“oh my god.” those were the only words you could utter in your state of disbelief. you couldn’t close your eyes: you couldn’t risk him disappearing. if you were brave enough, you’d reach out to trace the new scars carved into his porcelain skin.

“you can’t say that, you know how my ego is,” gojo looked as gorgeous as ever, arm raised as he leant against the doorframe of his apartment. the same apartment you’d set up camp in nineteen days ago and had only left when yuuji brought you some food. you’d lost too much to process and you were a shell of the person gojo had kissed goodbye to before he left for shibuya. there were deep purple bags under your eyes, your hair was loosely tied back in a messy bun that probably hadn’t been properly washed or brushed in several days and your clothes were probably just gojo’s – you’d been desperate for some sense of familiarity. 

he looked like he hadn’t just been sealed away in another realm. the only evidence of a struggle were his new scars that seemed to decorate every inch of available skin, beyond that he looked excited to be alive, his fitted clothes clinging to him. his cursed energy was terrifyingly immense and you knew him well enough to know he was still riding off of a high that came with fighting for him. 

you were scared to ask who had been the opponent – never would the world’s strongest sorcerer be injured and not cause equal amounts of harm in return. he had a title to uphold after all, something to prove.

“not even a hello?” he shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he tsked you. he was so casual in his mannerisms, playing it all off as though he hadn’t spent what felt like an eternity counting down the seconds so that he could see you again. “you can’t have forgotten me that quickly.” he was practically whining now, desperate for the love and warmth you gave him but not daring to cross the threshold and smother you. 

you weren’t a sorcerer and though you understood some of his world, there was so much more that you didn’t. gojo would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared that one day it would be too overwhelming for you and you’d leave him like everyone else had. 

so he did what he did best: masked his insecurities with a sarcastic humour that held no bite: “don’t tell me there’s another man in the house.”

you smiled, and blinked, and you were suddenly here again; in the moment with him and not a thousand miles away wondering what the hell he’d been through. a lone tear slipped down your cheek and gojo ached to wipe it away.

“are you… are you real?” your voice was still shaky and if it wasn’t for the complete silence, you doubted that he would’ve been able to hear you. 

but he did, and then his arm is up against the doorframe again and he was gesturing to his physique as he complimented himself, “super powerful, mega rich and dashingly handsome? i know how perfect i may seem but i’m very real.” he winked and suddenly it was like you remembered that you have free will, practically jumping into his arms.

gojo wasn’t phased as he tucked you tightly into his body, his cursed technique completely dropped for the first time in what felt like forever. his body breathed a sigh of relief as his muscles ached.

“you’re such a jackass,” you lifted up your head to rest against his chest, eyes shining with tears that didn't fall.

gojo nodded slowly, brushing back the loose strands of your hair as he stared at you adoringly, “you love me.”

“mhmm,” you hummed, taking a step back from his longing arms to look up at him through your lashes. “y’know,” you traced a finger across the material on his chest, “you could make it up to me by closing your eyes.” his breath hitched ever so slightly under your touch. you leant in so that your lips almost touched his ear, “i need to kick my boytoy out. things could get kinda awkward if you two saw each other.”

it would be easier to list the things gojo wouldn’t do for you. he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, even going as far as to hold a hand over them. “how pretty is he on a scale of 1-10?”

there was a pause before you responded, as you took in every inch of the man that stood before you. a god in a mortal’s body. one that lived and breathed and worshipped you. “he’s gorgeous,” you whispered, breathless simply from his existence alone. and then he’s smiling and laughing and picking you up, spinning you in a circle and telling you how much he loves you and for a few brief seconds he’s just satoru and you’re just his.

[laurenairay]

Halloween pranks - S. Jarvis

Summary: helping Seth Jarvis pull off a jump scare prank on the team was worth more than you could ever imagine.

The first of my Autumn & Halloween blurbs! There was no-one else I wanted to write this one for either – Jarvy was perfect. Inspired by the Justin Williams scare prank of 2018.

Word Count: 1.1k words

Tagging: @starshine-hockey-girl, @misshoneyimhome, @lam-ila, @kurlyteuvo, @tonyspep

@cixrosie

~

“Are the cameras all set up?”

“Yes Jarvy.”

“And no-one’s let anything slip?”

“No Jarvy.”

“This isn’t going to be a stupid failure?”

You smiled fondly at the man standing next to you, and shook your head. “No, it’s going to go well, I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

The hesitance in his voice made you look at him properly, and your heart broke a little at the uncertainty in his face. It felt so unnatural on someone like Seth, who was usually so full of confidence and charisma, and the last thing you wanted was for him to feel this way when he’d put in so much effort.

Right at the beginning of the season, on media day, Seth had asked the social media team if he could do a jump scare prank on the team for Halloween. As the new intern, it had fallen to you to help him plan and co-ordinate, and you’d felt yourself growing inexplicably fond of the cheerful ball of energy. Today was going to be a hit, not just for the team but also for your place on it, but the most important thing was that Seth had fun. That’s all your truly wanted.

So for him to be doubting himself like this? You couldn’t stand it.

“I feel it in my bones, Jarvy. Really. This is going to be so much fun,” you said, as reassuring as you could.

He let out a shaky breath but nodded, your words seeming to steel him.

“Yeah, you’re right. We’ve put in way too much hard work planning this for it not to go well. Right? Yeah, it will. I can’t wait to see the guys’ faces.”

“That’s the spirit,” you grinned.

The way he grinned back at you made your stomach fill with traitorous butterflies, and it was all you could do to look away to compose yourself. You missed the way he grinned widened ever so slightly.

“Heads up, Aho and Teräväinen have just pulled in!”

Oh damn, go time.

“Ready?” you asked.

“Let’s do this,” Seth nodded, eyes glittering with mischief.

You walked over to your hiding spot behind a 7ft banner tucked into a corner, ipad open to the feeds from all the cameras you’d set up and clicked record. Seth looked over to you for confirmation and you gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He just cackled and picked up the rubber clown mask he’d chosen to wear, pulling it over his head, and grabbed the fake chainsaw he’d somehow procured, and carefully climbed into the laundry basket you’d placed in the players entrance lobby.

The cameras would capture three different angles, and you could only hope for the golden content that this would hopefully produce for your first big assignment on the team. You tried to control your smile at the sound of footsteps, taking a quick glance down at the ipad for confirmation before looking back up properly to watch the prank unfold.

It was go time.

Sebastian and Teuvo came strolling in, calm as anything, and it wasn’t until they were right next to the laundry basket that Seth jumped up with an unholy roar, waving the plastic chainsaw in the air. Both of his teammates shrieked louder than you ever thought possible, Seth immediately cracking up and leaning backwards against the wall.

“You’re a dead man Jarvy!”

Of course they knew it was him. Who else would it be?

“That was so good right? Did we get everything?”

You popped your head out from behind the banner hiding you, waving at Sebastian and Teuvo, who just groaned as you nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah it was perfect, Jarvy. You were great.”

“Fuck yeah!”

You just giggled as his enthusiasm, glancing down at your ipad to wait for more cars to pull in.

KK and Neci were next – both Jesperi and Martin jumped, Martin almost losing his coffee and Jesperi dropping his phone.

After that came Svech and Pyotr – Andrei shouted and stumbled right into Pyotr, nearly knocking him over, a chorus of curse words coming from both of them.

Staalsy was next – you almost felt bad when Jordan tripped over his own feet and had to brace himself on the wall, but Seth’s delighted laughter was worth it.

Finally, with just enough time before Seth needed to head to practice himself, Freddie walked in. And as Seth jumped up with the loudest roar of all, the goalie didn’t even flinch. He just kept walking in a straight line past Seth like he wasn’t even there, making Seth burst out in laughter as he took his mask off.

“Goalies, man. Can’t get them all,” he grinned.

What a perfect ending. You stopped the recording on your ipad, making sure the video files were stored, before walking out from your hiding place. The grin on Seth’s face was worth the ache in your feet from standing still in one spot for so long, and he eagerly jogged over to your side.

“That was so much fun! Thank you!”

He threw his arms around you in a hug before you could respond, making you squeal with laughter as he spun you round in a circle.

“You’re welcome, you mad man,” you giggled when he set you back on your feet.

“How long will it take you to edit all the footage, do you think?” he asked, grinning.

“Hm, maybe a week? And then I have to get my boss to approve it all, make sure I’ve got all the stuff in it that I need to, including that little intro clip we filmed the other day, and then it’s just got to wait until Halloween week to go out on socials,” you explained.

“Can you send me the links as soon as they go out?”

“What?”

“Like, if I give you my phone number, can you send them to me?” he asked hopefully.

He wanted your phone number?

No, it was for work, purely professional.

“Of course, here, let me…”

You dug your phone out of your back pocket and opened up the new contact page, passing it over to Seth. He quickly typed in his number before handing the phone back, and you couldn’t help but smile at the hockey stick emoji and clown emoji he put next to his name. As if you wouldn’t know who he was in your phone.

“And, you know, if you have anything else you need my help with then you can text me too. For socials,” he said, rushing the last two words.

There was a shyness in his tone that took you by surprise.

Oh.

Oh.

“If you have any other ideas you want to run past me, then you can text me too. You know, for socials,” you said, smiling innocently.

He looked a little stunned for a second before his hopeful smile slid into something a little sharper.

“I’m sure I can work something out.”

Be still your beating heart.

“Talk to you later?” you grinned.

“Count on it.”

[vodika-vibes]

hi again!! i figured since your follower event is almost over i’d request one more thing from you! i was thinking topaz with wrecker please during the early morning like breakfast time if that makes sense?

the reader is kinda like the opposite personality to wrecker (not like totally mean but like they’re quiet and can come off as intimidating to most people), but wrecker is the only one who can make the reader smile and laugh and stuff like that. and can you please make the reader gender neutral?

Syrupy Kisses

Summary: You’re not much of a breakfast person, the most you do is have some caf as you start your day, but Wrecker is.

Pairing: TBB Wrecker x GN!Reader

Word Count: 616

Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Warnings: One suggestive comment

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thank you for your request! I hope this is close to what you wanted. I personally don't like eating breakfast, something I learned from my mom, so the reader is the same way.

“Morning, Mesh’la!” Wrecker says from where he’s digging around the cabinets as you enter the kitchen. “I didn’t wake ya, did I?”

You shake your head, and then, realizing that he can’t see you, you add, “No, you didn’t. No need to worry, Wreck.”

He turns and beams at you over his shoulder, “Good! I’m making breakfast. Want some?”

“Just some caf, Wrecker. There’s no need to go through all that trouble for me.” You reply as you step around the table and slide your arms around his waist.

“It’s no trouble. I’m happy to do it.” He carefully turns in your arms and rests his strong arms on your shoulders, “I’m making waffles,” He tempts, “With chocolate chips.”

“Mm, tempting, but I’ll stick with the caf.”

His hands drop to your waist, and he effortlessly lifts you to sit you on the counter next to where he’s working, “You’re gonna waste away, mesh’la.”

“With as much as you feed me, I highly doubt that.” You lean against the wall and watch him pour you a mug of caf, and prepare it like you prefer, and then he presses it into your hands.

“One caf,”

You gratefully take the mug and set it next to you, before you reach out and lightly press your hand against his cheek, “You’re too sweet to me, Wrecker.”

He leans his hip against the counter, and leans into your touch, “Well now, I’m sure that’s not possible.” Wrecker replies in a quiet rumble. 

You laugh softly, “I got a comm from my sister last night, after you fell asleep.”

“Oh? What’d she say?” He asks as he taps the inside of your knee to make space for him between your legs.

“That it’s not nice of me to intimidate someone as kind as you into dating me.” You reply blandly.

Wrecker laughs, his forehead falling to rest on your shoulder, “Intimidating? Oh, mesh’la, you’re quiet sure. But not intimidating in the least.” He pulls back and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Omega is more intimidating than you.”

Your lips curl up into a smile as you press your free hand against his chest, “I’m not sure how I feel about being deemed less intimidating than a thirteen year old girl, but-”

He laughs again, and this time leans in to kiss you properly. 

Like everything else in his life, Wrecker kisses with an enthusiasm that would be overwhelming if you weren’t able to match it. “I think your sister just doesn’t know you well, mesh’la.”

“She’s always thought I was a bit scary.” You admit.

“Quiet. Not scary.” Wrecker kisses you again and again. “I don’t think you’re scary in the slightest. I think you’re perfect. My perfect mesh’la.”

Your face heats, and Wrecker grins at you. “I’m hardly-”

“Mm, the most perfect. When you kiss me. When you cuddle with me. When you do that thing with your tongue that I really like-”

You press your hand over his mouth, your face burning a little hotter, “I thought this was breakfast hours, not praise me until I can’t function hours.” You say.

He kisses the palm of  your hand, “I can do both. I’m a very talented man. And you deserve all of the praise.”

“Please don’t.”

He chuckles and kisses you one more time, “I’ll stop, but only because I love you and because you said please.”

“I love you too,” You whisper, “And, thank you.”

He winks at you and kisses you one more time, before he finally pulls back to start making breakfast properly. And you can’t help but think that you want this forever. Or as long as he’ll have you.

[tj-dragonblade]

[Connect 4 FIC] Weekend Arts and Crafts

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 1615 Tags: human AU, fluff, arts and crafts, crossover

Notes: For the @sandman-connect4 prompt Weave which is not the final space I needed but shh, I'll work on that next. This is in the Umbrella Boys universe, somewhere post-first-kiss but still early-ish in their relationship, and guest stars Gale from BG3. If you haven't read the rest of the Umbrella Boys, this can be read as stand-alone; all you need to know is that sharing an umbrella is their dating tradition, whether or not it's even raining.

Summary: Hob and Dream go on a date; Dream gets to meet one of Hob's friends

On AO3

"This class is taught by a colleague of yours?"

"Colleague and a friend, yeah." Hob scratches his chin, tilting the phone away so the sound of his nails through his stubble doesn't carry directly into the speaker. "He teaches astronomy here on campus, but he does some artsy classes at the community center. They're having an observer in to evaluate if the program is worth continued funding, and he'd like the class as full as possible to help with appearances." He spins his chair around, leaning back. "Thought it might make a nice date?"

"Will we be doing pottery? Painting?" Dream's voice comes through the phone, cautious but interested.

"Basket weaving, actually."

"Oh?" There's a little more interest, now, if Hob's not mistaken. Excellent. "I have never tried basket weaving, but I believe I might like to."

Silently, unseen, Hob pumps his fist. "Great! It's Saturday at one-thirty; we could meet up for lunch first if you like?"

"That sounds perfect." He can hear the little smile Dream is wearing. "Text me the details later; I know your next class begins shortly so I will not keep you."

"Thanks, dove. Talk to you later?"

"Of course."

Hob thumbs the 'end call' button, grinning happily. They've been properly dating for a little while now but every time he comes up with something new they can do that catches Dream's interest, it always makes him just a little giddy.

~

It's barely raining when they leave the cafe on Saturday; it's the sort of rain most Londoners wouldn't bother about an umbrella for, but they have a tradition to uphold. Dream tucks up close against Hob's side and Hob's umbrella covers them both as they stroll leisurely along the streets. Dream is uncertain where precisely the community center might be, and has no qualms in letting Hob lead.

"Your friend is a professor of astronomy, you said?"

"Gale? Yep. Been at UCL near as long as I have."

"How did he come to be teaching art and craft courses?"

Hob chuckles. "Ah, that's a question you'll have to ask him, and I'm sure he'll tell you if you do. Loves to share a good story, he does."

"A storyteller also?" Dream is hopeful that he will get on with this Gale; he would like to mesh well with Hob's friends.

"Oh yes. Especially if they're stories about himself."

Dream's optimism deflates a little. Something of it must transfer through his body language where he's pressed to Hob's side, because Hob laughs lightly. "Don't worry, he's not as obnoxious as I make him sound. A character, without a doubt, but a good bloke. I'm sure you'll like him and if you don't, we can always make an early escape."

"I trust your judgment." And he does; every date he's had with Hob so far has been a net positive and he is certain this will be the same.

They arrive at the community center precisely on time and Hob folds the umbrella away, shaking the dampness out of it first. There are several people there already, once they go inside and find the correct room; Dream is pleased to see that there are still open spaces available so he and Hob need not necessarily be squeezed in close to strangers.

"Greetings!" The man who speaks from the front of the room is remarkably attractive, longish hair half-gathered in a partial up-do, well-trimmed beard, warm smile and sparkling eyes, a dangling silver earring; he wears a deep purple button-down open well past his throat and tucked into tight jeans, a brown leather waistcoat unfastened over it. His shirtsleeves are rolled back to expose hairy forearms that are more toned than one might expect of an academic. His entire physique fills out his clothing in a way that suggests he does not spend any more time behind a desk than absolutely necessary, and Dream is already cataloguing every detail, suggestions of possible characters for future stories taking shape in his head.

The man's smile is broad and brilliant as he addresses the room. "I'm delighted to see so many new faces this afternoon! I? Am Professor Dekarios, of UCL—in my day job, at least. But this is not my day job, and you can call me Gale." He finishes his grandiose introduction with a flourish, face animated as he speaks. "Today, I shall be teaching all of you the wonderful and mysterious secrets of The Weave." He gestures broadly with his hands as he says it, enunciating such that the capitalization is unmistakable, and Dream wonders if perhaps his true passion was theatre before either astronomy or basketry.

He keeps wondering as Gale launches into explanation of the materials they'll be using and the basic components and terminology of this particular style of basket weaving. The man has a gift for speaking, animated in his instructional approach and extremely personable. He's dropped at least one cleverly-terrible pun so far and Dream can see, easily, why this man and Hob get on so well. He can imagine, as he follows instructions and sees a basket beginning to take shape beneath his hands, how charismatic Gale must be in the lecture hall with a captive audience.

They are halfway through the scheduled time, he and Hob chatting amiably over their growing baskets (Dream's is growing faster than Hob's), when Gale stops by in his rounds to see their progress.

"Hob, my friend! You made it!" His eyes turn to Dream, bright with interest. "And you have brought a companion!" He sweeps his gaze down Dream's body and back up, quick but unmistakable.

"'Course I made it, and yeah I thought it'd be a fun date." Hob puts the slightest emphasis on 'date' and Dream watches understanding flicker in Gale's face, flirtatious interest turning to ordinary charm in half a second. It's a fascinating shift. "Gale, this is Dream."

"Ahh, this is Dream!" A different sort of interest lights Gale's eyes, and his smile grows somehow warmer. "Hob has told me a great deal about you. It is a pleasure to meet you." Hob is fidgeting a little awkwardly but Gale pays him no heed, clasping Dream's offered hand and half-bowing over it in a courtly fashion. Dream is charmed despite himself.

"Likewise."

Gale smiles, broad and disarming. "And a pleasure to have you here today; thank you for coming! I can see you're already showing great talent with The Weave." He's released Dream's hand, turned his attention to the half-woven creation in front of Dream.

"It's very intuitive," Dream allows, picking up his in-progress basket to continue. "I am enjoying the process, and I believe I might like to do this again. Its almost meditative, and surely more practice will yield finer results."

"Ahh, indeed, for once you have tasted the magic of The Weave, you must return again and again in the attempt to master it."

Gale says this with the gravity and conviction of the wise old magician in a b-grade film, complete with a single wagging finger, and Dream feels his eyebrows lifting in bemusement. "I'm curious; why do you refer to basket weaving in that way?"

Gale chuckles, a little sheepishly. "I like to lend the craft an air of wonder and mysticism," he says, and Dream gets the sense that he's suddenly seeing a more straightforward glimpse of the man. "This is far from the most popular class on offer, after all. It's my hope that I can make the experience both fun and memorable for those who do sign up. Then, perhaps, they will recommend the class to others—or even return themselves."

"Well you're doing a marvelous job, in my opinion," Hob offers. "This is a lot of fun actually, and you've made it entertaining and easy to follow."

Gale glances between Hob's basket-in-progress and Dream's, which looks far closer to being a basket than Hob's does, and lifts an eyebrow with a smirk. "Easier for some of us than for others, perhaps."

"Hey now," Hob objects half-heartedly, while Dream ducks his head to hide his smile. "Some of us have talents that lie in different directions, is all."

"So long as you are enjoying the experience," Gale says with a grin, turning to move along to the next batch of students.

"Very much, yes," Hob replies, and Dream nods assent.

"I'm delighted to have you both here." Gale pats their table approvingly as he departs.

Dream ultimately finishes his basket before Hob, and spends the remainder of the class time assisting Hob with his—once Hob has admitted that the help would be appreciated, of course. When the allotted hours are up, they pack away their finished projects to survive the trip home and bid Gale farewell before heading out into drizzly late-afternoon London, Hob's umbrella keeping the worst of it off them both.

"It was lovely to meet your friend," Dream says, and means it.

Hob chuckles. "I'm glad."

"And to learn that you speak of me at length to your colleagues."

"I. Well." Hob shrugs a little awkwardly. "I do tend to be a bit chatty, and I've had a lot of fun on our dates so naturally you come up in conversation at work. I'm glad you don't mind."

"It's flattering, truly."

Hob shifts his grip on the umbrella. "I hope Gale wasn't too much?"

"Not at all." Dream snuggles closer against Hob's arm. "A character, as you said, but ultimately a charming one. In fact, I am definitely putting him in my next book."

Hob laughs, long and loud, and Dream smiles softly as they stroll on through the misty rain toward the bus stop that will see them home.

= Started: 11/10/24 Drafted: 11/18/24 Posted: 11/21/24

This is where I admit that I have never played BG3 or any DnD and all my knowledge is via friends and dashboard osmosis. But if you know even less than me and the joke didn't land: Gale is a wizard in his own canon and The Weave is the main magical force he manipulates in spell casting. This was the first thing that came to mind for the prompt and it insisted on being written. Hopefully it is at least worth a chuckle.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮 : [How To Trust]

Everyday brings new challenges, new miracles, and new faces into his life. And yours, he decides, shouldn't look so scared all the time.

Tags/Warnings: Hospital/Medical AU, Doctor!Jungkook, slightly aged up!Jungkook, Doctor!Yoongi, Nurse!Jimin, Doctor!Namjoon, Surgeon!Hoseok, mentions of Anaesthetist!Taehyung, blood, medical terms, hospital stuff come on this is a medical au, mentions of panic, mentions of vomiting but not descriptive, mentions of suspected abuse, mentions of actual abuse (mental/physical)

Length: 4.4k words

THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC!

A/N: Please do not come for my throat if some stuff doesn't make sense. I've tried hard, but I'm not a doctor, and so none of this should be taken too seriously. Treat it like a medical drama. Those ain't real either haha also how big do I have to make the warning that there's no taglist for people to realize there is no taglist

-> Masterlist

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"Do you have a girlfriend, young man?" The elderly hybrid giggles, her owner and husband on a chair sitting close to her bed shaking his head as Jungkook chuckles himself, adjusting the drip for her medication.

"I do not, Miss Yong." He informs her. "With a job like mine, it's a bit difficult." He explains, shrugging. He's got to talk a bit louder so she can hear him properly, but he's positively surprised by her otherwise overall good health. She's way past the typical age where Hybrids are known to decline, after all. A little bit of hearing loss is nothing compared to what he usually sees in hybrids her age.

"Oh that's such a shame." She whines to her husband at her side. "He's such a handsome friend, isn't he? You must go on dates, at least!" She whispers at him, but he just laughs.

"I'm sorry, she can be nosy." Her husband apologizes for her, though Jungkook simply shakes his head.

"No worries. She's completely allowed to be nosy." He charmingly says, making the older woman laugh to herself, her floppy ears just as grey as her hair. "Are you in any pain right now?" He asks her, but she shakes her head, visibly drowsy from the pain medication she's already been given for her fractured ankle. "That's good. I'll go check up with my coworkers on the scans, and then I'll be right back to discuss how we'll proceed from here, is that alright?" He asks, and she nods.

"I've got my company right here." She smiles at her husband who holds her had with an equally warm expression.

When Jungkook walks to the small area for staff to discuss the scans, he can't help but shake his head amazed, Jimin laughing as well. "She's awfully energetic for her age." Jimin grins brightly, clicking away on the computer to find the scans from earlier, Hoseok close by nodding to himself. "To imagine her being almost sixty. Amazing." Jimin smiles to himself.

"The fracture is a bit complicated, and I doubt she'll walk perfectly fine in the future even after surgery-" Hoseok informs, showing Jungkook the scans. "But she'll be fine. I doubt she's going into any sort of competitive sports at her age anyways." He chuckles.

"I've already printed all the forms out for her admission, filled out what I can. I'll just need your signatures and other info I didn't bother to do." Jimin jokes.

"You think she's still high risk surgery?" Hoseok asks, referring to the patient. "Considering her age. I'm a little worried about anesthetics."

"She's got no blood pressure issues or any other health problems we'd usually see in hybrids her age. So no- while I'd love you to stay a bit careful, I don't think she's high risk." He nods. "Taehyung should stand by during the surgery to watch over everything if that makes you more comfortable." He says, and Hoseok nods.

"Right, he's back from break, isn't he?" He chimes up, nodding. "I'll go fetch him then." The surgeon agrees, walking off as Jungkook goes back to the patient as well.

Things like these make him feel proud.

It's not arrogant to assume that he's playing a big part in cases like hers- a 58 year old hybrid in very good shape- things that are becoming more and more common these days. Every new discovery, every new person deciding to study this field, every new medical issue solved, adds to the life expectancy of hybrids. And it's not just them- Jungkook knows that sometimes, discoveries about hybrids' bodies can help humans too.

"Alright Miss Yong, you have indeed fractured your ankle pretty badly." Jungkook nods as he walks into her section in the emergency hall. "We'll schedule you for surgery, but considering your overall wonderful health, I'm not worried." He informs her. "Although I do have to inform you that considering your age there is a basic risk to any surgery present." He says, especially towards the owner and husband, who nods.

"That's only logical." He nods, since his wife seems a bit sleepy. "So how long will she stay here?" He asks, and Jimin sneaks into the room, preparing everything to have her transported to her room.

"It's not clear yet, but it'll definitely be until the end of the week at least." Jungkook informs him. "But Doctor Jung will give you a more detailed insight on what's to come from here on." He tells them both.

"Is he as handsome as you?" The lady asks, and Jimin can't help but snort a laugh.

"Oh, even more so, I'd say." Jungkook jokes, and everyone laughs.

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Jungkook has given an oath to protect life, and he's aware of that- but he hopes whoever's up there above makes an exception for him when he has to commit a murder in the next few minutes.

"You better have a real good reason to ping me out of my bed at 3 in the fucking morning.!" Jungkook growls under his breath, walking into the staff room where Namjoon seems to have already been waiting. "The ER is empty- so is my bed, when I should be in it! Why am I here?" He whines, changing out of his clothes and into his scrubs- his shift is gonna start at 5 anyways, so it won't really be smart to go back home after whatever is going on that needs his attention so badly is done.

"Trust me, I hate ringing you out of your sleep." Namjoon sighs, as he slides a clipboard towards the young doctor, who slips on his shoes before he takes it to read over it. "Take a good look at it, and tell me what's fishy about it." He asks, and Jungkook adjusts his glasses, reading through all the medical jargon written down in handwriting he used to be unable to read.

"Are you trying to test me here?" Jungkook asks annoyed, though he keeps his attention mostly on the clipboard, moving page after page to find what his friend and coworker seems to be hinting at.

"No, I'm serious." Namjoon questions, crossing his arms.

The seriousness in his voice makes Jungkook focus a bit more, looking through everything when he flips a page back and forth. "Wait, that doesn't make sense.." He mumbles to himself, and Namjoon seems relieved that his best friend has seemingly found the issue as well. "How the hell does one get stabbed three times 'on accident'?" Jungkook questions, shaking his head. "On the thigh, too?" He wonders, looking at Namjoon in front of him.

"Owner said the patient had 'moved around' while he tried to remove the butter knife, forcing it back in twice." Namjoon offers, and Jungkook scoffs.

"Come on, stabbing someone with something as dull as a butter knife is already pretty impossible to achieve." The young doctor questions. "But really? And anyone believed him?" He wonders, looking through the vitals once more.

"Read the name again. The owner's, not the patient's." He asks, and Jungkook's eyes widen.

"Jo Dongsun? So that's why they're just gonna shrug it off?" He asks. "Cause he's an actor?"

"Probably." Namjoon sighs, walking back to take a sip from his cold coffee on the table. "But that's not.. entirely why I pinged you." He says, peaking Jungkook's interest as he's finally awake and alert enough, fully back in work-mode. "The patient- poor thing is refusing any up-close treatment, has to be put on local anesthetics, and you know that's not ideal." The young doctor says, walking out the door with his friend at his side, walking back into the ER. "And you've got a hand for things like that. Maybe you can try and make her feel more comfortable so we won't have to medicate her this much?" He asks, and Jungkook nods.

Hybrids are pretty sensitive to most human medications- their bodies still being studied, many side effects still being explored and explained. But until they're understood to the degree that the world understands the human body, they have to work with that they have- and adjust everything else. It's why people like Jungkook are so vital to today's medical system- he's talented in creating solutions for problems no one else would think of, keeps his studies up to date, and is most of all compassionate and kind even to the wildest of patients.

He's also got a certified degree proving his top knowledge when it comes to hybrid care specifically. It's why Namjoon had even proposed the idea to everyone to move you into Jungkook's care instead, though some aren't really on board with it, considering his rather.. wild attitude so to speak. He won't back into whatever the man will try and tell him happened- he will try and get to the bottom of this, no matter how much impact that guy has.

If he has to ruin a career to save a life, he will.

"I'll do my best. If it's a domestic abuse case she's probably pretty terrified." Jungkook mumbles more or less to himself, before he seems to arrive at the corner you're hidden in, curtains giving you some privacy. He doesn't know what to expect, really- even though he's read all of your data, everything he needs to know about your physical and mental state- he still won't know what he's dealing with until he goes behind that curtain.

And nothing in the world could've prepared him for what's behind that said curtain, as he pulls it back and catches his first glimpse of you.

He knows you.

Jimin is currently rushing from left to right with gauze, trying to stop your bleeding when Jungkook shows up. "I assume Namjoon filled you in?" He asks distracted, and Jungkook nods.

"Yeah. How's the bleeding?" He worries, watching how another nurse hangs up a bag of blood to prepare a transfusion to make up for the blood you've lost.

"Those two here-" Jimin points at the ones he's talking about. "Are alright for now, they're deep, but this one right here definitely hit one of the bigger blood vessels." He explains, exchanging the gauze again. "It just won't stop." He hisses to himself.

"Alright we've got the blood here already, which is good because that blood pressure is not making me happy right now." He says, taking control of the situation and nurses standing by for any sort of demand. "I want you to stop any medication you're using to keep her unconscious right now so we don't have her drop any further. Have we got any scans of the wounds yet?" He asks, and Jimin nods.

"She came back from CT a few minutes ago, they should be back soon." He says a bit distracted, hissing to himself when the wound starts bleeding as soon as he takes away the gauze.

"Where's her owner?" Jungkook asks, and Jimin's face shows all he needs to know.

"I'd say too worried about the potential scandal than here." He scoffs. "But trust me I'd rather deal with him than her careworker demon in the waiting room right now." He says.

"Let me guess, elderly woman, sour attitude and dark lipstick?" He asks.

"You know her?" Jimin wonders, fixating a bandage.

"Met them both a week ago I think? Already got a sense something was off.." He wonders. "Gives me a good chance to check on something though. Can you hold her turned a bit, I want to get a look at her tail." He asks the senior nurse, who nods, gently turning you on your side for his friend to look at.

He feels around at the base, all the way down to the tip of your tail, deep in thought.

"What're you looking for?" Jimin wonders, closely paying attention to your vitals as they slowly change, your consciousness returning very slowly.

"Proof." Jungkook simply states. Considering you're above the age of 21, he can't just lean on the help of the law for hybrid abuse- you're too old for that, and your category is too low as well. So the only way he can get you out of this situation, is by providing undisputable proof of present neglect or abuse.

"You think it's abuse?" Jimin wonders. "That's a big claim to make, Jungkook. That guy could ruin your career and future with a snap of his fingers."

"So can I." Jungkook himself simply says. "I want an X-ray of her tail, full side and length." He offers. "And as soon as she's back up, ping me."

"Did she break it?" Jimin wonders, carefully adjusting you back on your backside.

"Not today-" He says, taking his clipboard with him. "-but in the past, at least four times."

"that's not uncommon for canine hybrids." Jimin softly argues. "they knock their tails into things constantly." He claims.

"I'm aware." He nods. "But her tail's ice cold down the sixth vertebra. And that's exactly where she caught it last time I saw her- which means she didn't see anyone for it until now." He mumbles the last part to himself, running off to check with someone else he knows and trusts-

leaving a confused Jimin behind.

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"I could give you options to at least file in for neglect." Yoongi quietly mumbles, looking at the X-rays and scans. "Though if you spin it smart, you could argue about her past medical history being proof of something going on as well." The young man nods, reading the charts on the clipboard. "How do you know her?"

"Met her last week. She'd gotten her tail caught in those automatic glass doors, complained over numbness in her legs right after." He sighs. "Her caretaker was what bothered me most. She wasn't at all interested in her health." Yoongi nods at that, giving the clipboard back.

"Well-" He softly speaks, getting up to adjust something near the patient's bed, before he sits down again. "-I'm not in the position to tell you not to get attached to her." He responds, his gaze on the female feline hybrid in the bed, monitor beeping in a steady rhythm, soothing his mind a bit. Yoongi has been at her bedside ever since she was admitted- no owner to take care of her, instead in government care. No one knows exactly why he of all people is so attached to her, visiting her every day at least once- but it's a well known fact to everyone that he loves her dearly.

Even though, if they have any memories together, she won't remember any of them even if she ever wakes up.

"But I have to remind you that you're playing against a huge name. This will cost you your entire career if you fail." Yoongi says, and Jungkook nods.

He knows this. Going against a name as big as him will put him into the public eye as well- and considering that he doesn't have any foolproof evidence yet, he'd be dumb to actually try and involve authorities at this point in time. No matter what, this isn't as easy and cut-out as he wishes it would be.

"Do what you're paid for, for now." Yoongi reminds him. "Look after her, make sure she recovers, get her back on her feet. As soon as you leave this building, leave her here as well."

Jungkook sighs defeatedly, nodding. "I'll check up here before I go tonight." He says, nodding to the hospital bed behind Yoongi- but he only shrugs, before Jungkook get's pinged back to the emergency room where you're still placed.

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When he arrives, he can already hear the commotion from behind the privacy curtains.

"I have a right to be here, she's just being dramatic!" The familiar voice of the lady calls out, and Jungkook feels like he wants to turn and go the other way. But instead, he listens to Yoongi's advice, and enters the small section where you're being treated. "You! Put your workers in line here, I've been verbally assaulted just for checking up on her-" She argues, Jimin ready to snap at her.

"Miss- okay, let's calm down everyone, this is not helping her at all right now." Jungkok tries to solve the small fight between an angrily glaring Jimin and the older woman currently huffing in anger. "I kindly ask you to move to the side please so I can properly assess her, if you don't mind." He asks, but she crosses her arms.

"You can just squeeze past me, what's the big deal? I thought you've already done that, you've had her here for ages after all!" She huffs. "We've been here four hours almost, for a simple accident! This is ridiculous!" She yells at him, but he's not at all bothered by it.

"Miss I will have to get you removed if you're going to hinder me in doing my job." He calmly responds, noticing how you lean into Jimin's body, something the nurse notices as well as he masks gentle comforting touches as things such as adjusting your gown that you've been given. It's another clue that something's off- the way you're moving away from her, technically a known and familiar and usually comforting person, instead leaning towards a stranger in something scary as a hospital with all its sounds and smells.

"You can't make me do anything." She threatens him. "Who do you think you are? Fresh out of medical school and thinks he's something better! Are you even old enough to work as a doctor?!" She claims, and Jungkook simply sighs, opening the curtains a bit.

"Can I have security here, please?" He calls out, a nurse close by picking up a phone to call for them, while the woman is successfully triggered by his actions.

"Come on, up. We're leaving." She snaps at you, reaching to rip out the delicate tubes connected to your arm- but Jungkook steps in instead, putting his body in front of her so she can't reach you.

"Miss, I can understand this is stressful, but you're being unreasonable." He argues as gently as he can. "I can't let you take her in this condition."

"You're gonna hear about this!" She seethes as security leads her away. "Have fun playing doctor while you can.!" She hisses, being escorted away while still arguing.

Jungkook sighs, and so does Jimin.

"…m' sorry." You mumble quietly, and Jimin immediately looks at you gently.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart." He reassures. "Let's get you properly sorted out now, okay?" He tells you, and you nod.

"How are your legs doing, hm?" Jungkook asks, and now you seem to properly look at him for the first time.

"Oh." You simply say, only realizing now who he is. He looks a lot different than last time- his bangs are brushed back and revealing his forehead, and he's dressed in a more formal-casual style, with black slacks and a light brown button up, the first few undone. It's like he's suddenly aged up five years at least, but he doesn't seem unfriendly or intimidating at all, even though you can see the muscles underneath his skin work as he rolls up his sleeves.

"I look a bit different, don't I?" He chuckles, walking closer. "Are you in a lot of pain right now or is it manageable?" He wonders, and you finally seem to settle down quite a bit.

"Just a bit." You quietly answer him. "And my legs are okay." You explain. "Just.. feel a bit like I'm gonna be sick." You worry towards Jimin who's busied himself with petting one of your ears. When he hears this, he gets a small paper bowl ready just in case, and Jungkook nods as he checks all the vitals.

"Hm, your blood pressure is still a bit low so that might be why you feel a bit nauseous." He reassures. "We'll get some more fluids in for you, you're pretty dehydrated. Do you drink enough water during the day?" He asks you, and you shrug. "Don't know?" He chuckles in sympathy, aware that you might still be a bit dizzy and foggy in the head from everything going on.

"What's too little?" You ask him softly.

"Well, I'd say everything below maybe five glasses in a day?" He says, and your eyes widen.

"That much?" You wonder, looking at Jimin at your side.

"A lot of people forget to drink during the day." The nurse reassures. Jungkook however, can't help but dig deeper.

"Doesn't your owner make sure you drink enough?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Don't see him much." You mumble. "He's busy. I mostly stay with Miss Hwang, and she doesn't really pay much attention to what I eat or drink." You say, watching how Jungkook steps aside to let a nurse hang up a bag of IV-fluids.

"Hm, I see." He nods to himself.

"Am I in trouble?" You ask suddenly, ears pinned down.

"For what would you get into trouble for?" Jimin wonders next to you.

"Cause I used the phone without asking." You offer them. "I just got scared. I know it's not allowed for me to used it.." You say, and Jungkook exchanges a glance with Jimin.

"No, you're not in trouble." Jungkook reassures. "Who said you can't use the phone?" He wonders, though tries hard not to show his inner worry.

"My owner and Miss Hwang. Cause I'm a hybrid, and I'll go to prison if I do." You say.

"Can you tell me exactly what happened today?" Jungkook asks, pulling a chair closer to sit on it next to where you're laying.

"We had Dinner, Dongsun and uh, miss Hwang and I." You recall, looking at your hands. "I.. we had pizza." You describe, seeing the scene in front of you again. "And I wanted- I asked Dongsun for a piece of his and he said yeah- and usually he doesn't share with me so I got excited." You explain; looking at Jungkook as if to convey that you're sorry about whatever happened. "I knocked over a glass on the table, and it spilled on his phone I think- so he got angry, and I think he just wanted to hit the table, but he- I think he just- he just didn't see that I was sitting too close, probably, maybe- and-" You ramble now. "I don't know, I don't think I remember it right, I think I just got scared and made things up in my head." You stutter, Jimin gently rubbing your shoulder in reassurance.

Jungkook can sense something wrong here.

"Do you do that a lot?" He asks. "Make stuff up in your head when you're scared?" He questions, and you shrug.

"Dongsun says I do. Hybrids do that all the time, he says." You explain to him. "So I- Miss Hwang and Dongsun will know what happened, really. I- you're a doctor right? Why do we do that?" You ask, and Jungkook can't give you an answer.

Because there is none. Whatever world-view and twisted facts you've been fed until now are simply bullshit.

"What.. happened in your mind?" Jungkook carefully asks, as Namjoon enters the small space. "Like, what do you remember happened?" He wonders.

"Dongsun got really angry. He gets angry often, because I'm stupid." You explain casually, making Namjoon's face twist into one of pure confusion. "He was surprised for a second when he accidentally hit my leg with the knife. But then he.. I don't know, it was like he.. snapped. And so he did it again, and another time, until I ran away and hid in the bathroom." You say. "In my mind it looked like he was hurting me on purpose. So I ran off, and- no wait, I didn't run into the bathroom, it was the bedroom. Yeah. I made a mess there- Dongsun has a really pretty white carpet there, I got into trouble once because I accidentally dropped a glass of juice on it.." You drift off.

"Did you call the ambulance there?" Jungkook questions, and you nod.

"That's where I used Miss Hwang's phone that was on the bed." You say, and it confuses everyone for a second why her phone would be there- but they don't think about it for now. "Am I gonna get put into jail now?" You ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, absolutely not sweetheart." He shakes his head. "You did a great job calling for help. We'll take good care of you, and make sure you'll be alright, okay?" He asks, and you nod.

"I think I might be sick.." You mumble ashamed at Jimin, who quickly reaches for the paper bowl to hold for you, another hand holding your hair away from your face.

"Why is her blood pressure still so low?" Namjoon wonders more quietly to Jungkook, who'd just stood up as well, arms crossed.

"Maybe an underlying issue undiagnosed." Jungkook mumbles, watching you. "Maybe drugs. I'm gonna have them do a urine test for common birth control and hormone blockers. I've not got a good feeling with her whatsoever." He lowly tells his coworker. "I know domestic abuse when I see it, and right there-" He looks back at where you're laying back down with the help of Jimin, another nurse walking in to tell him something, "-is a hybrid who's been conditioned into believing that she can't trust her own judgement, and that she has to abide by everything her owner and caretaker say." He tells Namjoon, walking out of your hearing range for a moment. "Hell- they told her it's illegal for a hybrid to use a fucking phone, Namjoon, that's cult-shit!" He hisses.

"Yoongi has told me you're suspecting something like that." The emergency doctor shakes his head. "Hearing the little that I did, I'm honestly on board with you. But we're not law enforcement. Jungkook, our hands are bound- she's above age and below category for us to use any of the safety laws in this case." He reminds the younger doctor.

"I know." He sighs, defeated. "Fuck, I know."

"Let's make sure she gets the treatment she needs for now, alright? Go one step at a time." Namjoon tries to reassure his friend. "For now, you've got medicine on your side. She can't be taken home in this condition, no matter if her owner wants that or not. Currently, she's legally in our care, until she's deemed healthy enough to go back home." He reminds his friend, who nods.

"I guess that's all the time we get." He worries, watching as everyone walks around, Jimin exiting your little space to talk to another nurse standing by.

And for the first time in a long while, Jungkook knows he'll go against Yoongi's advice, and take his work home tonight.

Your fearful gaze haunting him in his sleep.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Zuko Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

When in Doubt, Go to the Library by Returquoise - Rated T

"I am Wan Shi Tong, He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things, and this is my library, my domain," he answered instead, "Who are you, mortal?" The boy hesitated but answered, "I... was Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. My... the Fire Lord has banished me, with no recourse to return." aka Wan Shi Tong adopts Zuko AU

5 times Zuko called the Avatar Grandpa… by SeleneMoon - Rated G

...and 1 time Aang asked why Hopefully updating every two days.

hello moon, it's me by chaoticsandstorm - Rated M

"There a lot of things about Zuko that the servants ignore. He is half-way between skins now. He shed the old one and hasn’t grown into the new one, trapped between worlds and skins and identities. Some days he feels more like Li the war-child refugee than Zuko, the Fire Lord." Zuko attempts to lead his nation into peace, kicking and screaming in protest. He discovers what it means to survive a war- and a childhood- that no one ever wanted or expected him to.

Scriven Me Softly by SensationalSunburst - Rated G

“It’s a piece of history,” He argued and she was, as always, shocked at the rolling gravel that flowed quietly from his mouth, “We must preserve it.” And Mae, who’d spent hours scrubbing the ghost of bloodied fingerprints from her brushes and days willing the scratch of pen to paper to drown out the sound of the Fire Princess's wailing; had looked at the child clutching ruined parchment to his chest and suddenly understood like a punch to the jaw why Prince Iroh had to be physically restrained from murdering his brother in cold blood. Or The early days of Firelord Zuko's reign as described by his Royal Stenographer.

blade of silver, forge of blue by MikkiOfTheAnbu - Rated T

“Blessed Spirit, we thank you for the gift of this child’s life. We are forever in your debt.” The whole village is kneeling now, even the tiniest toddlers flopped down on their stomachs doing their best approximation of a bow. “Please, won’t you give us a name to call you? We would like to properly express our gratitude.” Oh. Well shit. (Where Zuko saves a little Earth Kingdom girl from drowning, the villagers think he's a Spirit, build him a shrine, and long story short, a fake story about the Blue Spirit who dances with dragons suddenly becomes very real.)

Perfection is Overrated by JaggedCliffs - Rated G

For his first thirteen years, Zuko was raised in a palace. And yet somehow, it's the three years outside the Fire Nation that seem to count more – at least to the palace staff, who act like he's been raised by fox-wolves. At first, this only annoys Zuko. Until he begins to think that the Fire Nation needs more than a formerly-banished prince.

What the Fire Lord did to his Son by hearmerory - Rated T

Toph knew the story. Every Earth Kingdom child did. About how the prince of the Fire Nation had been burned in front of an audience of hundreds, and then sent away to sail Earth Kingdom waters on a pointless search. The Earth Kingdom knew the kind of man the Fire Lord was. And Toph knew the kind of boy the Fire Prince had been.

The Cavern and the Koi Pond by Rosie447 - Rated G

The last thing Zuko remembered clearly was being on the bridge in the North Pole, and losing his grip on the railing with the sudden realization that offering mercy to the man who’d thrown fire at his back the last time he’d beaten him was perhaps not amongst his best ideas. Or, Zhao takes Zuko's hand and pulls. The Spirit World is not entirely sure what to do with the unexpected stowaway.

How to Make a Spirit Fox by DevinePhoenix - Rated G

Everyone is born with animal features, a reflection of the spirit animal that represents their soul. Zuko is born as a fox in a royal family of cats. Also at some point he impersonates a spirit so well no one believes him when he says that he's not.

put the weight on me by orphan_account - Rated T

“I think he’s sick.” Bato says flatly. “So unless you want the next meeting to include the Fire Lord puking all over the budget scrolls, maybe see if he's okay?” Hakoda glances up the hallway, like perhaps Katara will appear and take over dealing with the prickly teenager. Of course, his daughter is off treating injured refugees with the Avatar, and Bato is still staring at him expectantly, arms crossed. “Fine,” He sighs, and he claps Bato on the cheek before heading into the room. Or: Zuko falls ill not long after Ozai's defeat. Hakoda sits with him and learns some unpleasant truths about his childhood.

fulminate by entropy_muffin - Rated T

The sun sets on the Day of Black Sun. The coronation is held at dawn.

We Are All Doomed by renegade_of_theworld - Rated G

Palace staff has VERY bad timing... they think that Fire Lord Zuko will kill them all. Zuko doesn't know what is going on. OR Palace staff gossips. And it looks like Fire Lord Zuko is worse than Ozai.

things lost in the fire by earlgreylover98 - Rated G

The wanted poster had the scar on the wrong side.

Maybe he didn’t care enough to look at the poster before it got sent out. Or maybe, Ozai didn’t actually remember which side of his son’s face he had burned off all those years ago. Zuko wasn’t sure what was worse. Ozai had know which side the scar was on. He had to remember. Right?

In which Zuko isn't sure Ozai knows which side of his face he burnt off and it sends him spiraling.

[slippinmickeys]

Twenty questions for fanfic writers

I was tagged by @agent-troi and @randomfoggytiger Thanks for the tag, guys!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

53

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

712,000 exactly, which is sort of creepy?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The X-Files mainly, though a million years ago I wrote two fics for JAG, and technically, I have a His Dark Materials fic (but it's an XF crossover)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae

Prompt Drabble Collection

The Annapolis Grant

Three Part Harmony

A Companion Unobtrusive

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! Comments are the only payment fanfic writers get, and it's an incredibly valuable and underrated currency. Fanfiction as a community is one of the most generous you'll find, and I'm incredibly proud to be a part of this particular one.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh man, probably La Comtesse de Saint-Germain.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

In this day and age I feel like we deal with enough shit, so I try to end most of my fics happily. I think A Gem-Like Flame probably has the most uplifting happy ending, but then, I'm a sports nerd.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't yet.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Um, probably pretty vanilla het MSR. No shame.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I've only written one, but it turned out really well, I thought. It's an X-Files/His Dark Materials novella-length crossover that takes place in Lyra's world, pre-Lyra, called Out of the Little Grove.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Anyone who steals my fic is going to catch these hands.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a couple of years ago someone asked if they could translate one of my fics to Russian. It's out there somewhere.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I jumped in and helped @monikafilefan get Five Years and a Lifetime over the line for a fic exchange a couple of years ago. A fun, collaborative experience, that was like 85% Monika. It's a great fic, check it out if you haven't!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Mulder & Scully are my OTP. Always and forever.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I'd love to finish Madam Scully's Spiritual Services, Inc., it's an AU where Scully works for her sister's Psychic Boutique while prepping for med school. Scully ends up being actually psychic and she helps newly minted FBI agent Fox Mulder solve a series of murders. I have it almost completely plotted (except for the nitty-gritty hard stuff), but I don't think I'll ever get it done, sadly. It's just too big a story to tackle with where I am in my life. Though I never say never.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm decent at dialogue, have a pretty firm grasp on plotting, and, I hope characterization.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

My character work is probably my weak spot, which is why I have so much fun writing fanfic--the character work is already done, I just get to play around a world where everybody already knows the characters.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

When I do it, I hope like hell that I'm doing it right. I think it's necessary for some stories and you just hope you're properly respecting a language you don't speak.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The X-Files, in the year of our lord nineteen hundred and ninety eight.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

It's a toss up between Proof of Life, an AU where CNN conflict reporter Dana Scully is kidnapped and imprisoned with fellow kidnap victim and photojournalist Fox Mulder, and they, you know, fall in love. And North of Zero, a post-col novel where Mulder and Scully get William back and have to save the world. The one I totally pantsed (made up as I went along), and it came together like alchemy. I love that story. If you don't like AU, you'd like Proof of Life. If you don't like post-colonization stories, you'd like North of Zero. I don't always like everything I've written after I'm done writing it (a writer's life), but I'm incredibly proud of both of those fics.

Tagging @monikafilefan because she's already tagged, and anyone else who wants to do this!

[onlinediarythings]

hello can you do the mayor evermore x fem! assistant!reader nsfw?

Oneshot;; Mayor Evermore

" Crazy dreams. "

Pairings ;; Mayor Evermore x FEM!Assistant!Reader Tags ;; Smut, kinda porn with no plot, dream sex, p in v, degration, praise Warnings ;; NSFW PoV ;; 3rd person

It had been a long, boring day. While being the only personal assistant for the mayor had its perks -- the main being the pay -- it was quite uneventful. Not that you minded too much. This entire job boiled down to; sleep when the mayor wasn't around.

And who were you to deny sleep? Even if sometimes, your dreams would be filled with Evermore.

Just as you had nodded to sleep, you felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to quickly straighten up, head swirling around to see none other than Mr. Evermore. "Ah shi━ mr. Evermore!" You choked out, feeling the air catching up in your throat.

"Is this what you do when I'm not around?" he questioned lowly, an eyebrow arching in curiosity, "Up. Stand up."

Despite the nervousness wracking you, somehow you managed to heave yourself up off the chair you rested on.

Only to find yourself pushed up against the desk behind you, Evermore towering over your with his hands on either side of you on the desk━ caging you in. "Such a bad employee," he tutted dissaprovingly, ignoring the increasing flush in your cheeks, "sleeping on the job? I think you should be taught a lesson."

A shit eating, and cocky grin spread across his face as he lifted you onto the desk and made quick work of undoing your blouse, tossing the fabric away carelessly. He eyes your unclothed midriff and your bra, before skillfully unclipping and taking off the afformentioned bra.

Mr. Evermore leaned down, attaching his mouth to your nipple,

"Fuck-- Mr. Evermore-!" You gasped, arching your back and pushing your chest further against his face. His only response was a groan, his other hand raising to roll the other nipple in his middle finger and thumb, causing a low whine to fall from your lips.

To be honest, you weren't sure how things had gone this far so fast, but you soon found your cheek smushed against the desk, Mr. Evemore pistoning n and out of you at a fast pace. "You like that, little whore? Being used like my fucking-- ngh.. fuckin' fleshlight?" he asked through labored breaths, raising and lowering his hand to slap your ass.

Being unable to even speak properly, let alone think clearly enough to try to, you merely moaned, a loud one, nails digging into the wood beneath them the most they could. "Mr. Evermore! Fuck-!" was all you could muster up.

A feeling like a searing hot tightening coil - or perhaps a string being pulled and pulled thinner - had been building up since the start, feeling as though it'd snap at any moment. Inside of yourself, you could feel Mr. Evermore's cock twitch as his hips snapped forwards and back.

"Y'take me so good, so tight." he cooed, leaning more onto you to properly fuck you. This caused you to squeal in delight, eyes rolling up as far as they could. With his cock buried so deep insie of you, it couldn't be helped you felt so full. You loved it.

Perhaps it was a bit taboo, having your boss fucking you bent over a desk, in a room where anyone could walk in -- as you doubt he'd locked the door before deciding he needed to impale you with himself. Not that you were complaining, far from it in fact. The idea of someone catching such an important man wanting you, made you feel an odd sense of pride.

Mayor Evermore wanted you, and you alone.

"Oh fuck, {Y/N}-!" he gasped, eyes rolling back ever so slightly as his cum shot out inside of you, causing you to reach your own climax as well, body quivering rather violently.

Your head shot up from the esk, body covered in sweat. Feeling slightly dazed you glanced around- then at yourself. You were fully clothed, and the room was empty.

Dammit, you really need to stop having wet dreams about your boss.

[waitineedaname]

20 questions for 20 writers!

tagged by @buffintruder thank you!!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

89 ! that feels like a lot

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

355,274 which also feels like a lot!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

usually whatever I'm hyperfixating on at the time! right now it's mdzs/the untamed, but I've got some scum villain wips in the works

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Handsome Mystery Boy -- Skam soulmate AU

hot dilfs in your area (not clickbait!!1!) -- HLVRAI modern au

Strider Bros Feelings Jam -- Homestuck post-canon

Let's Get This Over With -- HLVRAI dream-sharing

The Secret Boyfriend -- TAZ Balance modern au

5. Do you respond to comments?

usually! it might take me a bit, but I usually try to respond, especially if it's a more recent fic. if it's an old fic or the comment is just, like, a string of heart emojis or something, I usually don't respond. doesn't mean the comment doesn't make me smile though!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

tbh I don't write a whole lot of angsty endings? even if it's an angsty fic, I try to end on at least a hopeful/bittersweet note, y'know? I guess the angstiest ending would be Frayed Seams because it's in the middle of the series and is giving context to the strained relationship between the Kageyama siblings. they do eventually begin to mend their relationship by the end of the series! just. not in this fic.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

this is once again rather hard because I mostly write happy endings! and I have a lot of short fics that are just. pure fluff. I guess if I'm looking for a fic that's long enough to Earn a happy ending, it would be a tie between Plant Their Hearts In Community Gardens or the sun in the summertime! I love how much Mob and Reigen's lives have improved by the end of the show <3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not that comes to mind! I don't think I've ever gotten hate comments, so if people don't like my stuff they at least only complain about it somewhere I can't see it, which I appreciate

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

not really! I am usually a genfic writer lol though I have had wlwangxian robot sex on the brain lately for. reasons. and also I have a feeling some of my bingqiu fics are going to be like, scenes in the Middle of them having sex, because [gestures] bingqiu

10. Do you write crossovers?

I haven't done a whole lot of them, but I think the concept can be fun if executed properly! crossovers where the two casts meet don't generally appeal to me, but crossovers that function more like an au (characters from Series A in the universe of Series B) are more my speed. I have been pondering a svsss/hlvrai crossover....

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

god I hope not

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah! I've had a couple fics translated into Russian, way long ago

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

not in a "we both were writing the fic in its entirety" way but I have written some aus and fics where I was bouncing ideas off friends so much that they might as well be a co-author. Let's Get This Over With would not exist without @neonlav's help

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

oh christ I have no idea. I'm a genfic person. bingqiu is doing something vile to my brain chemistry lately though

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

so many... so so many......... do not look in my google docs folder, there are too many untitled documents that have been abandoned........... I guess a more recent example would be a mdzs fic where wei wuxian is the juniors' camp counselor. I think the idea was v fun but I could not figure out where to take it. man I wish I was an artist so I didn't have to write plots for my silly little aus

16. What are your writing strengths?

dialogue! I love writing dialogue, especially when I feel like I really Get a character

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

fight scenes.... also pacing and figuring out how to end a fic, final lines are so hard

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I am not fluent enough in another language to pull off writing whole chunks of dialogue in another language! sometimes I'll use terminology from another language, especially if it doesn't translate well (like Japanese or Chinese honorifics and family terms) but otherwise I don't write in another language bc I would be too worried about it being incorrect

19. First fandom you wrote for?

it was, embarrassingly, for the since disgraced video game youtuber Cryaotic. in my defense, I was thirteen. the first fandom I posted fic for was for Hetalia, which is just as embarrassing. once again, my defense is that I was fourteen

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I am genuinely so goddamn proud of Let's Get This Over With. I had so much fun writing it, there are some concepts in it that I'm really proud of, and I just really enjoyed writing for hlvrai. those character voices were fun to play with

I'll tag @patron-saints, @scribefindegil, @localdisasterisk, @thatneoncrisis, and @notedchampagne!

[reaperlight]

Several Sentence Sunday

I was tagged by @kingofdarkness00

Here, have some crossover...

---

Mu Xing looked up from the book she was pretending to read while trying to stall for time but knew that was rapidly dwindling.

The library would close soon, and she was waiting--

"Hey uh, so you're on this thing too, right?" A too loud voice suddenly asked her in English.

"Huh?"

Xing jolted when the man approached her. She'd been on edge for several hours now.

He was a white man in a leather jacket with messy dark blonde hair. He was a bit short but with well defined muscles, like he worked out.

"Oh hi! I don't think we properly met. I'm Eddie Brock with the Daily Globe. We, I mean I was wondering if you could help me? See uh the Globe sent me here but I'm afraid, um, not too great with the language and I wanted to make sure I got this right--" he asked haltingly, going back and forth between English and Mandarin.

Ugh, Americans. They go to another country and expect everyone to accommodate them.

Still it was a welcome distraction considering--

"Did you know you're being followed?" The man asked softly in Mandarin.

She met icy blue eyes that were filled with genuine concern.

"That lady over, no, don't look. She's been staring at you for this entire time we've been here, like at least the last ten minutes--."

No, Xing well knew she was being watched, being followed by the one the man had noticed. It had been hours. But--

"How did you know?"

"Like I said, I saw your press badge, thought I recognized you from the conference. I'm a reporter too. I wanted to look at those same materials that you checked out but I couldn't help but notice--"

Now that he mentioned it, she remembered him--the foreign reporter who came in late to the presser looking lost. He was probably harmless... Or at the very least he probably was not working for THEM.

"...I'm just like getting really bad vibes about all this you know? Did you want us, I mean me to walk with you?"

Xing knew the woman very likely intended to kill her. Because she knew too much. But would they still try something with a potential witness around? It would likely just be delaying the inevitable and get this man killed as well.

She should try and get rid of him, or least give him an out.

"I um... I have a boyfriend."

"Oh uh... me too. I mean, I'm not looking for anything like that here. I just thought as like a professional courtesy. Safety in numbers, right?"

Xing swallowed "...They'll kill you too."

The man's jovial demeanor became serious.

How much was an act and just how much did he know?

Who was this man? Could she even trust him?

But given the situation she didn't really have another option.

"All the more reason not to leave you alone with her then. If it comes to it, I think I can take her..."

That bravado would likely get him killed...

"I believe she's killed before."

"Noted. Shall we?"

Well she tried. And admittedly she would feel better with company.

"Yes, let's."

As he accompanied her to the parking lot her misgivings returned--she sincerely doubted they'd care about one extra body...

"...You really don't want to get mixed up in all this, Mr. Brock, it's dangerous."

Xing couldn't help but notice how often the man often paused at odd intervals as if listening to someone respond before replying to her.

He said he had troubles with the language and true he often stumbled with pronunciation and yet it seemed he rarely stumbled with understanding her. Maybe he had a Bluetooth or a translator in his ear? That seemed likely given his tendency to mutter to himself in English. Either that or the man was disturbed--she hadn't entirely ruled that out either.

"You know they'll target you too..."

"It wouldn't be the first time." The man grinned, was it her imagination or were his teeth just a little too sharp?

"That's how we know we're doing our jobs right, as reporters?"

She liked him, despite herself, despite the warning signs. There was an inkling now. "Bad vibes" as Mr. Brock had called them that perhaps her companion was more dangerous thst the assassin who pursued her. She wasn't sure yet if that was a good thing or not but again she had little options at the moment.

Xing smiled back tightly, "...Your Chinese is truly atrocious."

"I know, I'm sorry. Our foreign correspondent, the really smart lady they usually send for these things, got sick with the flu. My bad for padding my resumé but I guess they really needed a body to send."

---

Tagging if you wanna do it...

@krisseratops @kitausuret

@pulchrasilva @ro-zden

@symbiotic-slime

[issacballsac]

Tangent Line

Julian (Smith)

Gender Neutral Reader

-

Another average day of work finished its gruel passing on your day. As you began to close up the bar; wiping the spilled drinks from before and collecting any leftover trash. One person remained at the end of the bar. God, why couldn’t they just leave like everyone else.

“Hey we’re closing up soon.”

An audible choke erupted from them as they sheepishly apologised before going to gather their belongings, the already rusty door burst open.

Dropping everything they were previously picking up, the straggling customer made a run for it.

Noise akin to a metal chain gravely disturbed your ears while the blue—weapon? Fell to the floor.

“Don’t. Run.”

A figure shrouded in shadows stepped forward into the bar.

At least the day would get more entertaining.

“Where? Exit?”

His newly seen scarlet hair came into view as he hastily questioned you.

“If you go out the employee entrance over there you could probably catch ‘em”

Motioning behind yourself, you took no time in ratting out your paying customer. Perhaps you should add no wanted felons on the entry requirements.

Immediately taking off without giving the chance to take a second look. Or you didn’t get a second look at least, as a cry rang out from outside of the bar. Someone else surely did.

“Man, definitely got him.”

You sighed, continuing your work to close the bar for the day. Cleaning up the glasses and flipping the sign over. It wasn’t unusual to spot purifications taking place across the Moniyan Empire.

Until tomorrow. And there tomorrow came.

With a melodramatic routine of opening the bar once more, the afternoon air flooded in. Setting out chairs and stools, the right ding emitted from the doorbell.

“Already? Well that’s fine what can I get for...you.”

The man—the assassin—the purifier stood in the door frame before all else. With a certain cold gaze that would make the devil shiver. The heels of his boots clinked against the wooden floors with each and every step closer to you.

“Thanks.”

Is all he managed to mutter out. Words don’t seem to be his strong suit, but, he pulled out a chair and sat down with the unease of a child whom had been scolded.

Rummaging through his slim pockets he tossed a few coins over the bar counter whilst shifting into a more comfortable position.

“Oh! You want a drink? What kind?”

Planting his hand firmly underneath his chin he began to lose himself in thought for at least a minute before pointing to a clear—granted almost empty bottle.

“Just the liquor straight?”

“Fruit taste? Please.”

Doubting you’d get anything else from him, you began doing what you did best. Making drinks.

With no time at all the fruit like concoction had been crafted and served to you only customer for the hour it seemed, strange.

Downing the well scented beverage in one swing he slid the glass back to you.

“Name is Julian.”

Finally a semi-coherent sentence.

“Nice to meet you.”

You reluctantly hid your own name as you went to clean the used glass.

“You, what is yours?”

“Oh I’m not from the Moniyan Empire.”

“Name?”

Man was he determined to get your name. The bright red light corresponding to his eyes beamed at you in wait.

Finally giving in after two minutes of intense staring you told him your name.

With only a soft hum the man departed.

“What the actual fuck was that.”

His strange pop up visits began to cease over time but the feeling of his gaze never fell from you.

It had to been—what? Months? Before that familiar desertion of the bar was restored.

“Slow day.”

Was the cursed words that triggered the door bell once more.

“Welcome!”

Beginning your daily customer service, as a group of three strutted inside. Three importantly dressed individuals. With a fourth shyly tagging along that you knew all too well.

“Hey it’s you again! Julian right?”

His piercing stare loosened, properly taking you into his sight. In contrast to all three sets of eyes now straying to him.

“You know this guy? No way, you do have friends!”

"Don't tease him Melissa. We are just here for a break."

A seemingly older member of their group chimed in. With two out of the four's names being disclosed. "I don't like alcohol, do you guys have anything else?" A boy-teen-person? With long tamed hair leaned over the counter scouting out the drinks. The rest of the group scoffed in unison. "Don't huff at me you guys aren't even allowed to drink!" Pony-tail wasted no time ratting out his fellow travel mates.

"Damnit Yin, now I'll never get to try some."

"How about you just wait like normal people!"

Awkwardly third--fifth wheeling the conversation you rested the glasses back into their caddy.

"So cola for everyone?"

"From before, the drink. Thank you."

Deviating your eyebrows from resting position your stare intensified. "I thought you were not allowed to drink? Oh man-I already served you before."

"I can. Thank...you." The coins flew across the counter once more. He did not seem interested in arguing the matter. And neither were you, prepping the fruitful concoction once more.

"WHAT? I want one too!" The girl, Melissa? Had taken coins from the elder's pockets and dished them forward. "Would you mind me asking, just how old you guys are? Just for my sanity."

"Not old enough. I will take a Gimlet. Mocktails if you can for the rest." He whispered the last bit , concealing the truth from the party.

"That makes two of us--four of us?"

"What." The man of blaring blue hair had dilated his eyes in a concerned manner. "Oh yeah I can't drink either, I just work here."

A sly series of stares burned holes through your soul as you stood awkwardly. “So, I’ll get those drinks for you.”

Glass clinking across the island perked the eldest’s attention to retrieve the beverages. “Hey we should probably get goin’ soon so we get there in time.” Yin dutifully commented downing his faux liquor.

Viciously digging through his pockets, the blonde boy wearily peered over at Xavier. And with his reluctant sigh, the bill was paid. “Thank you for your service. Let’s go.” The group exchanged bids of farewells, while exiting the doors.

With a boiling confliction within himself, your new regular slid a note on the counter. “I will return. Maybe, you—us can go.” Evidently struggling with his words, you briefly cut him off.

“Of course, if I’m not working that day, then of course.”

An acute smile disguised as a smirk fought its way onto his face as he regrouped with his friends outside. Eagerly awaiting to see you again.

I love Julian sm I’m kicking my feet in the air

Totally not proof read either I made this on my phone 😨

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 7-Atsushi/Fukuzawa with kinks Aphrodisiacs and Praise kink

Notes: Really Rare Pair lol. I dunno, it's fun(I'm a multishipper). ALSO DID YOU GUYS KNOW THAT BENTO’S IN JAPAN COST LIKE 3-5 BUCKS? I'M SO JEALOUS THEIR LIKE 15$ HERE!

It was a relatively peaceful evening at the Agency. And that was because he was the only one here. Atsushi doubted that it would be this quiet if they all had not abandoned him alone to do paperwork and went off on missions. Well, besides Dazai. No one knew where he was. They had their guesses. Kunikida had guessed, ‘off somewhere slacking off as usual,’ Ranpo had simply said ‘woman’ and Yosano and Kenji had guessed suicide attempt. Kyouka hadn't weighed in, and neither had Tanzaki and Naomi, but that was because they hadn't been there. Atsushi was sure that if they had been there, they would have had their own opinions.

But anyway, everyone was out and Atsushi was demoted to doing paperwork all day long in his loneliness. It wasn't too bad in all honesty. It was quiet, and the sun was just burning the horizon with orange and yellows. It was peaceful. The wind was gentle and smelled faintly of something sweet, and a street musician was playing faintly in the background. Atsushi was the only one here, as far as he knew. And he had gotten through a substantial amount of the work he had been avoiding, and he had secretly raided Ranpo’s snack drawer(although based on how it wasnt locked like it usually was, Atsushi wouldn't be surprised if the man left it open for him as an apology).

Atsushi leaned back in his chair, stretching. He might as well go to the corner store and get some dinner, maybe replace a few of Ranpo’s snacks while he was at it. The wind caressed his face as he closed the door behind him, tossing his hair gently around, letting the longer strands tickle his cheeks. It was a good temperature, not too cold and not too warm and the sun splashed a pretty sunset over the horizon. Golden hour light highlighted the world, casting it in a brilliant ethereal glow. It was nice to get out of the office for a minute, to walk through the streets, busy with people on their way home from work, and simply stretch for a minute. 

He's turning the corner to the supermarket when he spots it, the cute little bento shop right next door, with a big red ‘buy one get one free!’ sign, and he’s never really been one to resist a good sale. The bell tinkles as he enters the shop, the only other customer, a giggly couple in the corner, barely pay him mind as he walks to the counter. The woman working the register smiles brightly at him. 

“Hi cutie, what can I getcha?” Atsushi can't help the red that scrawled across his cheeks, he’s still not used to compliments. The woman is pretty too, and while these days Atsushi’s type is a little different, he can at least admit she’s pretty. Dazai would probably ask her for double suicide. “Um, I'll take the Katsu Bento please!” The woman, whose name tag reads Akiko nods, tapping away at the register with her long acrylic nails. “Oh yeah!” Akiko looks up. “We're actually offering a discount right now. If you try our new pickles we give 50% off! What do ya think, sweety?” Atsushi’s nodding before he can even think properly. “I'll take it. I also saw you guys have a buy one get one free deal right now?” Akiko nods, smiling. “Yep, so you want two Katsu bento’s with the new pickles. That’ll be 200¥.” Atsushi hands over the coins with a smile, and the woman slides his bentos across the counter. She tosses him a wink as he leaves. “Enjoy baby.” 

The bell tinkles as he leaves, the breeze welcomes him back into the dusk. The sun has sunk a little more, but still peaks over the horizon, as if it longs to stay for one more hour. Birds chirp and leaves spin through the air and a little girl runs past him, chasing a runaway balloon. The afternoon is perfect, but almost two perfect and Atsushi’s almost waiting for Akutagawa to jump out of the shadows and threaten him with a few amputated limbs. But he makes it all the way back to the Agency without any notable accidents. 

The Agency is no longer empty when he gets back, the president is sitting on the brown leather couch by the door, flipping through a book. And Atsushi hates how his heart speeds up a little bit when he sees him. He looks unfairly dignified and attractive as he flips through his book, looking up and meeting Atsushi’s eyes. “There you are, Atsushi, I was wondering where you had gone off two.” Atsushi pointedly ignores his flushed cheeks and speeds up heart rate and holds up the to-go bag. “Went out to grab some dinner. Would you like one sir? I have an extra bento.” The President closes his book with a nod. “I would like one, thank you.” 

◈◈◈

The bento Atsushi hands him is lovely, with one side of rice with a rather generous piece of Katsu sliced across it. There are three different types of sides, including a lovely cucumber salad, a pickled leaf that looks a bit like perilla, and a little mochi for dessert. He gratefully takes the chopsticks Atsushi hands him, giving the boy a grateful smile. The little flush on his face is charming. “This looks delicious, Atsushi. Tell me how much I owe you.” Atsushi unwraps his own chopsticks, a bashful little smile curved across his face. “Oh don't worry about it, it was a buy one get one free deal. They also gave me a 50% off discount if I tried their new pickles.” He uses a chopstick to pick one of the leaves out, taking a bite. “Oh, these are good.” Fukuzawa takes a bite of one and finds he does not care for the taste at all. It has a distinctly mint like flavor, but strangely not and because of the pickling, kind of bitter. He scoops his into Atsushi’s bento. Atsushi sends him a grateful little smile. 

The rest of the Bento is delicious, and Fukuzawa digs in as they talk. “You know Atsushi.” Fukuzawa starts out, “You have been doing exceptionally well with your jobs lately.” The flush that takes his cheeks is adorable, and Fukuzawa can't help the thought, exceptionally cute. The boy has always been susceptible to praise. “You don't have to say that, Sir.” Fukuzawa shakes his head. “No, I mean it. And your suggestion to team up with the mafia proved a very good one.” And, although he won't say this part, he likely would have not thought of it himself, or even if he had, he would have disregarded the thought. He didn't want to think too hard about the reason he even thought properly about it in the first place. The boy smiles bashfully at the praise, his whole body practically singing with joy, his ears and tail flicking happily—

Wait, a tail and ears? Fukuzawa looks again, just in case he hallucinates in his old age. Sure enough, two ears have sprouted on the boy's  head, and a tail flicks behind him, wagging slightly. Fukuzawa frowns. While it's admittedly kind of adorable, and his hands are itching to stroke the soft white fur, he should probably tell him. But he really doesn't want to. Atsushi is sure to put them away then, and they're just so cute! Fukuzawa really, really wants to pet them, maybe run his hands through Atsushi’s soft hair while he’s at it. 

Atsushi still hasn't noticed the ears, and is happily munching away at those new pickles. He seems to really like them, it's almost charming how he chomps away happily, a little smile curved across his face. Those leaves look strangely familiar though, but Fukuzawa just can't place them…

“Um Sir? Is something wrong?” Those eyes are looking at him, and Fukuzawa realizes he's staring. He shakes his head, clearing thoughts of petting Atsushi out of his head. He really should just tell him about the ears, as much as he doesn't want to. He opens his mouth, ready to tell all, but he never gets the chance because suddenly Atsushi is gone, replaced by a huge white tiger. The change is almost instantaneous, and although Fukuzawa should be scared, he really isn't because the tiger looks less fearsome and more just adorable as it pads around the table, pouncing on the couch and laying its head in Fukuzawa’s lap. Fukuzawa almost melts, because his lap is full of giant Atsushi kitty and he just has to stroke him.

The fur is as soft as he imagined, and a deep pur rumbles out of Atsushi Kitty, the vibrations rattling him and the couch. The massive cat nuzzles his hand, almost begging for more pets. With joy, Fukuzawa obliges. 

The ring of his phone cuts through the calm of the room. Atsushi Kitty’s ears flick slightly as Fukuzawa removes one hand to answer. It's Dazai. 

“Yo, Boss? Is Atsushi with you?” 

Fukuzawa chuckles, “Yes, in a manner of speaking.”

“Uh, ok. Well, he’s not picking up his phone.” Dazai sounds like he’s barely holding back laughter. “I forgot to tell him that he should not get the Bento’s from that place down the street.” 

Fukuzawa’s blood runs cold. “Why?”

“You sound panicked.” Dazai sounds far too pleased. “Don't worry, it's nothing bad. They have a few deals and you know how Atsushi can't resist those.” 

Dazai says it's nothing but ice cold panic still runs through Fukuzawa’s veins. 

“Anyway, they have a new pickle that he shouldn't eat.” He hears a commotion on the line, and then Dazai’s voice is replaced by Kunikida. “President? Yes, Dazai was dallying so i'll just tell you.” 

“What's wrong with the pickles?” Fuuzawa tries to steady his voice, but an embarrassing tremor is still there. Fukuzawa can almost hear Kunikida frowning through the phone. “He ate them, didn't he?” 

“Yes”

Fukuzawa can hear giggling in the background, probably Dazai. Kunikida continues. “Don't worry, they aren't poisonous. I talked to the lady down the street and she said it is a new strain of catnip they’ve developed.” 

The panic is gone, replaced by amusement. “I see, well that's not a problem then.” 

“Well, um, you see…” Kunikida sounds almost flustered, and then he's replaced by Dazai again.

“What Kunikida is too flustered to say is that the Catnip acts as a potent aphrodisiac.” Fukuzawa almost chokes, Dazai sounds far too thrilled as he continues. “Apparently, it has no effect on humans, but most cats almost immediately go into a heat of some type.”

“But what effect will it have on Atsushi? He’s technically a tiger.” Fukuzawa is grasping at straws here, desperately trying to tamp down any inappropriate thoughts. Dazai is replaced, but with Ranpo this time.

“Hey boss, did Atsushi eat all my snacks” 

“Ranpo, I don't think that's our priority right now.”

“Yeah yeah, well the aphrodisiac should have an effect on Atsushi, because of the tiger.” Fukuzawa loves his members, but seriously, he just needs information right now. Ranpo continues. “I'd guess there would be like three stages. One, cat ears and tail, two, full tiger form, and three back to human.” Fukuzawa can faintly hear rustling in the background, and a few muffled giggles.

“He’ll probably go all horny when he’s back in human form.” Ranpo chomps on something, probably some chips. “This is good for you, Boss. you can finally stop lying to yourself—

Fukuzawa hears a commotion in the background again and then Dazai is grabbing the phone. “Don't worry Prez, I'd be happy to come back and take care of him, you don't have to do any—” There’s a smack, and then the line goes dead. 

Fukuzawa is frozen for a moment, truly taking in the information. Apparently, the store down the road decided to mutate a new type of Catnip, specifically for pickles? In his old age, Fukuzawa has truly stopped being surprised by most things but this one, this one almost gets him. The massive tiger on his lap purrs, nuzzling into his hand as he resumes his petting, trying to come up with a game plan for when Atsushi returns to his human form and inevitably ‘goes all horny’. He has, to his knowledge, three options. One, he could call Dazai back and have him ‘deal with it’. This option on the surface seems like a good one, but the thought of Dazai’s hands all over Atsushi makes a weird feeling start in his chest.(he knows it's jealousy, but he can't admit it, even just to himself.) Option two is to take care of it himself. And, although it's the most attractive option, that one is out of the question. He has grown much too old to be messing around like that, especially with a much younger employee. 

The third option is quickly looking to be his only option, to simply wait it out and do nothing. And in the end, its the only option he really has.(In the back of his mind, Fuykuzawa prepares himself for the battle of a lifetime, because he’s not sure what's going to happen when Atsushi returns to human form, but he can certainly imagine it. Atsushi’s pretty flushed face, his lips parting in moans and whimpers, his flushed chest covered in pretty hickeys, his voice panting out that stupid appellation the boy likes to use, “Oh, Fukuzawa Sir, it feels so good. Oh oh oh—)

His phone ringtone startles Fukuzawa out of his thoughts. Atsushi’s ears flick in displeasure as Fukuzawa removes his hands, answering the call. 

“Yo Prez.” Dazai sounds thrilled. “We got some info.”

“I see.” The massive tiger in his lap is purring again, and Fukuzawa almost melts into a puddle of sappy joy. Dazai chuckles. 

“Apparently, you have a couple options.” Dazai says. “One, pardon my french, you fuck it out of him.” Fukuzawa clears his throat, hoping to clear his mind of all the images that conjured up. Dazai continues, sounding much too amused. “Two, ask Lucy to do it. Or three, I'm still available to come home and do it for you.”

“Can I not just wait it out?” Fukuzawa hates the green monster of jealousy that rears its ugly head at the mention of Dazai or even Lucy ‘dealing with it’. 

“Nope.” Dazai replies. “Apparently if you let it go he could get seriously injured. I dunno, I wasn't listening to the specifics.”

A small silence descends upon the two men on the phone, before Dazai speaks up once more. “So Prez, can I do it?” Fukuzawa doesn't like how excited he sounds, positively gleeful. “Put Ranpo on please.”

“Yeah, yeah. You know, maybe this is good. You can finally stop lying to yourself and we at the office can stop seeing Atsushi’s abandoned little puppy eyes every time you enter the room—”

A commotion sounds on the other side of the phone, but Fukuzawa doesn't really notice because it's at this moment that the fur on the giant tiger recedes, leaving behind a sleeping boy, head still nestled on Fukuzawa’s lap. 

“Yo, boss? Did Atsushi eat all my snacks? I left to drawer open as an apology for leaving him there, but i only did it because i thought he would be too polite to eat them all—”

“Ranpo, is that really our priority right now?” Fukuzawa isn't proud of how his voice shakes slightly.

“Geez, ok. Did you need something?” Fukuzawa can actively hear Ranpo’s eye roll. “Cause we were just stopping at the store to get a snack refill.”

Fukuzawa is truly tempted to roll his eyes. “Atsushi is asleep right now. How long until the aphrodisiac kicks in.”

“I dunno, maybe ten minutes.” Ranpo says. “You should probably take him back to the dorms.”

“But i don't intend—” “Yeah sure, whatever you say.” And with a beep, the line goes dead. With a sigh, Fukuzawa gently hoists a still sleeping Atsushi into his arms, and starts the trek back to the dorms.

◈◈◈

Dusk has fallen, the sun has all but vanished over the horizon and a thousand stars paint the sky, He only gets a few strange looks on the way home, but it's clear that the people of Yokohama have long since grown used to the strange happenings around the Agency building and he gets back to the dorms, and into Atsushi’s apartment with no problems. It's only once he's stepped inside, when he’s set Atsushi gently on the floor and is rummaging around for the futon when he truly asks himself what he’s planning to do once the boy wakes up. And when he’s settling Atsushi gently on the futon, and is sitting beside it, he tries his best to think of a solution, any solution besides the one that's screaming at him. But he fails, and as he stands, ready to get Dazai and live with the jealousy, he feels a hand on his Yukata, pulling him to a stop, and he meets the hazy eyes of Atsushi Nakajima, awake but not totally lucid.

Truthfully, as soon as he meets those eyes, hazy with lust and slipping, he knows he's done for. But he still holds out hope that he can at least try to resist. He can at least tell himself that he’s going to stand up and leave the boy, and call Dazai. But he’s always been a stubborn man, at least to himself, and he does his best to shake Atsushi’s hand off gently. The younger boy has pulled himself into a sitting position, and is lazily undoing his tie with one hand, the other still hooked on the hem of Fukuzawa’s Yukata. “Sir, I feel so hot.” His voice is a calculated seduction, each movement, from the flick of his wrist as he pulls his tie from his neck, to the low lidded eyes and fluttering eyelashes is precisely calculated to wear down the walls separating his good sense from his dick. 

And yes, Fukuzawa knows that most of this is likely involuntary, but it still works. Too well. Fukuzawa’s green hakama falls to the floor, knocked completely from his shoulders as Atsushi tugs especially hard, and in an effort to twist away, Fukuzawa trips, sprawling to the floor with a crash. He lands on his butt, his hands catching him on the way down, and Atsushi’s on him in a flash, crawling towards him along the floor. Frukuzawa grabs his shoulders, stopping him before he can do anything drastic. And puts up his last line of defense.

“Atsushi, do you, as well as you can, consent to this?” Atsushi is undoing more and more buttons, still gazing at him with those lust blown eyes. He nods, tugging gently on the hem of Fukuzawa’s Yukata. “Yes, Sir.” That address, that darn address makes his dick twitch in his pants, coming to life with a furry. Maybe it's because of the (substantial) age gap, or maybe because it's just Atsushi, but Fukuzawa knows he will never be able to hear it the same way again. 

He wants to kiss him, he wants to press his lips to Atsushi’s own and caress him gently and take his time, but he feels like he doesn't have the right to. He feels, that he already has the privilege of touching Atsushi, because even though the boy seems to hold some affection for him, he’s still his boss, and a much older man, and its natural for Atsushi, a boy who had previously had no one to rely on but himself, to develop a crush on an older source of comfort in his life. And it should be Fukuzawa’s job to gently rebuke the boy's affections, and watch him fall for more suitable people like Lucy(and not Dazai, because that green monster of jealousy is rearing its ugly head once again.) He feels almost like he’s stealing something precious, something he can never return. And so, instead of kissing Atsushi, he flips the shorter boy over, letting him lay lewdly on his stomach, his ass pointed in the air. It's much more raunchy and dirty, and much less intimate, making him much less likely to get overwhelmed by his swiftly growing feelings and say something useless. 

He takes the time to properly undo his Yukata and underlayer, folding them neatly if only to prove how sane and controlled he is right now, and when he looks back, he's greeted by the sight of a mostly naked Atsushi, grinding his hips down against the futon covering. Fukuzawa can feel his dick jump to hardness, because it's quite a pretty sight. The boy is thin, a small waist tapering into surprisingly wide hips and round little butt. Usually, he would take his time, maybe gently caress the boy and press kisses to those shoulders, but he just needs to fuck the Catnip out of his system, and hopefully avoid any awkwardly intimate things like hickeys and i love you’s(if only for his own sanity and integrity as an employer). 

He highly doubts the boy has lube, and so he does the next best thing. He spits in his hand, lubing up his cock the best he can, under the circumstances. He lines his cock head up with Atsushi’s hole, stopping just one more time to check.

“Are you sure Atsushi? I could call Dazai—” Atsushi takes the decision out of his hands by gripping Fukuzawa’s cock, and gently shoving the head into his hole. Atsushi’s back arches, and a whimper exits his mouth, a whimper of Fukuzawa’s name and that stupid, sensual ‘sir’. Fukuzawa isn't proud of how he shoves the rest of the way in, gripping Atsushi’s waist with a groan. It's been a long time, too long, apparently. “Feel good?” He says as he begins to move, pulling out all the way and back in, in long, slow thrusts. “Yes, ohh Sir!” Atsushi’s hands are tangled in the Futon cover, head turned to the side, hair splayed across the blue comforter in a striking contrast. 

He looks heavenly and sinful and Fukuzawa doubts he’ll be able to erase the image of Atsushi beneath him for a long, long time. His moans are pretty, just as pretty as his eyes, that beautiful vertical heterochromia, those gorgeous colores, the color of the sunset sky. A sunset sky overcast with the clouds of lust and devotion. His hole is tight and pulsing, hugging Fukuzawa’s cock in a warm welcome, almost telling him to never leave, to fuck this pretty boy forever, to love this boy forever. Fukuzawa can feel himself getting sappy, because he’s a weak, sappy old man and he can't help it. 

Somehow, all his protests before have vanished all at once. Maybe he’s too far gone, too enamored with the boy and his pretty body to lie to himself anymore. Maybe, he considered as he leaned down, pressing Atsushi’s body into the mattress, letting his strokes speed up as the boy moaned his name once more, maybe this really was a good thing, a blessing in disguise as his colleagues had suggested. 

“Ohh oh sir, I'm cumming!” Fukuzawa gives up on not being sappy, and tangles his hands with Atsushi’s, grinding his hips deep inside the boy as he cums, letting himself go not soon after. And, as he cleans the boy up a little and pulls the futon covers over his sleepy form, he lets himself seriously consider courting Atsushi, and gives the Bento box a five star review.

(And he never did hear Sir the same way again, every time Atsushi uttered the word it reminded him of that night, and made him flush in a business meeting. )

End Notes: Also, did you know that technically, catnip counts as an aphrodisiac when promoting cat mating? Well i didn't, and i learned it when i had to do research for this fic man. Also tigers don't really respond to catnip, but now they do because I said so.(and because i made up a mutation of it)

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