#of the owner(s)'' sitting in the middle

[onethousxndvoices]

so i started playing prsk and noticed some similarities from another game i love

[writersdrug]

Bartender Simon when a customer yells at reader for a mistake?

I love the way you guys think LOVE keep em comin!!

It starts when he's restocking his bar, carrying crates with fruit, bitters, coasters, and straws. He comes down from the pantry upstairs to a decently relaxed lunch crowd, when he hears the second half of the customer's tantrum.

"You expect me to eat this?! It's bloody raw!"

"I'm so sorry, I can take it back aga-"

"You already did that - went to the kitchen and stuck it under the warmer for a few seconds and thought I wouldn't notice, huh?"

"No sir, I gave it to the che-"

"I don't want to hear fucking excuses, just go fix my damn burger. I'm paying for this shit, aren't I? And you're working for my tip. So fucking work, cunt."

Humiliation isn't enough to describe what you feel - there isn't a strong enough word for it. Claiming you're a liar, saying you grovel for tips, yelling at you in front of your other tables, calling you a cunt - it makes your eyes sting with oncoming tears, staring at him and using every muscle in your jaw to keep from spitting insults back at him. You want to throw the food in his face, but instead, you grab his plate and storm off to the kitchen before he can see you cry.

The man scoffs, looking at his watch. "Fuckin' great..."

Simon's still standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding his crates and staring daggers at the man. He knows what it's like, being berated by customers. He says "that's customer service for ya" and moves on. But for this wanker to berate you - he sees red. He sees his next target.

He swiftly crosses the restaurant floor, boots thudding against the old wood as he drops his crate behind the bar. Soap's already yelling about the asshole when he pushes his way into the kitchen.

"Order it fuckin' rare and ye get fuckin' rare, bloody clipe- talkin' mince, bawface bastard-" he slams the burger back onto the grill with a tense arm, continuing to grumble as it sizzles. "Cookin' ye a nice strip o' shoe leather-"

You're sitting on an overturned crate, sobbing into your hands, pen and notepad on the ground beside you. Price is on one knee, one arm around your shoulder and the other on your leg - you'd never officially met the owner of the pub, but now was as good a time as any, you suppose.

"Wot happened?" Is all that Ghost could say without going off on a rampage. He's saving that for later.

"He fucking embarrassed me, that's what happened!!" You snap, looking up at Simon. Your eyes are red and puffy after only crying for a minute or two, cheeks wet from your tears. You hug your arms around your middle and choke on a sob. "Told me his fucking burger wasn't cooked, so I sent it back- then he tries to say I never even gave it to Soap?! Calls m-me a cunt in front of my tables?! Make me fucking work for his money - I don't want his goddamn money!!"

Price shushes you, worrying your anger might be leaking through the kitchen door - he doesn't want the same customer to hear you bad-mouthing him, although it's rightfully deserved. He rubs your back gently as you drop your head into your hands again, shoulders shaking as you cry.

Simon's seething - he's already moving before his brain can catch up, still stuck on the picture of your teary face. He marches behind the line and reaches across Soap, picking the burger right off the grill.

Soap makes a shocked sound. "Ye gone mad, LT?!"

"Table six?" Ghost asks, holding the sizzling burger patty in his hand, grease dripping onto his forearm.

You stare between his face and the patty - your crying stopped, your face now replaced with a stupefied expression. "Uh- yeah."

And like that, he's off; he shoves himself back out onto the floor and makes his way towards the customer who yelled at you. The burger burns his hand, but he doesn't even notice the pain. He drops it onto the table in front of the man, who yelps in disgust. "What the fuck-"

"Better?" Ghost says, hands clenching into fists at his sides as he looked down at the man, now stuttering and blubbering in shock. Specks of grease are freckling his white dress shirt.

"Are you- is this a fucking joke?"

"It's your fuckin' burger."

"I can't believe this-"

"Then get the fuck out my pub." Ghost growls; he grabs the man by his arm, ripping his blazer off the back of his chair, and drags him to the front door. The other customers look with wide eyes as he busts the door open with his shoulder and throws the man onto the sidewalk. He wheezes as he hits the ground, and Ghost throws his blazer at him next.

"If I ever see your face in 'ere after this, 'm throwin' you out again and keepin' your bullocks as a fuckin' souvenir."

The man stares at him, flabbergasted, as Ghost walks back inside. People are focused on their meals now, heads down and pretending they didn't see Simon body a man to the ground - the guy deserved it, after all.

Simon huffs, picking up the burger from the now-empty table. His hand stings a bit, but he has years of callouses built up to keep any real burns from settling in. He gently kicks the chair back into place and starts heading back to the kitchen, when he sees you.

You're staring at him with wide, wet eyes, standing in the entryway to the kitchen and mouth slightly ajar in awe. You've fully stopped crying, but there are still tears on your face from before. Eyeliner and mascara are smudged a bit, but it only makes Simon's fondness for you blossom.

He gently nudges your shoulder with his elbow as he pushes past you. "Take a fifteen. I'll watch your tables."

You stare after him as he throws the burger into the trash, grabbing a fresh towel and wrapping his hand. Wide back facing you as he looks at Soap, who stares at him with a frustrated sigh.

You're horny now. Horny for Simon - and you're definitely relaying this entire shebang to your friends tonight.

[catsukkii]

Prohero!katsuki — with florist reader

IN WHICH… katsuki was Inlove with a girl at the flower shop, ever since his mom brought him when he was little. He was always a bully to her because he couldn’t process his emotions. Eventually, he went to UA Highschool and moved on to become a pro-hero, leaving them no time to talk and leaving on bad terms, katsuki comes home for the holidays and tries to fix things, but damn she got even prettier.

Pairing; Katsuki bakugo x Afab!reader (she/her.)

Content contains; fem!reader, fluff fluff fluffy, swearing, cheesy love stuff, mentions of katsuki being a dick when he was younger, I think that’s it (lmk if u notice anything else!)

Word count; 1.6k

A/N; WOWOWOWO I got carried away I’m so sorry nobody’s gonna read ts LMAOO

Prohero!katsuki whos smitten with the cute girl who owns a flower shop, his mom used to visit it all the time when he was young, always buying potted plants and pretty flowers to decorate around the house, he always thought the owners daughter was pretty but of course he was a little shit when he was younger and was mean to her.

Prohero!katsuki who knows he was a dick when he was younger, he’s still repairing old relationships since middle school like izuku, he wants to build a relationship with you, but he figured you were off doing something for yourself at this point.

Prohero!katsuki who visits his mom back at home for the holidays, getting to spend time with family. His mom was decorating the house and wanted some pretty red poinsettias for the holiday spirit, of course she would have to visit her favorite florist shop.

“katsuki! do you remember that old florist shop we used to go to when you were just a small thing?” she speaks while putting some garland up, katsuki putting up some christmas collectibles on the shelfs, he froze once he heard this but quickly shook it off.

“yeah ma, I do. you’d drag me there all the damn time.” he rolls his eyes at the memory as she glared at him.

“you were so mean to that little girl! I remember having to yell at you so many times…” she tuts and shakes her head thinking back on the boys antics when he was younger, he has grown a lot and she’s seriously proud of him even if she doesn’t always say it.

“yeah…I know.” he grumbles out lowly, sighing to himself.

“yknow, her mother got to old to run the shop so she’s took over,” katsuki paused his movements at this, gears immediately turning in his head. “I want some red poinsettias, like we always got for the holidays. Why don’t you go get them so you can apologize to the poor girl? she runs the shop all herself now, and she asks about you sometimes.”

she explains finishing up the garland she was wrapping around various things. You asked about him? why? surely it couldn’t of been anything good, you were probably praying on his downfall and with good reason unfortunately.

Prohero!katsuki who immediately takes her up on her offer, she always knew katsuki was smitten with the girl, so it was a little bit of a scheme on her part. He drives over, his luxury car looking silly among your little mint green beetle car in the parking lot.

Prohero!katsuki who sits in his car for atleast 10 minutes contemplating what the fuck he would even say to you. he eventually gets the courage and strides in, seeing you sit with a bored expression twirling a pen in your hand. You got even prettier over the years, he can feel his face flush but he quickly shakes it off. He’s merely here because he was mean to you and wanted to rekindle a friendship, not some cheesy love story.

Prohero!katsuki who walks up to the counter with a gruff expression, crossing his arms and mumbling “red poinsettias…” you look up at him with confusion, barely understanding him.

“excuse me? sorry I couldn’t he—“ your jaw dropped at the sight, fucking katsuki bakugo was here after all these years..and jeez was he hot. He grew to a good 6’ at least and Jesus was he STRONG.

“…katsuki?” You question with a gasp, immediately turning your slouch into sitting straight up.

Prohero!katsuki who clears his throat and speaks up, “yeah…hey y/n.” he sheepishly looked around and scratched the back of his neck, he didn’t know if he could handle looking into your pretty eyes anymore.

Prohero!katsuki who cant help the smirk that crawls onto his face once you smile brightly up at him.

“omg katsuki! It’s been years— holy shit you’ve grown so much!?” you blurt out various realizations and stand up from behind your register, walking out from behind the counter with your hands on your hips, ready to catch up for the time missed.

Prohero!katsuki who is slightly overwhelmed by your greeting, grateful? yes. confused? also yes. how could you not hate him after he was a total dick? then again you truly were the sweetest girl no matter what. You never snapped back at katsuki when you were young, only crying.

Prohero!katsuki who gets a smug look when you talk about how strong and tall he’s gotten. “you’ve grown alot aswell.” he smiles down at you, before averting his gaze to look at his shoes and avoid eye contact at all costs.

“I can’t believe you’re a hero now! I only got to hear about you through your mom, I’ve been to busy trying to keep the shop from closing I haven’t had time for anything else.”

he frowned at this, it must be alot for a young girl like you to handle all by yourself.

“We barely have business and your moms probably the only reason the store hasn’t been closed yet…”

his frown grew evidently wider, you barely have business anymore? you guys had the best shop! that’s why his mother loved it so much! It was cheap, the quality was beautiful, and the service was excellent! how could you be falling out of business?

Prohero!katsuki who wears a look of pity for you for the first time in years. he sighs before looking at you and speaking,

“that sucks, I think you’re the best shop, sorry these extras can’t see that.”

it caught you off guard to hear him so sympathetic, you can’t help but let out a giggle at the irony of his drastic change over the years. you push his shoulder lightly,

“look at you being all nice and sympathetic! the katsuki I last saw would rather die then feel bad for me!” you smiled up at him brightly.

“yeah about that…” he trails off with a sigh. “I kind of came to apologize. I was dumb as a kid and…just a dick for my own personal reasons, but it’s not an excuse when you were nothing but nice to me. I’ve grown a lot and I’m still fixing relationships from back then so uhh..I’m sorry.” he finishes his speech and it makes you frown at his heartfelt words.

“awww…katsuki!” You rush over to him and wrap your arms around him tightly, he stiffens at first but eases into it and loosely wraps his arm around you with a breathy laugh.

“yeah yeah…you were always an emotional shit.” despite his sass he has a wide grin on his face, you pull away from the hug and roll your eyes, a few seconds of silence goes by before it hits you.

“the poinsettias!” you facepalm and rush around the store to where the pretty red flowers were potted, you grabbed the pot and brought it back to the counter where katsuki was waiting.

Prohero!katsuki who watches you intently as you work, “so do you want them potted or just the flower?” you ask simply. “I don’t know what the fuckin’ hag wants.” he replies with a scoff as if you asked him the most preposterous question.

“katsuki! be nice! she’s a wonderful lady..” he rolls his eyes at you and grunts. “I’ll just give you some of both, on the house seriously.” he scowls at you and shakes his head.

Prohero!katsuki “none a’ that shit.” you laugh at his antics, grabbing a knife to cut the stems. “seriously katsuki, we never get business. I’m probably gonna have to put all of these in our already very crowded garden if they don’t sell anyway.” you explain continuing your work on the flowers.

Prohero!katsuki who ponders for a moment before ultimately speaking up and deciding, “alright give me 10. I’ll double the price.” before you can even try to argue he’s pulling out his wallet, causing your jaw to drop and you quickly spin around to fully meet his gaze.

“nono! katsuki seriously it’s fine! I don’t wanna do that especially after all your moms done for the store.”

he gives you the meanest glare he can muster and just continues to ignore you and pull out money, you sigh but are grateful nonetheless. You grab some more of the flowers from their section, equally dividing it to be 5 bouquets and 5 pots. you made quick small talk as you worked catching up on eachothers lifes, he couldn’t help but blush just at your mere presence, not that you were any better off, you couldn’t look at him without your eyes drifting to his muscular body. you hand him the pretty flowers and offer to help load them into his car, he only accepts to talk to you longer if we’re being honest.

Prohero!katsuki who just doesn’t wanna say goodbye yet. “hey uh..I know ma wouldn’t mind if you went for dinner with us, if you don’t got plans that is.” he mumbles and glances around overwhelmed with nerves at your possible rejection.

Prohero!katsuki who lights up when you excitedly scream, “oh my gosh yes! thank you that’s so sweet..” and offers you a ride there, promising to bring you back after dinner so you can get your car and drive home.

Prohero!katsuki who is already smitten with the cute florist girl once again, and gets relentlessly teased by his mother when he walks through the door with her.

Prohero!katsuki who seriously hopes a sweet girl like you will welcome him back into your life, he’ll even help promote your shop if you let him. he just wants the cute florist girl to be just as down bad as he is.

a/n; guys pls this is cute (I think.) give it a chance…

[beeing1alive]

tokyo rev characters with s/o who sleep talks

Note: thank you so much for the fantastic idea :)

Would be shocked the first time because you suddenly started talking nonsense in the middle of the night. Will speak to you in the morning like: Beby…Why did you talk to me in the middle of the night tonight?? You'll have to explain to him that you're talking in your sleep and he's just sitting there slowly understanding what you mean. It doesn't bother him now that he knows everything is fine with you and he doesn't have to worry.

Souya, Hakkai, Takemichi, Takuya, Chifuyu

Listens to you all night, even though he knows you only talk in your sleep. He just fell for your voice, he doesn't care if you're asleep or not. He also doesn't care what incoherent shit you say, he's super happy. He'll probably fall asleep at some point in the morning, relaxed and satisfied by your voice. Will still point it out to you in the morning, just out of respect, but will say straight away that he really enjoyed it. Now looks forward to hearing your beautiful voice every day, even at night when he falls asleep.

Draken, Mitsuya, Inupi, Kakucho, Rindou, Koko, Baji, Taiju, Naoto

Stays up all night talking to you. He knows that you won't remember the conversation in the morning, but he doesn't care. He just finds it too exciting and relaxing at the same time. Sometimes you even answer when he asks you questions, for some reason it's strangely relaxing for him to hear from your deep subconscious that you love him.

Izana, Mikey, Ran, Kazutora, Nahoya

I also wrote other scenarios for them and other characters, so here is my masterlist if you want to check it out <3

My request are open, so if you want to request something, just feel free to leave a comment or send me an request, love you all, have a nice day/night :3

Attention: The characters and the gif do not belong to me. All credits go to the actual owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please write to me.

[purplephantomwolf]

Savoring the Finish Line

Chapter Two

Synopsis: You are a bakery owner. One day Max Verstappen comes into your bakery.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings: Panic attack

Previous Chapter: Chapter One

Masterlist

December 18, 2021

     You rush over to the windows, pulling the blinds down. You don’t think Max wants anyone to see him in this state. After making sure no one can see in, you squat down in front of Max. He’s got his head between his knees and breathing erratically. “Hey, can you look at me, please?” You softly ask. Max doesn’t respond. You gently touch his arm, trying to get his attention. His head jerks up, looking startled. “My name is Y/n. Can I take your hand?” You gently ask. He nods, still struggling with his breathing. “Okay, thank  you. I’m going to help you do what I do when I have panic attacks. Is that okay?” You ask. He nods again, slowly this time. “Okay, thank you,” you smile softly. You sit down next to Max, taking his hand in yours. “Okay, I need you to attempt to breathe in sync with me. I’m going to place your hand on my chest, so it’ll be easier. Is that okay?” You suggest, making sure he’s okay with everything you’re doing. Max attempts to speak while nodding. He doesn’t manage to get anything out yet. “Hey, hey. Don’t attempt to speak yet. Not until you get your breathing somewhat under control,” you shake your head. You lay his hand on your chest, taking deep breaths. You see him starting to take deep breaths. 

     Once you notice Max’s breathing has evened out some, you pull out the next thing you do when you have panic attacks. “Okay, next we’re going to do the 54321 grounding technique. I need you to tell me five things you can see,” you state. Max looks around the bakery. 

     “Uh, tables, you, register, chairs, and the kitchen door,” Max says, slowly looking at everything as he says it. You smile encouragingly. 

     “Good, good. Now can you name four things you can feel?” You encourage him, nodding.

     “Your heartbeat, my coat, the floor, your shirt,” Max lists off, starting to sound more confident. 

     “Okay, now, what are three things you can hear?” You ask. 

     “Your music, ticking of the clock, and-” Max tilts his head, seeming to be listening to things, “Someone talking outside.” 

     “Okay, two things you can smell,” you tell him. 

     “Easy, baked goods and flowers,” he slightly smiles, looking over at the flowers I have along the walls. 

     “Yeah, that’s a pretty easy one when you’re in here,” you laugh. “But last thing, one thing you can taste.”

     “Hmm, is that chocolate I can taste?” He looks around. 

     “Yeah, it is. I have quite a few items on the menu that have chocolate in them,” you laugh, looking at the display. Max grins, looking proud of himself. “Are you feeling better now?” You ask, placing his hand on his knee. 

     “I am, thank you so much,” Max blushes, looking embarrassed. 

     “Of course, I know how bad panic attacks can get when going through them alone. I didn’t want to make you do that. Now, when I have my panic attacks, I always feel weak afterwards. Food and a drink always helps me. Would you like something to eat and drink? I think I have some croissants and kouign amanns left, and I can make you some tea or water if you’d like?” You ask, standing up. You hold out your hand to Max, not really expecting him to yes. 

     “If it’s not a hassle to you or anything,” he whispers, taking your hand. You shake your head, helping him up. 

     “I wouldn’t have suggested otherwise. Come on, I was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen, so it;s a bit of a mess still,” you blush, realizing the state of your kitchen. You hear a whine come from the kitchen and your eyes widen. Max looks at you, confused. 

     “What was that?” Max asks, eyebrows knitted. 

     “That would be my two puppies. They hang with me in the kitchen while I clean, but if you’re uncomfortable with that, I can take them upstairs while you’re here,” you say. Max’s eyes light up at the mention of your puppies. He violently shakes his head no. 

     “No, no! It’s okay,” he rushes out. 

     “Perfect, they’re sweet, but quite protective of me. They aren’t really around guys, except my employee, Louis. They might take a second to warm up to you. Elise will warm up to you quicker than Lacey, though,” you explain. You walk back to the kitchen, motioning for him to follow you. You push open the door, and Elise and Lacey are immediately running around your feet. You laugh and squat down, petting them. “Max, meet Lacey and Elise. Lacey is the six month old Pitbull, Elise is the year old Golden Retriever,” I explain, pointing to each of them. 

     “Nice to meet you, Elise and Lacey,” he grins, sitting down next to me. Max holds out his hand for the dogs. They slowly walk over to him, sniffing his hand. Lacey takes longer at sniffing his hand than Elise. Elise is currently unsuccessfully trying to climb into Max’s lap. 

     “I’m so sorry! She thinks she’s still lap dog size,” you rush to pull Elise off of him. Max places an arm around her and lifts her into his lap. He smiles up at you, shaking his head, gently swatting your hands away. “Alright, alright. What would you like to eat and drink? I have croissants, pain au chocolat, kauign amann, and macarons, water, and tea,” you list off, looking at all your leftovers on the kitchen counter. 

     “Just a croissant and water, if it’s not too much of a hassle,” he mumbles, distracted by playing with Lacey. You grin at the sight, walking over the croissants. You quickly plate a couple, before getting a glass of cold water. 

     “You might want to put the food on the counter and stand to eat. The puppies will attempt to steal your food otherwise,” you laugh, setting the plate and water on a counter. Max lifts Elise off of him and stands up, walking over to the plate. You get back to cleaning the kitchen as he takes his first bite. 

     “This is delicious,” you hear him say. You peak over your shoulder to see his eyes wide, staring at the croissant. 

     “Thank you,” you mumble, continuing cleaning to avoid him seeing you blush. 

     Max clears his throat, and you turn to look at him. “So, I know you’re probably not my biggest fan, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about the panic attack. I normally don’t have them, I just got super overwhelmed with some things,” he says, picking at the croissant. 

     Your eyebrows knit in confusion. “Why do you think I’m not your biggest fan?” You ask. You immediately start going through your interaction, trying to see when you said or did something that would tell him that. Max looks up at you, before pointing at your shirt. You look down, and your eyes widen. “Merde, of course I’m wearing this when I meet you,” you groan. “I promise you, I am not a Lewis or Mercedes fan; I’ve been a Red Bull fan since they entered F1. My dad got me this when Lewis was absolutely dominating, trying to convince me to switch teams. I only wear it when I clean, hence all the stains you see on it,” you explain, blushing. 

     Max smiles, “Okay. Good to know I’m not eating in the enemy's kitchen then.” You laugh, shaking my head. 

     “I won’t tell anyone about the panic attack,” you say, grabbing out some supplies to make the dough for tomorrow's croissants. “Do you want to talk about what caused the panic attack? I know talking helps me a lot, but I get that I’m a stranger, so I understand if you don’t want to talk,” you say, looking at him. Max seems to contemplate this for a minute. 

     “No, I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it. Thank you, though,” he shakes it. You plop the dough into a bowl, putting it into the fridge for tomorrow. You wash my hands, before turning to him. 

     “Alright, sounds good. Do you need more water?” You ask, noticing his empty water cup. 

     “No thank you, I think I should get going. Let you get back to your cleaning,” Max says, bending down to pet Lacey. Elise whines, running up to you, wanting attention. You laugh and squat down, petting her. 

     “Okay, well, you’re always welcome back. We’re open from 6 am to 8 pm. Always got to promote the business,”you grin. Max lets out a loud laugh, straightening up. His shoulders shake with laughter, and you grin proudly. 

     “Of course, of course. The croissants were delicious. I will be back to try other things. Do you make them all yourself?” He asks, leaning against the counter. 

     “Yeah, I make all the food myself. I have an older couple that I employ that work the front,” you smile. 

     “That’s amazing. I’ll definitely come back to try other things,” he nods, “My trainer is going to hate me.” You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head. 

     “Better not be eating too much then,” you grin, grabbing his plate and cup. You clean and dry them, putting them up. You can feel Max’s eyes on you as you do this. You turn to him when you’re done. 

     “Thank you for the help with calming me down,” he mumbles, turning red and rubbing the back of his neck. 

     “Of course, it is honestly not a problem. I had someone teach me the 54321 grounding technique and it’s been a life saver,” I shrug. 

     “I’ll have to remember it for if I’m in this situation again,” Max nods. You nod, heading to the front of the store. You grab your cleaning supplies, getting ready for the tough job of cleaning the front. Max follows after you, Lacey and Elise hot on our heels. You start to wipe down the tables as Max watches. After a couple moments of silence, he sighs. “I should get going now, thank you so much for everything tonight,” he says. He starts to walk towards the front door. 

     “Of course, any time. Have a good night, Max,” you smile, following him. 

     “You as well, Y/n,” Max smiles back, before leaving. You make sure to lock the door after him. You look down at Lacey and Elise running around your feet. 

     “What an interesting night,” you mumble. You quickly finish your cleaning. You feel your fighting to stay open, meaning it’s bedtime. You drag yourself up the stairs.

     Once you’re upstairs, you grab a quick bite to eat before starting your nighttime routine. Once done with that, you slide under the covers. Elise and Lacey jump up onto the bed with you, snuggling in for the night. You fall asleep cuddling with them, not believing how your night went.

Next Chapter: Chapter Three

[thegnomelord]

Okay fuck after reading @killerkillerkillher 's fic with demon Soap and Price, and angel Ghost and Gaz, it got my own brain worms multiplying (as if I don't have enough going on lol) so here's the au draft that's been rotting for a while lol.

So here's an idea for an au:

Reader is part of a small group of friends that are Ghost hunters/DIY exorcists (read: They're all drop out college students and the ghost hunting youtube channel's putting food on the table). Reader doesn't believe in the supernatural but the friends keep reader around because you're the group's 'ghost deterrent' because spirits GTFO when reader's near and reader thinks the friends are just bullshitting you.

Anyway the group are moving to a bumfuck town in the middle of nowhere where an old haunted house the reader's grandmother left is. Then their pos car breaks down an hour away from town. 'Luckily' the town's mechanic, Johnny, was just driving by and helps you lot out. And ain't he a handsome devil (emphasis on devil) thinking he can con a couple of young and dumb humans out of their souls. Soap's all hooded eyes and husky voice as he lures you away like a lamb to a supply closet, oil darkened hands sliding under your shirt and lips sucking dark hickeys into your throat.

He pulls away when you tug on his mohawk, raising his head until his lips are just inches from your own and you don't even notice him mutter a verbal contract, nor do you understand you've agreed to one when his lips crash on yours like he's drowning.

And Johnny's grinning into the kiss like a loon as he tries to take the soul of the stupid but hot mortal he's just met only to find out he... he can't. No matter how consuming his kisses are or how aroused both of you get your soul sits stubbornly in your chest and doesn't even budge.

When your friend bangs on the door and yells for you to "stop shagging every guy you meet!" you're forced to give an awkward goodbye and scurry away. And Soap's left completely bewildered and confused as fuck wondering what just happened and thinks he needs to tell Price.

Meanwhile, while your car's being fixed up, your friends drag you to the town's only pub that's run by a Simon Riley. He's an intimidating man without trying to be, but he doesn't immediately chase you out like some bar owners. He's quiet, listening to your friends chatter while cleaning a glass rough scarred hands, but the way he looks at you is... odd. Like you're an interesting bauble he's found on his gran's shelf.

He's there to catch you when you trip on a raised floorboard you swear wasn't there before. "Thanks, I owe you one." You say with a small awkward laugh, though for some reason it feels like him catching you had been an excuse to touch you.

"That so?" His thumb traces the dark hickeys across your throat, surprisingly soft, and you can feel your cheeks getting hot. "You let Johnny have fun with you?" His chuckle is rich like aged wine, fingers gently pressing down on a hickey; it feels possessive. "You'd let any old thing like me take from you, yeah?" There's something in his words that has a shiver running down your spine, though from apprehension or arousal you're not sure.

"Ye- eh, yeah." You don't know which question you're agreeing with, and you understand the weight of your words, quickly walking away from him before your friends can embarrass you by wolf whistling at you and him. And you completely forget to ask on how he knows it was the mechanic who gave you the hickeys.

With still some time to burn before sun sets you decide to visit the radio station in town, mainly because your friend swears on his life that those are always haunted or have some decrepit old host that knows all the gossip in town. And when you meet the man you had heard softly yet confidently talking on the radio? He's handsome, pretty brown eyes as enticing as his voice, and you're starting to sense a theme with you meeting all these very nice looking men.

But Kyle, or Gaz as he asks you to call him, is a wealth of knowledge to the point you're not sure where the gossip stops and some crumb of truth begins. He talks all the way into the night with you and your gang of amateur ghost hunters, and you see why he is the radio host because his voice is like the song of angels, silk soft on your ears and you feel like you could fall into the best sleep of your life from listening to him.

And all he wants from you in return for his knowledge? "Nothing much mate, just a small favor, I'm sure you'll manage." Kyle leans in and pecks your lips like he's sealing a promise, or a bargain, but that's just you being stupid after getting kissed by the second hot guy today, surely. Gaz already knows he can't just nab your soul, he has ears in every wall in this town, but at least he can put his own claim on you.

Day, for the most part, well spent you and your friends go to the house for a good night's rest. It isn't any good as you're woken up numerous times and by morning you have several broken vases and an exploded lightbulb — everything you explain away as the house being old as fuck, but your friends claim it to be the work of spirits — your friends drag you to the church on the hill at the asscrack of dawn.

And that's how you meet Father Johnathan Price. (Insert devil in church joke here)

He listens to your friends explain the situation, calm and collected, but you swear his eyes stay on you the entire time. "That's quite a predicament." Price hums, offering to bless you and your friends in hopes of protecting you from evil spirits.

You're the last to go, nearly jumping out of your skin when he grips your chin. "Relax my boy." Those words frazzle your brain enough for him to easily pull on your jaw until your mouth opens, his thumb almost playing with your bottom lip. The look in his eyes is dark, the air between you far heavier than it should be between you and a bloody priest. But Price doesn't see anything wrong with this, pressing a thumb down on your tongue and then putting a wafer on your tongue. "There you go, you are now blessed in the name of a lord. Now consume it, my boy."

You obey automatically. You're not quite sure if a communion wafer is supposed to taste so... weird, it has a coppery and peppery taste to it. Almost like spicy blood or something but that's just you being stupid again, especially as you can feel heat burning between your legs.

Sufficiently embarrassed about getting hard at a priest you give an awkward goodbye and leave, trying to fix your pants before your friends see your... problem.

Johnny appears by Price's side in a small flicker of flames and brimstone when you leave, confident smirk on his face. "Ooh, couldn't resist claiming a piece of him fer yourself?" He smirks, nudging Price on his side.

"I suppose he is more interesting than the usual rabble." Price hums, already imagining of how handsome you'd look laying naked on the altar, and how to get you to that point.

Congrats! Now you've got 4 hot dudes trying to take your soul :D

[onlyswan]

summary: in which music waters a wilting flower on a chilly autumn night and jungkook is stuck by the glue onto you.

> idol!jungkook x reader / strangers to lovers / fluff, slight angst / wc: 4.4k

> warnings: mentions of oc’s toxic ex bf, slutshaming, and alcohol

> in which masterlist!

note: the in which couple’s first encounter reveal?! has arrived with a bam cameo at the end <3 recommend reading the ‘first times’ in the masterlist next if you haven’t yet :D as always reblogs and/or feedback are appreciated 🥰 and yes. i love beabadoobee.

—

“sir, will you help me-“ you panic, eyes pleading for help as you look between the door and the owner of the music shop. “i think it’s stuck.”

“oh! of course, of course. i apologize about that.” the middle-aged man, quick to your aid, ducks out of the counter. “i ought to get this thing changed soon. spent a fortune on it but it’s not doing what it’s supposed to do.”

you copy his chuckle, watching him push up the still half-closed door before shoving it open to the side.

“thank you!” you politely bow your head before stepping out.

“come back again next time! i’ll give you a discount!”

“really? a discount? then i have no choice but to come back!” you whine playfully, smiling at the promise of saving money in the future. you present him another bow. “have a good night! close the door now, it’s cold.”

the 90’s love song playing inside becomes muffled when the transparent glass completely shuts out the outside world once again. instead, the lead vocalist’s voice is replaced by a golden and dulcet humming by a stranger.

you scan for the source of the sound, and at once, you discover it when you whip your head to the right. scrolling through his phone, he’s sitting at the far corner of the old wooden bench— the same boy who was paying at the counter when you stumbled into the store. unbeknownst to yourself, your heart skips a beat. you were transported to a field of flowers when you brushed past him, and you met his big brown eyes briefly when he turned to leave.

burdened by the heavy and uneven weight you’re carrying on your shoulders, you decide to rest on the other side of the bench while you wait for a taxi to pass by. you spare a glance at the oversaturated band posters on the off-white wall behind it before sitting down as their audience.

the humming ceases when he feels your presence beside him.

you cautiously set down the padded guitar bag on the ground, securing it in between your thighs, anxious of getting so much as a scratch on the precious instrument. it’s a dear friend’s birthday tomorrow, and you only found the time and the money to purchase her gift today.

you check your wrist watch. 10:13pm. you fell asleep in the library while studying for a test, and because of that, you’re probably going to be home at around midnight. this place is pretty far and secluded, but apparently it’s known for its good and rare finds. you went here with your friend two months ago just to window shop and one of their bass guitars caught her eye. naturally, you couldn’t resist. her birthday gift has to be this. for some reason, it just feels easier to spend money on your loved ones than yourself.

will you even manage to send a birthday message before you pass out to sleep again? god, you hope so.

you feel your empty stomach grumbling angrily, and you’re not sure if it makes a sound or if it’s all just in your muddled head. yup, you missed dinner, too.

“i’m so hungry.” you cry out quietly, resting your forehead on the neck of the guitar.

fine, maybe you subconsciously said it a little louder than quiet. it was a shot in the dark, curious if the stranger beside you would have any sort of reaction. you hope for a glance at most. he has beautiful eyes, ones you almost feel envious of.

“me too.“ the sulky response slips out of his mouth with an exhausted sigh.

the sound of his voice makes you perk up in pleasant surprise, gazing at him with an amused, tight-lipped smile. on the other hand, he stiffens from the realization of what he just did. he stops manspreading, straightening himself up and awkwardly clearing his throat.

“sorry… it was a reflex.”

“it’s okay.” you reassure him with a quick laugh.

you tear your eyes away from him, watching the moths frantically flying under the street lamps. it’s silent for a moment, except for the shop owner’s on-going playlist and the occassional singing of the abundant crickets.

you face him again with a flair of innocence.

“do you want a granola bar?”

he lifts his head to look at you, the screen’s light reflecting on his tan skin, and that grants you the ability to see his breathtaking eyes. there might’ve been countless instances when they hated how small this bench is, most likely a tight fit for three people, but right now, you wouldn’t have it in any other way.

“it’s just that… i’m going to eat it and it feels rude to eat alone knowing you’re hungry, too.”

his teeth sinks in lower lip, contemplating for a few beats before nodding his head. “yeah, sure. i’d like one. thank you.”

you bring out the tupperware from your messenger bag, unfastening the sides open and separating the lid. as your own wordless way of telling him that they’re not poisoned, you grab one first, taking a small bite, before offering the container to him.

“here you go.”

you stifle a cackle when he pulls down the sleeves of his black hoodie as if he’s preparing to eat a whole course meal. he’s so fucking cute, gentle and dainty while picking up the granola bar along with the parchment paper underneath it. that leaves you with three left. you set down the tupperware between the two of you, loosely putting the lid on top.

“huh?” he exclaims with big round eyes, hand hovering over his mouth as he chews. “did you make this?”

the question makes you wince nervously. he didn’t like it? you could’ve sworn it's the best batch you’ve made so far. “uhm, if it tastes good, then i did. if not-”

“no, no. i like it.” he giggles, waving his hand to shoo your worries. “it’s not too sweet, and it’s soft? how did you make it chewy?!”

“oh-” you breathe out a sigh, clutching your chest in relief. “i just follow a recipe i found online! my neighbor gives me honey like every week so i found a use for it.”

“well, it’s really good. thank you.” he gives you a kind smile, scrunching his nose before resuming to eat the snack you spent your sunday night preparing.

and it’s quiet again. you look the other way to hide the proud smile playing on your lips, the fluttering of your unguarded heart raging and stubborn. maybe if you put food in your mouth, you’ll stop talking… not.

“i’m ___.”

he swallows before replying, distinctive dimples near his mouth making an appearance. “i’m jungkook.”

jungkook. it suits him so well. it’s perfect.

“do you play the guitar?“ jungkook asks curiously, motioning at the instrument you’re holding.

“oh, no- i just got this for my friend’s birthday. she’s in a band.” you share with a chuckle. “what about you? what do you need those giant speakers for?”

“ahh, they are big, aren’t they?” he scrunches his nose, glancing at the two boxes beside his feet. “i just figured buying new speakers would motivate me to work on music more.”

“are you a singer?” you gasp dramatically for effect. “or perhaps, a rapper?”

“i mean…” he smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “i guess i can rap, too.”

“that’s cool. i think you have a pretty talking voice, too.”

“aigoo, thank you so much.” he jokingly bends down his torso for a bow, clasping his hands together with the small remaining piece of granola bar in between before taking it in between his teeth.

the harmony of your laughter bleeds through the chilly air, providing your hearts a wave of much needed warmth.

“thank you too. you gave me an idea what to gift my friends next time.”

“speakers?” his face lights up like of a kid unboxing presents beside the christmas tree. you’ve never met anyone who looks this passionate at the mention of the said device— this whole interaction is giving you the urge to dive deeper into the world of music beyond the sphere of being a casual listener. “they’ll love it. it’s the best gift for me personally.”

you tilt your head to the side. “you know a lot about them?”

“hmmm, i don’t know.” he purses his lips as he hums, eyes falling on the ground as he ponders. “they’re important for shows and work so i naturally learn a lot about them… i often look for reviews and new releases. it’s like a hobby?”

“really? then i’m sold. i need you.”

the carelessly casual words escape your mouth before you can think twice.

“need me?” he repeats your word in surprise, pointing at himself.

you disguise yourself with a nod and a coy smile, acting nonchalant as if you’re not screaming inside. you’ve always been this shameless when you have nothing to lose, but he’s just so pretty that you want to learn shit like what his favorite food is and whether your zodiac signs are compatible even though you don’t believe in them.

“help me choose the best speakers to buy, one year from now. i don’t know anything about music at all, so i always have a hard time with gifts.” you’re pouting sadly by the end, your words bearing the weight of truth, albeit you’re also using them as an excuse to glue yourself onto him.

in your mind, five seconds feels like it’s stretching into eternity. he breaks out into a shy grin, playing with the parchment paper left in his hand before folding it over and over again until it becomes the same size as the nail of his thumb. he stuffs it into the pocket of his washed denim jeans.

“okay then, i should help you. give me your number?”

your hands graze each other as you lay hold of his phone, clueless instruments of your and jungkook’s youthful impulses and anticipation.

“do you have other ___’s in your contacts? should i name myself ‘___ from mj’s music box’?” you inquire half-jokingly, raising your eyebrows at him.

”ey, come on. there’s no need for that.” he chortles, staring back at you with an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but you quickly revert your attention to the screen and you don’t notice.

“i don’t think you’ll remember me just by my name a year from now, though.” you mutter to yourself as you tap on the screen. after that, you tap the call button to save his number on your phone as well.

you’re already handing him back his phone when he finally constructs a reply-

“is that so? then make it difficult for me to forget.”

and the air gets robbed from your lungs. it makes you wonder how many hearts he has broke, being this handsome and charming, and if you’ll even drag this out and stick around long enough to find out.

“be careful of your words. i’m pretty competitive.” you playfully taunt him, softly tugging his wrist to put the device on his delicately wide palm. “don’t blame me when i end up being the only person you think about.”

he matches your energy, a cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he shakes his head. “psh, why would i? that doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”

why are you thinking of ways to keep this flowing instead of retreating and coming up with an obvious excuse to leave? as always, you find yourself most liberated when you meet new people, even when you know they’ll only be a fleeting presence in your life, here to leave a stain or a scar. you wish a taxi never arrives. you wish to be left stranded here for the rest night so you can hear him talk about the first song he ever wrote and you can tell him about the stupid song your first boyfriend wrote for you.

but alas, the universe intervenes with your fantasies and the approaching blazing headlights almost blind your blurry eyes.

you wave your hand to hail the taxi, and you smile at jungkook one more time. “time for me to go.”

“oh, okay.”

the vehicle parks infront of the bench. he watches you hurriedly toss the granola bar you never finished into the transparent tupperware, a feeling akin to disappointment gnawing at his guts.

“wait- weren’t you waiting for a taxi, too?” you wonder out loud as you slide the resealed container inside your bag.

“i’m fine, i have a ride. you go take it- oh, oh- let me help you with that-” he stands up abruptly when he sees you struggling to stand up, lifting the guitar to relieve you of the barrier.

“thanks, jungkook.” you laugh airily, getting on your feet, closer to him than you’ve ever been. he’s taller than you originally thought, and it’s hard to ignore the fact that his flexing forearms are veiny… (you have a suspicion that he’s doing it on purpose. the guitar bag isn’t that heavy.) those, paired with that pretty baby face— he’s so manly and so adorable in a way you’ve never seen in anyone else. he’s a beautiful, refreshing sight to behold.

you’re holding your breath, as if that would freeze the hands of the clocks, halt the earth from spinning on its axis because it’s the only way for you to stay without blaming yourself. the love songs haven’t stopped playing, and a slow acoustic sets out to delude you that this is a scene from an indie romance film, a beginning of something beautiful, but it rarely is. it never is.

his bunny teeth sink into his bottom lip, tainting it a darker shade of pink, before his tongue sneaks out to lick it. “you can go inside.” he generously says, slightly raising his arms to gesture at your cherished gift he’s grasping securely.

you only nod in understanding, walking past him and proceeding to open the door to slide into the backseat. you assist him in putting the guitar inside the taxi and over your lap, and you force your brain to shut down before you can speak again and your friskiness gets you into trouble.

“get home safe, ___!” he brightly chirps, waving at you goodbye.

your cheeks are starting to hurt from all the giddy smiles, but you just can’t stop, not when he has this contagious and bubbly expression painted on his face that’s simply impossible not to adore.

“you too, jungkook.”

his meticulous eyes briefly wander around your figure, checking if you’re too close, and then he carefully slams the door shut. you sink into your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat before telling the taxi driver your address.

you don’t want to think too much, so you close your eyes, hoping to get more sleep to recharge your mental and social batteries. unsurprisingly, you grow restless not even five minutes after. the soothing piano ballads faintly playing in the radio aren’t much help either. an infuriated scream hangs on the tip of your tongue, and you bite it down into dust. instead, you dish out your phone from the pocket of your bag to save jungkook’s number… but then the venomous voice of your ex calling you degrading names ranging from ‘an ungrateful, attention-seeking bitch’ to ‘a slut’ after you broke up with him echo in your tumultuous head, and you begin feeling pathetically small and nauseous. for a split moment you find yourself contemplating whether you should just delete it or not. out of guilt or out of fear, maybe both, you’re not quite certain.

what ultimately pull you out from the dark abyss of relentless overthinking are the first notifications you ever receive with his name attached to them.

Jungkook:

hey this is JK

i just thought of this now ?!..

trade my music equipment expertise for your magical granola bar recipe? :)

you bury your face in your hands, silently crying out— “ah shit, this is so annoying. why does he have to be so cute? i need a drink.”

—

“i’m hungry.” the grumpy complaint spills from your tongue now that bam, your not-so little happy pill, is out from sight.

“me too.” jungkook juts out his bottom lip, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you. “do you still have strawberry wafers in your bag?”

his question prompts you to hug it defensively. no, just no. “i’m saving them for emergencies-”

he puts his index finger infront of his lips, shushing you with a shake of his head. he tuts. “i know. this is an emergency, baby.”

cornered at the armrest of the couch, you have nowhere else to go. you unwillingly surrender to satisfying his craving, grimacing as he starts rummaging through your bag. this is exactly why you told him you should eat brunch before bringing in bam for his grooming, but jungkook insisted that it won’t take too long. sure, maybe the grooming session itself won’t… but the waiting in line part? that definitely took too long. making an appointment is technically futile when you’re visiting on a weekend.

“mhmmm, i love it.” he moans in satisfaction, devouring the slice of wafer in only two consecutive bites.

you glare at him when he offers you the plastic bag with a teasing smile, seizing it from his grip to snack on the treat while you continue to wait at the lounge area. you’re the only fur parents left here, the last clients before the staff goes on their hour-long lunch break. the sign on the door has been flipped to say ‘CLOSED’.

jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling you closer by the shoulder and cupping your face with his warm hand to plant an apologetic kiss on your cheek. “i’ll cook you a hearty meal for dinner when we get home.”

you melt in his hold, leaning further against the backrest to release the tension from your body bred by hunger and impatience.

“really?” you feign nonchalance as you make the futile attempt of hiding the pleased smile curving on your lips. “i want chicken. the one you made before, with the creamy and spicy sauce.”

your mouth is practically watering as you describe the dish, the smell and taste of his cooking still vivid in your senses’ memory. it’s making the food you’re eating painfully insipid, but it’s better than nothing.

“and wine, too. no- actually, i’m craving tequi- argh, i’ll settle with wine.”

“okay! chicken and wine for dinner!” he agrees straight away, pressing a kiss on your temple before pinching one more stick of wafer between his fingers. he breaks it into two halves and gives one of them to you.

you accept it wordlessly, but a peculiar feeling is slithering its way into the tight confines of your heart, and you can’t withdraw your eyes from closely observing your gorgeous boyfriend. he brushes off the crumbs that fell on his white t-shirt and his lap after he finishes his share, still chewing as he tenderly takes the empty plastic from your hand. just as you predicted, he finds entertainment in folding it as small as possible.

“this is giving me déjà vu.”

“déjà vu?” he tilts up his head, doe eyes widening as you’ve captured his attention.

“uh-huh, you know when we first met…” you trail off, sending him a threatening look when the confused expression on his face stays unchanging. “you remember, right?”

his mouth hangs open before his eyebrows knit in irritation, posture straightening as he stammers with his defense. “what kind of question is that? you’re hurting my feelings- you were wearing a varsity jacket with the number 6 on it!”

“jungkook, i wore that like everyday for four months.”

his expression softens, pierced lip forming a pout. “do you even know that i-i… ah, i’ll show you instead!”

“show me what?”

he digs his hand in the pocket of his dark blue denim jeans, dishing out his wallet. you peer at him with curiosity as he rapidly unzips it to comb through his cards, pausing at his driver’s license and removing the white paper hiding behind it.

“no way-” you splutter, nearly choking on your own spit as your hunch grows enormously.

he unfolds it to reveal the faded blue ink that writes the most crucial and specific details of the first time the universe conspired to make your paths cross.

“look, i still have the receipt from the night! november 11…”

you notice him squinting at the faint characters, and you momentarily disconnect from the surge of mixed emotions to pull out his prescription glasses from the collar of his t-shirt. you affectionately wear it on him, weaving your fingers through his hair to brush away the loose strands from his bun blocking the lens.

“thanks baby- it’s november 11, 2017. at 9:55pm!”

jungkook originally kept this receipt for a month incase he had to return the speakers due to unforeseen defect or damage. but then you never stopped talking, and you became the only person he thinks of 24/7 just as your coquettish warning told. the thought of throwing it out never occured to him. instead, he preserved it in his wallet because he carries it with him everywhere he goes. he would even argue that it’s his most important property in it. he can have his credit cards cancelled then replaced, but this piece of paper is once in a lifetime.

mj’s music box closed down due to the pandemic. he hasn’t told you this, didn’t want to break your heart when he found out. he knows that you treasure the place as much as him, if not more.

meanwhile, the new-found knowledge has rendered you speechless, unblinking, buffering.

“what’s with that face? you’ve never seen this in my wallet?” he quizzes you in bewilderment, smiling humorously.

“of course i haven’t! you want me going through your wallet without permission?!” you whine, hugging his arm and hiding yourself behind his back to calm the intense pumping of your heart.

oh, your sweet, sweet jungkook— he never runs out of way to make you fall in love with him all over again.

“my love, you know i don’t care about things like that.” he chuckles, astonished by how you still highly value and respect his privacy and boundaries despite how long you’ve been together. it just occurs to him then, that at the very core of your relationship, this is probably why he never once regretted moving in with you. he says it all the time, but he just feels so goddamn lucky to have you in his life. he loves you. he loves everything about you. even the things he doesn’t like, he loves.

“aren’t you going to eat that?”

you’re overflowing with his love, you can’t stomach anything else.

“i won’t.”

“i’ll indulge myself then.” he cages your hand in his, raising it for the wafer to reach his lips. he bites it all the way down like a bunny eating a carrot, ending the journey with a chaste kiss on your knuckle. “you’re too quiet… are you crying?”

you shake your head profusely, tightening your embrace. “i love you so much, i can’t think. i just want to hug you.”

he smells a different type of sweet nowadays— more manly, more mature, binding you in an enrapturing spell, and with a suble hint of a baby scent that somehow makes him much more intoxicating. it’s overwhelming to think about— the amount of perfume bottles you’ve bought and consumed after asking one another if they smell too basic or too strong; the amount of times jungkook changed his wallet and took the receipt along with him because it only felt right.

“mkay, i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers, nosing at your hair.

and so, he stays stuck by the glue onto you as he gulps down a bottle of water, as he returns his wallet in his pocket with grunts of difficulty, as he deletes a promotional text on his phone sent by his service provider. he suspects that you’ve already fallen asleep. after all, you did spend the entire night dancing to the songs he sang along to. you wore the crocheted blanket you made as a cape and a dress, flowing with your graceful movements controlled by the lyrics and the beat and the melody and his compliments and his giggles.

he’s proven wrong when you slowly turn your head, cheek squished against his bicep. with heavy eyelids, you search for his hands, tangling them with your lonely ones.

“want to hear something silly about that day?”

“i’m all ears.” he beams eagerly, watching you twiddle with his long and slender fingers.

“do you know why i offered you my food?”

“because you couldn’t let a pretty boy like me succumb to starvation?”

“weeeell, there’s that…” you admit to his confident guess. “but aside from that, i wanted to see your nails closely.”

“my nails?”

you make a noise of confirmation as you trace his tattoos, a laugh seeping from the cracks of your relaxed demeanor. “to see if they were clean and trimmed or not.”

“so…” jungkook, the most hygienic man you’ve ever met, is digesting what you just confessed to him. “if they were dirty, you never would’ve told me your name?”

“hmm, yeah. because i always badgered my ex about it and you know how that relationship ended, so i thought enforcing those type of rules would help because i don’t want to deal with that shit again.” you cringe at younger you’s naivety and desperation, smiling shyly. “and it kind of… worked out so well? it sounds so funny to me now. i actually love myself for that.”

“fuck, baby,” he sighs.

he can’t imagine how a human being could ever dare to treat you with anything but gentleness. literally, can’t. it makes him sick to his stomach, makes the blood in his veins boil. he feels disturbed by the memories that still haunt you, and he feels angry because he is powerless and he can’t erase them no matter how hard he tries.

he caresses your face, planting doting kisses on your lips. the ghost of his affection lingers, like an invisible lipstick mark. “i wish i met you sooner.”

“what are you saying? i think we met at the perfect time!” you console his frustration, grinning when the epiphany lands on top of your bittersweet flashbacks. “out of the 365 days of the year, we met at 11/11. you’re my wish come tru- bam!”

the shocked, high-pitched squeal freefalls from your mouth when bam excitedly jumps on your laps out of nowhere, the weight of his upper half crushing your thighs underneath him. the dog smiles at you, panting.

“bam, i missed you but i was just about to tell your dad something romantic!”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter One - Tyler Owens x Reader

Chapter One - Nice Try, Owens

It was the end of the second tornado-chasing season for (Y/n) and the Storm Riders. A couple of years ago a local bar in Oklahoma named the Dust Devil Dive hosted a yearly celebration party for all the storm chasers to relax and share stories from the year's chases. 

Granted, most times it was just your team, a few from Storm Par, another smaller team named Atmosphere Aces, and the Tornado Wranglers. Thankfully when the owners, Kathy and Randy, threw this party they closed the place down to outsiders, which included all of the Tornado Wrangler fans. You and your team got tired of having their fans around constantly just because the leader, if you could call him that, was good-looking and charismatic enough to make any girl who looked at him melt. That man is Tyler Owens. 

While, yes, he is good-looking and a smooth talker, he was also reckless and annoying. There were numerous times you had watched him and Boone drive into the middle of a storm in that old red truck of his and put it in park to then shoot fireworks up into the tornado. You’d have to admit that his bravery and respect for the storm were admirable; driving into the middle of a tornado was not as admirable. 

You smirked to yourself while sitting at the bar while sipping your whiskey and diet coke thinking of all the crazy stunts the Tornado Wranglers have pulled. You turned your barstool slightly to watch the teams intermingle on the dance floor, forgetting about all the turbulence everyone had gone through the last few weeks. 

As Rodney Atkins played throughout the bar, you turned back to the bar and finished your drink hearing everyone sing along at the top of their lungs. 

“If you’re going through hell, keep on going, don’t slow down!” They all sang, “If you’re scared, don’t show it, you might get out ‘fore the devil even knows you’re there!” 

In the corner of your eye, you could see Tyler playing pool with Dexter while trying to teach Ben, a journalist from a city near London. You smirked while watching Ben try to use the cue to hit the white ball on the table which was basically lined up with the seven ball and one of the corner pockets. 

While he took his shot and missed horribly by barely hitting the white ball and almost falling onto the table, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. That caused Tyler to look up from under his cowboy hat and make eye contact with you. 

For a man you didn’t necessarily enjoy talking with, he sure did something to your brain chemistry. You lifted your new drink and slightly tipped it toward him in a cheers manner. He did the same with his beer bottle, the two of you both took a drink and you turned back to the bar where the bartender was asking if you needed anything else. 

“I’m good, thanks,” you said, placing your glass back on its chintzy bar coaster. You took your phone out of your pocket and scrolled Facebook for a minute or two to catch up on your family's lives that you had been missing for the last few years while out storm chasing. 

“It’s hard for you, too, huh sweetheart?” A voice you knew instantly asked from beside you. 

You glanced over and saw Tyler sitting on the stool while putting his bottle on the bar to signal the bartender for another. 

“I wish I could go back more and- wait. Why am I telling you my sap story of not seeing my family for the last couple of years?” You laughed, putting your phone down and grabbing your drink. 

“Because I’m just another friendly face at the bar?” He said, looking over at you and smiling slightly. 

“I don’t know about friendly, but definitely another face,” you said, stirring your straw around. 

“Ouch, okay, (Y/n)’s in that type of mood tonight,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I’m in no mood, Tyler,” you stated, “Just stating a fact.” 

“I see how it is,” he chuckled, “And to think I was talking to quite a beautiful face.” 

This statement took you back slightly, you were used to Tyler picking on you and calling you other things like your last name and calling you Salado, which is the town in Texas you’re from that’s about 45 minutes away from Waco, Texas. Salado is a quaint village with what you can call an artistic flair. While your parents were cattle farmers, you did your chores and spent time with a few favorite cows; you also liked going to the heart of the small town and enjoying the artists painting and sculpting in the parks and the numerous bands playing around the town in the little saloons. That’s where you fell in love with music and tried to pursue it as a second job aside from helping out on the farm as that was a full-time job. 

When that fell through, you moved up to Oklahoma to try storm chasing as you had always been in love with storms when you were little. Instead of hiding under the covers or running to your parents, you were at the big picture window in the living room watching the lightning and trees blowing in the wind. 

You were jolted from your thoughts by Tyler nudging your elbow with his. 

“Hmm?” You asked. 

“Dance with me?” He asked, standing up and holding his hand out to you. In the mirror behind the bar, you could see the teams paired up in couples to do their best slow dancing. 

You laughed slightly, “Nice try, Owens.” 

“Please? We’re the only ones not dancing right now,” he said, taking your hand off your glass and pulling you to the dance floor to the tune of ‘Made For You’ by Jake Owen. 

He didn’t give you much of a chance to say no as he pulled you to his chest, his right hand going to your waist and his left finding your hand. You sighed to yourself and put your left on his bicep, which was more muscular feeling than it looked. You figured as long as you were here, you might as well enjoy the dance since the last time you slow danced was with your dad at a friend's wedding. 

You weren’t sure if he was just that intoxicated or if he was fully coherent, but he was rubbing small circles with his thumb on your hip while you both swayed to the music. While your body relaxed you took a deep breath in, smelling the mix of leather, dried rain, an almost musky smell, and a hint of sweat. All of it combined made your heart swoon for this crazy cowboy. 

“Hey (L/n)?” He whispered in your ear, holding his head close to yours. 

“Yeah, Owens?” You whispered back. 

“Think maybe sometime I can take you out?”

You looked up at his blueish green eyes that looked down at you with the most sincere look. 

“Why?” You asked, giggling slightly, “Why would Tyler Owens want to go out with someone like me?”

“Because the girl I’m holding in my arms is the best woman I’ve met in my years of livin’,” he stated, pressing the bridge of his nose to the top of your head. 

“Yeah right, Tyler,” you said, sighing, “Everyone knows you got a thing for Kate.” 

“But she is nothing compared to you,” he said, pulling you closer slightly, “Call me crazy, but I fell in love with you when we first met and I knew I’d have to try and get closer to you somehow. I just hate that it’s taken me this long to finally say somethin.” 

“I guess I don’t believe you?” You said softly, taking in the scent you’ve grown to want more of.

“I mean it, sweetheart,” he said, “It might be, well, I know it’s the beer talkin’, but everything I’m sayin’ is true. You’re one of the smartest and most beautiful girls I’ve seen. And that’s sayin’ a lot since I’ve seen my fair share of gals.” 

“I can’t tell if that last part is an insult or a compliment,” you whispered, Tyler kissing the top of your head softly. 

“Always a compliment when it comes to you, baby girl,” he said, pulling away and twirling you as the song ended and ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ by Luke Combs started. 

You looked back up at him, his eyes looking back at you with happiness sewn in them.

“I suppose one wouldn’t hurt, just no YouTube star Tyler, got it?” You said, walking back to your seat at the bar. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked away. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, following you to the bar. 

“You should probably get back to your game of pool before Ben hurts someone,” you giggle, Tyler looking over and seeing Ben almost hit Boone in the gut with the end of the cue. 

“Good call, I’ll be back once we win,” he said while grabbing his beer. 

“If you win,” you state, taking a drink of your now watered-down whiskey coke. 

“Don’t test me, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your head, kissing it before walking back to Dexter and Ben. 

You shook your head and laughed softly. If the tornadoes you chased didn’t do anything to you, this cowboy definitely would. 

Want more? Here's Chapter Two! Masterlist :)

[magics-neptunes-things]

Hide And Seek

Hi guys!

Another request that you can find it here, even if I'm only going to write it in one part.

Resume : Two times you and your secret girlfriend almost got caught by your big sister and the time she caught you.

Warning : Fluff, swearing (because it's Lucy), a little bit of angst because I like it with a happy ending. !BronzeReader

You met Alessia thanks to your big sister Lucy Bronze. These two playing together in the national team, it was not difficult to meet her. You meet her several times even, whether at parties for their different victories or when you go to see Lucy at her training sessions. You always thought Alessia was beautiful, but when you heard her talk about her boyfriend with Ella a few years ago, you got used to the idea that it was better to give up.

The months and years passed and Alessia was single for a little while when you had the opportunity to have a moment of exchange just the two of them, during their final win at the Euro. After having celebrated this with the families, some of them decided to extend the party in a nightclub and you accepted when Lucy offered to accompany them. Jorge being a father, he had to resolve to let his two sisters go without him, but you promised him to stay wise and not drink too much.

Lucy, on the other hand, just sneered at him. She is dancing in the middle of the track with several of her teammates, including Leah Williamson on fire. For your part, you watch the scene with a smile, proud of what your sister and her team has achieved.

"What are you doing alone?"

You raise your head to realize that the person who asked you this question is nobody but Alessia. You joked that it could have passed for a lame line from a lame flirt and when she blushed while sitting next to you you found yourself falling for her even harder.

You discussed the rest of the night, interrupted only when the nightclub owners kicked you out. When you arrived home, you could see that Alessia had started following you on Instagram and your relationship started like that. You made the decision not to tell anyone, starting with Lucy. There are some implicit rules in family life, starting with not getting in a relationship with your sister’s friends.

The first time you almost got caught was during the winter football break.

"Raise and shine baby, your sister's here!"

You are awakened with a start, the voice of your sister causing you a start of panic attack. This is not the first time she comes at yours when she's home from Barcelona, usually to bring you breakfast and spend time with you. And you like it, as much as you love your big sister.

However, this morning, there is Alessia with you in your bed. An Alessia not fully dressed, hair in bulk and eyes still asleep. This doesn't prevent her from throwing you a look of pure panic. Lucy doesn’t know that you two share more than a purely friendly relationship, you know that she wouldn’t appreciate you dating one of her friends. Just as it would be perfectly reciprocal if things were reversed.

"Y/N are you still sleeping? It’s past 10am"

You have always been a big sleeper, you are constantly quarrelled with this in your family. You quickly get up from your bed and beckons Alessia to do the same.

"I’m coming! Give me time to get dressed and I’ll come" you answer.

She grumbles and settles on your sofa, turning on the television. You appreciate even more the fact that she feels at home when she is with you. This will allow you to whisper with Alessia to get you out of this bad step.

"You have to hide" you mumble to Alessia while putting on a t-shirt.

"Where? I won’t hide in your closet, I warn you"

"Get dressed to start"

Alessia’s blue eyes cast a reproachful glance at you, certainly linked to the tone of the voice you just used. You apologize with a look and watch her get dressed.

"Go find your sister instead of looking at me, creep"

You roll your eyes and gently open the door to find Lucy actually installed in the living room. When she sees you appear she jumps on her legs and hurries to join the kitchen. Maybe things aren’t going to be as complicated as you thought.

All you have to do is keep her from entering your bedroom.

Lucy sitting at your kitchen table, you exchange the latest news of your lives while you put what she brought on plates. You listen to her talk about her life in Barcelona and you smirks when you hear her talk about this famous girl who seems to take more and more in her life, maybe joining Barcelona this summer.

"What?" she asks you when she sees you smiling.

"Nothing" you answer before laughing and biting into your toast.

You change the subject of conversation, going back to your nephew’s next birthday hoping that she does not delay too much. You can’t help but think of Alessia still waiting to get out of your bedroom.

"By the way, I need my camera back. You have it, you know where you put it?"

Busy doing the dishes after your breakfast and a few games of Mario Kart, you start answering without really thinking.

"It's on the dresser in my bedr…"

Holly shit.

By the time you turn around, Lucy’s already headed to your room and opened the door. You run after her, ready to face Alessia lying on your bed, but she’s not visible anywhere.

"Thank you" Lucy smiles, not noticing your lost look. "I have to go, but I’ll see you later, ok?"

"Sure. Can't wait to meet Ona though" you mumble, still looking around.

She gives you a light punch behind the back of the skull, puts a kiss on your cheek and leaves as fast as she comes. The door of your apartment closes and you turn towards your room.

"Lessi?"

The door of your closet opens slowly to reveal your girlfriend, her eyes cold and her face closed. She is really not happy at all.

"I am so sorry"

She grumbles for any answer but accepts the hand you hold out to help her get out of the furniture. You tell her again your apology, applying yourself to lay as many kisses on her face as possible, until she finally offers you one of her smiles that you love so much.

"It’s an original way to get out of the closet, though" you joke softly in the pit of her ear.

She frowns and punches you in the back of the head, right where Lucy did it to you earlier.

"Ouch? I didn’t know you were in the category of abusive girlfriends?"

She rolls her eyes and leaves the room, making you smile when seeing her rush to the toilet. You go back to the living room and prepare a plate with what’s left of the breakfast, determined to make amends. And, sorry Lucy, but you can’t help but tell her about your sister’s confidence earlier.

********

The second time you almost got caught was during the World Cup. You made the trip for the entire tournament, officially to support your beloved big sister. Unofficially to spend time with your girlfriend, which you simply can’t live without. You spent two separate weeks for her training camp and that was enough for you. By an incredible chance you found a job in London to be able to follow Alessia without it attracting anyone’s attention. Maybe because you were in the confidence of Alessia leaving Manchester for Arsenal from the beginning and you were able to do things smoothly.

After resigning, you have almost two months free before returning to work and you decided to fly to Australia.

Alessia sharing her room with Ella, you have at first to show imagination to be able to see you. Even if you are in the stands every time, it’s obviously out of the question that she comes to kiss you as if nothing had happened. Alessia finally confessed that she was seeing someone, not to mention your identity. Ella tried to find out more, but the pretty blonde didn’t want to embarrass her best friend and make her life complicated. If Lucy finds out about you and knows that Ella also knows, Tooney might get scolded too.

Except it only lasted four days before Ella understood. After helping Alessia escape from the surveillance of their teammates for a secret date on a beach, Ella didn’t think much of anything anymore. Eager to change her mind, she proposed a little nocturne ride to everyone and this was accepted by Lucy, always willing to discover the voisinage, Mary and Maya.

It was only when they turned around a street corner that they had never explored to come across a small beach that an alarm sounded in her head. She easily recognized the silhouette of her best friend, sitting on the wall at the beginning of the beach. However, she didn’t have time to try to recognize who was with Alessia that Lucy’s incredulous voice resonated beside her.

"Y/N?"

When you heard the voice of your older sister, you jumped and hurried to get up. And Ella understood.

"What are you doing here?"

"We asked her to come see you, we made this with Alessia" the surprise passed, Ella quickly made her brain work. " You seemed a little down because of your knee, so we thought seeing someone from your family would make you happy. Lessi had to meet her here and I had to take you there."

Alessia’s panicked look quickly turned into a look of relief when Lucy seemed to gladly accept the answer. Especially since it is true that her knee worries her and that the idea that this World Cup is the last one works a lot.

So happily passing her arm around your shoulders, she takes you a little further away from the others. Luckily, Maya and Mary didn’t seem to doubt Ella’s story. But seeing her best friend’s eyes, Alessia quickly understood that she was going to have some explanations to give her.

In any case, fortunately your kissing session had ended a few minutes earlier.

Lucy is back from Barcelona for the training camps for the national team, like many of her teammates. With the latter taking place in London, Alessia doesn’t have a lot of travelling to join it on the first day. That is why, the evening before, you went out to see a concert. And it might be possible that you will extend the evening by going for a drink somewhere. Alessia is not a nobody, but you are always careful not to be too intimate towards each other when you know you can be seen.

Except that last night, alcohol and the prospect of not being able to see you for a few days may have made you lose your mind.

And that’s why pictures of you and Alessia kissing each other appeared on the net. These kisses against a red brick wall in a London street certainly brought a very pleasant moment when you returned to Alessia’s apartment, but if the blonde could disappear under the ground now, she would. Her teammates obviously came across the photos and teased her with it since this morning.

By a miracle, it’s almost impossible to recognize you. They only see your hair and your back while Alessia’s face is perfectly recognizable. Ella tried to divert the attention of their friends by all possibilities, discovering herself a fan-girl side for your couple, but in vain.

Even worse, attracted by the giggles of the girls and the pink cheeks of Alessia, Lucy comes to mingle in the conversation.

"What did I miss?" Lucy asks while sitting next to Mary.

"Alessia has a secret girlfriend" sings Lotte maliciously.

A little surprise laugh escapes from your big sister’s lips, which Alessia avoids looking in the eyes since she realized that she and you have exactly the same color.

"I thought you were straight?" asks Lucy, curiously looking at your blonde.

"I’ve never stuck labels on myself" Alessia mumbles as she looks at her hands.

"You’ve only been with boys so far" Esme gently says.

"What do you want me to say? She changed my mind."

That was true. Without making a fuss, Alessia had always imagined herself as heterosexual before getting closer to you and realizing that it was not friendly hugs that she wanted to give you.

"Let me see the pictures"

Lucy reaches out to Maya's phone, who willingly reaches out. Alessia winces when she sees Lucy reading the article and enlarging the photos. You also saw the article, obviously. You tried to reassure Alessia by telling her that no one could recognize you and that it would eventually settle down.

"Can’t you leave her alone?" intervenes Ella, anxious to protect her best friend.

But Lucy doesn’t listen, distracted by the photos. Her eyebrows gently frown.

"Wait, I know this tattoo"

Oh no. Becoming white in a second, Alessia stands from her chair the most discreetly possible but barely has time to take a few steps before a roar sounds behind her.

"Alessia Mia Teresa Fucking Russo!"

Rushing to hide behind Mary who innocently enters the cafeteria, Alessia barely has time to hide behind the goalie’s shoulder as Lucy is already with her.

"Mary please, she’s going to kill me"

"Lucia what the fuck?" asks Mary, moving Lucy away from Alessia, putting her hand on her chest.

"It’s my sister! It’s my fucking little sister she’s kissing in these fucking pictures!"

********

You didn't hear about Alessia that night.

You tried to call her at the same time as usual, but not seeing her answer you simply told yourself that she was busy and that she was going to call you back. When you saw that the hours were passing and that it was not the case, the worry that she was injured became too strong. So, despite your desire not to disturb people, you tried to contact Ella. She did not answer you either, increasing your anxiety.

With no one else aware, it was impossible to contact anyone else to ask about Alessia. So you spent a sleepless night looking at your phone screen hoping to get a message, but nothing. The day has passed and you have never been so ineffective in your life at work. Your fear turned into anxiety throughout the day, unable to distract your mind from Alessia.

It wasn’t until the evening that you received notification of a message from Alessia. Except the message you received was far from what you expected.

From LessiBaby 🧸❤️‍🔥 We are over

From You What are you talking about baby? Are you alright? I was really worried, what happened?

From LessiBaby 🧸❤️‍🔥 You and me. We are over... I'm sorry Don't contact me again pls

And after that, Alessia had to block you since you couldn’t call her and none of your messages could be delivered to her.

A breakup with the woman you’re in love with is hard. But it’s even harder not to understand why. Everything was perfectly fine when she left for camp, she even took care to leave you several of her hoodies so that you can sleep with them in her absence, promising to see you as soon as she had the opportunity.

Then, finally, the infernal spiral of your thoughts made you understand that she had surely realized that she deserved better than you. A sportsman or woman like her, who surely does something more interesting than a simple job in an international company. Someone she could expose herself with.

On the third day of your breakup, you were unable to get out of bed to go to work. Feeling that something was wrong with you, your closest friend in London, who is also one of your colleagues arrived at your house. She didn’t ask a question when she saw you in your pajamas at 2:00 in the afternoon, eating chocolate ice cream in front of the television.

Instead, she made you pack a bag and took you home for the weekend. The first day you refused to leave the guest room, only answering your mother’s messages so she wouldn’t think you were murdered in a dark alley in London. The second day you confided in Ashley about the whole story. She listened to you, didn’t judge you for a second and tried to give you some advice.

When Lucy wrote to you asking you to go for a drink, you refused on the pretext of having something planned with Ashley. You know that your sister would quickly understand that something is happening in your private life if she sees you and you don’t want to talk to her about it.

The following Monday, you and your sadness returned to work under Ashley’s encouragement. Her boyfriend must have thought you were a psychopath but didn’t comment on your physical or mental state either. It allowed you to confirm to Ashley that he was a good man.

In the evening, you returned home, making a new night routine. Often just taking time to shower, you went back to bed quickly. The only news you have of Alessia is on England’s national team social media. Despite the pain of these images, you can’t help but look at them. She’s still beautiful. Tired maybe, but anyone is tired during these camps. You know they’re intense.

On Friday night, Ashley practically came to take you out of your bed to get out. She forced you to shower and put on something other than an Alessia sweater. However, you refused to wear make-up and fix your hair other than in a messy bun. You put on a ripped jeans and a white top with your black leather jacket and that’s enough.

You don’t know the bar Ashley is taking you to, which is not surprising since you’re still new to London. What you do know is that the hubbub that sounds as soon as you enter it will soon cause you a headache.

"Can you at least fake that you're not dying from the inside?" Ashley laughs softly after you have your drinks.

"Sorry" you mumble, well aware of your unpleasant company.

"I asked John to come, is it ok?" Ashley asks, mentioning her boyfriend.

You mumble that it's fine, before the door opens again leaving a group of about ten people to enter. You automatically glance at it before freezing to see who it is. There is at least half of the Lioness contingent. Mary, Milie, Leah, Keira, Lucy, Lauren, Beth, Georgia and Alessia and Ella closing the march. You shift on your seat, staring at Ashley.

"Did you do it on purpose?"

"No! Of course not!"

You don’t have to study her face long to understand that it’s not Ashley who did it, but fate. Finishing your Daiquiri in one go, you turn towards your friend.

"You have five seconds to figure out a way to get me out of here without me getting noticed"

You didn’t respond to Lucy’s last messages with more than one sentence, also refusing a proposal to go for a coffee before one of her workouts. As for Alessia, you don’t have the courage to look at her now. You look at your fingers, fearing to turn into a salt statue or worse, to see her happy and smiling while you cried last night while not managing to open your new jar of jam.

Luckily, the small group chose a table at the end of the room, allowing you to think about an action plan.

"Your girlfriend doesn’t look very happy" says Ashley, who can’t resist observing them.

"Ex" you whisper, still looking at your fingers.

Ashley stays silent and you jump when someone falls between you on a chair. But it’s just John, leaning over to put a delicate kiss on Ashley’s lips. You greet him with a vague smile, happy to see that despite your breakup you manage to bear the happiness of others.

Ashley asked you if she could tell your story to John and you agreed, certain that the poor man didn’t care much about your problems. But you were wrong and he always shows you kindness and empathy.

A grimace appears on his face when your friend informs him of the situation and you shrug your shoulders in return. It’s at this precise moment that you realize how much you miss your big brother and that you feel guilty for not having written to him these last days. John is friendly but he’s nothing like Jorge.

You end up looking at the players' table, automatically looking for Alessia’s figure. Sitting next to Ella, of course. If the latter seems in full conversation with Milie, Alessia is leaning against the back of the bench, staring at the table in front of her. It makes you frown, if she is at the initiative of your breakup, why does she seem sad too?

Your eyes slide down to your sister at the end of the table. Her head leaning on her hand, she also talks with someone you can’t see, her eyes going around the room to discover the decoration.

"I have to get out of here," you whisper as you turn to your couple of friends.

"I’ll help you."

John throws you his cap that you put on your head to hide yourself. You hope to sneak out discreetly. Getting up, you let yourself be carried away by John who passed a protective arm around your shoulders. You sigh of relief when he opens the door of the pub, before finding you nailed to the ground, facing Mary Earps.

"Y/N? Who’s that?"

Her eyes get cold when they land on John and you quickly understand why. He also hurries to remove his arm from your shoulders, but you force the way out of the establishment. There’s no way you’re gonna get you spotted now.

"John, a friend. Don’t look at me like that, his girlfriend is inside and he was just helping me out."

After making sure he can leave you, John returns inside, probably impressed by Mary's icy look. You can understand.

"I’ll let your sister know you’re here" Mary informs you by grabbing her phone.

"No, no! please…"

Mary again raises her gaze on you and it’s your turn to find yourself in front of her icy gaze.

"Oh yes. Enough of your stories, I’m tired of Alessia looking at Lucy like she killed your whole family. And to see Lucy look at Alessia like she killed your whole family. And you look like someone who lost their whole family. If I don’t do it for you, I do it for my own sanity."

"I don’t understand what you’re saying "

Mary doesn’t answer, typing on her phone. You don’t have much time to think about it since Lucy comes out of the establishment, a questioning look on her face.

"Y/N?" makes Lucy gently before offering you a brief embrace.

You let her, determined to understand what’s going on before you get angry. You still missed her. A long silence passes, finally interrupted by Mary’s exasperated sigh.

"You’re not even trying. Okay. Lucy, explain why you made Alessia break up with your sister, please?"

"What?!" you jump.

You knew there was very little chance that Lucy would react well to this announcement, but between that and pushing Alessia to break up with you, there’s a world.

"I didn’t force her to break up, I told her what I thought of your relationship and the fact that you preferred to hide it from me rather than tell me."

"You told her that she was a traitor you couldn’t trust and that she should be ashamed of betraying her friends like she did."

Mary’s objection makes Lucy wince and makes you frown. You can imagine how much these words must have affected Alessia, it’s hardly anything that was thrown in her face when she left Manchester for Arsenal.

"What have you done Lucia?"

Even if she rolls her eyes when you say her full name, she still looks embarrassed. And you, kinda angry.

"I messed up. I tried to talk to you this week about it, but you were always busy."

"I wasn't busy, I was fucking heartbroken Luce! You didn't have the right to get into my relationship!"

You're cold, but you can't understand how or why Lucy would make a move like this. You never said anything about her relationships, unless it was friendly teasing.

Lucy opens her mouth again to speak, but it is only Alessia’s sweet voice that you hear above all this hubbub.

"Y/N?"

"Hi" you sigh by sliding your hands in the pockets of your jeans.

You remember bitterly that a few minutes ago, you had hoped to leave here quietly. A new silence takes place during which each of you is observed the others without knowing what to say. Mary finally reacts, taking Lucy by the arm to get her inside again, telling her that she will have time to reconcile with her little sister later.

So you find yourself alone in front of Alessia and you don’t know what to say to her. Worse, you realize you’re angry at her too.

"I’m sorry" said Alessia after a few seconds.

"I don't understand"

You can’t face her. While the only thing you wanted less than two hours ago was to be able to find her arms back, you now just want to go home and that the whole world leaves you alone.

"What don’t you understand?" asks Alessia gently.

"Why didn’t you fight for me? For us? Lucy tells you to end our relationship and you did, without even giving me any explanations or reasons. Do you have any idea what happened in my head?"

Alessia swallows, apparently not expecting you to talk to her that way. Aside from the little arguments, you never got confused. You don’t even know if she saw you once angry. But now you feel it boiling in your veins. And, as every time you are angry, you feel tears in your eyes and it annoys you even more.

"I told myself that you had found someone else or that you had realized that you wanted someone with whom things would be easier. Maybe someone more athletic, smarter or even more available than me. That you might have realized you deserved better than me, after all who cares about a simple accountant, huh?"

You see she wants to answer you, but now that you’re on the move, you can’t stop. You even take a step in her direction, pointing an accusing finger in her direction.

"I was in love with you, I would have done anything for you, Alessia. And it destroys me to see that it is not reciprocal."

Like you, Alessia has tears in her eyes. She looks like she’s blown away by everything you just threw in her face, like a boxer who just got hit in the face. That’s when Ashley comes out of the bar, freezing as she sees the scene. What a great timing.

"Can you please take me home?"

"Of course."

You need 20 minutes to get home. Meanwhile, as if to support the bad atmosphere, the clouds began to pour torrents of water on London. You had to promise Ashley several times that you were gonna be okay before she let you join your apartment alone. Despite the small hundred meters that you have to do to reach your building, you are quickly soaked.

Once at home, you hurry to get rid of your wet clothes to take a hot shower and put on a jogging bottom and a t-shirt much too big for you. This one also belongs to Alessia. Your phone stayed on your nightstand and you decided to leave it there. You just want the world to leave you alone. Armed with a hot chocolate and a plaid, you sit in front of the television and launch the first season of Friend’s.

An hour later, you jump when you hear someone knocking on your door. Fortunately, your cup has been empty ever since. You hesitate a few seconds to answer, before getting up, sighing.

You don’t know what you expected, but certainly not that. Alessia, wearing the same clothes you left her in front of the bar, soaked from head to toe. Her hair is stuck to her face and her clothes are glued to her body. She’s dripping on your doormat, but that doesn’t seem to be the most important thing to her right now.

You might have found her sexy if you hadn’t been seriously worried about her health.

"Jesus Alessia" you whisper before you let her in.

The young woman tries to speak but she shudders so much that you cannot understand anything with her teeth colliding.

"No wait, hush, shut up" you mumble

Without giving her the choice or really explaining what you are doing, you drag her into your bathroom. There, you push her under the shower all dressed and turn on the hot water, determined to warm her up as quickly as possible. You’re genuinely afraid she’ll end up hypothermic.

"Did you walk from the bar to here?" You ask her after a few minutes.

Alessia crossed her arms on her chest, probably trying to warm up faster. She still trembles but nevertheless manages to make an understandable sentence.

"I had to know."

"Know what?"

Still under hot water, Alessia takes a step in your direction to be closer to you. Unlike earlier, your voice is calm and concerned. And no matter how much you think, you don’t see what she wants to know.

"Earlier. You said I was in love with you. You used the past"

"Alessia…"

It was obviously not voluntary and finding you immersed in the blue of her eyes takes you back to every single good memory you had with her. You don't want to lie to her, you have always entrusted everything of your thoughts to her because you have full confidence in her.

"Please Y/N. I need to know. Do you still love me?"

Her voice trembles again, but it’s not because of the cold this time. You feel your heart break a little when you see that her eyes are full of tears and that some have even started to roll on her cheeks, mixing with the hot water.

"Of course I do" you end up whispering.

In less than two seconds, Alessia grabbed you by the shirt and you’re stuck between her and the wall. Two more seconds later and her lips are on yours. They’re cold, indicating that her body heat is still not at the right temperature. But that’s the least of your concerns. Her hands are all over you and you try to respond to the force of the kiss that Alessia offers you. This mixture of passion and despair is rather surprising and you must quickly catch your breath.

When Alessia looks back at you, her look makes you wonder if she will tear your clothes off or start crying again. She ends up opting for a third option, pressing her forehead on yours.

"I never wanted anyone but you. I’m sorry that such ideas came to mind. I’ve shown you very badly, but it’s always been you. I don’t want anyone but you."

The fervor of Alessia’s words cuts your breath. Her gaze in yours confirms that she truly thinks every word she just said. You smile at her, lightly stroking her cheek.

"Let's get out from here, right?"

You hurry out in the shower to wrap yourself in a towel, reluctantly removing the t-shirt you like so much. After taking out a towel for Alessia, you quickly get dressed, this time putting on a hoodie and an old shorts with the Manchester United logo. You also get something out for Alessia and when she’s dressed you slip under your duvet.

Alessia once again loses not a second before drawing you against her and you let her do it with pleasure, delighted to find your favorite smell.

"We need to talk to Lucy" Alessia whispers after a few seconds.

You let go of a little grunt for a simple answer. Now that you are reconciled with Alessia, you are not even angry with your big sister.

"Tomorrow" you answer before putting yourself on your stomach to be able to better observe it.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"No" you answer, smiling as you see the relief on Alessia’s face. "Lucy told me she tried to contact me to discuss this with me. You know what it was for?"

"I think a discussion with Mary and Leah made her realize she didn’t choose the right way. They must have seen that those few days were complicated for me. I think she wanted to see how you lived it."

You just hum, resting your head on her shoulder. But Alessia won’t let you do it since she gently raises your face in her direction. Keeping her hand under your chin, she gently strokes your cheek with her thumb while talking to you.

"I need to know what you’re thinking. You used to tell me everything without filter and now I feel like you’re holding everything"

"I’m just still a little confused" you explain with a frown, trying to formulate as best as possible what is happening in your head. "I didn’t know Lucy was the reason you broke up with me. It was so sudden… First you didn’t answer my messages, Ella neither and then you wrote to me to tell me it was over and to stop writing to you. And then I realized you blocked me on all your social media. The only way I could make sure you were still alive was by the brief seconds you appeared on the Lionesses account."

"I am so sorry"

Alessia’s voice is strangled by emotion and you know perfectly well that she never tried to hurt you.

"I thought I’d lose you forever and now you’re back. I’m gonna need a few days to realise that I'm not dreaming."

"Would you like me to leave you alone tonight?"

"No! Never go again" you exclaim, supporting your words by wrapping your body around it.

Alessia’s laughter makes you smile and you close your eyes to well being when you feel that she puts a kiss on your hair.

It’s only at this moment that you realize that the screen of your phone turns on. Stretching your arm, you grab it and frown as you notice that you have ten missed calls from Lucy, as many Ella and other numbers that you don’t even know.

"What the fuck?" you mumble.

"What’s happening?"

You need two seconds to focus on what’s going on, Alessia’s lips being busy stroking your neck. You turn the screen in her direction to show her the notifications, making her frown too. You don’t have time to think any longer as your phone rings again, indicating Ella’s phone number.

Sitting on Alessia’s hips, you pick up, still so lost.

"Hello?"

"Y/N! Thank God! Alessia disappeared, she left without taking her bag or even her phone"

"Oh" you mumble, pinching your nose. "Don’t worry, she’s at my house. She’s fine."

"What?! We’ve been looking for her for hours, give her your phone!"

With a little smile of apology, you hand your phone to Alessia. She grabs it with a constrained air and you put a kiss on her cheek while seeing her startle when her best friend yells at her. You can understand every word Ella utters and carefully watch Alessia’s face go from pout to frown following the words spoken by the Manchester United player.

You take advantage of your position to observe Alessia’s face, in search of change. You can’t find anything, except that she looks tired. When your fingers begin to slide gently across her face, Alessia’s eyes look for yours. You simply give her a tender smile, to which she responds almost timidly, while continuing your caresses. It takes you a few seconds to realize that Ella’s voice has finished resonating at the end of the phone, taken in your moment.

"I’m sorry Ella, I didn’t think you’d panic like this"

You still hear some furious exclamations on the other end of the phone, making you smile softly.

"I’m sorry. Can you cover me with the coaches for tonight? I’ll explain everything, I promise."

Alessia smiles as she hears Ella groan something in return, making you laugh silently.

"Thank you. Love you"

After that, she gives you your phone back and you quickly answer Lucy that you will talk tomorrow.

"She’s not very happy," Alessia comments, sliding her hands on your knees.

"Didn’t you tell them you were leaving?"

"No. And now can I have a kiss please?"

You smile and put your phone on the bedside table, amused to feel Alessia pull you by the sweater. It’s obviously with great pleasure that you oblige, putting your lips on hers.

alessiarusso99 and yourinstagram

iked by jorgebronze, yourInstagram, lucybronze, leahwilliamsonn, maryearps and 9,937 others

alessiarusso99 Time to let them know I’m yours ❤️🤍

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YourInstagram I love you SO MUCH ❤️🤍  

↳ alessiarusso99 Love you

ella.toone Parents 🫶

lucybronze 😘

user1 Not Lessi hitting on Lucy's little sister 😂

liked by you

user2 It's as cute as unexpected

↳ user3 I saw them at England's last game. The alchemy was tangible.

↳ user4 she was wearing a Russo jersey too

[nrdmssgs]

Pookie would you hear me out on nikto interacting with our very spoiled very bratty cat cause I just got a fussy cat and honestly I get those cat owners who let their cat break their shit now

Masterlist

At this point you better admit it, love: you intend to beat this life on a hard level. Because having a spoiled kitty and this man around? Now that would be a lot.

He would get along with your cat relatively fast. One minute you turn away to bring him treats so that your cat might become interested in him, the next minute you return only to find your fluffy little treasure peacefully purring on his lap.

"H-how did you?.."

"Just ignored him."

This man knows how cats function. Not because he has that much experience handling these pet (he doesn't), but because this guy is himself a big cat stuck in a human body sometimes.

Sitting in a far corner and looking at the only person not paying him attention, barely blinking, is his way of manifesting his interest in them.

You remember, how you finally bought that fancy and madly-expensive toy for your cat and the little devil ended up playing with the amazon box instead of the toy itself? Well now you have a man, that will throw a silent death glare at you if you try to pull the gift box out of his hands and let him enjoy his gift.

"The box is a part of a gift. You packed it for me. I keep it."

Your cat wakes you up in the middle of the night with a loud meow and an adrenalin dance? Now the kitty got a partner in crime. Don't go to your kitchen at 2 am, even if the sounds reaching you from there are very concerning. You will find a big burly guy, standing before the heated frying pan in an absolute darkness, your cat on his shoulder. Two pairs of widened predatory eyes: pale blue and green.

"Idi spat, radost`, my s kotom gotovim bliny.*"

Idi spat, radost`, my s kotom gotovim bliny.* - Go to sleep, my joy, the cat and I are making pancakes.

[melanirana]

A Tune and a Drink

singer!reader x bartender!sun/ moon

Suprise! Have a little something. You are a singer in the 1930's and two specific bartenders have caught your eye, just like you have caught theirs.

I even have a musik recommendation for this one. Habits - Vintage 1930's cover and Levitating - 1920s style cover by PostmodernJukebox on YouTube. Check em' out they're really good.

with that said, enjoy

It’s the 1930’s, the era of glamour, fashion, parties but most of all, good music. Big cities are getting bigger, new opportunities arise on all sides, technology is advancing and you are right in the middle of it.

You are known throughout the whole city, not famous enough to be known across states but known enough that clubs and bars fight to have you sing on their stage. To have you bless their establishments with your voice and draw in the people, so these people make their bar The City Bar.

Whenever you agree to sing at their club they make it known immediately. Whether that is through the newspaper, telling their guests who tell it their acquaintances, or hanging papers around the city. 

“downright heavenly”

“the voice of an angel”

“as powerful as it’s wonderful”

“rich with a beautiful smoky undertone” they call your voice. A bit of an exaggeration you think, you can agree on the smoky undertone but the rest. It must be because you hear your voice every day, when you wake from sleep, when you talk, when you warm up, when you practice when you sing.

But other people only hear you when you sing, it isn’t often it is a special occasion, it is desired it is sought after. To them it means so much and therefore it means so much to you. To sing for people, to lighten their day, to make them happy.

There is barely ever you turn down an offer to sing, it is simply a matter of when you have time again. More often than not you don’t come back to a bar for a month or two, too busy singing somewhere else, writing, or any other reason.

So why is it, that even with such a full schedule, you always find time to come back to sing at one certain high-profile bar named Celestias. 

People wonder. Is it close to home. Do you have a deal with the bar. Does it mean something to you. Is it the celebrities that frequent this establishment. Or is it simply the wonderful view of the river that divides the city, that flows right by the building.

All good guesses, but utterly wrong.

The reason you keep returning is the bar, those how tend to it specifically. Two highly advanced Animatronics.

Metal polished like a brand new 540 K Special-Roadster, but not just a car. Highly advanced machinery capable of many things, but not an industrial machine. Eyes that see, hands that move, mouths that speak, but not human.

The robot pair is truly unique with their circular faces and wonderful colors. One bright as a golden Charleston-dress under a chandelier, eyes so wonderfully bleu they seem to be carved out of the ocean itself with a crown of metallic rays. The other shines like a blue evening gown under a low light, eyes as dangerous and enticing as a ruby with a long silk night cap that looks like it was sewn from the night sky.

Both with crescents that split their faces in the fashion of theater masks.

Both wear high-quality suits, the black of the suits contrast with their color, making their color shine even more and complementing their long limbs. A thick tie sits at the base of their slim metal necks, the end tucked neatly into their suits. The golden animatronic’s tie is a rich scarlet as well as his half gloves that always cover the animatronic’s hands. The blue animatronic’s tie and gloves contrast his counterparts wonderfully with their deep navy blue.

The robots are the bar's pride and joy, placed where everybody passes by, and the reason why they come here. The bar.

You noticed the animatronics the first time you visited, they were hard to miss as the owner proudly showed you them, even when it was from across the room. After that you had no time to pay the two bartenders any mind, quickly surrounded by people eager to meet you followed by your performance only to once again be surrounded by more people.

It was only your third visit that you truly saw them, and saw them you did. In the middle of your performance your gaze wandered to the bar, and what you saw was the golden robot cleaning a glass and looking at you.

You were no stranger to being looked at, your place was the stage after all, but the way the robot looked at you was different from the usual. Almost love-struck in that wonderful half-lidded lazy smile kind of way.

Your response to the animatronic’s gaze was a particular smile while singing a more romantic part of your song. This would have people hiding their faces as they reddened, have them melting on the table they are leaning on, or your favorite, bring a hand to their face as they hide their giddy giggles.

This however was not the response you got from the bartender.

Instead, you got a raised eyebrow and an amused smile, the robot placed the glass below the counter without braking eye contact. “Are you sure?” he said without making a sound. A challenge.

A challenge that you accepted.

For the rest of your performance during any particular romantic part of the song you made sure to let your gaze glide to the bar and exchange look with it’s bartender. His expression had changed ever so slightly from the first time you caught him looking. Still mostly the same but now with a hint of danger mixed in.

You could feel the tension between the bar and the stage rise with each exchanged look, neither of you breaking eye contact during the few seconds you had.

It was the most exciting performance you had in a long while, but it had to come to an end. The night just started and you needed to save your voice for your continued performance later in the night.

Immediately you were surrounded and distracted by people once you started your brake. Even though you couldn’t see the bartender you were pretty sure he saw you. Shortly after you began your brake a waiter came up to you, on a silver platter sat a single beautiful decorated crystal glass. The glass is short and wide like a whisky glass.

A rich orange liquid filled the short glass to a perfect half. When you asked the waiter who sent you the drink he simply said “It’s on the house.” You had ever the slightest hunch from whom it came. When you sipped from the glass the taste of honey sweet and yet smoky whisky filled your mouth, followed by a fruity aftertaste.

You couldn’t help the little that spread on your lips.  

Later in the evening, your performance continued. But this time it was not the golden robot tending to the bar but his blue counterpart. A little childish part of you wanted to make the two bartenders jealous of each other, make them vie for your attention.

While resting the owner had told you more about the robots, how highly advanced they were, how they are unique and that there is no second pair like them, how they work together like a well-oiled machine. “Almost like twins,” he said.

‘Twins’

Maybe you can cause a little bit of a sibling rivalry then.

Nothing too bad, just a little bit of fun.

You didn’t even need to get the robot's attention, when you let your gaze wander to the bar he was already giving it all to you. You went through the whole routine again, you smile at the bartender during a romantic part of the song, he raises one eyebrow in a challenge and you accept.     

And just like his counterpart, he did not break eye contact as the few seconds you had each song ticked by.

This went on for a few songs until his counterpart returned. When you looked back to the bar you saw the two of them talking, the blue one facing away from you and the other blocked by his counterpart. They looked neither irate or iterated, rather they looked natural at least from what you could tell during those few seconds before you returned your gaze to the guest. 

Oh, too bad.

Maybe they figured out what you trying to do and decided to ignore you then. You couldn’t really blame them, even if you did. A fun challenge ended because you wanted some excitement in your life.

When next you returned your gaze to the bar you where meet not by one but two pairs of glowing eyes, both pairs half lidded accompanied by lazy smiles. The two robots have banded together.

Two robots band together against you in order to win this challenge, that is known only to you three. They might have been at a numbers advantage, but if they thought that you were going to let them win they were in the wrong. You were not going to back out just because it got more exciting. 

And so this challenge went on for the rest of the evening and into the night, unbeknownst to the other guests in the large room. 

By the time your performance ended it was well into the night, the sun was long gone and the moon took its place in the sky.

And just like always the moment you step off the stage you were surrounded by people eager to snag all your attention for themselves. You gave them your attention, but not all. Just like on stage, you glanced towards the bar but there were no eyes meeting you.

The bartenders had returned to their duty, now that your performance was over the guests wanted their drinks. Both animatronics hands move at impossible speed around the bar, you were surprised they didn’t knock anything over at the speed at which they were moving.

Your challengers are distracted by their duty so you allowed yourself the be distracted as well.

Not long after a different waiter came up to you, on the silver platter a tall wide decorated crystal glass. It almost looked like a whine glass but not quite, that moment you decided that you’d have to brush up on your glass etiquette. The liquid inside this glass was deep red, along the edge a ring of sugar.

Again as you asked who this is from the waiter said “It is on the house.”

You toke a sip and the sweet flavor of wine spread across your tongue along with a light taste of citrus from the ring around the glass.

That’s when you decided you have to come back and come back often.

And so you did.

Over the following months, you were at the bar at the very least once a month. Every time without fail, after you went on brake or finished your performance, a waiter would come up to you with a wonderfully decorated glass and the best-tasting drink inside of it.

Once, when your voice wasn’t the best to the point where it was hard to miss that you weren’t at your best, a waiter brought you a simple glass, inside was warm milk with honey when you asked who sent it the answer was “The bar.”

Months and months have past, and a good amount of change happened both in your career and in your relation ship with the bartenders.

Career-wise you have taken off. Now recognized and sought after outside the state you were busy going to new locations, meeting new people, meeting contemporaries, and singing your new songs.

You were outside the city more often and longer, but you made it a point to always drop by your bartenders.

Your bartenders, with whom you have not exchanged a single word since you first saw each other. The bartenders with whom your relationship has developed past a simple challenge.

The looks you exchange have not increased in length, which was nigh impossible while you stand on stage, but they have increased intensity.

Their looks are no longer love-struck but devouring. Every time they look at you they drink up your entire being, as if your existence and your existence alone keeps them alive. They now let their eyes wander across your form, you never see them doing it but you can feel their eyes on you.

As their eyes travel up and down your body, drinking it in. The way you move, the way your costume lays against your skin, the slightest of wrinkles in your clothing, the smallest of hairs it doesn’t matter. They absorb it all, like a flower after drought drinking up all the water it can get.

That night when you first noticed their eyes traveling you, you almost lost the challenge. 

When your gaze followed the path it took so many times before, you saw them. Sitting behind the bar counter, leaning on it as they rested their faces in their hands. They had no shame as they showered you with their affection, attention, adoration and anything else they could give you through their eyes alone.

You immediately felt your face heat up and the urge to hide your face but you caught yourself before you looked away. Your cheeks remained a soft shade of pink trough the rest of the night and your singing had a bit more pep in your step.

Not long after you reviled a new song that made big waves and that caused you to become more known. A song about the sun and the moon, how the singer basks in the sun's warm light, how the singer would follow the moon's beautiful light anywhere and never feel alone, how the singer oh so loves the celestial bodies and their wonderful light, how they wouldn’t know how to live without them.

You let the song spread before you visited your favorite bar again, you wanted to play with them before returning the favor of a warm face. And play with them you did. You teased, called members of the audience the sun and the moon, said how the song is devoted to all and everyone. You played up how this song is to remind of the things one easily takes for granted and that whole spiel.

In the corner of your eye you could see how the robots seemed to deflate with each word. It hurt, and a lot more than you expected but you had to do it so it would hit just as hard as their affection.

When the part came where the singer talks about their love for the sun and moon you let your gaze wander before firmly landing on the bartenders, you had not looked to them before this part of the song. You didn’t care to hide your smug smile on your face as you look at your dear bartenders.

And it worked, like a charm.

They went rigid as they listened to the words coming out of your mouth, completely and fully directed at them.

The cheeks of the robots started to glow a bright orange as some mechanism in their face began to overheat, small puffs of steam expelled from their joints as they tried to cool themselves. And just like you, they almost lost the challenge.

Those few seconds felt like hours, hours their eyes were glued onto you before you released them. From the corner of your eye you could see them fanning their face, desperately trying to cool the mechanism in their face and failing.

For the rest of your performance, their cheeks remained a soft warm orange.

And now, here you are.

Sitting in front of your vanity in your brand new apartment right above your favorite bar. The owner had gifted it to you as a thanks for visiting the bar so often and coincidentally bringing in more guests and therefore income.   

Said guests have started to slowly leave the bar below as it is about to close. You can hear the distant chatter of people through your open balcony door. After one more look at yourself in your vanity mirror, checking your makeup and hair to see if it is acceptable to leave your apartment in these conditions, you get up the close the balcony door.

The chatter has significantly lessened since the beginning of closing time. The few people outside must be the last stragglers.

The bar is now officially closed.

When you return to your vanity you catch yourself in the mirror again. Your simple dark blue dress pants reach slightly over your ankle. They blend well together with your black shoes, they are not your highest shoe when it comes to heel shoes but your favorite, they give you just a few inches more.

A light green poke dot poncho hangs from your shoulders, down to your thighs. It's loose and frilly, one of your favorites. It shows enough of your silhouette but not too much, even if that doesn’t really matter since you’ve worn very form-fitting costumes on stage before.

And yet again you contemplate your looks, you have been doing this for far too long. Changing outfits, makeup, hairstyles and changing the outfit again.

You never have trouble picking an outfit for performances before. So why is it that you are struggling now to pick an outfit, your not even preparing for a performance.

You just want to finally actually meet your bartenders.

You have been exchanging looks with them for months, basically flirted with each other back and forth. Hell, you have even confessed each other's love for one another. You wrote an entire song to do it.

So why are you so nerves.

You look at yourself in the mirror for many moments and as the doubts about your clothing start to make their way back in your head and gnawing at your confidence, you all but run out the door. If you change again you’ll never meet the two.

They are already head over heels for you and so are you.

You make your way down the stairs. The staircase is illuminated by small decorative lamps along the walls, their colored glass shades bath the space in a warm yellow. With a rhythmic tack tack tack of your heals you make your way down the stairs.

Once you’re at the bottom you stand in the back hallways of the bar. No simple guest is allowed back here and yet the hallways are equally as decorated as the main floor. You haven’t had time to familiarize yourself with the all corridors, but you know the way to the stage entrance.

The path is well light and as you step on to the backstage, slowly you pass the curtain that decorates the side of the stage, the light just above welcomes you as always. Your heart is beating like insane in your chest and you have to take a couple of deep breaths to calm before you fully step out onto the stage.

The view of this usably packed place, now completely empty is more than a bit strange but that is not what you focus on. You focus on the bar and its lack of attendants. The bar sits completely empty, there is not a single metallic shine of robotic limbs to be seen. To say your heart drops would be an understatement.

Did you miss them, they should be here, they are always behind the bar. Do they just leave once the bar is closed.

Where are they.

As fear begins to pluck at your heartstrings, what if you don’t meet them now, will you ever actually meet them. Are the three of you cursed to only look at each other.

Suddenly a muffled noise from somewhere even further behind the bar gets your attention. You walk to the very edge of the stage and lean over the edge to listen for that muffled noise again.

It sounds like a conversation. And just when you think that it might be them, you see a flash of blue pass by a doorway in the bar’s wall that you didn’t even notice was there. All these months you look at the bar and nerve noticed that it has a backroom, well you were more so looking at the bartenders. But that doesn’t matter now, they are still here, you didn’t miss them.

Immediately your mood brightens by the power of the sun. You hop of the stage as quietly as possible and tiptoe your way to the bar counter. Easier said than done thanks to your heals. 

You are full of energy and nerves, your heart is doing leaps in your chest. You are as giddy as a kid whose dad is taking them to the toys shop to pick out a new toy.

In an attempt to stop the giggle building in your throat you bite your tongue. However that doesn’t stop the stupid smile on your face from spreading.

In on swift and quite motion you sit yourself on one of the bar chairs. You remain unnoticed. On top of the bar counter are two little bras bells, one with details painted in yellow and the other in blue. You have a hunch for what these bells are for.

Past the door, the conversation between the unknowing animatronics continues. You take one deep breath, then you ring both bells at once with a gentle tap of your finger. The sound the bells make is beautiful and light, but your trained ear can hear that one of the bells has a bit more reverb than the other.

The conversation comes to a stop and hear what you think is a synthetic sigh. Then out from the door steps one of your dear bartenders. His rays catch the light from above and give him the appearance of a glowing crown. His wonderful blue eyes don’t meet yours as he looks down to his hands where he works on putting his red half-glove back on his exposed hand.

His had is a wonderful shining chrome, the tips of his fingers are a brilliant yellow.

When he speaks his voice is butter-smooth and honey-sweet when he talks. “The bar is closed for tonight.” He sounds exhausted, like he had to have this conversation often. “I’ll have to ask you to leave-“

He finally looks up and meets your eyes, immediately freezing mid-step. He looks at you wide-eyed, surprised to see you of all people here.

“Oh, if you don’t want me here I can leave again.” You say as you turn on the chair as if to get up. “Ah- No. Stay.” The animatronic blurts out as he steps closer to the counter, one ungloved hand stretch out as if to stop you from leaving.

You lean back on the counter and smile at the sunbot, resting your head on the palm of your hand. “I’ll stay then.”

“Yes stay here.” The animatronic says quietly, sweetly, as he moves even closer. He drinks in your very being like he did so many times before, only closer now.

Your face warms up, about to catch fire. Already you can tell, that if he speaks even more sweetly to you, this will be a lethal encounter.

At least you know the names of your demise, after all the bar owner proudly told you their names during your very first performance.

From behind your Sun his counterpart emerges, his nightcap lazily resting on his shoulder, he is also not wearing his half gloves. Just like his counterpart, his hands are a shining chrome and his fingertips are a deep blue.

“Sun, what’s going on?”

You just about die. His voice is nothing short of heavenly. Deep and lush, simply beautiful. You can feel the vibration of his voice down your spine.

The lunar bot meets your eyes and visibly brightens. “Oh~.” You are deceased. “Finally decided to visit us~.” The animatronic says with a grin, showing his sharp teeth. He steps around his counterpart and stands next to him.

“Oh, you know. I had nothing else to do.” You lean forward, closer to them and fold your fingers together before resting your head on them. Both robots lean forward as well, closing the distance between you even more.

“Plus, I thought things were getting a bit boring, so I thought we make it a bit more exiting.” The smile that spreads across your face is smug.

Both bots raise their eyebrows, just like they did the first time. “More exciting? And how might we do that.” The golden bot asks.

Without saying a word you free your hand and reach for the sun bots face. His gaze follows your hand. Gently and slowly you reach under the bots chin and lift it, from where he was looking down at your hand, to look at you.

“Oh, nothing too big.” You say sweetly.

His internal workings kick into overdrive, the wiring inside his chest becomes louder, puffs of steam seep through his suit and the metal of his cheeks becomes a hot orange. The rays around his face fold back against his head and he stammers something before he wraps his hand around yours and removes it from his face as it is getting to hot.

However, he doesn’t let go of your hand.

Next to him, Moon lets out a dark chuckle and it’s your turn to melt.

“Playing the jealousy game again?” The bot accuses you amused. “It was worth a try. Don’t you think?” You retort playfully.

He chuckles again. His gaze lands on Sun who has slightly recovered from your flirt, now he examines your hand with a loving fascination. You follow Moon's gaze and watch Sun as he gently turns over your hand.

It is only then that you realize how much bigger Sun's hand is compared to yours, his hand completely engulfs your with ease. A few seconds later you realize how much bigger they are in general. Sitting at a bar with a human bartender, you see eye to eye but with these two you have to crane your neck to look them in the eye, even if they are already hunched over.

So lost in your realization, you barely notice the hand that is coming towards your face. Blue fingertips gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before tracing your skin and cupping your face.

You can't help but lean into the cool chrome hand and let out a small sigh. You relax as a cool thump softly draws circles on your cheek and yellow-tipped fingers work their way up your arm.

And there you remain for longer, with your dear bartenders, no longer confined to look at you, but now able to touch you just as gently as they looked at you.   

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Hello! Recently read your latest Rin piece and fell in love with your writing style :)

If you’re up for it, could I request childhood friends with Hiori? Sorry it’s a little vague, but I love the direction you’ve taken other pieces and wanted to leave the details up to you! My only suggestion on a detail would be maybe sprinkling in some light angst about his parents/backstory.

Thank you for considering!

── WHITE BUTTERFLY

Synopsis: You spend the years of your youth with Yo Hiori, in a field that’s almost lonely as the two of you.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Hiori x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: childhood friends, hiori is vaguely suicidal and also vaguely homicidal, uhh i feel like i know nothing about him as a character so popping that sexy little ooc warning in there jic, open ending, lots of #nature, almost the entire story takes place in a field so idk, hiori is like. madly in love w reader but he’s nonchalant abt it

A/N: thank you so much anon that means a lot!! cherry tree rin and y/n are so silly (<- affectionate) i’m glad you enjoyed that fic 💖 one thing about me i love a good childhood friends to lovers trope especially with angst…hiori is another character i haven’t written a ton for so i hope i interpreted him correctly and that you like what i decided to do with your prompt!! ty for requesting 🫶🏻

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

The field across from your house was melancholic and desolate, an acre or so of rolling green that bled into trees at the edges. Although by all rights it should’ve been considered a picturesque place, no amount of beauty could take away from the abandoned atmosphere which had long ago settled over the land.

According to your parents, there had been plans for a grand mansion to be built in that location, but before drafts for its construction could be drawn up, the owner had died. The son who had inherited it had no use for the plot, but neither could he be brought to sell the place of his father’s dreams, so the land had sat empty and unused for years upon years. 

People thought the area was cursed, and the general consensus was that it ought to be avoided, but your parents did not believe in things like curses and bad luck and whatnot, so they told you it was fine if you wanted to play there. You were a lonely child, prone to wandering off on your own anyways, and you supposed they must’ve reasoned to themselves that it’d be easier if you were close enough that you could run home should something happen. 

You would sit in the middle of the field, far from any prying eyes, and you’d admire the blooming plants beneath your feet. It was not just grass — there were a million and one varieties of things growing in that wild place, and you would run your fingers along their leaves, doing your best not to frighten the animals and insects which called that field their home.

They grew accustomed to you with time, and instead of shying away, they invited you into their own world. The squirrels and chipmunks would dash out from their trees to scuttle around your feet and splayed hands, while the dormice would peek out of their burrows without fear, nibbling on whatever seeds they had gathered before settling in for the day. The larks would warble to you, and if you were in a particularly cheery mood, you’d whistle back to them, trying to imitate their melodies but always falling a little short.

The third time you went to the field, you found that someone had arrived before you. For a moment, you thought that he must be a ghost, for he stood in such stark contrast to everything you had come to know that there was no other reasonable explanation for it. He was spindly and pale like a skeleton, and his shaggy hair and eyes were the color of winter, such an unnatural shade compared to the viridian he was surrounded by.

You were contemplating running away when he turned around, his eyes widening when he saw you. In his hands was a soccer ball, and resting on the soccer ball was a large white butterfly, its lazily flapping wings shimmering like a whisper in the sunlight.

You were both silent for a moment, a soft breeze rustling through the field and sounding like a song that urged you towards him despite your misgivings. Tentatively, he held the ball out towards you, but the motion startled the butterfly, which abruptly took to the air, fluttering away before either of you could react.

“Who are you?” you said.

“Yo Hiori,” he said. “Who are you?”

“Y/N L/N,” you said. “I live in the house across the street.”

“We’re neighbors, then,” he said. “My house is a few doors down from yours. Do you come here often?”

“Yes,” you said. “Do you?”

He shook his head ruefully. “This is the first time. My parents think I’m practicing soccer right now.”

“You shouldn’t do that here,” you said, frowning at the thought of him kicking up dirt and slamming a ball around carelessly through your sanctuary. “Go somewhere else if you want to play something so reckless.”

“I don’t,” he said. You furrowed your brow. “Don’t want to practice soccer, I mean.”

“I see,” you said. “Well, this is a good place to run to if that’s the case. No one will come looking for you here.”

“Is that the truth?” he said. “Really?”

“Really,” you said. “Everyone thinks it’s cursed, but in truth, I think that that just means it’s blessed.”

“Ah,” Hiori said. “But do you mind?”

“Do I mind what?” you said.

“If I keep coming here,” he said. “When I want to run away.”

“It doesn’t belong to me. I suppose you could say I belong to it, but that’s neither here nor there. No, I can’t stop you, so why would I mind?” you said.

“Are you some sort of woodland fairy?” he said. You laughed aloud.

“I wish. Are you a ghost?” you said. He shook his head.

“Nope,” he said.

“Then I guess our claims to this place are equal,” you said. “Anyways, as long as you don’t disturb it too much, I won’t be angry. I’ll do the same for you, don’t worry.”

“I don’t care what you do to it,” he said. “I just want to go somewhere that’s quiet and I can be left alone.”

This much you could understand, and you thought that perhaps Hiori would grow to be an exception to your loneliness, or an addition to it. Not a cure, because that did not exist, but a person who could relish in his own solitude and share in that inexplicable sensation which was your greatest joy.

You never saw him anywhere but in that field. You weren’t sure if he even existed outside of its context, or if he was like the dormice and the larks, a skittish creature who made his home in those grassy divots and only appeared to greet you before running back off to hide once you were gone.

At first, he was even more reserved than the animals had been. Neither of you spoke, but somehow, it happened that you were always in the same place at the same time, and eventually, little by little, the two of you became dependent on one another’s presence. Your life before meeting Hiori was pale and lifeless in comparison to your life after, and the first time you both spoke as friends instead of strangers, you thought to yourself that you could never go back to the way you had previously been.

No longer did you whistle at birds and play with squirrels; instead, you sat across from Hiori and listened to him explain things like soccer and video games. You were not particularly interested in either of these subjects, but as long as it was Hiori, you didn’t mind hearing about them. It was the cadence of his voice you were concerned with, the rise and fall of his words, the soft inflections of each syllable. 

You had never had a friend before. It was a personal choice rather than a failing; every person who tried to engage with you was met with the same disdain, for you found no appeal in any such clumsy attempts at camaraderie. In your childish mind, friendship ought to be hard-won and delicately kept, and so it remained that of all the people in the world, Hiori was the only one whose honest company you could prefer.

He was a forlorn and low-spirited boy, the winter to your bursting summer, but his coldness was the inviting sort, like a dusting of snow on a cluster of berries or frost on a forgotten bird’s nest. It did not ward you away but drew you in, your breath fogging in the air as you lay beside him and listened to him ramble on and on about whatever topics struck his fancy.

Sometimes he was prone to muteness, and on those occasions you took it upon yourself to intertwine your fingers with his, pulling him along behind you and naming every plant and tree and flower you passed by, greeting the tittering chipmunks and the cooing larks and the peeping rabbits. He would not say anything, but you knew he was listening, for he would smile slightly whenever you pointed at something he found particularly pleasing.

Every day, he would bring the soccer ball with him. He refused to put it down, but neither did he play with it or even acknowledge its existence; you sensed it vexed him, that it was the source or a symptom of the gloomy undercurrent which ran through his life, but he could not let it go, just like he could never truly be happy in any way that lasted.

“Y/N,” he said once, when you and he were lying on your backs in the grass and watching the clouds drift by. “If you could be any other creature, what would you be?”

“I don’t know,” you said, considering the question seriously. “Maybe a songbird. What about you?”

“I’d be one of those,” he said, pointing at a butterfly floating past. It was a common variety, nondescript and plain and white, but somehow made more beautiful by the ubiquity of its kind.

“Why?” you said.

“I’d live a short but carefree life, and then I would die before anyone could demand anything from me,” he said, smiling slightly and closing his eyes. “Plus, if I could be something as small and pretty as a butterfly in our meadow, then I would be able to spend my entire existence resting on your finger.”

Your meadow. You weren’t sure when it had gone from being a place you visited to a place you owned, but yes, the shift had definitely occurred. You and Hiori loved it, and so it was yours by that right alone. You reached out your hand, setting it on his heart and then closing your own eyes in a mirror of his position.

“I wouldn’t prefer that,” you said. Something cool and soft curled over your fingers; you knew without looking that it was Hiori’s own hand, which would always come to rest against yours like a magnet.

“Hm,” he said.

“I’d get used to you being there,” you explained. “And then one day you’d vanish and I’d be alone again.”

“Would you miss me?” he said.

“Very much,” you said. 

“Nobody else would,” he admitted, though he still spoke in an even monotone. “I’d be replaced quickly. Someone just as talented or even better would take my place, and then it’d be like I was never there in the first place.”

“I’d miss you,” you insisted. “I don’t care about talent. You’re someone who’s irreplaceable to me.”

“I see,” he said. “Then I guess, if not a butterfly, I would also want to be a songbird. Like you.”

“We could fly around the world together,” you said. 

“Yes,” he said. “The countries I’ve seen in my video games…we could go to them. If we were birds, we could.”

“Maybe we still can,” you said.

“We can’t,” he said. “My parents would never let me.”

“What about when we’re adults? They can’t tell you what to do then, so we can leave them behind and travel wherever we want,” you said.

“It’s a nice dream,” he said.

“Hold onto it,” you said. “That’s the only way it can ever come true.”

“Okay,” he said. “I will.”

Even as you and Hiori became older and made friends outside of one another, there was a sort of solace which only he could provide you and which in turn only you could provide him, so neither of you ever outgrew that field. The moment you got home from school, you’d drop your bag on the counter and run there as fast as you could, hoping to see him before he had to leave for soccer practice. And every time, without fail, he’d be there, waiting where he always was, his small smile widening when he saw you racing towards him.

The contents of your conversations changed, moving from games and plants to complaining about schoolwork and updating one another about your respective social lives and dramas — he went to a private academy for soccer, while you attended the public school that most kids your age went to — but the familiarity never diminished. If anything, it only increased, as any inhibitions you had had in your youths gradually fell away.

“Hiori! You’ll never believe it,” you said, moving his abandoned soccer ball aside and sitting across from him. He did not look up from the pieces of grass he was braiding together, but he nodded to indicate he was listening. “Remember those two guys I was telling you about?”

“The ones who had a crush on the same girl?” he said.

“Yup, those two,” you said. “They finally got into a fistfight over her! It was crazy.”

“Who won?” he said.

“The principal, because he broke up the brawl and suspended them both,” you said. “Thereby ruining their brief romance-novel-moment entirely.”

“That’s a pity,” he said with a snort. “I can’t imagine what possessed them to do something as stupid as beating each other up on school grounds.”

“Love makes people crazy,” you said dramatically, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead and collapsing backwards into the dirt. “You’ll understand when you feel it yourself, silly Hiori.”

“Huh?” he said.

“I mean, one day, you’ll fall madly in love with someone, and then you’ll be inclined to beat another person up for them,” you said.

“What if I already have?” he said. You shot up with a gasp.

“And you didn’t tell me? Who is it? Who, who? You can’t hide stuff like that!” you said.

“It was only a hypothetical,” he said. “There isn’t anyone. What about you? Are you madly in love with someone?”

“You’ll be the first to know when I am, but at the moment, I don’t find myself able to even tolerate any of the boys I go to school with! They’re all disgusting, immature, and insensitive. Just looking at them is enough to make me gag, so forget about falling in love!” you said.

“That sucks,” he said.

“Maybe I’ll be single forever,” you said. “I’ll live alone, with pets and a porch swing and a backyard just like this field, somewhere faraway where no one can find me.”

“What about me?” he said, taking your wrist and tying the braided grass around it like a bracelet.

“Well, I’ll tell you where I am, of course,” you said. “You’re the only one I would want as a visitor.”

“I’ll come every day,” he said.

“At that point, you might as well just live there with me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’d save you the time spent traveling back and forth.”

“Would you like me to?” he said. “I thought the point was for you to be alone.”

“If it’s you, then it wouldn’t be so bad,” you said. “Being with you is even better than being alone.”

The sun hit Hiori at the exact moment that he grinned at you, and in the back of your mind, where things were understood but not known, you recognized that of all the beings in that lovely place, he was far and away the loveliest.

A distant and rumbling thunder portended a storm on the day you learned who Hiori really was. He never went to the field if it was raining — there was no excuse for him to escape his home, and so, though you did not much mind the weather, you tended to keep to your room on those days as well. Today, though, the rain was still only a blot on the horizon, which meant you would have a precious few minutes with him before it began to pour and you had to leave again.

“Hey, Hiori,” you said. In an uncharacteristic move, he wasn’t holding onto the soccer ball; instead, it was on the ground, his foot resting atop it, his head bowed towards it and his hands balled into fists at his sides. He glanced up at you, and you were surprised to see that there was a dead, hollow quality to his eyes, which, though always placid and still, were never this shade of dark and dreary. “Is everything okay?”

“Have you ever wanted to kill someone?” he said.

“No,” you said immediately, taken aback. “Have you?”

“No,” he said. “Yes. I’m not sure. I don’t want to do it, but somehow, I want my parents to die.”

Another crack of thunder. You approached Hiori slowly, like he was a deer that would leap away the instant you were close enough to touch him. But he was not a deer, and he stayed preternaturally immobile, his harsh panting the only signal that he was a person and not a statue.

“Do you mean that?” you said when you were near enough to him that you could’ve embraced him if you wanted. “Is that really how you feel, Hiori?”

“Yes,” he said vehemently. “Yes, I mean it more than anything. Everything would be better if they would just die and leave me alone.”

He drew his leg back and slammed it into the ball. It streaked through the field, leaving a muddy rut in its wake, tearing up the grass and the flowers before crashing into a tree with a groan. You stared at the path of devastation it had wrought, wondering how such an innocent object could create such havoc, how such a simple act could have such irreversible consequences.

“That’s what soccer is,” he said when he had caught his breath and noticed your silence. “A tiring game you play to ruin yourself.”

“I thought you liked playing soccer,” you said. “You always told me how good you were at it.”

“Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean I like it,” he said. “I hate it almost as much as I hate the people that make me play it.”

“Then why do you keep going?” you said. “Why don’t you quit?”

“Because I have to,” he said. “My parents gave birth to me so that I could play soccer and be the best at it. That’s the only role I know how to conform to, so how can I do anything but accept it?”

You wrapped one arm and then the other around his torso, leaning your temple against the dip of his collarbone, turning your back to the blight he had caused and holding onto him as lightning split the sky.

“Don’t ruin yourself,” you said. “Don’t betray who you are because other people tell you to. If you don’t want to play soccer, then don’t. Quit and leave it behind. Maybe everyone else will mock you, but would it be enough if I didn’t? If I alone swore not to think any less of you, then would you be able to do it?”

“No,” he said. Something dripped onto your head, and you thought it had started raining early until you realized that Hiori’s voice was catching on nothing, his heart beating as fast as a mouse’s. “No, it wouldn’t be enough. I have to play soccer.”

“Why?” you said.

“My parents,” he said. “If I don’t play soccer — no, if I’m not good at soccer, they’ll divorce. They’ll divorce and it’ll be my fault, so I have to keep doing it, because no matter how much I hate them, I can’t be — I can’t be the reason that they — that anything bad happens to them.”

The droplets came in quicker succession, but with a final clap of thunder, the sky opened to let the rain out, blurring the line between his tears and the natural precipitation which would’ve occurred whether or not you were there.

You didn’t know what to say to him, so you opted to say nothing, pressing into him for as long as you could before you both had to go, leaving one another behind as you were always forced to. Now, though, there was a proof of your existence in the shape of that ugly gash that his soccer ball had torn into the field, an alteration which was directly a consequence of your actions. In a season or two, it would be grown over, but for the time being, it cheered you to think that the world could no longer avoid acknowledging you, acknowledging that you and Hiori were real, that you were alive and belonged.

In your second year of high school, a boy in your class came up to you, stopped you in the hallway in front of everyone and thrust a bouquet of supermarket flowers into your hands. He asked you to read the attached card, and you obliged, though you had a feeling you already knew what it said.

As you had predicted, it was an invitation to have lunch with him sometime. His cheeks were red and his smile was wide as he waited for you to say yes, but all you could think of when you looked at him was Hiori. How would he feel about this turn of events? Would he be amused or jealous or unfazed entirely? Would it even matter to him? Why were you thinking of him at a time like this?

No, that last question was one you knew the answer to already. The reason why you were thinking of Hiori was the same reason you still went to that field to see him, even though you were far too old to play with mice and birds and clovers now. It was the same reason that you recoiled from any other boy who tried to talk to you — because they were not him, they could never be him. It was because — it was because —

Much to the consternation of the audience you had unwillingly gathered, you handed the card and flowers back to the boy, shaking your head as politely as you could. There was a demand for an explanation on the tip of his tongue, but you left before he could make it. The explanation was not one you wanted to share, so you covered your ears with your hands to drown out the insults he shouted after you and strode away before he could say anything worse.

Hiori was always the first to arrive and the last to leave, so it was no surprise that he was waiting for you where he always was. Today, though, you did not bother with formalities or welcomes or lighthearted questions. You paid no mind to his antsy demeanor, instead catching his hands between your own and squeezing them.

“Y/N—”

“Hiori—”

You both called out each other’s names at the same time, with the same urgency, though there was a layer of despair when he said Y/N, just as there was pleading infused into the way you murmured Hiori.

“You first,” he said, though he looked over your shoulder, staring towards the road instead of at you. “Quickly.”

“Okay,” you said. “A boy asked me out.”

“Oh,” he said, and when his gaze slid onto you, you noticed that for the first time, there was something flaring to life in the blank depths of his irises, a veritable maelstrom of unreadable emotions twisting together and blending into something entirely other than the stillness you had come to expect from him. “What did you say?”

“I refused,” you said. “I couldn’t date him, not in good conscience. Not when I like — not when there’s someone else.”

“Someone else?” he said. “Y/N, please hurry.”

“What’s the matter?” you said, letting go of his hands so that you could instead hold his face. “Hiori, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you in trouble with your soccer team? Is that stupid crow boy causing you problems?”

“What? No, no, Karasu’s not done anything worse than usual. It’s my parents, I think they’re growing suspicious of me, I’m afraid they’ll—”

“It’s you,” you said, cutting him short, his haste rubbing off on you. You weren’t sure whether it was his anxiety or your own or some sort of divine premonition, but you suddenly felt an impending doom, as if you had to speak at that exact instant or give up the chance to ever say it again. “Hiori, you’re the reason I said no. It’s because I like you.”

Hiori, who had carved his way into your heart on the very first day you met, who was fond of butterflies and songbirds, who was bashful like winter and gentle like dusk. How could you help it? Of course you liked him. That boy who had reached into the lonely chasm of your soul and ripped it out, turned it into something lighter and warmer and whole…how could you help falling for him?

“Me?” he said in disbelief. “But—”

“So this is where you go, Yo,” a stern voice said. Hiori inhaled sharply, and then he yanked away from you, shoving you behind him, though it was far too late. You knew who had finally found the two of you, and furthermore, there was no way she hadn’t seen you. “This doesn’t look like practicing soccer. How much time have you been wasting in this dump, with this fool of a girl?”

You peered around Hiori’s back, holding onto the hem of his shirt. Fear constricted your throat when you saw a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to him standing before you, her hands on her hips, a dour expression on her face. Whatever had been sparkling in Hiori at your confession had abruptly disappeared, replaced by an even more severe version of himself.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “We just met recently.”

“Not a big deal? Think about how much better at soccer you would be if you actually spent this time practicing instead of messing around! A few minutes every day is the difference between starting for a team and being a substitute, because a few minutes every day turns to hours every week, which turns into days lost every month! You should be ashamed of yourself,” his mother said, marching over and grabbing him by the collar, wrenching him away from you. “From now on, I’ll be supervising your additional practice time. As for you, young lady…don’t even think of coming near him again. He doesn’t need distractions like you getting in the way of his ultimate goal.”

“His ultimate goal?” you said, your audacity surprising even yourself. Without Hiori’s shadow to hide you, you were entirely naked and exposed, but somehow, you found the strength in you to speak up. “What, of being the world’s best soccer player? Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe he doesn’t want that anymore, if he ever did?”

His mother scowled at you. “You are a poison of the worst sort, if you have him doubting what he’s been aiming for since he was young. Stay away from my son. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

She dragged Hiori away before either of you could manage so much as a goodbye. It was the first time since you had met him that you found yourself alone in that field, which suddenly felt so vast that you finally understood why people thought it to be cursed. It had to be, because why else would it have given you Hiori and then taken him away with such a swiftness that it left you reeling?

For a week, you continued to go to the field, just in case he would magically be there, but it was a foregone conclusion that he would not be. Still, you waited, and though the larks sang their songs and the dormice chittered at you sweetly, nothing could set your spirits right when Hiori remained missing.

On the eighth day you spent without him, you didn’t even bother with the field. Instead, you knocked on every door of every house in your small neighborhood, continuing on until the one who answered was the same woman who had stolen Hiori from you. 

She remembered you, her expression turning sour at your appearance, like you had shoved a lemon into her mouth. Shockingly, though, she did not slam the door in your face. She only cleared her throat before speaking in the most abrasive voice you had ever had the misfortune of hearing.

“What is it?” she said.

“Hiori — Yo, is he around? I just want to see him one last time. I’ll leave him alone after that if you refuse to budge, but at least let me say goodbye. I won’t ever distract him again if you give me that chance,” you said. 

“If I gave you even the slightest leeway, you’d pounce upon it, won’t you? I’m not so daft. I’m sure that, if I let you in now, you’d never leave. In the end, though, it’s irrelevant. Yo’s gone,” she said.

“Gone?” you said. “What do you mean?”

“He’s participating in a soccer training camp called Blue Lock,” his mother said. “The way they raise their players is what his father and I been trying to impress upon him from the start, so we’re glad he made the choice himself to go. Now, he can focus on his own self-improvement instead of brief dalliances that would never last.”

Hiori was gone. There was a deep ache in you, and those words were its source, yet nonetheless, for him, you could only muster up pride. He had finally done it. He had flown somewhere free of the burdens his parents placed on him; to be sure, it was defined by the soccer he despised, but nonetheless he had made the decision to do it on his own. It belonged to him, and he had spent so long without anything to his name but a deserted green that you laughed as you sobbed, leaving him behind for good.

A long time passed before you saw him again, though you watched all of his matches on TV. He had become someone different and yet still familiar while in the Blue Lock program — he was sharper now, sharper and quicker, his eyes constantly burning in the same way they had on the day he had left you. Most notably, you thought that that childish love for soccer which he had had and then lost had blossomed again, now into a stable, unshakeable passion which no one, not even his parents, could take from him.

You had probably also changed, though of course it was harder to recognize it in yourself than in another person. But you were not so sparing with your offers of friendship anymore, and neither were you harsh to every boy who approached you. With Hiori gone, the only reservations you had were feeble and pointless, so you stopped saying no quite as often.

Nothing ever came of these school-type romances. Inevitably, you’d walk home and your eyes would stray to the spot where you had spent so much of your childhood with Hiori, whereupon you would pull out your phone and send a formulaic apology message. Sorry, but it’s not working. There’s nothing wrong with you, but I don’t think we’re a good match for each other. Thanks for taking me out. I really appreciate it.

The longer it became, the less frequently you thought about him. He turned into a memory, fuzzy around the edges with nostalgia and tinged with gold. He was someone you claimed to know around those with a more vested interest in soccer, but deep inside, you had accepted that your path had diverged from his a long time ago. You and Hiori weren’t meant to sit beside one another for eternity; he had been there when you needed him, but it was time for you to stand on your own, as he was clearly doing all of the way over in Blue Lock.

“I can’t believe you’ve finally graduated high school!” your mother said, sniffing as she took a million photos of you standing awkwardly, your diploma in your hands, your gown hanging loosely on your body and the pins holding up your cap jabbing into your scalp. “We’re so proud of you, dear.”

“Next stop, Tokyo!” your father said, swiping at the tears which rolled shamelessly down his cheeks.

You had been accepted into the University of Tokyo, and at the end of the summer, you would move into your own apartment, leagues away from everything you had known for your entire life. It was exciting, but it was also terrifying, because the thought of being all alone in the bustling metropolis still made you break into a cold sweat.

Now that you had officially graduated, it all seemed so much more real. Going to Tokyo, attending university, getting a job and supporting yourself…these were not dreams of a distant future but immediate and pressing concerns that weighed on you.

Once you became a university student and then an adult proper, you visited home less and less. You hardly had the time, and anyways there wasn’t much to do in that town, so instead your parents would take trips up to visit you when they missed you terribly — which was often. They would update you on the happenings of your neighbors, and you would take them to your favorite restaurants and attractions, like they were foreign tourists coming to the country for the first time. 

“You know, they finally finished construction on that plot across from our house,” your mother said to you on one such visit, taking a sip of bubble tea to punctuate the outrageous statement. There were streaks of gray in her hair now, and far more lines on her face than there had been when you were younger, but she wore the signs of age with grace and dignity, so that they were weapons instead of faults. 

“You never told me someone bought it,” you said. So that was that, then; the last remnants of your tender friendship with a boy you had not spoken to in years was all but destroyed now. It belonged to another person, who would make their own memories on the land, and the thought of two other people standing where you and Hiori once had caused a lump to arise in your throat. It was as much grief for the idyllic days of your childhood as it was for your former best friend. Both were lost to you now, and both you mourned in equal measure, though you knew no amount of crying would ever bring them back.

Perhaps there had been a window of time in which you might’ve been able to reconnect with Hiori, but the idea hadn’t crossed your mind until it was far too late, and you supposed it must’ve been the same for him. Or maybe he had, upon joining Blue Lock and becoming an international celebrity, forgotten about you entirely. It was a possibility, and no matter how much it stung, it was one you did not resent him for.

“Yes, it was a while ago. Apparently, he lived in the area when he was younger, but he left to pursue some athletic career? Anyways, now that he’s rich, he wanted to invest in some property close to home, so as soon as the previous owner died, he swooped in and bought the entire field up. You know, considering how much money he has, the house is downright quaint in its design,” your mother said, shaking her head. She had a penchant for gossip, and you could not count on two hands the amount of days you both had spent giggling with each other about silly, inconsequential matters. This, though, crossed the line — it wasn’t dumb gossip but legitimate news.

“Athletic career? Do you…do you happen to remember what sport?” you said. 

“No idea,” your mother said. “Why?”

“Was it soccer?” you said. She choked on a pearl of boba. Absently, you leaned over and slapped her on the back to help dislodge it. She coughed and dabbed at her face with a napkin before nodding.

“Ah, yes, that sounds familiar!” she said. “I think that might be it.”

“I’m going to take the next few days off and visit you guys,” you said. It was a spur of the moment decision, but you could afford it, and something told you that what you would find would be far more valuable than another day at your boring, if not well-paying, job.

“Really? That’s wonderful! You’ll love how things have changed. The place has really come to life in the past couple of years,” she said.

The train ride home from Tokyo was just over two hours, and it ran through a familiar countryside, which you watched for the entire journey, smiling slightly whenever you rushed by a landmark you recognized. By the end, however, it seemed every sight was a landmark of some sort — not the nationally important ones, but the type that was personally significant. The many little places you had visited when you were young…even now, you recollected them with startling clarity.

Your father was delighted that you had returned home with your mother, and the whole house smelled like his cooking when you walked in through the front door. He must’ve begun preparing as soon as you had mentioned that you were coming back for a bit, and the grumble of your stomach warned you that you would regret it if you did not hold off on your investigation until after dinner.

You sat in the same chair you had once sat in and ate the same food you had once eaten. It was your favorite as a little girl, and your father served it to you personally, his lower lip trembling as he ladled two portions onto your plate instead of one. Hardly even a month had passed since he had seen you last, but he had always been an emotional man, bawling like a child at every reunion and separation alike.

The sun was setting when you excused yourself, placing your dishes in the sink and ducking outside under the pretense of needing a walk to digest your food. Well, it was only half a pretense — your father truly had fed you until you thought your stomach might split open, as was characteristic of his affection. You really did need to walk around so that your insides could settle, but more importantly than that, you wanted to confirm the theory which had been brewing in your mind since your mother had brought it up.

As she had said, there was a brand new house across from yours. It was nothing like the grand mansion that the original owner must’ve intended to sit on the land; it had a winsome yet unassuming charm to it, and it only took up about half of the field, while the rest of it had been left entirely alone, still green and wild like you recalled it to be. You were sure that if you looked close enough, you would find the dormice and the squirrels and the chipmunks and the larks exactly where you had left them as well, but you did not have the time nor the patience for that at present.

When you climbed the porch steps, you noticed that to the left of the door was a cushioned swing, atop which a tortoiseshell cat was dozing. At the sound of your footsteps, she opened one champagne-colored eye, but she did not seem to regard you as worthy of her attention, for she promptly closed it and returned to her rest.

Your fingers hesitated on the doorbell, resting on the button, too scared to press down. You didn’t know what you had to be afraid of, but for some reason, you were nervous, a pit forming in your stomach as you deliberated over what to do. Before you could make up your mind, the cat meowed at someone in greeting, jumping off of the swing with a light thud.

Spinning around, you saw that the owner of the house was standing at the bottom of the steps, the cat rubbing against his legs as he beamed up at you. Any lingering doubts of yours dissipated into nothingness at the instant you once again made eye contact with Yo Hiori; like a reflex, the corners of your mouth curved upwards in a fond greeting.

Like always, in his hands was a soccer ball, though more prominent than the ball itself was the butterfly which lay on it in repose. Its white wings were thin and quivering, but curiously, when Hiori held the ball out to you, it did not fly off, instead remaining stationary, waiting for you to reach out and take it.

[sim-patelle]

Francis Mosses headcanons

sfw, nsfw mentioned ¬> MDNI

neutral!reader, it's really sweet, the tired guy, from the game "That's not my neighbor", MILKMAN

Artist from the fanart : @__kozuu on X(Twitter)

Looks

His hands + fingers are long and slim, a little bit brighter skin tone than his usual skin (yk cus cold)

His knuckles are a bit raw, just a little bit

Has cold hands definitely

Height between 5'10 and 6'2

Definitely is slim, but a little defined six pack

Not that wide shoulders, more like average

Had Scoliosis as a kid

A bit longer arms

Always looks kind of pale because he's tired all the time

Has defined cheekbones and jawline

clothes & jewelry

Mostly wears straight black jeans or trousers

He has black cardigans

He literally doesn't know any other color to wear except white, black, Grey and grey-blue

He needs clothing education from you

Only has a slim silver ring on his right middle finger as jewlery

But also wears a watch with him, just not on his wrist but in the pocket of his jeans

Anything pt. 1

Definitely listens to true crime podcasts (how ironic haha)

But when music is on his ears, it's mostly Falco, Joy Division, Taco and The Police

Still kind of Lana del Rey coded

I'd say he has a big brother who had asked him for money several times, but Francis got tired of it

Regrets his job, or at least wants to change his occupation

If he reads he has extra glasses for it, otherwise his eyes will burn

Reads mostly magazines about architecture and daily news

He definitely is a person that reads the newspapers

Physical activity

Challenge him to a fight and he'd win easily because even though he's slim, he surely has strength in his legs and arms

Flexible as hell

Can play basketball, but you need to build up endurance with him

Took some surfboard lessons in the past, but never surely can ride a wave in perfection

Today he mostly is busy with his job and chores, that he doesn't do any sports anymore

Appartment

Messy, his appartment is quite dirty, but still okay to look at

But definetly don't go into the kitchen

He only washes the dishes once in a week

Please show this man some color, his appartment is only decorated with white and black things

The plants he has are dried out, even the cacti

But Francis's bathroom is really clean

Like really clean

If you would enter the bathroom with shoes, he'd literally throw you out

He only once all 3 months has the urge to really clean his appartment

relationships

Had gone through a divorce in his mid 20's

Since then he never really trusted anyone, except you

You finally showed him how acception feels

He's grateful to have you

And he shows it by gift giving and acts of service

Since you are there, he finally tries to get his life together

Don't expect to get many words of affirmation, because you know he's an introvert

He loves to listen to you

He'd lean on the palm of his hand with his head and slightly smiles as he listens to you yapping

Then out of nowhere, he'd say how much he loves you

When you both go to sleep, he is on the side of the wall, with his back on it

He'd gently wrap his arms around you from behind, that you back is on his stomach

It's beautiful to sleep like that, when you're the little spoon

Often kisses your hand and scalp, everytime when he greets you

His hand would look so beautiful on your forearm, covering it almost fully

Nsfw ¬> MDNI

You know what those fingers could do..

And not only his fingers

Gentle Dom and Switch

Loves to see you over him as you sit down on his dick, his slim arms holding onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed

He's a hickey guy, but not like an owner thing, he doesn't really like to 'own' you, you are an individual and he loves how independent you are

He definitely loves when his eyes are covered with a blindfold when you take charge

he would also be the type who would start to whimper slightly when you put your hand over his mouth, when he's close to releasing

And when you do, god he comes so much

He's not really someone noisy, but he knows that you like it, so you hear his heavy breaths all the time and sometimes little grunts, and as mentioned the little whimpers

You always have your hands intertwined, he just loves to press your hands

It's also a safe-word thing between you two

accidently called you "mommy" one time

Mostly would say pet names like "honey", "my little one", "darling"

When you press his hand three times fast in a row, he knows to slow down or stop if you want it

It's really important for him to know you're alright

Would try out anything you want to try out with him and he'd be honest with you when he likes it or not

Is proud of you when you take his length all in you

He mostly would fuck you in the appartment, mostly on the couch or bed

But if the kitchen is clean, then definitely there, 100%

Would say things like: "I know you like that", "show me a little more honey", "you are so beautiful", "take it a bit more", "I'll be so good to you"

Anything pt. 2

Doesn't really drink Limonade or any other drink like that

Just give him water and he'll be fine

But istg don't give him milk, he'd freak out because he can't see it anymore

He'd fall asleep first when you wanna watch a series with him, you know why

Francis finally looks relaxed when he falls asleep next to you, his head leaning onto your shoulder or head

You have so many pictures of him sleeping

Francis always buys groceries when they're reduced

Drank too much energy drinks that they don't even help him anymore

When you once gave him a rose, he literally couldn't keep it together and you bet you saw a little tear in his eyes

He immediately wrapped his arms around you and didn't let you go for 10 minutes

He is just so happy to have you

And you are happy to be someone so special to him, that he got a picture from you next to his bed

[scorpioriesling]

Enchanted

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Pairing(s): Rhysand x reader

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Every birthday girl makes a wish... yours has been the same for years. One you began to doubt would ever come true; but what happens when it does?

SR’s Note: I am honestly giggling and kicking my feet over this one, and lately Rhys hasn't even been my favorite... I don't care. I like how this turned out. Based on Enchanted by Taylor Swift, of course. Enjoy (:

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Everything about the final day of Autumn was as it usually was; the cool sun bathing the Velaris cobblestone in light, the crisp breeze ruffling your hair, causing you to pull your cloak tighter around your shoulders. Even the townsfolk presented the same familiar faces you’d seen nearly every day now on your way to the public library.

Today was a treat; the day before your birthday, of course. The first day of the Winter season would mark the day of your birth, and usually you’d spend the day before spoiling yourself as you’d usually end up having to work on said birthday. This year, it was no different.

That is, before two large Illyrian warriors donning seven gleaming siphons each landed right in the middle of the square, their enormous bat wings spread wide. The townspeople, as well as yourself, whirled in shock at the sight. After straightening, the taller one (Cassian? You thought?) cleared his throat.

“Greetings, Velaris,” he said, voice echoing down every corridor and alleyway around you. Every wide-eyed fae stared back in awe as he looked from person to person.

“As you know, the High Lord will be having his annual Winter Ball tomorrow evening,” he continued. You’d known; it was an annual tradition. One you’d always ended up working as the bakery your parents owned supplied the delicacies for the event.

“…andddd this year, the High Lord has made it very clear that the celebration is to be extended.” He coughs. Gasps and murmurs begin around you, and you glance side to side as chatter begins.

“The ballroom cannot accommodate all of Velaris; so only a select few will be receiving invitations.” The spymaster calmly cuts in, and the chattering crowd around you stops. All eyes return to the pair in the middle of the street.

“The festivities are to be celebrated here in the city, though, should you not attend the ball,” Cassian fumbles. His brother raises his eyebrows, releasing a breath and gazing at the crowd once more.

“If you’re to be invited; you should expect to receive an invitation in your mailbox by this afternoon.”

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You practically jumped on the mail man when he approached your drive, scaring him half to death as his letters tumbled from his hands.

“I’m so sorry! I’m, um… just, really hoping something came for me today.” You laugh sheepishly as he thrusts a pile of letters into your hands.

“Yeah, you and every other female in Velaris.” He continues on his route with a hmmph, and you begin anxiously thumbing through the letters.

You almost trip when you finally make it back into your small flat, sitting at the kitchen table. Your hand shakes as you get to the last envelope in the pile, only one elegant word written across the front of it.

Y/N.

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“I don’t know if that’s the right… I don’t know, color?” Your best friend eyes you in the mirror, and you twist to one side, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“Maybe not. I don’t know, it’s just not quite… right.” She says, the statement only a repetition of how your morning’s been going. You’ve spent the entire morning trying to find a gown for the ball tonight, but every single one you’ve tried just isn’t quite… the one.

You let out a frustrated sigh, and your friend / shop owner flits toward a wall of dresses, brushing through them once more.

“I feel like I’ve tried on a million,” you say. She returns just a moment later, a lovely steel silver gown in hand. You raise your brows at her.

“Yes, but, it’d be dress one million and one that might catch the High Lord’s attention.” You can’t help but blush, turning from her. It was no secret you found the High Lord of the Night Court quite intriguing; Gods, half of Prythian did.

She tsked at you and shooed you towards the dressing chamber, only for you to reappear a moment later in the gown. She didn’t hide back the gasp, or stunned expression on her face as you approached the mirror to look yourself.

“Oh come now, it can’t be…” But, it was. Seeing it in the reflection, you understood her reaction a little more. You were breathtaking; this one. It had to be this one.

You spend a good few minutes twirling, admiring the gown hugging you in all the right places. You finally glance down at the price tag, and your heart sinks. It was way too expensive.

“I don’t think I can…” You say. Your friend shakes her head, leading you back to the dressing room to change.

“Nonsense.” She says. You stare at her, a blank expression on your face.

“I can’t afford it.” You say. She only winks at you before shutting the chamber curtain, allowing you privacy.

“Consider it a birthday gift!”

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You'd never been to one of these before; not coming from a wealthy family, or even being High Fae yourself, there was never any reason to attend such an event held by Night Court royalty.

Yet, here you stood. In front of the polished black gate, separating you from the awaiting festivities inside.

"Uhh.. miss?" You turn, to see another guest had silently approached at your side. "Are you going in?"

You nod. "Yes! Yes, I'm sorry if I held you up-" He shakes his head, a small smile offerred to you as the gates open and he steps beyond. He looks over his shoulder to you.

"No worries... but, I think it's beginning soon?" You hear the groaning of the iron bars and quickly step inside, keeping in step with this new aquiantence. You politely converse until you've reached the main building, and females in lovely gowns pass by you. You nervously look around; maybe you should've prepared better for this.

"I'll see you around," with a small wave, your company stalks off toward a group of males he seems to know. You sigh, taking in the beauty around you. The gleaming faelights, all of the attendees meandering around you, the scent of jasmine in the air-

"I personally want to thank you all for your attendance tonight," you hear, and the room is instantly filled with silence. All eyes are peering toward the front of the room, and the crowd shuffles together to hear the speaker more clearly. You try and get a good look, but you can't really see over everyone's heads.

"I haven't had one of these events in a while where I get to invite our court's friends to join us, and as this marks the first night of Winter," the voice drawls. It sounds lovely, as though it was coming from a cello - deep and smooth. Not like the sounds from Azriel or Cassian, but this one was much different.

"...we are very happy you're all here. So, let the dancing commence!" And with that, the crowd is in a frenzy, chattering and partnering off for the first dance of the evening. Your cheeks heat in embarassment as you realize you have no one to dance with, and you recede towards the stone wall to hide in the shadows for this one. You feel a light hand on your elbow, and you whirl around to come face-to-face with the kind male from earlier.

"I don't have a partner either..." He says, his cheeks flushing rosey-pink. You give him a soft smile, your embarassment fading with every passing second.

"I'd love to dance with you." You slide your hand into his and pull him to the middle of the crowd, just as the music begins. His hand rests on your lower back, the cold metal ring on his finger sending a chill up your spine. You suck in a breath as he pulls you closer to his chest.

"Is this... alright?" He asks. You nod, resting your free hand on his shoulder. Now that you're close to him, you get a better view of his face; his sharp jaw, auburn freckles dusting over his nose. His sultry amber eyes that match the flaming locks upon his head; he truly is beautiful.

But not the reason you came tonight.

He engages in polite conversation as you continue the waltz, asking you about yourself, laughing and making light jokes with you inbetween the spinning and dipping as the music intensifies. You laugh with him, appreciating him more and more by the minute. When he's turned you around, his back to the dias at the head of the room, you swear you meet those violet eyes, staring right back at you. Maybe you're just thinking wishfully, maybe... maybe he is just looking at everyone, but he looked irritated, besides the sweet sentiment he'd made before.

You have to look away, your partner realizing you're staring.

"Is, everything okay?" He politely asks you. You nod, reassuring him everything was. But it wasn't. You were living in this moment; the music, the liveliness of the room, the way you were pushed so close with this male's hand on your waist-

But it still wasn't who you wanted.

You wanted him.

His hands on you. Your body against him. His eyes looking into yours.

You felt like a fool for thinking that coming here would change anything for you.

"I, uhm," your partner fumbles for words to distract you. "I didn't catch your name?" He asks. You meet his gaze, smiling again at him. You knew the High Lord wouldn't need or want you, so you may as well make the most of your night while it lasts.

"Y/N," you reply. He grins.

"What a lovely name," he tucks a flyaway tendril of hair behind your ear, eyes catching when it is exposed. He immediately sees it is rounded; and shame courses through you again as you know he is High Fae.

He clears his throat. "What a beautiful name," he reiterates. "...for a beautiful girl." You can't help but blush at his words, this male is laying the flirting on you thick. Doing quite well at that, too.

"Why thank you," you say, voice feeling small. You didn't register that the song had already changed, your bodies abseltmindedly falling into rhythm as you continue to sway with the music.

"I should probably relieve you from me," he says, dipping his head and huffing a small smirk. "Had I known who you were, I would have let you dance with someone else. I'm sure Rhys will have my ass for this anyway," he concludes. You furrow a brow, as the song engages in the final chorus.

"Whatever do you mean?" You ask. He opens his mouth to answer, but clapping erupts and conversations get too loud around you. What was he even talking about? You'd never met the High Lord, not officially, anyway. Maybe in passing, but there was nothing there.

Suddenly the room feels too small, too warm, his hand on your back feels like fire and you feel like you are sweating. You could pass out, you just needed a minute to breathe and get out of this crowded room.

"I have to um," you shout, over the loud conversing around you. "I need a breath of air!" You say. He nods, and pulls you close, hands still holding yours.

"Do you want me to come with you?" He politely asks. You lean back, meeting his eyes and shake your head.

"I'll be fine!" You say loudly. He nods, and you lean up and kiss his cheek. "I'll find you later?" You say, and he grins at you. What a cutie.

You search for an exit, clammy hands brushing the sides of your skirts. You find an open doorway, and travel down a side hall that leads to an unmarked door. Chest tight, you open it -- revealing the most wonderful sight you've ever seen.

You step out onto the stone terrace, walking all the way to the railed edge to get the best view. You let out a gasp; you can see all of Velaris from here. Soft music echoes from beyond, and you watch as a single shooting star stretches across the sky.

"This is, my favorite place to see the whole city too." You turn abruptly, not realizing someone had followed you. You stare in shock as Rhysand leans against the open doorway, arms folded, and one ankle crossed over the other. You immediately get embarassed again, remembering this is his building and his terrace and you were out here without permission-

"No need to worry, darling." He strides over to you, and you feel a tiny tickling inside your head. Your fingers brush your temple on instinct, and you remember that he could in fact see what you were thinking.

"Enjoying the ball?" He asks, his silky tenor causing your attempt to clear your mind to fail. You huff, turning back to the city beyond. He puts his hands on the balcony railing next to you, one hand nearly brushing yours.

"Oh! Um... yes. Yes I have been." Your mind flashes to the dances you'd shared with the readhead, how he held you, and how you'd wished it was Rhys the whole time...

Clear your mind, Cauldron! He could easily see what you were thinking.

"That's... great." His sudden clipped tone had you side-eyeing him. The night seemed to radiate off of him, the onyx crown atop his head gleaming in the moonlight. He was definately intimidating, but you remembered what your new friend said. Did you even catch his name? No. You were too focused on the High Lord, though this other man was nothing but nice to you.

Cauldron, boil you.

"Can I ask you something?" You say. He angles his head to you, a small smirk pulling the corner of his lips up.

"You'd like to know why I asked you here tonight?" He answers. You gape at him, and he chuckles, the sound like soft rain outside an open window.

"How did you-" You begin, and he turns to you, a hand tracing his knucles down the side of your face. You flush at the contact, as this was something you'd only ever hope for in a dream.

"This... is something we can work on later." He looks at the top of your head, the idea of mind shielding grazing your brain.

Has he been inside your head this whole time?

You almost feel violated; if it was anyone but him, you'd tell them to leave you be. But... you couldn't. He was finally here, with you -- but, you can't help from a little bit of your attitude peeking through.

"If you wanted me here so damn bad, whatever the reason may be," you start, pulling back an inch from his touch. His brows raise in amusement. "Why were you pouting about in there? I didn't even see you dance once." You finish. His gaze softens, and his free hand brushes yours on the railing. The hand that once grazed your cheek is now gliding down your arm, tracing over every inch of exposed skin.

"The partner I wanted was already taken." He answers lowly. You don't miss the way his eyes darken a bit, and you bite the inside of your cheek hard to try and stop from freaking out and dissolving into a puddle right then and there.

"Well..." You begin, taking one step closer to him. The soft scent of sea salt and nectarines graces your nose -- of course, one of your favorites. His gaze stays locked on you, drinking in every inch of you with his eyes.

"I'm not now." You say, as confidently as you can muster. His lips twist, trying to supress the huge smile he eventually allows to take over his face. You can't help but smile back; his gorgeous features only more enticing up close. His hand slips around the curve of your waist, pulling you in closer. Your breath catches, as his other hand guides your idle ones to his neck.

"I've waited much too long for this," he says. You are sure you look like a tomato; there was no way he was fawning over you like this. The way you'd done, every night in your room; every day in Velaris, constant reminders of him all over the city; every year when you'd use your bithday wish just to see him, just once -- and there he would be, waltzing into your parents shop before the ball as if he wasn't reducing you to mush each time.

"I'm not very good," he admits with a small laugh. You don't know what the hell comes over you, but you don't allow him enough time to read your mind before the words are spilling out-

"I don't need good. I need you." You take the lead, swaying to the distant music from the walls beyond and streets below, and he only follows. Its his turn to feel flattered, as his hands gently trail up and down your waist. You try your best to keep from shaking in excitement; but it isn't long before you see another star flying across the sky. He glances in your line of sight, grinning and letting one hand go of you. He takes the gleaming onyx crown off his head, replacing it atop yours, tucked behind the brained crown near the top.

You stare at him wide eyed as he pulls your body flush with his, leaning in to whisper, "I'm enchanted to finally meet you," as his soft lips lightly graze the shell of your ear. You can't help but let out a small chuckle, not knowing if you are going to cry or not. You could; you'd only wished for this very thing for years and years.

"You truly are a princess," he drawls on, fingers tracing your jaw lightly. His gaze flicks to the star trailing across the sky, and back to you once more. "One that still needs to make her birthday wish."

Your hands play with the soft hair near the nape of his neck, eyes loving the way he practically wills your mouth to his. It's like there is a thread, a rope connecting the two of you, and he is using his end to pull you closer, closer...

He finally kisses you, softly cupping your jaw as your hands slide down his chest. Pressed against him like this, that rope feels more like a threat tied so tight, golden aura coming from deep within you at the scene around you. He slowly pulls back, eyes searching yours for reassurance. You only reach up and swipe a tear away from his cheek, the new feeling connecting the two of you reassurance enough.

"I don't have one this year; it has already come true."

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[amathslutsguidetofandom]

Heyyy I absolutely love your work!! Could I request a drabble of Bucky being completely smitten with the reader or a headcanon when the reader is sick??? Merci beaucoup mademoiselle🫶💖

Two Floors

PAIRINGS: 40's!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: FLUFF, angst (if you squint), mentions of not haveing enough money

WORD COUNT: 1,759 (got carried away lol)

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

“Oh c’mon doll, can’t leave a poor man hangin’,” he says as he runs to catch up with you. You roll your eyes as he comes to walk along side you.

“Buchanan, I told you to go annoy Rogers instead. I have much more important things to do,” you bite in his direction as you make your way through the streets of Brooklyn.

Graduating high school, a month ago with your best friends, Bucky and Steve, was something your dreamed of when you met the two boys the first time your moved into the old apartment complex.

Since then, the three of you have become inseparable.

But something eats away at your heart, a painful piece of emotion that just slowly chews away at your peace.

“You got a job already?” Bucky asks as he slides his hands into his pockets. You adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder and nod your head, “just a small secretary job at the library. Enough to earn something until I finally decided what I wanna do with my life.”

Bucky laughs and lets out a low whistle, “still that ‘always need to know whay my future is’ type o’ girl, yeah?” You shake your head and slap his arm, “quit it, Buchanan. Or I’m telling Winnie your being an ass.”

Bucky rubs his arm, a little sore from your slap. “My ma trusts you more than the Lord himself,” Bucky comments, the loosely swinging his arm over your shoulder.

You doesn’t push it away.

“That’s because I don’t go bring random girls back home and make them scream my name in the middle of the night,” you smirk as you reveal you know of his nightly activities.

Bucky stops, forcing her stop. The look on his face is horrific and you snort and slap his chest at his reaction. “How’d you-,” he starts, but you continue to laugh.

“Becca tells me everything, Buchanan,” you wink at him before you start walking again. He breaks out of his reverie and jogs to catch up with you, “doll, it ain’t like that.”

You laugh and shake your head, “do I look like I care who you mess around with, Buchanan?” He pauses and shakes his head, it looks like to you he’s a bit upset, “no, you don’t”

You were about to say something else, but something caught your eye.

You stop and gasp as you walk towards the window of the shop.

The great glass pane with the large painted letters on it does not stop you from viewing the contents inside of the store.

The dainty little locket sits at the back of the display, hiding behind all the extravagant jewels. You know that the owner would’ve expected people to look at the jewels.

But the locket, it hangs lovingly from a thin gold chain. The oval case rests just in between the collarbone.

You think it’s the most beautiful piece you’ve ever seen.

Bucky see’s you view the locket and how in awe you are in as you frame a picture of it in your mind.

“Why don’t you get it,” Bucky suggests, nodding at the piece of jewellry. You let out a sad laugh, “because it costs more than our parents’ rent combined, Buchanan.”

You bite your lip while still looking at the necklace, “a girl could dream.”

You sigh and pull away, “let’s go.”

------- The Rogers’, the Barnes’ and your parents all stand in front of you as they sing ‘Happy Birthday’ for the eighteenth time in your life.

After they finish the song, out of key, you drag the simple knife down the cake, and they start cheering.

Your mother cuts up slices and hands it to everyone, you get up from the dining table and smooth out the wrinkles of the emerald green cotton dress your mother sewed for you.

The dad’s gather as they converse about the lastest sports, the mom’s are in the kitchen laughing as the cook dinner. Steve, Bucky, Rebecca and you sit in the living room.

You go against the opinions of Steve’s and Bucky’s as they complain about how high school was the worst time of their life.

“Look guys, you can’t say that,” you chastise them softly, “Becca, you’re in your junior year. It’s one of the best times you’ll ever experience.”

Becca nods, as Steve shakes his head to Bucky and Bucky mouths a ‘No’ in Becca’s direction.

“Buchanan,” you throw the couch pillow at him.

-------

“Hey, can I come in?” Bucky knocks on the window of your bedroom.

The party was over, and you’re parents went out to have a quick little dinner. They were upset because they didn’t want to leave you on your special day, but you knew how hard they’ve been working, and they didn’t have time to themselves. So you pushed them out the door and yelled a ‘have a great time’.

Bucky crouches on metal ridges that is your fire escape, waiting for your permission to enter your room.

You jump out of bed and raise your window a bit higher so he can fit in. “Are you out of your mind, Buchanan?” You whisper-yell at him.

He shrugs, “what? I live two floors above your doll, nothing to be worried about.” The wink he throws you way, makes you roll your eyes.

But there’s a place in your heart where it instantly becomes warm.

Because, even if Bucky was a player at times, he still caught your heart.

You did roll your eyes at his antics. But your smile was true from how playful he is.

You’d say ‘Quit it, Buchanan’, but in your mind you’d always whisper a ‘Don’t ever stop’.

You knew you were falling for Bucky, but you always forced those feelings down.

Because you knew, he won’t feel the same.

“What needed my attention so badly, that you had climb down to get here,” you cross your arms and narrow you’re eyes at him.

He smirks and sits on your bed, “well, I haven’t given you my present yet.”

You freeze.

You’re also confused.

“What? Of course you did, your family gifted me the Aesop Fable set,” you say as you walk to stand in front of him.

You vividly remember getting the gift, because it was something you have been telling Becca about for so long. And you squealed when you opened their present

But Bucky shakes his head, “no doll. They gave you, their gift. I haven’t given you mine.”

You pause, and you swear your heart starts beating a little faster.

“What”? You whisper, because you know you voice will crack if you spoke louder.

He pats the space next to him, “sit down, doll.”

You gulp and go sit down next to him, you obediently place you hands on your thighs as you wait for the next part.

Bucky gives a smile. But it’s different, you have never seen this look on Bucky before. The softness of his eyes, the way his cheeks are slightly flushed, the little crinkles at the corners of his lips as he maintains that smile.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny box.

The box looked like it was originally used to store a single chocolate ball, but the lettering on it worn out and the edges are a bit jagged.

You look at bucky with confusion, “what is thi-.”

He interrupts you, “just open it f’me, doll.”

And you do.

“Bucky, no.”

The locket stares back up at you, the gold glints under the light of your room.

“You-you can’t be serious, thi-this has to be a joke,” you turn to face him with tears lining your eyes. You heart has never beaten so fast in your entire life.

Bucky’s grin widens and nods, “got it this morning, just for you.” He says your name so softly that you think it might break if he said it to harshly.

You wrap your arms around his neck and push your head against his shoulder as you whisper your million ‘thank you’s’.

Bucky chuckles and rubs your back, “anything for you, doll.”

“Why, why me? Why this?” you shake your head against him.

“Because I gotta tell the girl, who lives two floors below me, that I’m in love with her,” Bucky pulls back and cups the back of your neck.

You gasp softly and furrow your brows at him, your shock so evident on your face.

“Gotta tell her that I’ve been after her since the day she moved into this building,” Bucky leans in and you follow.

How have you been so daft to not see this?

You close your eyes and stop until you’re a hair width’s away from Bucky’s lips.

“Gotta tell her how much I’ve been dreamin’ about her, and how she’s the only thing on my mind,” Bucky whispers, and you feel his breath hits your lips.

He softly places his lips on yours, and you move your hands to cup his face. You both move your lips in tandem to the other, as you try to feel more of one another.

He pulls away breathlessly and you follow suit.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a long time, doll,” he chuckles and leans in to place soft kisses on your jaw.

You giggle and whisper a ‘me too’.

Bucky takes the locket from your hands and starts to put it on for you.

He soon as he done, he leans back and sees how beautifully the necklace sits just above the dip of your collarbone.

“Open it up,” he nods at the locket. You smile and follow his orders, you gasp as you see a picture of your seventeenth birthday, with the Rogers’ and Barnes’, at Coney Island. And the other side had a picture of you and Bucky at Prom.

You didn’t have a date, well you did but he stood you up. So Bucky stepped in and became your man for the night.

You look up at him and have no words to say.

“I-,” you start but can’t finish your sentence.

“I know, doll. I know,” he smiles. “Been saving those tiny pictures for a while, but it was worth it,” he leans in and presses his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes and relish this feeling that hangs in the air.

The feeling that you have been wanting to feel for so long now, it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Bucky?” you whisper.

“Hmm, doll,�� he whispers back.

“I love you.”

“I love you, doll.”

💌💌💌

OMG! MY FIRST EVER ANON!!

HELLO NONNIE!!!

Love this ask, I've always had this idea in mind, but never really knew how to write it.

I guess this is just a messy way of writing it lol.

I hope this is what you were looking for nonnie!!!

Lemme know what you lovelies think!!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[unknowntoyou2205]

Fear turns into confession (2/4)

Info: Y/n joins intelligence on a case, leaving Jay distracted from his job.

Requested by @maybankangel

Series masterlist

Two weeks had passed since y/n had returned from the army. Jay and her had become close, spending many evenings hanging out, with Mouse joining them sometimes. Erin still felt bitter about y/n and her bitterness had only grown with how much time her boyfriend was spending with the returned soldier. It didn't help that everyone in intelligence had grown to like her, leading to her often hanging out in the district. It wasn't unusual for y/n to turn up with lunch for the team, but Erin refused to like the girl. And y/n didn't seem that bothered by Erin's noticeable attitude towards her, instead opting to be the bigger person, opting to treat the woman her friend loved as a friend. The two didn't seem to be making any progress of becoming friends, but y/n accepted that, choosing to get along with Erin for the sake of Jay, and she hoped Erin felt the same way.

----------------------------------

Jay leaned against his desk as he talked to Erin, awaiting for the new case Voight was about to announce to them. There was word about kidnappings of women, where they were never found after they were taken. Six women were currently taken, and Voight was about to announce the plan of action. The team was blind as opposed to what it was, but they knew whatever it was they had to act fast, before things got out of hand.

The room went silent as Voight walked out of his office towards the middle of the room with pictures in his hands. Attaching them onto the board in front of him, he turned to face his team, and began to explain what was happening.

"Alright, here are the six women who have been taken in the past two weeks, each of them were seen in the local night club and that was their last sighting, meaning that the kidnapper is likely to be targeting that area. The victims were last seen getting into a taxi but they aren't traceable. Each plate comes up as legit taxi drivers, and when asked they say they weren't working the night the women were taken nd that they didn't even know there car was taken as it's in the same place as they had left it." Voight explained. "This guy is smart. He either managed to get the keys of these cars, take them and than return them when he's finished so as not to be caught quicker, or the cars are left unlocked and he wires it to turn on before leaving it as it was." Erin commented. "Well it worked, no one would know what happened apart from families becoming worried for their daughters." Kevin stated. "As you can see each girl here is in their 20's, has short h/c hair and e/c eyes meaning he has a type. So we need to catch him out before the next kidnapping." Voight stating, looking around as he finished explaining. "He seems to pick busy hours, when there are crowds around, hoping not to attract attention on him. College is out which means events are rolling in." Burgess stated. "When's the next event?" Jay asked. "Tonight there is karaoke night. He's bound to be there." Mouse spoke up, looking up from his computer. "Than we go there tonight. Hope to catch this son of a bastard." Voight spoke before The buzzer buzzed and the gate was heard opening.

Everyone's attention turned to the stairs as footsteps were heard, and each smiled slightly when they seen the woman walking up them. Y/n smiled softly as she held up a takeaway bag, having decided to bring Chinese for intelligence when Voight had asked her to come. She knew briefly of the case and knew that it would likely be a late one, so decided to bring some dinner for them when Voight had contacted her.

"Hey Y/n, what you doing here?" Adam asked, stretching over his desk so he could see her better. "Voight called, decided to bring dinner for everyone, sounds like a late night." Y/n replied, allowing Kevin to take the bags from her before moving to sit on Jay's chair, the owner of said chair craning around to smile at her in greeting.

Erin watched the two, unimpressed. She narrowed her eyes as Jay moved away from her side and behind his desk to hug y/n, y/n happily standing up to accept the hug. Wanting to drag her boyfriends attention away from the soldier, she started questioning Hank on their plans.

"So how are we going to catch him in the act? Neither me or Kim fit the description of the girls he's targeting." Erin asked, causing y/n to glance at Voight. "But y/n does." Voight pointed at said girl, causing everyone's attention to turn to her. "You can't be serious." Jay spoke out quickly, angered by the thought of his friend becoming a target. "Y/n fits what our guy is going for, she looks like a college student..." "Not sure how I feel about that comment." y/n spoke softly causing Kevin and Mouse to hid a grin. "She's a perfect match." Voight finished, gesturing to y/n. "I don't agree with this." Jay commented. "Jay stop, I've done more dangerous things than this." Y/n spoke firmly, "Besides I've already agreed." "You what?" Jay eyed her in frustration. "Jay, stop, she'll be fine. She's done more dangerous things than this." Erin stated, frowning at Jay for the way he was acting.

Jay only watched as y/n moved to Voight, allowing him to explain more in depth of what she was to do. He watched as she nodded along with his boss before they walked to Mouse where Hank told him to get y/n wired up.

"Jay, what you so worried about, she's fought worse." Adam spoke as he and Kim walked up to Jay and Erin. "She's on leave with an injury, and she's my friend, of course I'm worried." Jay explained as if it was the most obvious thing. "We'll be outside ready to interfere as needed. Once he goes for you let him take you, we'll be ready and waiting outside." Hank finished saying to y/n as Mouse helped wire her up. "How do we know if this is going to work?" Jay asked aloud. "We don't, but we have to try." Y/n stated, her brain going into autopilot.

---------------------------

Like previous missions and tasks, y/n was nervous, but she knew that the reason or doing this was to help save other girls and to prevent it from happening again. Her mind was on neutral, and she eyes a gentleman across the bar from her as she swirled her drink. He had been watching her all night, and y/n was sure that this man was the one Intelligence was looking for. Catching his eye, y/n smiled slyly before turning to talk to the barman in front of her.

“Could I get another please?” She asked, before downing the last of her drink. “I’ll get this.” The guy from across the bar suddenly appeared beside her. “That’s very kind of you.” Y/n smiled, batting her eyelashes a little. “It’s the least I can do for a pretty girl like yourself.” The guy spoke, causing y/n to look down as she blushed.

Outside in a van, Jay could only scowl as he heard the conversation between y/n and the guy. Erin sat beside him, and rolled her eyes at the look on her boyfriends face. He had done nothing but watch y/n before she went in, fussing over her and asking her repeatedly to change her mind. Halstead was worried about the girl, and that didn’t sit right with Erin.

“What do you say we head out of here, maybe someplace quiet.” The guy was heard over the ear piece, and the team sat up straight. “Y/n, go with him, but act surprised.” Voight coached the girl over the speaker, and Jay glared at his boss. “We just met, and you want me to leave with you.” Y/n feigned shock, turning her vision away from the guy in front of her. “Come on, you can trust me.” The guy laughed lightly, trying to encourage her. “I just don’t know if I should.” Y/n said unsure, trying to egg the guy on as he laughed before moving closer to her. “I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.” The guy threatened, leaning towards y/n so only she could hear. Y/n gasped, showing fear. “Come with me willingly and I won’t hurt you. Struggle, and it will end badly for you.” The guy spoke. “Ok.” Y/n gulped, voice shaking.

“We got him.” Voight stated, smirking at the guys confession. “Than let’s go.” Jay spoke, not liking the idea of someone’s hands being on his friends. “Jay, wait.” Erin spoke. “We take this easy or it could all go wrong.” She stated. “Kevin & Burgess, take the left, Erin & Adam go right, Halstead, your with me.” Voight commanded to his team as they got ready to move out.

Y/n got off her stool and allowed the guy in front to take her arm as they exited the night club. Shivering under the cold air hitting her skin, y/n looked to the left as cars were heard skidding in the distance. The guys grip hardened more as he seen Intelligence step out of their cars.

“Shit cops.” He cursed. “Chicago PD, let her go.” Voight shouted. “Keep moving, don’t stop.” The guy commanded, pushing the barrel of his gun into y/n’s back.

Y/n tripped over her feet as the guy forced her to move. Her back arched as she felt the barrel. Knowing this could turn nasty, she choose to follow the guys commands. This was part of the plan but that didn’t mean the guy could turn.

Jay took off after y/n, not listening as Hank shouted at him to get in. He choose to keep running, and turned the corner he say y/n go, his mind only on y/n. He heard the cars rushing behind him, but his mouth tightened as she seen y/n being forced into a car.

“Chicago PD, stop a*****e.” Jay shouted, causing y/n to look back at him. “Help, help.” Y/n shouted, playing the act till she was pushed into the car, her head hitting the door, knocking her unconscious.

The guy fired at Jay, causing him to duck down, taking out his own gun to fire back. Another shot was heard from the passengers side of the car, diverting Jays attention as the guy got into the car. Hearing the car engine, Jay cursed and started shooting at the car, before dropping down as a bullet nicked his arm. He turned to look over his shoulder as he heard cars stopping behind him

“Jay, are you okay.” Erin shouted out, running to her boyfriend as the car in front of them drove off. “I’m fine.” Jay brushed Erin away from him, standing up to watch as the car turned a corner. “This was part of the plan.” Burgess nodded her head, trying to convince herself and Jay that all would be okay. “Yeah, yeah, sure.” Jay sighed, allowing Erin to look at his wound. “Let’s head back to intelligence, see what mouse has heard.” Voight spoke up. “Come on, let’s get you to med.” Erin stated, holding Jays arm as he got off the ground.

Jay just nodded, his mind on y/n.