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kashverse · 2 days ago

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𝒴our first encounter with the 呪術廻戦 men

⪩⪨ ✶ implied f!reader but can be read otherwise (use of "pretty" in choso's version), strangers to lovers, fluff, featuring ♡ canon! gojo, canon! geto, single dad! toji, modern au! choso, canon! sukuna in a modern au, corporate! nanami ✿ ⪩⪨ tried a new formatting style..! ib my dear @norikuna (∩˃o˂∩)♡

gojo doesn’t see you coming. not because he’s oblivious—though, sure, that’s part of it—but because he’s too busy making himself miserable, listening to some poor bastard on the phone cry about their ex. it’s barely noon, the sun’s out, people are living their lives, and this guy’s talking about how he let “the one” slip through his fingers. “bro, just get another one,” gojo had said, dead-eyed, waiting for the crosswalk light to change. the response was more crying. he sighed, hanging up.

and then he smacked straight into you.

not a polite bump, not even a nudge—full-on body collision, your forehead meeting his chin with a sharp crack. the impact was enough to send you both stumbling, but while gojo’s built like a brick wall, you had all the misfortune of being knocked back a few steps. “ow—what the fuck?!” your voice came first, and then, through the dizzying pain, you saw him. tall, white-haired, stupidly good-looking in an insufferable way, dressed like he was on some model’s off-day. sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, and even through the slight daze, you could see the sharp glint of his blue eyes peering down at you.

“ah, my bad—”

“your bad?” your voice rose, disbelieving. the pain hadn’t even settled yet, but your temper had. “you nearly took my head off!”

gojo blinked. “well, technically, if i took your head off, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” he pointed out. “unless you’re a talking head, which would be—"

“are you serious?” you cut him off, hands flying up in exasperation. “you’re just standing in the middle of the damn sidewalk—”

“crosswalk,” he corrected.

“—like a fucking lamppost,” you barreled on, ignoring him. “and then you hit me. no, actually, you collided with me like a fucking train, and now you’re just standing there?”

you looked ready to kill him. gojo thought you looked radiant. people don’t really yell at him. they get nervous, flustered, awkward. maybe they complain a little, but they don’t yell. not like this—not with this kind of raw, unfiltered rage that was directed solely at him.

and he was loving it.

“ohhh, you’re mad mad,” he said, grinning.

“no shit?” you spat, rubbing your forehead. “you’re huge! why do you walk like you don’t know how to control your own size?”

“i’m huge? that’s a compliment,” he mused. “also, you ran into me.”

“i did not—"

“you did, but it’s okay,” he waved off. “i forgive you.”

your mouth dropped open. your jaw clenched so hard you swore you heard it click. “i don’t need your forgiveness,” you snapped. “i need you to watch where the hell you’re going!” gojo just smiled. “i can do that,” he said. “but only if you tell me your name first.”

you squinted at him. “why?”

“so i know what to say in my apology,” he said smoothly. “y’know, something heartfelt, real personal. ‘i’m so sorry, dear stranger, for running into you with my big, strong, muscular body—’”

your scowl deepened. “forget it,” you turned to leave, shaking your head.

gojo grabbed your wrist. lightly, like he was afraid you’d shake him off (which you probably would). “wait,” he said, less teasing this time, more curious.

you stopped, staring at him warily. “what?”

he grinned. “you’re fun.”

you yanked your arm out of his grip. “you’re annoying.”

but you weren’t yelling anymore. and maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.

toji doesn't believe in love—at least, not in the way people like to romanticize it. to him, love has always been transactional. people want things: security, pleasure, a warm body to cling to at night. he provides, they take. simple.

commitment? fuck no. he’s been there, done that, and all it got him was a headache and a kid who looks at him like he’s a walking disappointment. not that he blames megumi—he knows exactly the kind of man he is. relationships, from what he's seen, are just another job. another obligation. more shit to deal with when he's already stretched thin making sure megumi doesn't starve or turn into a little menace. and he's already got enough on his plate.

raising megumi is work. the kid is sharp, stubborn, and way too perceptive for his own good. keeping up with him is exhausting. fulfilling someone else’s expectations on top of that? hell no.

people ask if he’s lonely. he laughs. lonely? he’s got freedom. no nagging, no obligations, no answering to anyone but himself and, on the worst days, a grumpy eight-year-old who somehow thinks he’s smarter than him. love, in his experience, is just a distraction. and toji fushiguro doesn’t do distractions.

and toji swears he only looked away for a second.

he was just checking the damn price tag on some overpriced brand of instant noodles, and when he looked back, megumi was gone. poof. like a magic trick, except it wasn’t a trick, and the rising panic in his chest was very, very real. “shit,” he muttered, scanning the aisles. nothing. just a bunch of old ladies and college kids looking for cheap meals. no messy black hair, no tiny scowl. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep calm. he didn’t want to make a scene. people lost their kids all the time, right? it wasn’t a big deal. he just had to—

and then he saw him.

megumi was at the end of the next aisle, small hands clenched at his sides, his mouth pressed in a thin, stubborn line, like he wasn’t scared, even though he definitely was. and right next to him, crouched down to his level, was you. “you’re really good at this,” you said. megumi blinked up at you. “huh?”

“the whole ‘not panicking’ thing,” you smiled at him. “most kids freak out when they lose their parents. you’re staying calm. that’s cool.” megumi looked away, like he wasn’t sure if that was actually a compliment or not. “i don’t wanna cause trouble,” he muttered.

“aw, but that’s what parents are for,” you teased. “causing them trouble.” megumi almost smiled. almost. toji, still frozen in place, narrowed his eyes. who the hell were you?

“c’mon, let’s go find your dad,” you said, standing up and holding out a hand. megumi didn’t take it, but he followed you anyway, his short legs working hard to keep up with your pace. and toji? well. he wasn’t sure why, but instead of stepping forward, he let you find him.

he let you do the whole thing, watching as you walked with megumi, asking him questions—where he last saw his dad, what his name was, what he looked like.

“he’s really tall,” megumi said. you hummed. “tall, huh? that helps.”

“and he’s got a scar on his mouth,” he added.

“even better. anyone who looks scary is easier to spot.”

megumi frowned a little. “he’s not scary.” you smiled, ruffling his hair. “i bet he isn’t.”

toji snorted under his breath.

by the time you turned the corner and finally spotted him, megumi exhaled in relief. toji pretended not to notice how fast he ran up to him, grabbing the fabric of his shirt like he wasn’t just saying how calm he was. you, on the other hand, stopped a few steps away, hands on your hips. “you must be the scary, not-scary dad,” you said.

toji raised an eyebrow. “and you’re just a random saint, huh?” you shrugged. “not a saint. just someone who doesn’t like seeing kids upset.”

he looked at you, really looked at you. you didn’t seem put out by any of this, like helping some stranger’s kid wasn’t an inconvenience, but just another part of your day. like it was normal. toji let out a breath, then tilted his head down at megumi. “you good, kid?”

megumi nodded, though he still wasn’t letting go of toji’s shirt. toji sighed, glancing back at you. “guess i owe you, huh?”

you waved him off. “don’t worry about it. just keep an eye on him next time.”

toji huffed a laugh. “easier said than done.”

you grinned, giving megumi one last look before turning to leave. and toji? well. maybe being responsible for two people wouldn’t be so bad after all.

nanami never thought much about being single. it wasn’t a matter of pride or principle—just reality. his job was time-consuming, his patience was thin, and the thought of entertaining someone else’s needs after a long workday felt exhausting. he wasn’t lonely, just… fine. indifferent.

until he got sick of his office food.

“this is inedible,” he said flatly, staring at the sad excuse of a meal on his plate. his colleague, barely looking up from his own tray, mumbled, “it’s fine.”

nanami’s eye twitched. it was not fine. rubbery chicken, dry rice, and a soup that tasted more like dishwater than anything edible. this was not a meal—it was a punishment.

so, he made a change.

he found a small business that delivered homemade meals, something personal but convenient. it promised variety, quality ingredients, and, most importantly, flavor.

what he didn’t expect were the notes.

the first one came tucked under the neatly packed meal.

“hope today isn’t too exhausting! eat well!”

nanami stared at it for longer than he should have. then, at the food—real food. properly cooked, properly seasoned, steaming with warmth that no canteen meal could ever replicate. he didn’t think about it much. a kind gesture, that was all. but the notes kept coming.

“long meetings? i packed extra today.”

“rainy day! hope this brings some warmth.”

“rough week? your food will always be good at least.”

and then—

“your order is always so precise. you must be someone who likes routine.”

nanami paused mid-bite. he did like routine. he thrived on it. and yet, this—this unexpected kindness, these little messages—was beginning to throw him off in a way he couldn’t explain. weeks passed, meals came, and nanami found himself looking forward to them—not just for the food, but for the words that came with it. one afternoon, after another insufferable meeting, he opened his meal to find:

“do you ever take breaks? hope you’re not working too hard.”

he let out a breath, something between a sigh and a laugh. he was working too hard. but how did you—someone he’d never met—seem to know that better than the people around him? finally, curiosity got the better of him. he grabbed a pen and, for the first time, wrote back.

“who are you?”

the next day, his meal came with a note, just like always.

“just someone who wants you to eat well. but i wouldn’t mind knowing who you are too.”

and for the first time in a long time, nanami thought—maybe being single wasn’t so fine after all.

geto doesn’t believe in love. not in the way people romanticize it, anyway. he’s known desire—used it, wielded it like a tool, a means to an end. a well-timed smile, a hand grazing a wrist, a whispered promise—all of it was just another step in expanding his cause. people were easy to sway when you made them feel special. and being single? it wasn’t something he mourned. it was efficient. no attachments, no complications, no wasted energy. everything he did, every conversation, every encounter—it all served a purpose.

until you.

“you’ve been talking for a while,” you said, tilting your head at him. geto smiled. “am i boring you?”

“not at all. just wondering if you’re going to get to the point.”

he chuckled, swirling his drink. clever. impatient. interesting.

“what do you think my point is?”

you leaned back, thoughtful. “well, you’re charming, you have that practiced ease of someone who’s very used to getting what they want, and yet…” you narrowed your eyes. “you haven’t tried to get anything from me yet.”

his smile twitched. perceptive too. “maybe i’m just enjoying the conversation.”

“hmm.” you didn’t look convinced. “i doubt you talk to people without a reason.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you wound me. am i not allowed to simply appreciate good company?”

you smirked. “do you?”

and that was the problem, wasn’t it? he did.

he was supposed to be recruiting you. that was why he approached you in the first place—he had assessed, observed, picked you out for your potential. another piece in his grander vision. but now? now, he was talking to you about books, about philosophy, about things that had nothing to do with his cause.

he liked your sharp tongue, your quick comebacks, the way you saw through people but humored them anyway. and he was enjoying this. more than he should.

“you’re thinking too hard,” you noted.

“am i?”

“yeah. for someone who flirts so easily, you seem oddly distracted.”

he chuckled, shaking his head. you had no idea. for the first time in a long time, geto suguru had forgotten his purpose. and strangely enough, he didn’t mind.

choso doesn’t really get love. it’s not that he doesn’t feel it—he does, deeply, messily, all-consuming in the way only someone who has lived too long without it can. it’s just that he doesn’t understand how it’s supposed to work. his friends talk about relationships like they’re puzzles, like you’re supposed to fit into someone else’s life piece by piece, no gaps, no edges sticking out. but choso? he keeps forcing the wrong pieces together. he’s had his heart broken by so many situationships, and he doesn’t even know what that word means. all he knows is that people like him enough to stay for a while, but not enough to stay forever. and when someone ghosts him? it’s over.

“why would they do that?” he asks yuuji, completely distraught. “i thought we were getting along.” yuuji winces. “yeah, but… sometimes people just disappear, man. it’s not your fault.”

“but why not just say they don’t like me?”

“because people suck.”

choso frowns. love is confusing. people are confusing. nothing makes sense.

until he meets you.

more specifically, until you send a pug flying in his direction. one second, he’s minding his own business, sipping a coffee, staring blankly at nothing. the next—

“watch out!”

and then—THUD.

a very round, very squishy pug collides with his chest, knocking the air out of him. he blinks. looks down. the pug is fine. choso, however, is shaken.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry,” you pant, running up to him, looking horrified. “he’s got the speed of a missile and the weight distribution of a sack of potatoes. are you okay?”

choso is still holding the pug. he has not processed a single thing except that you’re talking to him, and you’re really pretty. you snap your fingers in front of his face.

“hello? earth to guy who just got body slammed by my dog?”

he swallows. “i—i’m okay.”

you sigh in relief. “good. i don’t think my insurance covers ‘pug-related assaults.’”

he stares. then—

he laughs.

it’s an awkward, slightly delayed laugh, but it’s real. it bubbles out of him, because suddenly, everything is just… simple. you’re still talking, apologizing, trying to pry your dog from his grip, and he realizes—love doesn’t have to be this big, complicated thing. it can be a stranger, a runaway pug, and a stupidly perfect moment where he thinks, 'oh. this is it.'

sukuna has never cared for love. love is mortal, fleeting, an indulgence for the weak. he has lived for centuries without it, conquered, destroyed, thrived—all on his own. why bother with attachment? why waste time on something that promises nothing but vulnerability? he’s always been perfectly fine like this.

until the night he meets you at the bar.

he doesn’t even mean to notice you at first—just another human in a crowded room, laughing, talking, lighting up the space with an ease he’s never possessed.

and then he hears you speak. your voice is smooth, effortless, like you’re meant to be heard. every sentence flows into the next, words never fumbling, never uncertain. you make people laugh, pull them in, keep them hanging on to every syllable. sukuna watches, listens, enthralled, before someone leans in and calls you by name—your full name. followed by—

“aren’t you that talk show host?”

and it clicks. you are. he’s seen your face before, flickering on a television screen, a passing glimpse at a life so far removed from his own.

and now he’s irritated. because you talk so easily with everyone but him. and that won’t do.

so he tries. for the first time in centuries, he tries to talk to someone—like a normal person, like it’s something he’s done before, like it’s as easy as you make it look.

but it’s not. it’s a disaster.

he waits until the crowd around you has thinned, takes the seat next to you, and—

“so.” he clears his throat. “you talk to people for a living.”

you turn, blinking, mildly amused. “i do.”

he nods, confident. good start. then nothing. his mind goes blank. shit.

you raise a brow, waiting. sukuna glares at his drink like it’s betrayed him. “how do you do it?”

you tilt your head. “do what?” he gestures vaguely. “talk. keep people engaged.”

you blink. “are you asking me how to hold a conversation?”

his jaw tenses. “no.”

you laugh. he scowls.

he tries again. “what makes a good interview?”

“oh, that’s easy,” you hum. “you have to be genuinely interested in the other person.”

he deadpans.

you smirk. “which means you have to actually listen to what they’re saying.”

“i listen,” he grumbles.

“really?” you lean in. “then what were we just talking about?”

silence. your smirk widens. “you weren’t listening.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face. this is hell.

but he keeps trying. keeps failing, keeps making an idiot of himself, keeps suffering through every one of your knowing smiles—because for the first time in his miserable, ancient existence, he actually wants to learn.

he wants to talk to you.

and maybe, just maybe, he wants you to talk to him, too.

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mimiii-3 · 17 hours ago

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How old is the Batsib meant to be? Because I think that the most angst potential idea is that they are YOUNG. Like, around Damian’s age.

Most people, especially the Batfam, are really loving and caring towards children, but Batsib is ignored, belittled and disregarded. Meanwhile, Darling is an adult, someone who should literally be able to handle themselves but is instead coddled.

Most neglected reader fics have the family seeing the reader as younger than they are, but maybe in this au they think that the batsib is like 16-17 when they’re literally like 13.

Good idea!

…

Saboteur: Teenage Dirtbag

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: a tad bit angsty

…

What if batsib is younger than darling?

🦇- you can’t stand darling

🦇 - the way they parade around the house, basking in your family’s undying love

🦇 - you hate them all

🦇 - your Father’s weak resolve. He doesn’t stop darling’s relentless teasing. No, he sits back and watches to stay in their good graces

🦇 - then there’s Dick

🦇 - he reaches back to his circus roots and puts on a show for them. Always flipping off the walls and cracking jokes

🦇 - the overly wide smile he flashes darling looks stupid

🦇 - Tim just can’t get enough of darling

🦇 - he spends hours gathering more information about them. Memorizing their likes and dislikes so he can learn how to keep them happy

🦇 - the spitfire of the family, Damian, follows darling around the house and gazing at them with admiration

🦇 - even Alfred can’t help but wait on them hand and foot

🦇 - but what do you get?

🦇 - you get nothing. Pure indifference is what you get from your so-called family

🦇 - it’s never felt more apparent till now

…

The buses have stopped running. Of course, why wouldn’t they on the worst day ever. You trudge up the muddy slope that leads to the small wood behind the manor.

It was your first day of high school and it did not go as planned. The teachers and students were a bunch of judgy socialites who couldn’t mind their own business. You asked to go to a public school but your father didn’t listen. Typical.

Your shoe slips against the mud and you fall to your knees. A frustrated whine leaves your mouth as you clamber to your feet.

You had asked Alfred to pick you up around 6. You had an orientation for the after school program that would last at least a couple of hours. Unfortunately, you aren’t old enough to drive yourself so you planned to wait for Alfred.

The tip of a branch catches on the mesh side of your backpack. It tears the fabric easily and your water bottle tumbles down a short part of the slope. After retrieving your water bottle, you tiredly continue the journey.

Alfred never showed. Even after you waited an hour and a half. In hindsight, you should have just left the school. At least you wouldn’t be walking back in the dark. You knew that it was dangerous to take the open sidewalk back home so you decided to take the woodsy way instead.

You mentally punch yourself for taking the back way and take hold of sturdy-looking tree branch. With some effort, you pull yourself up the last part of the slope. Your shoulders sag in relief at the small distance between you and the manor.

Maybe Alfred was preoccupied? Yeah, that’s it. He was busy helping Bruce with a new bad guy in Gotham. Or maybe he had too much to drink and forgot about the plan.

You approach the back door leading to the dance hall. Before you can reach for the door, you notice light pouring out of the living room window.

You stay a couple hundred feet back so that whoever’s inside can’t see you. When you look into the room from afar you see them. The whole family, huddled up in the living room and watching a movie.

It must be scary. With the way that obnoxious abductee clings to them in fear. Dick, Tim, and Damian all lean toward Darling on the couch. Your father, sitting in the armchair, is looking over at them with so much love.

Disgusting. The way they look at darling like they can do no wrong. Then Alfred walks in the room carrying a tray of popcorn. You seethe at the sight of him, warm and dry.

So he forgot to pick you up for this. Is it that he forgot or did he just not care? You trudge back to the door and swing it open. You stomp your muddy shoes up the recently waxed stairs.

When you arrive at your room you slam the door shut and shake off your muddy clothes. After a quick shower, you plop down on the bed and pull out your diary. You begin to describe the horrible day you had and every hateful thought about your family imaginable.

Your pen scratches furiously at the paper. The hot tears cascading down your face wrinkle the expensive, leather-bound journal. You write and write till your hand aches just as much as your heart. You pull back to peer at your handiwork.

For about 8 pages your diary is covered in angry rants and violent doodles of you family. The anger starts to dissipate. Your diary keeps you in check. It allows you to express yourself and rant against your family.

You tuck the notebook under your mattress and climb under the covers. You pull your pig plushie close and breath out a sigh. You have to relax and forget about today. Let go of your family and everything else bothering you. It’s only Monday after all.

…

Extra notes: hey y’all, I’m back🫣

Tag list:

@jjsmeowthie @shawty-a-lil-baddie @butratherbutrather @shirp-collector-of-fixations @stove-top96 @yaoizee @bellethesleepypotato @salfishers @eli-mayhaveatencats @wisefuncherryblossom @c4xcocoa

#batfam x reader #dc x reader #dcu #batsiblings #platonic batfam #yandere platonic batfamily x reader #batsib!reader #gn reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #neglected reader

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caughtthedarkness93 · 3 days ago

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Hello, I have OCD and sexuality and gender have often been major fixations of it. It was undiagnosed through its worst phases, and when I was in college, I had such powerful intrusive thoughts that I was gay that I considered temporarily dropping out in my final semester more than once.

Do you know how that affected my relationship with gay people around me?

It barely did at all! I was maybe a little more awkward around them! Because I knew that being an asshole to them was wrong and that I shouldn't do it! That posting on Xitter about what they do in the privacy of their own homes is weird and and shitty! That obsessing over other people's sex lives is creepy! That shaming them for it is bad!

Hell, often it hit me in an area of shame because I knew that there was nothing wrong with being gay, but was spending so much time trying to convince myself I wasn't that I started to feel like maybe on some level I did have a problem with it.

Please don't throw OCD people under the bus to excuse this weirdo, we can have intrusive thoughts about sexuality and not be assholes about it.

Conservatives having a normal one

#ocd #actually ocd #mental health #mental illness #actually mentally ill #get put underwater idiot

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victoryai · 2 days ago

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SOLAR RETURN ASC AND YOUR PHYSICAL APPEARANCE FOR THE YEAR.

You can reblog ↪️ but please have the decency not 🚫 to steal my post.

©Victoryai.

My Babies have been requesting more solar return observations 😁❤️

Note: A person's physical appearance is predominantly influenced by their natal ascendant. However,(due to my observations) the solar return ascendant may exert a subtle(for most cases) yet temporary impact on one's physical appearance for a year. It's possible for others to notice this change more than you

🚕 Let's go....

🚕♈ Aries ascendant: When you have Aries as your Sr ascendant, you tend to look bolder and more confident in your own way. There's something about your face, maybe it looks more prominent. To some people, you just come of as intimidating. During this year you might easily get scars/tats on your face. You might sustain injuries due to the martian influence.

🚕♉ Taurus ascendant: When Taurus shows up as Sr asc, most people tend to add weight. So for a fact, you might look chubby or even look rich/richer. Simply put you look comfortable.

🚕 ♊ Gemini ascendant: This Sr ASC makes people look younger than their age. You might look nerdy and nervous too or mostly in uniform.

🚕♋ Cancer ascendant: Should I call you Mom or Dad😂 cause this one makes you look soft like you have a kid. You look more approachable though. You might be regularly moody and cry alot. It's funny how I cried for one reason or the other when I had this as a lunar return ascendant 😂, like always....

🚕♌ Leo ascendant:The giddy kid or the star or also the new parent!

You seem like you were created to have fun. There's something about you that just shines this year. You're a whole package of entertainment for your fans bby. You look high class 😋!

🚕♍ Virgo ascendant: I'll try to stay positive about this one,😂. There's a high chance you'll look really clean and organized. You look reasonable and efficient, trustworthy too. You might also look petite and lose weight too. It'll be great if you plan too lose weight. You look like you're on a diet bby!

🚕♎ Libra ascendant: omg 😳 you are pretty 😍, you literally look like everyone's spec. You look feminine and gentle. This is giving wifey/husband material 😻. You might also look like you're married 😂.

🚕♏ Scorpio ascendant: Honestly, you're gradually starting to change and transform . You look complex . You could also change completely due to facial surgery or makeup. I guess I'll have to observe this sign more🤔.

🚕♐ Sagittarius ascendant: You look like you have quite a lot in your head! There's that look of intelligence or someone that's currently learning alot. You look like a foreigner to people around you. You might also look like a religious person, maybe you wear religious symbols often. You tend to add weight . Plus you look funny too 🤣.

🚕♑ Capricorn ascendant: Who's the Boss? You!!. You don't look like you want to engage in cheap talk this year. You have this all serious look about you. You move slow and steady like a boss!!. You might even look like a celeb to people 🤣

🚕♒ Aquarius:Nerdy!Nerdy!. You might just look like that one nerd that uses their phone so much like their life depends on it. You look like "I don't give a f***". Your style this year is just very unique and different. You also look "friendly" too😂

🚕♓ Pisces: Oh my babys🌬️ you look like you don't belong to this world. I'm getting ethereal vibes from you. You might also look confused and lost too. Like someone searching for something that cannot be found on earth. You look sleepy maybe because you might sleep alot too. You might look depressed if you get yourself in bad habits like drugs, addiction or alcohol, so don't!!

You might look crazy too🤕 sorry 😔

#astro observations #astrology observations #astrology #lunar return #solar return #ascendant in solar return chart #solar return observations #astrology community #astro community #©Victoryai #victoryai

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wendichester · 1 day ago

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Hiii could I request a pt 2 to miniskirt?? Honestly anything with teen!dean tbh maybe it ends up being that r knows exactly why dean gave her the jacket, or some sort of awkard/sweet confession and fluffiness? Or an angsty route where dean lashes out and r can't understand why which leads to a fluffy confession? Literally anything, your writing is so so good each and every time 🙂‍↕️

✮⋆˙ miniskirt²,

summary. you’re rocking a miniskirt and dean goes crazy!

pairing. teen!dean winchester x best friend!reader

wordcount. 518

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ read part 1

Dean doesn’t know what the hell is wrong with him.

All day, he’s been a mess—on edge, jittery, snapping at people for no reason. It’s stupid. It’s irrational. And it’s all because of you.

Because you showed up this morning in that damn skirt.

And now you’re sitting next to him in the Impala, legs tucked up on the seat, wearing his jacket like it belongs to you. Like he belongs to you.

And maybe that’s what’s messing him up so bad.

He grips the steering wheel tighter, eyes fixed on the road. His knuckles are white. The engine hums beneath them, the radio low, but the silence between you is loud.

You tap your fingers against the window absentmindedly. “Are you gonna keep brooding all night, or are you gonna tell me what’s up?”

Dean exhales sharply through his nose. “Nothing’s up.”

“Uh-huh.” You shift, turning to face him fully. “Because you’ve been acting weird since lunch, and considering we spend, like, ninety percent of our lives together, I think I’d know when something’s up.”

Dean clenches his jaw. He doesn’t want to do this. Not now, not ever. But you’re looking at him, waiting, and there’s something knowing in your eyes.

Like you already have him figured out.

You lean in slightly, voice softer. “Is this about the jacket?”

He stiffens.

“Oh my God.” Your lips part in realization. “It is about the jacket.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It totally is!” You sit up straighter, grinning now. “Dean, did you—”

“Don’t.”

“Did you give me your jacket because you were jealous?”

Dean groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ.”

You burst out laughing, delighted. “Dean, that’s adorable.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, glaring at the road like it personally offended him.

“I mean, I thought it was kinda obvious, but I wasn’t sure—”

“What was obvious?”

“That you like me.”

Dean nearly swerves into oncoming traffic.

He yanks the wheel back, heart slamming against his ribs. “What?”

You’re still grinning, completely unfazed. “You like me.”

He swallows. His ears are hot. His pulse is a damn drumline.

He could deny it. Brush it off, make some joke, keep things the way they’ve always been.

But when he looks over at you—wearing his jacket, all warm and soft and entirely too pretty in the glow of the streetlights—he realizes he’s so, so tired of pretending.

“…Yeah,” he mutters, grip tightening on the wheel. “I do.”

Your smile softens. “Good.”

Dean frowns. “Good?”

You shrug, leaning closer, your warmth seeping into his side. “Because I like you, too, dumbass.”

Dean’s stomach does a weird little flip. His chest feels too tight.

He doesn’t know what to say, what to do.

And then you’re leaning in, hand curling around his bicep, looking at him like he hung the damn moon.

“Pull over.”

Dean swallows thickly. “Why?”

Your fingers slide down his arm, tracing his wrist, teasing at his palm.

“Because I wanna kiss you,” you say simply. “And I don’t think you should be driving when I do.”

Dean’s foot is on the brake before you finish the sentence.

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #supernatural #.docx #.req

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heavensoutofsight · 2 days ago

Text

indulgence | b.e.

synopsis: you meet up with a woman at a dingy night club in attempts to forget about your horrible break-up with your ex; she's incredibly charming and easily the most attractive woman you've ever met. you're lonely and touch-starved, and this mysterious yet alluring woman makes you an offer you just can't deny. but -- you eventually come to the realization that there is more than what meets the eye with her.

tags/warnings: voyeurism, discussion of casual hook-ups/fwb relations, blood drinking, sexual content (oral sex, fingering, dom!billie), lots of swearing, angst if you squint really hard, fluffiness at the end

word count: 8.7k

author's note: okay there are a few things i want to clarify first. number one: billie's fangs are retractable. two: she can be out in the sun. just for the sake of the narrative 😭😭 sorry to any hardcore vampire lore fans. that's about it, just wanted to get that out of the way. DINNER IS SERVED ENJOYYY.

also here is a link to what i imagine billie wears during a certain scene... you'll know when you get there ;)

taglist: @brat-at-the-disco, @hannahluvsbillie, @karaeilishh, @rhearipley-69, @bilssturns, @bla1rxoxo, @billiesrighthand, @weluvwbb, @belleishot, @floweiralie, @natbelovasblog (forgot to add again omg)

You weren't much of a party person; you could really only enjoy small social gatherings with close friends at most, as anything bigger than that almost always had you mentally exhausted by the end of it; and yet, despite your distaste for big parties, you currently found yourself in a bustling club, filled to the brim with sweaty, gyrating strangers and music so loud you were certain you'd lose a little bit of your hearing later.

You were seated at the bar, watching the people on the dance floor move their bodies carelessly, drunken smiles plastered on everybody's faces. The multi-colored strobe lights vibrantly flashed, some of them flickering to the beat of the music.

The only reason you were here was because your friends insisted that you tag along; and while you would typically be against going to these kinds of places, you decided to entertain them just for one night—besides, they were just trying to be helpful. You were still trying to get over an ex-girlfriend of yours, and while the heartbreak was less painful now, given that it had been a few weeks, you were still clearly in the mourning process. You friends went on and on about how the club would be the perfect place to forget everything, and for a second, you foolishly thought that maybe they would be right, and you entertained their idea.

But, in reality, your ex was still on your mind, and going clubbing didn't seem to be much of a remedy at all. Neither the loud music, the crowded room, or even the alcohol could fully distract you from the heartache that you were still experiencing from the messiness that was your last relationship. If anything, sitting at the bar completely alone only made you feel a bit worse. You saw so many couples out on the dance floor, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy.

Eventually, your eyes found your friends; they were also on the dance floor, uncoordinated limbs flying all over the place as they moved to the beat. Just a few minutes ago they tried to get you to come with them, but you declined the offer, to which they all just smiled apologetically at you before leaving you at the bar. You were thankful that they respected your decision, although you did feel a bit bad for essentially rejecting them. But with the mood you were in right now, dancing just didn't sound very appealing.

At some point, the club was beginning to feel a bit stuffy; you could feel a thin coat of sweat forming on your skin and you weren't even moving. The peaceful quietness and cool weather of the outside sounded more than lovely at the moment, so after you quickly downed your beverage and tipped the bartender, you grabbed your things and headed for the exit, not even sparing your friends a glance.

Once you stepped out, you decided to sneak around to the back of the building, away from any watchful eyes. You leaned against the building's hard exterior, closing your eyes, taking in deep breaths. The clean air was refreshing compared to the nauseating stench of weed with a tinge of vomit from inside the club.

You were so focused on just escaping and getting some alone time that you failed to realize there were already a couple of people out here. You did realize they were there when you heard the unmistakable sound of a moan. It definitely wasn't a moan of pain, either.

Your eyes shot open, and you turned your head to where you heard the sound. Your eyes ever so slightly widened as you took in the sight before you.

It was two women; one of them, a blonde dressed in a black mini skirt with a matching sheer black top, both of which left absolutely nothing to the imagination, was being pinned to the wall by another, more masculine appearing, dark-haired woman who was clad in baggy, dark jeans, an equally baggy matching denim jacket, and a white tee, one that she was drowning in. The dark-haired woman had her mouth on her neck (probably giving her a hickey, you assumed) and her hand was clearly under her skirt. The blonde was enjoying every second, her perfectly manicured hands gripping the other woman's denim jacket and her eyes screwed shut in unadulterated passion.

You felt like a total creep, watching this unfold, but once again, you felt that familiar feeling of jealousy blossom within you as you watched this random woman ascend to cloud nine. You hadn't been touched like that in what felt like an eternity. Your last relationship went through a bit of a dry spell, especially toward the end of it. Sure, masturbation helped; but more than anything you craved the touch of another woman.

Your eyes stayed glued onto them. Even though there was a voice in the back of your head screaming at you to look away, you shamefully ignored it.

You watched as the dark-haired woman moved her hand faster, eventually pulling away from her neck, leaning in close to the woman she was pleasuring. She had begun whispering something to the blonde, something that made the blonde nod fervently. With the distance in between the two of you, you couldn't make out what was being said; but it was clear it had an effect on the woman.

At this point, the blonde woman wasn't exactly very quiet, her moans growing in volume, transitioning from light and breathy to loud and brash. The dark-haired woman simply put a hand over her mouth, continuing her ministrations down below, her hand moving at a crazy, relentless pace. You couldn't help but feel a wave of heat wash over you, pooling within your belly and traveling to your own nether regions. It was a bit embarrassing and it would definitely haunt you later, but you couldn't fight the natural reaction your body was having at that moment.

Eventually, the blonde woman very clearly reached her peak, her legs shaking like leaves and her cries of pleasure reaching a new pitch. Her eyes were open now and she was looking directly at the woman in front of her. She was still wailing profusely, even as she was coming down from her high, and the dark-haired girl didn't let up until the blonde tapped her shoulder a few times.

The dark-haired woman then removed her fingers from under the blonde's skirt. She slowly brought her two fingers to her mouth, sucking them clean right in front of her, never once breaking eye contact. You couldn't stop the way your jaw dropped slightly at the sight, feeling a faint but unmistakable throbbing sensation within your core now.

The blonde just laughed, leaning her head against the wall, wearing a fucked-out expression. “Holy shit, Billie,” you heard her say. “You're so fucking hot.”

The dark-haired woman, you presumed was named Billie, just smirked. “Mmm, right back at you, mama.”

The blonde just giggled some more, now leaning her head on Billie's shoulder. At the movement, you just barely heard her do a sharp, pained inhale, her hand clasping the side of her neck that Billie was showing a lot of love to earlier.

“This hurts,” the blonde woman whined. “It'll go away, right?”

Billie absentmindedly began fiddling with the woman's sheer top as she answered. “Yes, just give it a couple days, okay? Since the weather's getting cooler you can just cover it up with a scarf or something, no problem.”

“Good idea. If my boyfriend found out, I'd be fucking dead.”

“You still haven't dumped his ass yet?”

The blonde sighed. “I'm just… still figuring out how to break the news to him.”

“You told me that last time, Ashley.”

“I know, I know. Just give me, like, a week. Okay?” The blonde—named Ashley—said, twirling a strand of dark hair around her finger, biting her lip. Billie just leaned in, giving her one last messy kiss.

Billie pulled away first, giving her waist a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, sure, a week,” she stepped away, shoving her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket.

“I'll see you later, babygirl.” Billie said. Ashley just beamed at her, re-adjusting her skirt and heading back into the club, but not before finally meeting eyes with you on her way back in. Her smile dropped, and she looked at you with disgust.

“Perv.” Was all she said to you before leaving. You couldn't even feel completely offended, because you kinda were being a perv. The shame was really starting to kick in now. You dropped your eyes to the ground, hoping that the other woman wouldn't confront you either.

Unfortunately for you, she did exactly that. And the words that came out of her mouth were completely unexpected.

“Did you enjoy the show?” She asked. You foolishly looked around to see if there was possibly anybody else she could be talking to; of course, it was most definitely just you. You tensed, reluctantly meeting the woman's eyes. She was already staring at you, dark eyes still slightly hooded, a lazy grin resting on her face.

You nearly blurted out something about how fucking hot she was. Maybe you would have if not for the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment you were feeling right now.

“I'm- I'm really sorry, I– I don't know why I– I'm sorry. God, I'm a fucking creep– look, I can just leave, okay?” You uttered, your cheeks burning under Billie's heavy gaze. She only chuckled at your floundering (and it was by far the sexiest sound you've ever heard).

“Don't be sorry. Answer me.” she spoke, voice gentle but undeniably firm. She stepped a bit closer to you, repeating her words: “Did you enjoy the show?”

There was no denying how dominating her presence was. You didn't know this woman at all and yet you felt so compelled to do whatever she asked of you. It only made you even more embarrassed– you were so desperate for intimacy and attention that you were just about close to begging at the feet of the first attractive woman you ran into. You were a total mess.

“Um,” you started, your voice meek. “Yeah. I… I did.” You said, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up.

She chuckled once more. “Don't feel bad about it, it's okay. I'm kinda into that shit, to be honest.”

Her response just made your cheeks burn hotter. You weren't sure if she was joking or not, but either way, her words were certainly making an impact on you.

“Oh,” was the only word that left your mouth, your brain effectively shutting down in this woman's presence.

“Hm,” Billie began, looking at you inquisitively. “You're cute.”

“I– um– thank you.” You stammered out, internally cringing at your own awkwardness. Your panic in front of her was also going to haunt you later – probably for the rest of your life.

Billie just seemed highly amused at your predicament. “I love making pretty girls flustered,” She said. You didn't miss the way her eyes gave you a quick look up and down; she wasn't particularly subtle about it. “Could I fluster you some more over lunch? Or coffee, if that's more your thing.”

You were taken aback by her rather direct offer. Crossing your arms, you scoffed.

“Would your girlfriend be okay with that?”

Billie laughed. “Oh, Ashley? She's not my girlfriend. She just… comes to me when she needs to relieve some stress. It's nothing serious.”

“I see.” You said, nodding. “Stress relief, huh?”

“Yup. She's got an insensitive asshole for a boyfriend who has absolutely no idea how to even pleasure a woman."

"That's… tragic." You commented.

"Very," Billie replied. "So, when she needs to take her mind off of him for a bit… I'm there for her. Like a distraction of sorts."

She licked her lips, and you found yourself entranced by the simple action. She gazed at you curiously, a dangerous smirk resting on her face. She said her next words quietly as if anyone else was around to hear them. "We could all use a distraction sometimes, right?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You look like you could use one." Billie said suddenly, a teasing edge to her voice; there was no missing the underlying implication in that sentence, and you couldn't help the smirk that grew on your face.

"You think I need a distraction?"

"Yeah. I can kinda sense these things."

A light chuckle escaped you at that. "Really now? Well… I guess you wouldn't be wrong." You replied, briefly thinking back to the reason you were here in the first place. Obviously, clubbing was not helping you in forgetting about your ex like you hoped it would. Maybe what you truly needed was a fun little hook-up with no strings attached.

Billie could tell that you were deeply pondering your response, and she spoke up again. "You know, I can give you a really good time..." She insisted, her voice lowering in a way that made you feel cartwheels in your stomach.

You still hesitated a bit; although Billie was the hottest woman you've ever laid eyes on, you didn't really have experience with causal relationships. You had heard some horror stories from your friends about their own causal hook-ups about how messy and damaging they could be. But at the same time, walking away from a woman whose looks could rival Aphrodite felt like a crime.

"Well… I-"

"How about this," Billie interrupted. "Give me your hand."

You just stared at her, confused, eyebrows furrowed.

"O… kay?" You said, eventually doing as she asked. When you stuck out your hand, Billie was quick to dive her own into the large pocket of her denim jacket, pulling out a pen. She took your palm into a surprinsingly cold hand and began hastily writing something on it--you very quickly realized that they were numbers.

"That's my number," Billie said, putting the lid to her pen back on and returning it to its place in her pocket. "When you've made up your mind, just call me, and we can go out and get to know each other a bit, yeah?" She said with a grin that made your heart flutter.

You looked down at the number sprawled messily across your palm, and then back at her. You gave her a shy smile.

"Alright. Sure." You replied.

"Great." Billie said, grin widening into a smile of her own. "You have a good rest of your night—"

"Wait." You said, stopping her from walking off. She was silent as she waited for you to continue, staring at you with expectancy.

"Do you… do you just carry around a pen with you all the time, or…?"

Billie laughed at that, and you immediately found yourself replaying the sound in your head.

"Of course I do. I need to have it on me just in case I run into any pretty girls like you." She spoke, the flirtatious words easily and smoothly pouring out of her like butter. You let out a giggle, biting your lip to stop your smile from growing any bigger. You were feeling like a hormonal teenager all over again because of this mysterious woman's charm. You had a feeling that she probably used that line on a ton of women, but it didn't make you feel any less like a flustered mess.

Billie seemed to thoroughly enjoy your reaction to her shameless flirting, her own smile never once leaving her lips.

At that moment, the heated tension between the two of you was intercepted as a familiar face rounded the corner.

"Oh my god, there you are—" your friend, Carly, exclaimed. Surprisingly, she didn't seem super drunk, only mildly buzzed, her face flushed, hairs sticking to her forehead due to a light coating of sweat.

"I was looking everywhere for you—oh. Hello." Carly suddenly noticed Billie's presence.

Billie's smile faltered a bit at the sudden appearance of another person. "Uh… hey." She said.

"Um… was I interrupting something?" Carly spoke. You saw her wiggling her eyebrows, which immediately caused you to roll your eyes.

"You ready to go?" You asked, ignoring her question.

"Are you?" She retaliated with a knowing smirk. You glanced at Billie, who wore an unreadable expression.

"Don't let me keep you." Billie uttered, and the slight hint of disappointment in her voice was just barely noticeable. "You seemed kinda tired anyway."

"Yeah," you replied quietly, feeling awkwardness creep into the atmosphere. You looked back at Carly. "We can go." You said. Carly nodded, grabbing your hand. As the two of you began walking toward the front of the building, you stole one last glance at Billie.

Her smirk had returned, and while making a phone gesture with her hand, she mouthed the words: "Call me?"

You just shrugged, a smirk of your own tugging at the corners of your lips as you disappeared around the corner.

Eventually, you and Carly made it back to the car, where your other friends were in the backseat, completely knocked out. Since you had barely anything to drink, you decided to be the one to drive.

The ride back to your place was quiet for a while, the car radio softly playing some songs from Carly's playlist. Soon enough, though, your slightly tipsy friend in the front seat next to you piped up.

"So… you gonna tell me all about that fucking hottie back there?" She asked. Your eyes were locked on the road, not even looking at her, but you could hear the teasing smile in her voice.

"She just… walked up to me. She was already out there."

"Was she hitting on you?"

You felt your cheeks heat up thinking back to your brief conversation with her. "Yeah… I think she was."

"Oh my god. Please tell me you got her number. If I find out you walked away from her without getting those fucking digits I swear to god—"

"Yes, she gave me her number." You said, chewing on your bottom lip, once again trying to stop a smile from growing— you couldn't have your friend seeing just how smitten you were already for a girl you knew for all of twenty minutes.

You heard Carly gasp excitedly. "Holy shit. Girl, you better fucking pounce on that. Before I do."

"You literally have a girlfriend."

"Yeah, well, we've been talking about having an open relationship lately, so… she wouldn't mind."

You couldn't hold back your surprised laughter. "Oh my god." You said through a fit of chuckles.

The rest of the car ride home, you couldn't stop thinking about thr mysterious, dark-haired woman. You couldn't stop thinking about that devilish smirk she wore. You couldn't stop thinking about her intoxicating scent.

Yeah. You were definitely calling that number.

_____

"Okay, so… how do I look?" You asked your friend Carly via video call, standing in front of the mirror while you filmed yourself adjusting your flowy, white blouse. You hadn't gone out on a date in ages—to say that you were quite nervous was putting it lightly.

"You look gorgeous. You're totally getting some tonight." Carly said. You chuckled at that, rolling your eyes and feeling warmth rush to your face.

"Oh, shut up," you said playfully. Looking at the screen, you saw Carly shrug, sporting a teasing smile.

"What? Isn't that the end goal?" She questioned.

"I mean… I would say the end goal is not making a fool out of myself." You replied earnestly, your stomach feeling as if it was in knots currently; Bilie had already texted you a few minutes ago saying she was on her way, and any second now she'd appear right outside your house. You really hoped you wouldn't turn into babbling idiot upon seeing her face.

"That's not gonna happen," Carly reassured. "You've gone on plenty of dates before, what's different this time?"

"It's been a million years, Carly." You stated.

"So what? Just… keep doing what you've always done, y'know? Be yourself."

You let the truth of your friend's words really set in, and you began to feel yourself relax ever so slightly. You breathed in and out, now looking at yourself in the mirror with a newfound confidence. You hoped that confidence would be here to stay.

"You always know just what to say." You spoke, your tone a mix of playful and sincere.

"Of course. I'm a genius." Carly jokingly replied. You smiled, opening your mouth to respond, when you suddenly heard your doorbell ring.

You froze, and you couldn't ignore the way your heart rate increased in mere seconds.

"Oh shit, she's here." You said with barely contained enthusiasm. "I gotta go. Thanks for the fashion advice."

Carly grinned, giving you a wink. "Any time. Hope you have the best sex of your li-"

You hung up on her in the middle of your sentence, once again rolling your eyes at your friend's bluntness, wearing an amused smile.

You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, quickly straightening out your shirt and pants and doing last minute readjustments to your hair. You did all of this in the span of a few seconds, not wanting to keep Billie waiting for too long. Soon enough, you were exiting your bathroom and heading toward your front door, grabbing your purse on the way.

You were not at all prepared for what you'd be greeted with upon opening it.

There Billie stood, her long, shiny dark hair down and framing her face beautifully. She was wearing a standard black suit, one that was stylishly oversized, with a matching black tie and simple, thin glasses that rested perfectly on her nose. In the daylight, she appeared paler than you initially thought, but no less gorgeous. When her eyes locked onto your face, she gave you a grin that caused a million and one butterflies to viciously attack your stomach. You also didn't miss the way her eyes quickly gave you a once over, her bottom lip being pulled between her teeth briefly as she took you in.

"Hey, pretty girl. You look absolutely stunning."

Immediately, you found yourself looking down at the ground shyly, a wide smile overtaking your features. "Thank you, Billie." You replied. Your eyes met her again, and you gazed appreciatively at her own outfit once more.

"You look… wonderful as well." You said. She also looked like the sexiest woman alive but you didn't want to lay it on too thick too soon.

"Thanks," Billie replied, still sporting that lazy grin. "You got everything?"

"Um… yeah. Yes." You spoke nervously. Billie just chuckled endearingly at your slightly anxious disposition.

"Okay, then. Let's go." She said, offering you her arm to hold onto. It was such a simple action, and yet you already felt yourself swooning.

She politely walked you to the car (which was just as sexy as the person driving it, you noted), and when you both got there, Billie was quick to open the door to passenger's seat for you. The chivalrous, gentlemanly action made your heart warm, and you were sure to mutter a shy "thank you" in response.

The car ride to the restaurant (a sandwhich place specifically, one that was your favorite—Billie let you choose), was pleasant and comfortable, the sound of Billie's playlist softly playing from her car's speakers. You couldn't help but shamelessly stare at Billie as she drove, her gaze locked on the road ahead of her. Sometimes, she drove with one hand for a bit, and whenever she did you were thankful that you were already seated because otherwise your knees would have buckled at the sight.

You were only pulled out of your ogling when you noticed Billie had turned the music down.

"So," she began, smiling cutely. "How was your day?"

"Boring, for the most part. I was at work just feeling… antsy. I've been really looking forward to this." You replied honestly.

"Me too. I was… really hoping you'd call." Billie said, her voice getting a tad smaller in volume toward the end of the sentence, seemingly a little shy about her confession, which you found positively endearing since she was normally so flirtatious and bold (from what you've seen of her so far, anyway).

"Is that so?" You replied with a grin. "Well, I would have been the world's biggest idiot to not call you. It only took me a while because I was, uh…" you trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrasment wash over you.

At a red light, Billie glanced at you quizzically, wondering why you had cut yourself off. "You were…?"

You chuckled, absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your blouse. "I was, um… nervous."

"Nervous?" Billie repeated, and even though you were no longer looking at her, you could hear the teasing lilt to her voice.

"Yeah," you confirmed in a meek voice, chuckling some more—it was something you often did automatically when anxious, like a reflex.

"So you're saying… I make you nervous."

You felt your face heat up even more, so much so that sticking your head in a bucket of cold ice water felt highly appealing at the moment. "Well—I mean, it's been a while since my last date, so that's definitely why, but… I guess it is also because of you." You said.

You heard Billie let out an adorable giggle of her own. "God, you're so fucking cute." You heard her say quietly, under her breath almost, like she didn't want you to hear—but of course, you caught onto to every word, and the compliment only unleased the butterflies within your stomach yet again.

"Well, pretty girl, you don't have to be nervous around me. You don't find me intimidating, do you?" Billie asked playfully.

"Well, not neccessarily intimidating, just… really funny. And beautiful. I wanna make a good impression."

Billie smirked. "You already made a good first impression at that club the other night."

"Really?" You said with a groan as you recalled the events of that night and your embarrassing actions. "Even though I was… kinda being a weirdo?"

"I told you, I found it hot."

"You were being serious about that?" You said through breathy laughter.

"Of course I was."

"You are… something else." You said, to which Billie just smiled.

_____

Several minutes of playful banter later, you and Billie had finally made it to the quaint little sandwich shop. It was a small place, and the atmosphere was quiet and tranquil as there were only a few other customers spread out in the building. The both of you chose to sit in a cozy booth, in front of a large window that looked out to various people going about their day, the sunlight providing natural lightning that filled the entire area. Upon sitting down, a waitress was already coming to serve the both of you, taking both of your orders for drinks and handing you the menu before shuffling away. You got the same thing every time you came here, so you really didn't look at the menu much at all. You glanced at Billie, who only browsed through the menu for a couple of minutes before setting it down and placing it aside. She seemed to have decided what she wanted fairly quickly.

"So," Billie began with a grin. "Do you come to this place a lot?"

"Yeah. It's great. Have you been here before?"

Billie shook her head. "Nope, first time. Honestly, I don't really… eat out much."

"I see. You more of a delivery person? Or, do you prefer cooking?"

"Uh… sure. Yeah." Billie replied a little awkwardly, shifting in her seat. You weren't sure what she was saying "yeah" to, the delivery part or the cooking part, but you didn't think anything of it, finding her more endearing than anything.

She cleared her throat. "You already know what you're getting?"

"Yup. I get the same thing every time. This place makes a killer BLT," You replied. "What about you? I noticed you didn't look at the menu for very long. Something caught your eye already?"

"The roasted cauliflower sandwich sounds good."

"Ooh, it does," You said, picking up the menu to find the sandwich in question to briefly read the ingredients. You noticed that it was under the vegan section.

"You're vegan?" You asked, not in a accusatory way but simply out of pure curiosity.

Billie cleared her throat before replying. "Uh—yeah. Have been my whole life." she spoke, absentmindedly fiddling with the several rings on her fingers.

"I've tried going vegan, but there's just so many foods I can't pass up."

Billie chuckled. "Yeah, well, it's certaintly not the kind of diet that suits everyone."

"That's true." You agreed.

Shortly after your brief conversation, you both ordered your food, and much to your surprise (and delight) the food arrived fairly quickly, and you and Billie didn't have to wait for very long.

While you felt a little awkward initially, as time went on, you found yourself relaxing more and more in Billie's presence. The two of you meshed well together; you both had similar senses of humor and equally found each other hilarious, and you even had a lot of things in common in terms of hobbies. During your date with Billie you also discovered that she had two adorable pitbulls, an older brother, a job as a music producer and songwriter, and that she used to be in a choir growing up. Every little thing that you learned about her only made you love her more, and frankly you didn't want the date to end. Billie never at any point slowed down the conversation, and she was so attentive when you were speaking, her eyes fixed on you the entire time as she asked several follow-up questions, hanging onto your every word. You didn't expect to mesh so well with her, and for a second, you almost forgot that the whole reason this started was because you both wanted a casual hook-up and nothing serious. At the reminder, you felt a twinge in your heart; the last thing you wanted was to fall in love with someone who clearly wasn't looking for commitment, so you shoved those feelings away for now.

When there was finally a lull in conversation between the both of you, you felt like it was necessary to talk more in detail about your particular… arrangement.

"So, uh…" You began, shifting a bit in your seat. "We should probably talk about our… y'know. Situation."

Leaning back in her seat, Billie seemed to immediately catch what you were throwing at her. "Right," she said with a smirk. "What about it?"

"Well… how exactly does a casual relationship even work? To be honest, I've never really—I mean, I just don't have much experience with—"

"We can just hang out. Y'know, like friends. Friends who fuck occasionally." Billie said, and her bluntness had your eyebrows raising slightly.

"Oh. Okay." You said, and at your expression of surprise, contagious laughter arose from Billie's throat.

"Cute," she muttered to herself before leaning in a bit closer to you, pushing her now clean plate aside and placing her arms on the table. "Anyway, that's what you want, right? I don't want you to agree to anything that you're iffy about it. You're free to change your mind about this whole thing."

Your heart warmed at Billie's consideration. You took a moment to actually think about it; even though casual was never really your thing, your friends all insisted that you might enjoy the freedom that comes with a no-strings attached relationship, and you felt like you might as well give it go since you only live once, after all. You hoped it wouldn't end in a total heartbreak—although, if it did, you'd probably get good sex out of it, which was kind of a silver lining.

You met Billie's eyes with a serious gaze. "Yes. I do want this."

"Okay… and you're cool with this relationship being open? As in, we can both see other people while also seeing each other?"

Honestly, with how attractive Billie was physically and personality wise, you didn't see yourself spending time with another woman, but you agreed anyway, nodding your head. "Yeah. That's fine."

At that, a smile grew on Billie's lips. "Okay. Great."

Having eaten a good meal and talked about all the important stuff, you and Billie finally left the sandwich shop, right as the sun was dipping past the horizon. The sky was a beautiful mix of oranges and pinks, and it had cooled down a bit, a slight breeze in the air. You and Billie both agreed that you didn't want the date to stop there, so the two of you rather impulsively decided to take a walk in the park, admiring the sunset side by side. Even then, it was like you could never run out of things to talk about with Billie. Your first date with your ex wasn't even this long, surprisingly.

Unfornately, it was getting late, and Billie had to drive you back home. But even when she walked you all the way to your door, you still didn't feel like the day was over.

You had your key in the door, but before turning it, you looked at Billie with a contemplative gaze.

"Y'know… the night's still young," you began, wearing a crooked grin. "Do you want to come in, Billie?"

Billie bit her lip as she smiled knowingly.

"I'd love to." She replied, and your grin turned into a wide smile of your own as you finally opened the door, inviting her inside.

It was totally innocent at first. Billie had made herself comfortable, taking off her shoes and her blazer. The two of you decided to put on a movie, and at first, you both were sitting with a respectable amount of distance between the two of you; but at some point during the movie, you both grew closer to each other, unknowingly. There was also a moment where Billie wrapped an arm around your shoulder, and you instantly felt yourself melting into her side. The two of you fit together so naturally, like you were both missing pieces to a puzzle. Her vanilla-scented perfume was intoxicating, and so was the warmth of her touch.

At some point, you weren't really focusing on the movie anymore. You placed a sly hand on Billie's thigh, not moving it; just keeping it there, but when Billie didn't respond, keeping her eyes on the film, you squeezed ever so gently.

That's when Billie looked at you then, raising an eyebrow.

"To be honest, Billie…" you said, meeting her eyes. "This movie is kinda boring."

Billie grinned. "I thought so too," she replied, her eyes briefly flickering down to your lips.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked her, but you definitely already knew the answer and just wanted to tease.

"I'm thinking about… kissing the shit out of you."

You leaned in impossibly closer to her, your voice barely above a whisper as you responded with, "What's stopping you?"

At that, Billie didn't hesitate, immediately closing the small distance between the both of you. One of your hands went up to cup her face as you passionately moved your lips against hers. Billie tilted her head, deepening the kiss, and after only a couple of minutes you felt her tongue swipe at your bottom lip, silently asking for permission. You didn't waste a second in giving her what she so politely was asking for, opening your mouth slightly and feeling the tip of your tongue meet hers.

At some point, without even fully realizing it, you had climbed into Billie's lap; her hands were gripping your waist tightly, as if you'd disappear into thin air if she let go for so much as a second. The glasses that rested atop her nose were shifting a bit, and she pulled away for a split second to hastily remove them and throw them elsewhere on the couch before immediately going back to kissing you.

As time went on, things only got more intense; in your growing neediness, you found yourself slowly grinding into her lap, and Billie's hands slowly moved from your waist to your ass, guiding your movements. You needed her like you needed oxygen, and with every passing second your clothes were feeling more and more like annoying barriers.

You pulled away reluctantly, looking at Billie with eyes blown wide and lips shiny with spit. You tugged on the black tie that she was still wearing.

"You are sexy as hell in this suit, but I need you out of it."

Billie let out a laugh, one that sounded a bit breathless. "That can be arranged, baby." She said, and the pet name that rolled off her tongue made you swoon.

You both stood up, going back to kissing each other, trying to walk to your bedroom at the same time. You stumbled into walls and corners here and there, giggling the entire way.

When you both made it to your bedroom, Billie had kept walking you toward your bed until your knees hit the edge of it; you instinctively laid down, and Billie quickly crawled on top of you, keeping some of her weight off of you as she continued attacking your lips.

Eventually, she began kissing down to your neck, biting and sucking, and you even heard her inhale, feeling her nose pressed into your skin.

"Fuck," Billie groaned. "You—you smell so good. Holy shit."

You grinned at that. "You can still smell the perfume I chose for you?"

"Yeah, I can but—I meant you. Your skin."

"Oh," you said, letting out some surprised chuckles. "So it's my body wash you like?"

"Yeah… yeah, that…" Billie trailed off, continuing to pepper your neck in kisses and small bites. You were letting out pleased sighs the entire time, your eyes fluttering shut. You felt Billie's fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

"Can I take this off?" She asked you, tugging at it impatiently. You immediately nodded with zero hesitation, and Billie made quick work of removing the article of clothing, throwing it haphazardly to the floor. You sat up a bit to remove your bra, lazily throwing it elsewhere as well. You watched Billie's hooded eyes take in your shirtless form, her eyes widening ever so slightly as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Oh my god." She muttered under her breath. "I want to devour you." She just barely whispered.

Your felt heat rush to your face at her words. "Please do. But take off your shirt, first." You said with a playful smirk.

Billie chuckled, following your command. She removed the tie, and with a painful slowness unbuttoned her clean, white shirt. Even just seeing her in her pretty lace bra was enough to leave you breathless.

Soon enough, the bra was off too, and your mouth watered at the sight of her breasts looking so soft and perfect—but before you could even suggest playing with them for a bit, Billie returned to kissing down your body, and immediately, all thoughts left your mind.

Her mouth latched onto a nipple, and you gasped, squirming underneath her as her tongue swirled around the hardening bud. Her other hand played with the other one, tugging gently. Your eyes were shut again, focusing closely on the pleasurable sensations you were experiencing.

Billie gave the same treatment to your other breast, this time switching it up a bit by quickly flicking her tongue up and down, and you already felt your back arching a bit, your gasps turning into drawn out whines.

"Billie," you moaned. "Fuck, please—"

Billie released your breast from her mouth with an audible pop. "What do you want, baby?" She teased.

You tried pushing her further down, attempting to silently communicate to her where you really needed her mouth. But Billie wasn't taking your whiny pleas as an answer.

"You're a big girl, mama. Use your words." Billie said, her attractive voice low and stern. The way the new pet name sounded in her voice nearly made you lightheaded and you desperately needed to hear it again. You let out an impatient groan, but you were no doubt enjoying every minute of this.

"Please, Billie—I want your mouth," You pleaded. "Please. Please give it to me."

"Where do you want my mouth, baby? Gotta be more specific." She said with an evil smirk on her face. With every passing minute, you felt the throbbing sensation in your cunt become more and more unbearable, and that damn look on Billie's face only made it worse.

"Fuck—need your tongue on my pussy, Billie, please."

At that, Billie gave you a pleased smile. "Atta girl." She said, already moving her hands to the buttons of your jeans. You raised your hips, helping Billie in removing them from your lower body, along with your socks. You instictively spread your bare legs, suddenly feeling a little bit embarrased at the wet spot that you no doubt knew was prominent on your cotton underwear. You watched as Billie licked her lips, staring at your cunt as if she was in a trance.

She hadn't even done anything yet but you were already gripping the bedsheets in anticipation.

At that moment, she took two fingers, hooking them around the waistband of your underwear and pulling them, before suddenly releasing and letting the waistband snap back against your skin. You let out a surprised yelp, which Billie chuckled at, before moving those fingers directly against your fabric-covered cunt.

"Can fucking feel how wet you are—can see it, too," Billie said, expertly finding your clit even through your underwear and rubbing it in slow circles that made you squirm. "I want you to cum in my mouth, mama. How does that sound?"

You nearly moaned at her words alone. "Yes—yes, fuck, please." Was all you could muster, your body and mind completely overcome with unadultered desire. You don't remember the last time you felt so turned on, so needy.

When Billie was done teasing you through fabric, she slowly began to remove your underwater, tossing them aside once they were fully off. Your pussy lay bare in front of her, glistening and clenching around nothing, and Billie gasped.

"Look at this pretty fucking cunt, all for me," she said, her breathe hitting your folds. "Goddamn."

"Billie, I swear to god—"

You were about to complain about how slow she was being until you suddenly felt her mouth on your soft thighs. She peppered small kisses there, purposefully avoiding the place you needed her the most. She did this for a minute or two, leaving your whole body on edge.

But finally—finally, you felt her two fingers spread you open a bit more, messily spitting directly onto your center, before she gave your needy pussy one long and slow stripe of her tongue, her lips gently closing around your clit when she reached the top. Immediately, your head was thrown back into the pillows and your hands flew into Billie's hair, gripping tightly.

"Yes—fuck yes, Billie," you cried out, pure bliss washing over you as Billie moved her tongue against your heat with so much skill and practiced ease. She went into a steady pattern, licking around your clit in circles before gently sucking it, while also not forgetting to give you broad, long strokes every now and then. You were writhing around a lot more now, and Billie had to hold you down, keeping your legs forced open so you couldn't close them around your head. She held onto you, tightly, not letting you escape her tongue for so much as a second. You felt like you were in heaven.

You tried not to pull her hair too hard, but Billie didn't even seem to care, too busy devouring you like you were her last meal on earth. She played your body like an instrument, knowing exactly which buttons to press that made you lose all sense of reality.

“Oh my god, Billie– fuck.” You cursed, feeling completely overwhelmed by the immense amount of pleasure you were receiving. With your eyes closed, it allowed you to really hone in on every precise swipe of Billie's tongue– and eventually, her fingers.

You felt two of Billie's slender digits push into you, while her tongue started focusing directly on your bundle of nerves. That was enough to make you squeal, your legs attempting to close around Billie's head, but failing due to her keeping them pried open.

She was thrusting her fingers in and out of you at a fairly quick pace, and her lips never stopped their gentle suction around your clit. The combination of her fingers against your walls and the direct clit stimulation very quickly brought you close to your peak, your eyes squeezed shut and your chest moving up and down rapidly. You felt a tightening sensation within your stomach, and it was getting tighter every passing second. When you felt your orgasm on the rise, you decided to open your eyes, wanting to look at Billie's face while you climaxed. It was no surprise when they fluttered open that you were met with Billie's eyes already on you, staring at you hungrily.

“Billie– fuck, don't you dare fucking stop,” you squeezed out in between loud moans. Billie obliged, not stopping or slowing down for so much as a second, well aware of how close you were—even though she hadn't known you for long, she could easily tell when a woman was at the edge, the subtle changes in body language extremely noticeable to her keen eyes.

You felt it—as Billie kept up with her ministrations, looking at you with her intense gaze, it quickly became too much for you. The tightening sensation in your gut finally reached its peak, and you felt yourself tumbling into an orgasm, fast.

"Oh my god—fuck yes, Billie—fuck—!"

Your orgasm washed over you in waves; the feeling was pure euphoria, your toes curling and your hands flying out of Billie's hair to clutch the sheets with a death grip instead. Your back arched beautifully, and while you were still feeling every little shock, Billie didn't let up, allowing you to ride out the sensation of your orgasm until it gradually faded away. It wasn't until your legs were twitching and you were gently pushing her away that she slowed down, and eventually removed her mouth from your center.

When you were able to open your eyes, you looked down at Billie, noticing how the lower half of her face glistened with your juices and how her eyes glazed over. You were suddenly feeling shy again at the mess you made.

Your head went back into the pillow as you let out an airy laugh, still trying to catch your breath.

"Fuck, Billie… I want you all to myself." You said in a daze, not even fully aware of the sentence that left your mouth.

"Me too," you heard Billie reply. "God, I want more."

Billie sounded starved, as if eating you out wasn't enough for her. You chuckled.

"Just—just give me a minute, and then maybe we can—"

Suddenly, you felt a sharp, prickly sensation. Billie was biting you—but it didn't feel like the gentle, playful bites that Billie was giving you earlier. This bite was painful.

You gasped.

"Billie—ow! Fuck, that hurts—"

But then, the pain slowly morphed into something more pleasurable. Your brain was completely confused at the dual sensations.

You let out a moan as you felt Billie's mouth remain in place. You looked down, still too fucked out to fully process what was happening, but you saw Billie's mouth latched onto your thigh, her eyes closed in bliss. Your eyebrows furrowed.

It wasn't until Billie pulled away that your eyes completely widened—in fear.

There were two puncture wounds in your thigh, and you saw two very sharp teeth in Billie's mouth that strangely were not there just a few minutes ago. There was a red substance pouring from your puncture wounds and dripping from Billie's mouth—obviously blood.

"Billie? What—what the fuck?" You said, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

Billie stared back at you, a sudden expression of shock taking over her face like she only just now realized what she had done.

"I'm so sorry—shit," She exclaimed, panic in her voice. "Something came over me—I was just so hungry, fuck."

That was the last thing you heard before your head hit the pillow again and everything went black.

_____

When you awoke, you were greeted with your bedroom ceiling. The room was dim, and you could tell that the sole light source was coming from the lamp on your bedside table.

You felt dizzy, so you didn't make any sudden moves just yet. You laid there, trying to piece together everything that happened the past few hours. It didn't take you long for your memories to come rushing back in. You looked down and noticed that you were atop the covers; your puncture wound was no longer bleeding.

Fangs. A bite mark. Blood. Billie.

You turned your head, and there Billie was, also staring up at the ceiling, her shirt that was previously discarded covering her frame again. She saw you move out of the corner of her eye, and immediately, she was facing you, rolling over onto her side. You could feel her breathe fan across your face.

"Hey, baby," She said softly. "Are you okay?"

You slowly sat up, wincing at the pain you felt in your thigh. Billie looked at you apologetically, also sitting up alongside you.

"Billie… you have some explaining to do."

She sighed. "I know… I'm so sorry—"

"And— I have a lot of fucking questions."

"I totally understand. I'll tell you everything you wanna know. I'll explain everything. I swear. I'm sorry, baby."

"It's…" you trailed off, releasing a sigh of your own. Your eyelids were still heavy with fatigue. "It's okay, Billie."

She looked at you with her eyebrows raised in surprise. "You're not… afraid of me? You're not gonna kick me out?"

"No. I'm not." You told her sincerely. "I just—it feels like I'm dreaming. I can't believe you're… you're a…"

"I know it's a lot to take in." Billie interjected. You scoffed.

"That's putting it lightly."

"Look," Billie began, gently holding one of your hands. You tensed a bit when she touched you, but eventually relaxed.

"I shouldn't have bitten you. Without your consent. But I just—I can't control my actions when I go too long without feeding. It's… a whole thing that I can explain later, but—"

"Billie." You interrupted, squeezing her hand.

She looked at you with eyes full of guilt; it was clear she felt terrible about what she had done, and it warmed your heart to see how sorry she felt.

"Can you… stay the night? I just want you to hold me. I'm tired." You said.

Billie seemed taken aback at your request, clearly not expecting such a response. She was frozen for a while, processing your words, before eventually nodding.

"Yeah. I can do that." She replied. You gave her a tired, barely there smile, one that she returned.

The two of you laid back down together, getting under the covers, Billie wrapping an arm around you as you nestled into her chest. You could feel her bare legs underneath the blankets; she had discarded her pants at some point.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you'd ever come into close contact with a vampire—those were creatures that, for a long time, you thought only existed in fiction. But now one was holding you and kissing your head and laying with you, and even though you had a million questions plaguing your mind, all you wanted to focus on was the pretty girl you were cuddling with.

You quietly laughed to yourself at the absurdity of it all.

"What?" Billie said, ears catching the sound of your chuckles.

"Nothing," you said. "Thanks, Billie. For the date."

"Of course." She replied, and you could hear the smile in her voice.

The both of you would definitely talk later, but for now, you only cared about the lovely vampire woman keeping you company.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish smut #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x female reader #billie eilish x fem!reader

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chosenofyffre · 3 days ago

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^ This.

I'm one of those who needs engagement to stay motivated to share my writing. And these days I get a handful of kudos at best, and maybe a single comment every now and then. I stopped writing for a whole damn year because engagement was so dismal. I thought that since so many readers couldn't be bothered to give my fics a chance, let alone kudos or comment when they did read, I didn't feel like making the effort to post anything.

It honestly makes me so happy to get comments that I try to stay positive to keep people from being "scared" to comment. But it's not anything I do or don't do that causes this, it's fandom and its fic readers changing the way things work. We went from a fandom of support and cooperation and collaborative fun to some sort of competition to "consume" things that inevitably favors those who are already popular or get popular through having a lot of friends, and hurts those of us who, for reasons largely outside of our control, don't catch the eyes of most readers.

It fucking sucks to be one of the ones getting ignored. Even in the heydays of my old fandoms, I was never all that popular, but it was nowhere near this demoralizingly bad. And I don't know how to change it, or to get more readers to engage.

Anyway, I have nothing to lose so I'm just gonna link my AO3 accounts here.

My main with all my fandom fic: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrigal_nights

My origfic: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruit_holic

A shout out to all the writers out there who don’t make the rec lists or have all the buzz or get all the traffic and attention or kudos. Your work is still valuable and appreciated and loved, and without you and your fics, fandom would be so much poorer.

Keep on writing and creating and sharing your works. You have an audience who loves you.

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jo-harrington · 1 day ago

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Antiquing v. Thrifting (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: You have a little booth at the local antique market and the owner of the neighboring booth tends to get on your nerves.

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Slight enemies to lovers, meet cute, misunderstandings, fluff, banter

Note: This is a late birthday gift to one of my fandom loves who has become an amazing friend IRL too. @bettyfrommars. Betty thank you for being one of my weirdo soulmates, loving old gameshows, wishing we could live in a mid century modern house with all of the original fun appliances. You are one of my favorite people and since I can't send you my bowling ball (one day) I've written this for you. Love you.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

There was not much to drive you to want to murder someone. In fact, you would say that you were probably one of the most easygoing people you knew. And you knew plenty of people.

But the person at the receiving end of your ire, and the target of your bloodlust, was one of the most inconsiderate assholes you knew.

Actually, you didn’t even know who it was.

You’d been one of the vendors at The Little Traveler's Antique Market for years. You had a booth along the back wall, acquired when you realized your love of vintage Pyrex was getting a little too overzealous for your shoebox-cum-condo. Besides, the thrill of the hunt was the real thing that you enjoyed: estate sales and rummage sales and thrift stores were filled with treasures just waiting for you to find.

So a few shelves of Gooseberry and Butterprint went up, and eventually it turned into a haven for all sorts of vintage pieces. It was a shrine to your whims, rather than any real desire to find monetary value. Of course, people seemed to flock to it, so the cash you made from it was nice..but that was neither here nor there.

It was something you were good at, and something you loved. You'd met some very interesting people--and some of your closest friends--because of it. Heard the best stories.

Unfortunately, you'd also met some of the most insufferable people because of it too. Or rather, in this case, one insufferable person you pointedly had not met.

It had started when a bunch of Royal Doulton character mugs showed up in your space. And they weren't terrible, but they just weren't yours. Your hand-picked selection of Hazel Atlas glasses had been carelessly shoved to the side on a vintage mahogany sideboard you'd painstakingly hauled in, and in their place were Paddy and Toby and George Fucking Washington, all staring goofily up at you.

Ok, so maybe the Anne Boleyn one wasn't bad.

It was the principle of it. There were unspoken rules in an Antique Market. You just didn't encroach on someone else's space.

You painted the kindest smile you could manage--which, in all honesty, probably looked more like you were baring your teeth--and headed up to the front to confront the manager of the market.

"Margie," you began with a saccharine tone. You set the Anne Boelyn mug down on the counter. "May I kindly ask who Seller 86 is?"

"Oh, that's our new guy," she laughed, oblivious. "Ed. Great guy. He's got some fun stuff."

"Yeah, real fun."

"We did a little shuffle over the weekend," she continued, diving into one of her rambling midwest-isms. "Jim wanted to downsize, which opened a bigger space for Michelle to move into. One thing led to another, and I put Ed in Chelle's old space, next to yours. Hope you don't mind."

What could you say except a cordial of course not? Even as you were left to grumble and mope back to your booth to move all of the Royal Doulton back to Ed's new space. You set them out on a folding table he had in the corner, very nice and neat, which was your standard.

You might have also left a little, tiny, friendly, scathing note.

No big deal.

And you wouldn't lie, you snooped a little.

Come on, everyone else would, too. It was just...shopping. Not snooping.

You couldn't judge the wild array of things he had for sale; much like you, it seemed that everything in Ed's booth was suited to his tastes, because there was just a vibe of "who in their right mind would put some of this shit together." Little taxidermy animals playing poker, postcards from the most random places, vintage beer and coffee cans that, though empty, looked as new as the day they were bought. Garfield and Snoopy memorabilia. And mugs...so many mugs, as far as the eye could see.

It was charming, you could admit that, as long as it all stayed on his side of the vaguely-defined boundary between your booths.

Unfortunately, it did not.

It was never anything major but it was enough to annoy you. Books left out on a table, vinyl records in a crate in a corner, gaudy biker costume jewelry thrown in one of your mixing bowls. Each time you went to restock your booth, you'd have to find whatever treasures he left behind and return them, along with another note.

It was like finding the secret little corner where your cat pissed because they were mad at you. Admittedly, this might've been worse because you were proud. So very proud of your booth. It was a snapshot of you, after all. But that was sullied by little pieces of Ed, a guy you didn't even know, who seemed to enjoy pissing strangers off.

Every week, he metaphorically photobombed your snapshot at the last second and your perfect polaroid had bunny ears.

Or a crude gesture.

Or sometimes even his whole, bare ass.

And you were simply not vindictive enough to do anything about it.

It just wasn't worth the trouble to actually return the favor to him, or better yet, get him kicked from the market altogether. What if his little booth was his livelihood? What if this was how he made ends meet? Your pride wasn't worth ruining something for someone else.

Yes. You were a pushover.

You, surprisingly, got a reprieve for a few weeks.

Each time you'd gone to restock your booth with fun new treasures, there were no hidden trinkets waiting for you. Actually, Ed's booth didn't even look like it had been restocked or touched at all. There were holes in his displays where his wares had been purchased but not replenished. Was he on vacation? Maybe he was under the weather.

You took it upon yourself to spend a few minutes shuffling his mugs like a good neighbor would.

It was a disappointment relief.

Why wouldn't it be a relief? It wasn't like you'd started looking forward to what and where you'd find Ed's little surprises. It wasn't the thrill you'd get when the adrenaline spiked with your anger.

No, not at all.

"What's got you so pouty?" Margie asked as you trudged through the doors about three weeks after Ed's initial disappearance. "Did Dunkin get your coffee wrong again? That's how I know my morning is gonna be shitty."

"Must've woken up on the wrong side of the bed," you gave a weak excuse and headed towards your booth.

You were juggling an armful of tote bags and your coat, so you didn't notice the stranger standing in your space as you approached, until they turned around and spotted you.

"Oh, hey, lemme help you with that," came the rasp of a friendly voice as you rounded the corner. You looked up, surprised, as a set of hands hoisted the heaviest of your tote bags from your grasp.

He was like a relic, frozen in time. In a good way, though, like a well-kept polaroid from the 80s. Faded band tee, bootcut blue jeans, leather jacket that looked butter-soft from eons of wear. His hair was on the longer side and tied back; salt-and-pepper streaks proudly confirmed his personal antique status, along with the crows feet surrounding his deep, warm brown eyes.

He was a gentleman...and he was cute.

You felt like an idiot as your eyes slid down to his left hand on instinct. But there was no ring, so that self-loathing feeling disappeared. Well, no wedding ring, actually. He had a gunmetal band on his pointer finger, and a silver signet ring on his pinky.

Time returned to its appropriate speed as he hauled the tote onto your folding table just a few feet away.

"Jesus, what've you got in here? Bricks?" he laughed. "Are you trying to put Home Depot out of business?"

"Uh..." You floundered for words. "P-pewter tea pots. One of my regulars is getting married. Asked me to keep an eye out for them for her centerpieces."

"Never seen that at a wedding before."

"How many weddings have you been to?" You questioned.

"Well, my buddy Gareth alone has gotten married 3 times." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned his hip against your sideboard. "So I think I've got a pretty good chance that I've seen it all.

"Is there anything I can help you find today?" you asked, laying your best customer service voice on thickly. You busied yourself with unpacking your bags so you wouldn't have to look at the charming, crooked smile that settled on his mouth. "Was there anything that caught your eye before my hopeless self stumbled over here?"

"Ah," he pushed off the sideboard and tilted his head up so he could scratch along the length of his neck. "I, uh, was looking at your cookie jars, actually."

"Oh yeah?" You looked up at that and glanced over to the hutch in the corner that held an array of Pillsbury doughboys in various, charming poses. "Can I tell you a secret? I used to hate watching commercials with Poppin' Fresh. That claymation was frightening. I think he's pretty cute now, though."

You abandoned your unpacking and approached the hutch to try and figure which cookie jar he'd been intrigued by. You picked up a jar that had its lid askew and were about to ask if he wanted you to bring it up to the counter for him, when you lifted the lid and looked inside.

And found a rubber-banded stack of Metallica cassettes carefully nestled inside.

You felt your face get hot as you stared at the track listing and colorful cover art of Ride the Lightning. Coincidentally the same album that was on this newcomer's t-shirt.

"So," you huffed and slammed the lid on the cookie jar, careless of any damage it might cause. "You're Ed, huh?"

He chuckled behind you, "Eddie, actually. I prefer to go by Eddie. But yeah, that's me." You pivoted on your heel and glared at him; he faltered under your burning gaze. "Nice to, uh, meet you. Neighbor."

And with that, you let him have it.

You might've blacked out at some point during the absolute barrage of a verbal dressing down you gave him. How dare he not respect the etiquette of the market and stay within the confines of his allotted space, how dare he waste your time week after week as simply minded your own business and sold your trinkets, and how dare he ignore every single note that you left behind.

The fucker had the audacity to look amused with every word that fell from your lips.

In the end, you stood there, huffing and puffing as you caught your breath and felt several months of anger finally extinguish.

"You done there, killer?" Eddie asked with a smirk. "You feel better?"

"Yeah," you shouted one last time, then lowered your voice. "Yes I do."

"Alright, good." He nodded. "Gotta get it out sometimes, otherwise you might get an ulcer. Or develop alcoholism."

"Might be close to both, to be honest," you muttered.

"Shit, then I'm extra, extra sorry that I put you through all of that, sweetheart." He laid a hand over his heart. "This is my first rodeo selling in a place like this, I didn't realize that everyone was so...territorial."

"Yeah, well. Most of the time I'm not." Lies. You were a liar. "I think the thing that pissed me off more is that I kept leaving notes for you and you kept ignoring them and messing with my shit."

Eddie looked bashful all of a sudden. "Oh shit. See I thought you were just flirting with me."

Talk about a record-scratch moment; what...what had he just said?

"Flirting?" you asked.

"I mean, yeah, not to sound cocky either because I was definitely flirting right back at you. What do they call it in the movies? A...meet cute moment? I thought it was fun. You leave me a sarcastic, threatening note, and I leave you a little treasure hunt to solve. Like a...fucked up version of You've Got Mail."

"That's nothing like You've Got Mail," you pointed out.

There was a beat.

"I think this is a really good time to mention that I fell asleep halfway through You've Got Mail," he explained with a laugh. "Regardless, I read things wrong. That's on me. But I'm sorry. I'll never do it again."

He held his hand out to you and his brows shifted upwards and behind his dated bangs.

You worried at your bottom lip for a moment and tried to claw at the vestiges of your anger for a second, but this guy...he looked like such a kicked puppy...and you suppose that it was a cute way to flirt with someone you'd never met.

God, you really needed to work on that pushover thing.

"It's alright," you told him as you slid your hand into his and accepted his apology. "As long as you don't do it again."

"Cross my heart," he nodded enthusiastically.

You introduced yourself, formally, and offered your help in the future if he needed it. He introduced himself and told you that he would appreciate any pointers that you had to give.

"I'm pretty new to this whole...thrift thing," he shrugged. "I've had a bunch of this stuff in storage for a while. I used to move around a lot, you accumulate a lot of junk. And then my uncle...some of this stuff is his. Was his. He passed away last year. Finally decided I couldn't keep hoarding it all anymore. Turns out, I had a lot more shit than I thought I did."

"Story of my life," you laughed and offered your condolences. "It's hard, deciding what to keep and what to get rid of."

"Tell me about it."

"But, I do have one main lesson for you," you offered.

"Oh yeah?" he smirked. "Already? Just when I thought I couldn't fuck it up any more."

"It's an Antique Market," you told him. "Not a Thrift Store."

"There's a difference?" Eddie asked sarcastically, although a blush bloomed on his cheeks. "Guess the learning curve is much steeper than I thought."

"It's alright. You'll get it sooner or later." You smiled at him, trying to be as friendly and supportive as you could.

He stared at you for maybe a few seconds too long, then shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked forwards on his heels.

"Maybe you could explain it to me, in-depth?" he questioned. "Antiquing, thrifting, whatever."

"Of course," you agreed, but he cut you off before you could say anything else.

"Over lunch?" He asked with a nervous smile. "There's a great diner up the road. And I figure I owe you one for all the anguish I put you through anyway."

You stared at him in shock for a second, wondering how to respond. First there was the comment about the flirting...and now this. What if he was a creep? But he didn't seem like as much of a jackass as you thought he was...and he was cute.

Oh, what the hell.

"You know what? Why not? I'm a girl who loves a free patty melt," you winked at him bravely. "It's a date!"

#eddie munson x reader #betty <3 #eddie munson #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #stranger things #meet cute #eddie munson fluff

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wcnderlnds · 2 days ago

Text

scared of loving you | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: spending valentines day with your best friend/roommate is the norm but this year ends a little differently ・❥・word count: 1.2k ・❥・warnings: alcohol mention but that's about it ・❥・ authors note: happy valentine's day!! here's some tooth rotting fluff to celebrate <3

Valentine’s Day always seemed to come around so fast. People always seemed so excited for it, always on the search to find someone to spend it with. It was nice in a way that it spurred people to put in the effort but it had never been a day you looked forward to. It wasn’t that you didn’t like – you did but after one bad Valentine’s as a teenager, you never really cared. It was just like any other normal day. One that you would spend at home sat in front of the TV eating as many snacks as you could get your hands on.

Love was great, amazing even but you had never experienced it properly. It was like you had closed yourself off from it which was ridiculous because you loved love. Or what you knew of it anyway. People told you it could be one of the best and worst things you could ever experience. Having someone that cared for you no matter what? Amazing but putting all your trust in them only to have them break your heart? Not so great. Maybe it was best you hadn’t experienced it because then that way you didn’t have to get hurt.

The sound of the TV echoed through the walls of the apartment, your feet tucked underneath you as you rested on the couch, some cheesy Hallmark movie playing. If anyone asked, you’d say you liked to laugh at them but the reality was you always seemed to get invested in them. The stories they told (albeit some of the corniest to exist) were cute. Never in a million years would they happen to anyone but it was nice to dream.

Popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth, a loud yawn was heard from the doorway which could only mean one thing. Seunghyun – your roommate and best friend of the last ten years – had finally woke up. Yesterday had been a busy press day for him so he’d spent most of the day sleeping. You knew better than to wake up a sleeping Seunghyun so you left him to it. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him padding into the room, throwing himself down on the couch next to you.

“Not got a hot date today?” He asked, reaching over to steal some popcorn from the bowl you were cradling. You slapped his hand away much to his dismay.

“You ask me that every year and my answer is always no. You know I never do anything today,” you shrugged, watching as he made a move again to grab some popcorn. Giving in, you placed the bowl on the small coffee table in front of you.

“Yeah, and? One day you are going to have a hot date and I’ll be all alone.”

“You go find a hot date.”

“Why do I need to when I’ve got a pyjama princess right here?” He teased, raising his brows at you as he finally popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

It was hard to stop the blush creeping on to your face. Seunghyun always did this. Through the whole time you’d known him, he always flirted with resulting in you blushing each and every time. He was the only person who could ever manage that feat, something he knew and used to his advantage. Your eyes looked down at the pyjama’s you were wearing, shrugging your shoulders. He was the only person you would ever feel comfortable wearing them around. With Seunghyun, you had no worries. There was no fear of him judging you, it was nice to feel like you could be completely yourself. He allowed you the safe space you had always wanted. It was one of the many reasons he was your favourite person to be around. It was also a massive bonus that he was extremely handsome. Maybe even the most handsome person you’d laid eyes on. You had told him so one night when you were drunk and he’d never let you live it down.

“Wanna order pizza and watch these stupid movies with me?” You asked, smiling over at him. You might not have had a date but you had your best friend. That was all you needed.

“Guess I can suffer through these stupid movies for you.”

It was a few hours later, half eaten pizza on the coffee table, an empty bottle of wine on the floor as the two of you sat laughing watching yet another cheesy movie. The wine in the glass you were holding almost spilled out over the edge onto the carpet but you didn’t care. You were having too much of a good time. Seunghyun was sat right beside you, your head on his shoulder as you lazily grinned at the TV screen. His arm was around your shoulder, his fingers twirling a piece of your hair around his finger. It was the first time in a long time you felt content, curled up beside your best friend.

But, he was more than just a best friend, wasn’t he?

There had always been a hint of something more, something deeper between you and Seunghyun. There was a reason that for the last ten years the two of you had spent Valentine’s Day together, why you’d much rather be lazing around with him than going out and actually finding someone. There was a reason he made you laugh harder than anyone else, why your stomach would always do flips when he smiled at you.

It was a terrifying realisation. Was this actually what being in love felt like? If it was, you weren’t sure if you ever wanted it to stop. The feeling of contentment, of feeling so... cared for and appreciated – it was everything.

Seunghyun’s cheek rested on the top of your head, the domesticity of the moment making your heart pound. As if sensing you were lost in your thoughts, he decided to speak up, his voice softer than normal. “What’s going on in that head of yours, princess?”

The silly little nickname he often gave you made you feel dizzy, the corners of your mouth twitching up into a silly little smile. Your free hand rested on his thigh, the contact sending Seunghyun into a frenzy much to your obliviousness. “Thinkin’ about how I think I might be in love for the first time.”

“Oh yeah?” He lifted his head up to look at you, taking your glass and placing it on the table. “Who’s the lucky person?”

You could hear the hope in his voice, the way his fingers gently brushed against your cheek now. You met his dark eyes, the gentleness of your voice almost taking him back. “I think you already know.”

There was no hesitation as his hand rested on the back of your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours in a kiss. All the hidden feelings finally getting their release. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you as his hand tangled in your hair. It had started off slow, gentle but soon turned passionate. Your head cloudy as the feeling of his lips moved against yours in perfect harmony. It was very reluctantly that he pulled away, his breath heavy as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he breathed, barely giving you a chance to reply before his lips were back on yours.

Maybe Valentines Day wasn’t so bad after all.

taglist: @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @justsisse @sherrayyyyy @come-as-you-are-111 @maskedcrawford

#choi seunghyun x reader #t.o.p x reader #choi seunghyun #bigbang x reader #top x reader #my fics

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avaredava · 2 days ago

Note

Hey!!! So I was wondering if you’d be down to write Megumi smut for valentines or one of those posts with multiple characters (please include my man I would literally beg 🙏🙏🙏🙏) of doing lovey dovey things before absolutely DESTROYING y/n’s insides once the clock hits freak o clock

PUH-LEASE and thank you! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 LOVE YOUR WRITING POOKS 🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥

MERCI my love, I shall gift you your request 😖

୨୧・・・・୨୧

MDNI

Master list's

Not proof read

⯌ Sum

Megumi on valentines day (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

⯌ Wc

1.1k

⯌Warnings

Oral (m! receiving), mating press, really sweet megumi, kinda a sappy one, Light Dom/Sub dynamics, Mentions of bodily fluids, cream pies, rough sex, some people might have heard it (thin walls), moaning + whimpering, intense thrusting, raw sex (wrap before you tap ya'll), sensitivity, cleaning up, cuddling, head massages, little bit of a breeding kink, Size Kink

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Megumi has never been romantic. But when he saw you pouting scrolling on Instagram looking at couples and flowers and shit like that. For some reason that made something light within him.

It made him slightly jealous, you looking at other men maybe wishing it was him. Yeah fuck, he has to change that. He quickly goes to the mall hoping Nobara wouldn't see him that would be fucking embarrassing.

He ran into a flower shop with a black hoodie on with the hood up and hands in pockets trying to get this over with. But then he saw the most gorgeous lively roses ever.

They were perfect just like you.

But they weren't special. So he went to a dollar store and grabbed some art supplies. He realized how down he is for a girl but then again, you aren't just some girl.

That's how he ended up sitting at his desk in his dorm with his tongue poking out more concentrated then ever making some flowers that you can always keep and they will never die and they are made by him.

Gojo walks in and he jumps out of concentration and burns himself with the hot glue gun. And he hissed and glared at Gojo. "I'm a little busy here."

"Aw, are you making stuff for your little girlfriend? You both are the cutest sorcerers! My little babies are getting so much older!" He wiped his dry cheeks like he was crying. God this man was annoying.

"Take her to the fancy Italian place she loves it! And take this." Gojo gives his black card to him and skips off. He rolls his eyes but he does remember you talking about that place.

He finished the flowers with different coloured and shaped paper made flowers, and pipe cleaners as stems. He tied them together with some pink string making a bow with the flowers in between.

He walks to your dorm and opens the door to sleeping on the ground. He lets out a smile and a huff. He shakes you awake with a kiss and kisses your forehead.

You wake up and get up and take the flowers. "Aw 'Gumi..." You kiss his face and he scowls. His heart was fluttering his cheeks with a pink haze, he did actually really like it so he didn't pull away.

"Okay that's enough." He mumbles with a grumpy look on his face but he kisses your head anyway.

"I love them they must've took so long..." He gently smiles and nods. "Why wouldn't I?" You smile then you like out a small gasp of excitement.

You grab a white hoodie with red lipstick kisses in sections on it and give it to him. "I love it baby." He does that small smile of his that makes your heart flutter.

He takes off his original sweater he had on without a shirt under showing his abs. You stop him from putting the new sweater on. You brush across his happy tail pulling at his sweats dropping to your knees.

His cheeks go that pretty red as you take his pale pinkish cock out. You kiss the tip and his hips jolt. He lets out a breathy moan that makes your thighs clench.

You both of your dorms are on either side of Yuji's and one bad thing is that Yuji is in it right now. You grab his thigh trying to make him more quiet. But god you love his noises.

You bob your head along his cock, he falls against the bed behind him laying flat with his eyes fully shut with you still sucking.

He's letting out harsh pants trying to get quieter but it just made the tension hotter. Him sexier. You sucked harder like trying to make the most purple hickey making him let out the sweetest moan and cum.

"Fuck- I love you, felt so good." He babbled. It felt good that he was in the position you're usually in. You crawl up beside him and tuck his sweaty head in your stomach caressing his hair.

His eyes are heavy, and of course they shut instantly after him falling asleep. His face is gentle and not scrunched up like normal. It's calm and cute.

You realized he was kinda loud and you chuckled softly. You know Yuji's gonna be a pain later. He's not the kinda neighbour that complains when it's loud sex. More make fun.

He eventually waked him and snuggled closer, completely oblivious to the fact he's being fucking adorable and not tough and stubborn.

After getting him cleaned up you both went to that Italian place with Gojo's card of course.

The whole time you both were eating he thought about how you made him seem pathetic and how he is gonna get you fucking bad.

Ruin every single part of you till everyone around the dorms knows you're getting dicked down.

That's how you ended up with your legs on his shoulders with your knees pushing against your tits and your hands rubbing his back. You would never scratch at his back his skin's too sensitive.

You love him too much for that.

But your hands on his skin is enough to getting him thrusting fast. His hips snapping at a frightening, fast pace. He pushes you into a tighter mating press his tip massaging your sweet spots making you whimper so sweetly for him.

His breath is hot against your neck as he pants making you holler more and tighten around his dick. "F-Fuck your tight!" He gasps into your ear.

Your throat is raw from moaning and screaming. Now you're just letting out little gasps and whining. "You're so deep." You muster up to say in a quiet voice.

Since Megumi's hitting it raw and of course he has manners he mumbles. "Let me cum inside please Y/N." With that tone how could you say no? You nod.

He cums inside warming your walls you squeeze around his cock cumming with him for the nth time tonight. But his dick was getting to sensitive and your joints were starting to hurt so he pulled out.

Cum drizzles out of your hole making him massage your thighs feeling slightly bad for wearing you out. But then again that was the objective.

He kissed your forehead while wiping your pussy with a warm cloth making sure you're clean. He pulled the blankets up holding you close. He massages your head whispering,

"Happy valentines day."

#jjk x reader #jjk drabble #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x you #megumi fluff #megumi x y/n #jjk fushiguro #jjk megumi

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reality-itself-but-magic · 1 day ago

Text

Lost in a land not your own, with your memories of the past torn and smudged like paper left out in a storm, you clung to whatever memories you could salvage. When you woke up, you had three things: A brittle, broken sword, a map with a destination circled, and a simple written apology. You were found in the temple of one of the newer gods, one of those which hadn’t quite learnt to control their powers. There were reports of them making storms in deserts, warping life by accident, all sorts of bizarre occurrences. Bizarre almost like taking a stranger from their home and dropping them somewhere else.

But gods did as gods were, and seething over the mistakes of a child would not do any good to you. You set out to get to the circled destination, determined to find your way back home. Home to where there would be people waiting for you - maybe even people who worried after you.

You set sail with a company of honest folk, merchants and farmers looking to sell their wares across the seas. You didn’t want to trouble any of them, taking up instead a quite corner, where it was just you and the rocking waves.

You took out the sword you had landed with. It was broken, brittle, bad craftsmanship. You couldn’t remember where you learnt to tell how well made a sword was. Running your hands over the dull edge, you startled as you heard a voice from behind you.

“That looks awfully worn.” A stranger commented. “Want me to fix that up for you?”

You took them up on the offer, once they told you they used to be a blacksmith. Crows feet lined their eyes, but warmth still shone in them. They told you much more, as you spent the whole evening with them while they worked, partially to keep an eye on the sword, and partially because you yearned for conversation, a sympathetic other. When they were done, they handed you the sword, no longer as marred and battle-worn, but still without many virtues to extoll. Your hands closed around the leather of the hilt, and with a flash you knew something with certainty. You had loved this blade, once. This was a blade you knew as kindly as yourself. The blacksmith might have seen some of that, because they left you be for the evening, departing with an address and a firm order to drop by if you were ever near.

By the time the voyage over sea had ended, your spirits had grown low, and the map had faded for him many times you had unrolled it, pored over it, imagined yourself home with it. The next leg of your journey, you went to meet a woman who led travelers on trips to the mountain villages, whom the blacksmith had recommended you speak to.

She was kind, a bit sharp while she bargained, but kind, inviting you to stay in her house for the night, as the trip on horseback began the next day. As you followed her along hallways with framed portraits, floors dotted with children’s toys, you felt a sort of yearning, a nostalgia for a place you’d never been. The warm, lived-in home she kept was painfully familiar to you, but terribly out of reach.

By the next day, when lunchtime rolled around, the unpolished nature of your sword was irritating you. You picked up a round enough stone, with an expert eye, and spent your spare time polishing the blade. You remember… something. There is a great weight to this sword.

By the time she guides you to the village, your memories are lacing together. Your recollections multiply, you know this path, this stone, this plant. You know this place where you learnt the trade of forging, this place which is your home.

You break into a dead sprint as your heart pounds in you ears. The guide is left behind but somehow, you don’t think she’ll mind. Up ahead, tending to the garden, is a beautiful woman half-wearing armor, interrogating someone nearby. As she sees you, her face lights up.

“So you are here! Everyone seems awfully worried about you, and I was gone far longer than I meant to be, the bounty hunters guild is being stingy as always-” She was cut off by you barreling into her, hugging her as if you could merge into her so you would never be separated again. You step back, drawing the sword.

“I believe this is yours?” You ask, memories almost all reformed. You remember her - your beautiful, amazing wife, for whom you had forged this sword with your two hands, who probably didn’t even know you were missing if she was just now able to return from her adventuring - and you swear you’ll never forget her again.

@otherwindow I made it unsad ^^

A Dark Souls-like game where the lore for a weapon gets less vague the more you upgrade it. Broken Blade: A brittle sword. You can’t seem to let it go. Unpolished Blade: A cherished weapon from ages past. Polished Blade: You remember something. Bride’s Blade: Your wife’s sword.

#Reality writes #writing #creative writing #second person pov #blacksmith and their adventurer wife

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arafilez · 2 days ago

Text

CHAPTER: LOVE ㅤㅤㅤ☆ ㅤ — ﹙ BND ﹚

WHERE boynextdoor ㅤ,ㅤ are love tropes !

ㅤㅤㅤ ᶻzㅤ( ot6 x reader ) 𓂃 ㅤ drabbles ㅤ valentines 2k25ㅤ warnings food (sungho) , peck (jaehyun) ㅤ⋆ ㅤ( 500 / mem ) ㅤ ❟❟ㅤ library ㅤ bnd shelfㅤ navi

PARK SUNGHO

trope: exes to lovers now playing: new year’s day

You couldn’t even blame Sungho for ruining Valentine’s for you forever. Back when you were together you would get so spoiled by him that it isn’t even funny now. You knew it was the truth when you came to the realisation nobody could treat the way Sungho used to do.

But what’s done is done. You two broke up, he is your ex now and there’s nothing you can do about it. You walk towards your café to order a croissant because that is the least you can do to treat yourself on Valentine’s Day. You pity yourself a little but that regret soon fades away as you smell the baked goods from outside the shop.

Snippets of memory flow over your head as you two would fight for the last bite of the chocolate donut and he would purposely hold it out of your reach. He once whined so bad saying you cheated as you had kissed him and snatched the donut, giggling all the way.

You shake your head not wanting to be reminded of it as you swing the door to walk inside. So when you lightly bump into a guy with the exact build as Sungho you had to think the universe was playing cruel tricks on you. You hesitantly look up and immediately regret it as you see the familiar face stare back at you.

“Y/n,” he gasps as a light smile spreads across his face and you curse yourself for wanting to kiss it off him. “Sungho,” you try to make your voice as enthusiastic as possible as you continue, “Long time no see.” That was a lie, you had seen him around the corner just a few days ago.

“Yeah, how are you?” he asks, again a lie, you both know because he follows you in Instagram. “Good,” you reply quietly as he nods, looking down at your hands once before bidding you goodbye.

You have walked two steps ahead when you suddenly turn back and call, “Sungho.”

“Yeah,” he replies almost instantly making your heart beat a little faster in your chest. “Do you want to call tonight?” you ask suddenly. You have no idea where this sudden bravery came from but you are glad and scared at the same time now that it did.

Sungho inhales lightly as a small smile spreads on his face as he nods and replies, “Yeah sure.” You don’t know what the future holds and neither does he does but maybe this was a little ray of hope.

LEE SANGHYEOK

trope: sunshine x grumpy now playing: midnight rain

You sign in annoyance when Riwoo picks up the controller again and you snatch it out of his hand, yanking open the cable from the plug point and look at him. He smiles brightly when he sees your grimacing face and jokes, “Come on grumpy don’t glare at me like that.”

“It is Valentine’s Day, don’t you have anything better to do than play LoL?” He pouts and you roll your eyes at him. Everyone in your brother’s friend circle knows how much straightforward you are. Jaehyun has tried to set you up with Riwoo because according to him you are in desperate need of some “sunshine” in your life.

“I am spending the day with you, aren’t I?” Riwoo winks and you gasp at his answer. He walks off to Jaehyun’s room and you exhale, hating for even being born. The way his words has set your whole face on fire should be researched. Hell Riwoo can graze his hands casually and you will be firing up for no reason. You open your phone is frustration and scroll until you find a fluff fanfiction you feel like reading.

The reader kisses the person’s nose. Cringe. You will definitely read it.

And do it to Riwoo, your mind screams and you want nothing more than to punch your mind. You keep reading trying to focus on the story and not think how it is so fitting with Riwoo.

“For someone who is always scowling you like reading stuff that make normal people giggle,” a voice interrupted your reading and you jump as Riwoo slides besides you, still grinning. You hate yourself for how your eyes instantly dropped to his nose.

Stop it.

You force yourself to look into his eyes and it doesn’t help a lot since they look like a whole galaxy of stars. How can someone’s eyes hold so much adoration and spark?

“Why are you looking at my nose weirdly?” he chuckles and the answer rolls off your lips before you can stop yourself, “If I was yours I would just spend the day kissing it.”

Your eyes widen and you want the ground to swallow you whole while Riwoo loud laugh fills the room. You look at him and the way his nose scrunches, soft hair falling on his lashes as he continues laughing and asks, “Is that a line from the thing you were reading?”

“No, stop it,” you whine and your ears, heck, your whole body feel on fire as you look at Riwoo who is smiling and looking at you. “You say that but you look at me like this,” you pout and it takes all of his strength to not press his lips to yours right then and there.

“Like what?” he asks and you glare half-heartedly but he continues, “If you mean like I am head over heels for you, then yes, I do look at you like that.”

Your breath gets stuck at your throat and you don’t trust your voice too much but you blabber out, “Don’t ask me out on Valentine’s, that’s cliché as hell.”

“I can do all kinds of cliché things for you though,” Riwoo’s smiles brighten and you wish for nothing more actually.

MYUNG JAEHYUN

trope: brother’s best friend now playing: stupid in love

The only way you can describe Myung Jaehyun is BF! Big Flirt! Even your brother who is his best friend got a taste of his flirt when he tried to take a lollipop from his mouth.

So when the door of your house swings open and Jaehyun enters the house where you are alone you know you are doomed. Mostly because of your very obvious crush on him. “Y/n,” he says and you nod somehow saying, “Jaehyun.”

“Where’s Sungho?” he casually places the question as you look at him and reply, “Missing your babygirl on Valentine’s Day?” You don’t hide your sarcastic tone but Jaehyun is faster as he replies, “Why? You jealous?”

You scoff thrice at the sentence and then laugh awkwardly as you look away cursing yourself at the awkward reaction. You quietly move around stuff in the kitchen doing nothing actually. The perfume he has worn is too addicting for your own good and you question how you can even smell it when he is literally on the other side of the room.

You turn around and yelp as you see Jaehyun standing in front of you with a tiny smirk on his face. “What are you doing?” you ask nervously as you realise how close he is. He is not close enough to be in your personal space but he is definitely close enough to make your breath stop.

Your back hits the kitchen counter comically even though he didn’t take a single step ahead baffling your mind. Jaehyun sees the chance and walks towards you trapping you into his arms as you frantically look anywhere other than his eyes.

“Look at me,” you hear his soft voice making you sigh because you definitely cannot look at him. “You know you are very obvious,” he giggles making you let out a small noise of desperation as you pout looking at him. “Fine, congratulations you caught me,” you sigh throwing your head back and making him smile as he finds you adorable.

“I am very obvious too but you are too oblivious to notice,” if one sentence can drive you crazy it was this one that just left Jaehyun’s mouth as you look back at him and he shrugs. You feel speechless because never in your entire life did you expect him to fall for you. But before you can reply he pecks you lightly making you trip on air as he giggles and says, “So how long should this be a secret from Sungho?”

HAN DONGMIN

trope: enemies to lovers now playing: title

Taesan had to be the bane of your existence because why else would the universe send you such a person who has to test your patience in every single step. So when he asks for your help in a subject you don’t trust him at all.

But now that you are actually sitting in the library you think you are wrong. You move uncomfortably in your seat as he quietly does the question and you can’t help but blurt out, “Why are you so quiet?”

“Aww you already miss my voice?” he cocks his head sideways making you take a deep breath so you don’t murder him right then and there. “You wish,” you grit out as he lets out a menacing laugh leaning over the table saying, “Sweetheart I wish for a lot of things.”

“Eww,” you place a hand in between your faces as he sits back on his seat smirking. You find yourself scolding your mind for liking that smirk and finding it actually hot. You blame your poor hormones for it as you sit back and stare at him.

“You know you can take a picture,” you gasp as he looks up directly at you, cheeks tinging with warmth as you cough and look away. “But I would need your picture more, considering how out of the world you look,” you head spins at a comical rate when the sentence leaves his mouth.

His mouth is also agape clearly surprised even he said that as he blinks looking at you. “What did you just say Han Dongmin?” you reply as he chuckles nervously scratching the back of his neck not knowing what to do next. Should he just casually deny it? He can do that, tell he has some brain disease or something.

He looks up at your wide eyes as he feels himself getting lost into them and as cliché as it sounds he feels lost in your eyes. He blinks again bringing himself to reality again as he sees you smiling.

You purse your lips and say, “How about I actually give you a signed photograph since you like to look at me so much?” your heart might have fallen out of the ribcage as you said it but Taesan giggles shyly looing down.

He looks up and replies, “How about I take you out and we take pictures together so I can look at you whenever I want?” You grin nodding lightly. That is the true Han Dongmin behaviour, never backing down from a challenge. But this time maybe you both are winning.

KIM DONGHYUN

trope: she fell first, he fell harder now playing: take a chance with me

To say losers and nerds were your type would be an understatement because you would die for Leehan’s smile. That quiet, shy smile as his eyes turn into crescent moons under his glasses. Once he opened his glasses in class and you almost fell in love after looking for a fraction of a second. You are not too proud of this but what he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him.

Except he does know very well because you already asked him out once! He had replied that he just wanted to stay friends and he is not into relationships right now. Easy right? Should fix everything. Except it didn’t.

Your friends have caught him stare at you for one too many times and the underlying tension has remained even though you talked and he has tried to open up in his own nerdy ways expressing his love for fish. It only made it worse, and make you fall harder for him day by day.

So when Valentine’s Week came you had a tiny ray of hope in your heart that maybe, just maybe, he would do something. But as the days went by your hope started to decrease and it came down to a solid negative on Valentine’s Day itself. As usual Donghyun came and sat in the row behind you but you hardly pay attention as you started taking notes.

You make through the classes somehow but before you can leave, Leehan calls out your name, surprising you. He is so shy that he has never called your name out aloud before ever. You slowly look back making sure you weren’t hearing things as he says quietly, “Can we talk?”

You nod slowly indicating your friends to go ahead with your hands as you stand quietly in your place. You think he will probably just ask you about the upcoming project and you feel crazy to think he will ask you out even as an option. Leehan quietly stands up as he says, “Sorry for making you wait.

“Oh no it is totally fine,” you say it a little faster than you want to, mentally slapping yourself. Talk about desperation! Donghyun coughs lightly as he says, “You know you can sit right.”

The whole interaction is so awkward that you plop down on the chair as he smiles and says, “Uhm I am asking you out.” “What?” you reply visibly confused because what the hell was that? Leehan trips over his words as he says, “No, what I mean is, I want to ask you out, it is just that I regret it a hell lot when I said no to you because you are so perfect and nice and I think today is perfect but if you want to stay friends that is super fine with me-“

“Donghyun please breathe,” you reply widening your eyes as you hold his shoulder and look at him. “So?” he asks hopefully as you shrug a little giggling. You look down and smile feeling super shy as you nod and look up saying, “Yes, let’s do this” Leehan swears he has never been happier before and that was crazy because how did you become such a big part of his life when even a few months ago you weren’t.

Maybe that was a mystery he can’t solve but he is glad he got it.

KIM WOONHAK

trope: best friends to lovers now playing: what a man gotta do

Woonhak has been sending you gift hampers on Valentine’s since he has got the part-time job three years back. He has never actually asked you out but the heart shaped chocolates, teddy, ring and a packet of Hershey’s kisses on every Valentine’s don’t lie.

You both have always tagged this as ‘best-friend’ behaviour, too afraid to date each other wondering what will happen in case you break up. It felt pathetic to watch as a third person because you both were so in love with each other.

So when you receive the hamper again this year your friends couldn’t help but roll their eyes at you. The way you two act oblivious makes them want to kill themselves. Because everyone except you two everyone could see how much you were in love with each other. You giggle at the packets as your friends let out tired sighs.

Whenever Woonhak is around you smile, feel like a thousand fireworks going off when he smiles, do pathetic things like singing love songs in the shower and dance in front of the mirror. Your mood instantly lights up whenever his messages come and even if he calls you at two in the night you would pick up without a question.

So one of your friends took matters in her own hands as she texted him saying that it is very obvious and it is a mental torture to watch your push and pull. So Woonhak should just ask you out.

Woonhak ran towards your residence as soon as he saw the message and sees you sitting in the porch in front. He smiles a little as he runs lightly and messes up your hair. “Hey,” you slap his hand away, a bit surprised at seeing him as you ask, “What are you doing here?”

“A friend of yours said you like me so much that you make them suffer making them listen about me,” your eyes widen as soon as the sentence leaves your mouth and you stand up ready to go and kill whichever of your friends did it. Woonhak, always predicting your next actions, holds you by your shoulder and makes you sit down.

“If we like each other, why can’t we be together?” he asks and you sigh saying, “Woonhak you know why, I just don’t want to lose you.” “How are you so sure we will break up?” he asks and you look up at him. Suddenly you realise you are seeing the guy you have grown up with and have been in love with since you knew what love meant. Maybe your fears were just overpowering your thoughts. So maybe you can give this a chance.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask warily and he shrugs replying, “Let’s just go on a date and find out.”

ARA'S NOTES ㅤ,ㅤ such a top of the head draft but i really hope y'all will like this, i am trying to come back to writing slowly !

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