#puzzle pieces that will all click together eventually

[muzzlemouths]

I was doing some re reading and I was curious does dmd Suns “terms of endearment” reflect how he at that moment views/feels about yn?

Like mouse when y/n is sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong and are potential prey to moon, peach when y/n is being sweet/soft for more wholesome fun moments, and doll when sun is seeing y/n as acting/reliving the malls glory days with pretend shopping.

YEAH YOU'VE GOT IT

The first name Sun gives y/n is "Little Mouse", a term that isn't normally used with customers, but y/n isn't a customer — despite Sun's initial instance otherwise — they're an intruder.

The second time it's used is directly before Sun leaves y/n in the candy shop. This is foreshadowing what happens next, and implying that Sun already suspected that y/n would turn around and go snooping again.

With that last sentence in mind, I'll let you take a guess as to what the last instance of him using that name means.

Peach is his go-to, as is anything floral, and Doll is his programmed script resurfacing - that is, it's the name he used with customers most often while the mall was still alive, and using it with y/n is a form of coping with the loss as much as it is a guilty pleasure.

Now, that meaning changes when Moon says it. The first (and only) time it's used is with a condescending tone and malicious intent. Moon doesn't want to relive the glory days. Here, he's mocking the script he was programmed with and making his message crystal clear; you are not safe with me.

[ruvviks]

alana and andrew are the ones who hire cassidy for the job described in this fic <3 far from where the whole story starts but that's where everything starts falling into place

[starsofang]

simon riley x autistic!reader requested by anon! <3 tw: none!

When a certain John Price had recruited you under his own jurisdiction, you were cautious yet excited to be joining a new task force. It was an opportunity you simply couldn’t pass up, and you’d be insane to say no. Price had promised you would fill in the gap that seemed to be missing from their team, and for the most part, he was absolutely correct.

Gaz and Johnny were the most welcoming in the beginning. Price was more the serious type with an occasional bad joke here and then, but all in all, everybody approved of you and had your back so long as you had theirs.

None of them seemed to mind when you’d have days where you’d be talkative on one, and quiet the next. They’d listen to your passionate ramblings on specific topics, or they’d allow you to sit in comfortable silence if they knew you needed it.

There was one person in particular who didn’t seem quite fond of you, and that would be Ghost – or Simon, as Johnny called him on occasion. It wasn’t that he didn’t seem to like you, no. He just seemed distant, purposefully keeping you at an arm’s length and only acknowledging you when necessary.

Johnny had told you not to worry about it, that he’d come around eventually. Simon was impartial to new people and it took him a while to open up.

You did notice, though, that Simon was someone who stared. One too many times, you’d catch those brooding eyes boring into you, as if trying to puzzle you together and figure out where the pieces fit. It would always cause a bit of anxiety to well in you when you’d find his eyes across the room, already locked in on you, and you would find yourself avoiding his stare as soon as you felt it.

It wasn’t until a particular mission had gone bad that you completely shut down. In the presence of your new task force, you had successfully masked yourself as much as possible. But now, when Johnny had nearly been killed, all due to an error in your own judgment, that mask was slipping off and you needed time to let it crumble on your own.

You thought that was all you needed – time. But time proved fruitless as you spent the next few days on lockdown, avoiding all conversation and interaction. Your eyes would stray to the ground, or you’d find yourself staring blankly at the walls of the mess hall with your nails picking at the skin around them from beneath the table.

You didn’t think anybody noticed. After all, everybody was on edge and decompressing from the failed mission, and they didn’t have the focus to see your mind eating you up.

Simon did, though.

He’d seen all the signs, from the way you picked at your nails, to the way you’d consistently tuck your hair behind your ear, even if it was already tucked, and to the way you’d tap your foot along the ground in a repetitive motion, leg bouncing wildly underneath the table during breakfast or debriefs.

At first, none of it made sense to him. He thought it was simple signs of anxiety, and for that, he truly thought that if one bad massion made you close up this much, you wouldn’t last long enough to see a second one. But when he returned to his quarters and searched up all of your stims that he’d taken mental notes of over the course of the week, things clicked.

He didn’t know much about autism. To his embarrassment, you were the first person with autism that he’d actively been around on a daily basis. Everything he’d seen made complete sense, and that last puzzle piece he was trying so hard to fit seemed to fall right into place.

Simon took it upon himself to educate himself. He, too, had his own struggles that not many people had an understanding of, and now that he knew what made sense, he didn’t want you to continue hiding yourself away for the sake of the rest of the team.

It started off small.

When Simon would notice you picking at your fingernails, he’d place a large hand over yours to stop you without sparing a glance in your direction. If he wasn’t there to stop you, he’d silently wrap your fingers up in cute bandages he purchased himself, because he noticed you liked them more than the typical brown ones.

If he noticed you zone out and lose a piece of yourself, where your eyes would find the walls and focus in on them as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, he’d gently grab your shoulder with means to snap you out of it and remind you that he was there with you.

At first, you were surprised when Simon began showing you these subtle signs of companionship. He hadn’t shown any interest in you up until this point, but as time went on, you found yourself actively seeking out that safe space that Simon was slowly building for you.

You crawled your way out of that hole you found yourself in and began returning to normalcy; except now, you didn’t feel you had to mask all the time.

When you returned to your rambling moments, your hand would subconsciously find its way to Simon’s, grasping and fiddling with his fingers while you spoke. He’d never pull his hand away, and instead, he’d sit there quietly with his full attention on you, eyes soft and affectionate from beneath his mask.

Often times, when he’d head to the mess hall to grab a snack or a drink for himself, he began to bring you something back as well – cookies, chips, you name it. If he knew you liked it, he’d snag a couple of whatever it was and place it in front of you without a word (and would absolutely ignore Johnny’s childish whines of how he never did that for him).

This back and forth between the two of you didn’t go unnoticed, and when Gaz nudged Johnny when the three of them sat in the debrief room together, claiming that Simon had a crush, he didn’t blatantly deny it.

Simon wasn’t sure what it was he felt for you. He wanted to see you happy, that he knew for sure, but when Gaz and Johnny continued to feed into their teasing remarks, he was beginning to think that, okay, yeah, maybe he had a bit of a crush.

It took him months to even proclaim this confession to you. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, or god forbid you didn’t feel the same way, didn’t want you to close up on him like you had with others before. Being your safe space was something he took pride in, and for a man who had no knowledge months ago on how to approach you in a way that showed he understood, he didn’t want to ruin that.

That wasn’t at all what happened, though. When he had the gall to tell you, you were practically bursting at the seams. Hands moving wildly, feet causing you to bounce with excitement as you eagerly confessed your own feelings for him. He was scared your lips were crack open from how widely you were smiling and babbling on about your affection.

And when he had the chance to kiss you? He did it with so much tenderness, keeping it as gentle as possible, hands only cupping your cheeks when you told him it was okay.

You had never met someone who was so passionate about you, that they’d learn everything about you. He knew your quirks, your hyperfixations, your interests, your stims. He knew more about you than he did himself at this point.

To have somebody cherish you in such a way that they’d go that far for you, even when they themselves aren’t partial to getting attached to people, it was all Simon ever hoped to make you feel, and it was all you ever wanted to feel understood and accepted.

Simon would happily assure you of that any day.

—

thank u for this idea anon!! i really hope it lived up to your standards, i tried to make it as accurate as possible while trying not to make the stims too specific and detailed since i know many people have different ones and that autism is not linear! <3 please enjoy fluffy simon because he’s my favorite

[satoruxx]

pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1.2k words summary: shoko-centric, as in it’s written from her pov, based on yesterday’s leaks bc i finally have some hope, simple bittersweet angst to fluff !! he’s coming back trust <3

shoko’s eyes are focused as she works, but they can’t help but drift towards you, taking in your expression—half hopeful and half terrified as you watch her hands critically.

your teeth are digging into your bottom lip— worrying the flesh with bites and nips that are sure to eventually draw blood.

she wants to click her tongue and rub your shoulder in the hopes that you’ll stop looking so stressed. but she understands—after all, her hands are occupied with the most important thing in your world.

satoru’s body has begun regenerating on its own—as shoko had expected when he was brought back to her. her body had clicked into autopilot when that blue haired kid handed him off to her, her brain choosing to ignoring the overwhelming sense of relief that washed over her when she saw him pulled away from that death field.

so she could only imagine your feelings in this moment—scared, angry, and yet so hopeful.

because that’s what gojo satoru was to everyone—an embodiment of hope. he had been as such for so many years. she has no doubt that even in death he would be the same.

but despite all that, she wants the blue eyed idiot to wake up already—wants to see his lopsided grin and your relieved face when the two of you look at each other. so all she does is continue to work, because that’s what she’s good at—what she’s always been good at.

working in the shadows.

you don’t say anything to her—you’ve known her long enough not to. shoko thinks back to the thousands of times she’s healed you up after missions, thinks of your sheepish grin when she scolded you for being careless out there. you’ve always been careless about yourself.

she thinks you’ve only ever been truly concerned when satoru was the one who was in trouble.

the two of you were idiots—because while the two of you may not give a shit about your own safety, shoko constantly worried about you both.

so she inhales through her nose, keeping her eyes trained on satoru’s body. “he’ll be fine,” she says, voice steadily echoing around the room. she can feel your eyes on her, feel the studying gaze of them, and oddly enough she relaxes under it.

something so familiar about this all.

she hears you sigh, a nod to her statement, and shoko takes it as a sign of agreement.

it has always been this way with the three of you—too many words unnecessary. at one point in time, it used to be that way among the four of you too.

shoko doesn’t know how much time passes. all she can focus on is the energy flowing from her hands to satoru’s battered body and your rapidly steadying breaths. the silence is not unwelcoming—an odd comfort in the midst of the chaos raging not so far away.

something tilts on its axis when his eyes finally open.

shoko feels like her breath has gone cold, settling low in her chest as she watches him sit up. there’s a brief moment of confusion in his face—eyes hazy as he looks at her. she gives him a pointed stare, not trying to betray her emotions, but the expression is enough for satoru to understand that he wasn’t supposed to be here. the haziness in his eyes clear, and shoko thinks she might be hallucinating because he looks almost apologetic.

and then, his gaze travels past her, to the back corner, and when they land on you shoko can see the puzzle pieces click together. his pupils dilate, lips parting in a sharp inhale as everything finally comes back to him.

you choke back a sob—a sound so pained and shoko almost feels as though it’s cut through her flesh. satoru’s eyes are wild, arms reaching for you before his brain can even catch up. he pulls you against him with reckless abandon, your body folding into his like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

which, shoko understands, it is.

your arms are tight around satoru’s midsection, head buried into his chest—as though if you let him go he’ll slip away all over again. shoko doesn’t blame you—she doesn’t take her eyes off of him for the exact same reason.

satoru’s fingers remain tangled in your hair—a tremor to them that only the most observant eyes can pick up.

your shoulders shake with the effort of holding back a plethora of emotions that shoko both understands and doesn’t. satoru’s hands smooth down your hair, chest heaving as he shuts his eyes and presses his nose to your temple.

it’s an embrace that shoko is almost proud to see—a reunion that she’s grateful to be privy to.

satoru pulls back a little, hands cupping your face as his eyes dart over your features—wild and bright with life.

“‘m sorry—” he’s saying, voice oddly steady for the way his fingertips are trembling against your skin. “i didn’t—i thought—fuck, ‘m so sorry, sweets—”

“you came back.” you’re whispering, voice unsteady and thick with unfiltered longing. you pull him back into a hug. “thank god. you came back.”

satoru’s arms tighten around you imperceptibly. a featherlight kiss dusts your forehead—barely a touch but there all the same.

shoko smothers an amused huff. it’s about time.

your voice is shaking even with your cheek pressed against his chest. “i thought that you—”

satoru nods against your temple. “i did,” he answers, licking at his dry lips. “i mean—”

a sharp inhale. you pull back to study his face. satoru’s voice becomes imperceptibly softer. “i saw…”

shoko doesn’t need to ask what he saw—she knows it automatically. you seem to know it too.

“it’s fine.” he’s shaking his head, lips quirking upward—his thumb brushes over the slope of your cheek with the utmost care. “it doesn’t matter.”

you give him a rueful smile, eyes uncharacteristically dewy, and shoko thanks her lucky stars that the expression seems to bother satoru just as much as it bothers her. she watches him cup your face, leaning his forehead against yours with an oddly somber sigh. your fingers come up to press against his knuckles, and satoru smiles, eyes fluttering at the touch.

shoko sees the color slowly start seeping back into his skin, an all familiar flush dusting his cheeks as he looks down at you, and her shoulders drop—a weight lifting.

she takes a step back.

satoru makes eyes contact with her over your head. there’s something there, deep within cerulean blue, that has shoko’s body finally relaxing. he studies her, eyes wide and open, and for the first time in a long time, she sees the message in them clearly.

his lips curl upward at her, an expression so nostalgic it makes shoko think she can hear the sound of teenage laughter—a gentle voice whispering about the good and bad of their lives. she shuts her eyes—helpless.

satoru watches her expression, somehow understanding, and he smiles to himself. his chin tips down at her, an acknowledgment of sorts, that has her feeling oddly emotional.

shoko shoves her hands in her pockets, and for the first time in a while, she allows herself to smile.

[applejuicebegood]

The Softest of Jason Todd HCs

Fem!Reader A/N: Some of these were originally conceived for the lovely, talented, wonderful @midnightorchids. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FALLOW HER RIGHT NOW

Masterlist

Jason fell for you slowly. It was the kinda falling that took on the form of severe distraction and confusion during his patrol time. The only spot in his second life he had crafted into hours of precise control and expectancy. He hated how, as he was clicking a mag into his handgun, his mind would flash to your smiling, blushed face. He hated how you would unintentionally make him trip and stumble over the roof-tops of Gotham. He hated how recalling the chime of your laugh made his hands sweaty under his leather gloves. He hated how he had to take off his helmet in the seclusion of an abandoned wear-house because recalling how his hand slipped in to your on your last date made his face heat up to the point where he felt like he would pass out.

Once he realised that the nervous pounding in his gut whenever your shoulders brushed was in-fact caused from a growing crush on you, he panicked. The eventual confession was awkward and stumbled, him making it clear that he needed time and room to figure it out. He took your smaller hands into his, promising that no matter what, for now he would figure it out with you at his side. Of course you agreed, squeezing his hands in confirmation.

Ya'll are soulmates, period. Very big 'he is half of my soul' energy. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Your words have already been said by the other before you can string them together in your head. You share in each-others grief and rage. Five years into the relationship, Jason knew you so well (and being raised in a family of detectives) that you would never have to explain your frustration or annoyance - and on days like that he would always be ready to wrap you up in a weighted blanket, forcing a cup of raspberry tea into your cold hands and his headphones over your ears with one of his audiobooks already playing. Carrying you to your shared bed for you to fall asleep leaned up against his chest, his thick arms wrapped tightly around you.

Despite his availability of wealth and status, he keeps your date-night very low-key and personal. On his off days from Red-Hooding, both of you would have cooking nights. Where you would sway and giggle with the slow drift of music coming from the kitchen radio. You would make something hearty and filling. You wanting to see Jason sigh in the comfort of good food. You both would curl up with your steaming bowls on your couch, probably watching Tangled (at your request). It's all extremely cozy, Jason smiling into your skin as gratitude blooms in his chest for you. For having created this safe, hidden expanse of reassurance. All while the harsh Gotham wind whipped just outside your window.

This man is smitten- he worships you entirely. His is in awe of you, even as both of you grow old, his love and his care for you never relents or dwindles.

Ya'll would go to museums and art galleries and he would point at statues and paintings of goddess and queens and say 'you', under his breath. It's so horribly corny but it makes you hold his arm just a bit tighter every time.

After you both moved in together, he developed a habit of making your coffee alongside his and bringing it to you in bed in the mornings. This eventually just became your routine on weekends when you both had enough time to bask in the slow creeping of sunlight over each-others skin.

He's a romantic at heart, a part of him you had to slowly unearth under years of torment and blood. You were the one to force him out of his cave of isolation and into the reality of him deserving softness and joy. It's a dept you have assured him he doesn't need to pay back. That doesn't stop him from trying.

Giggles and smiles like a little boy if you kiss his forehead, specifically at the roots of his white streak. You think it's one of the prettiest things about him.

Unintentional scary dog when you guys are out together. He's got his hand laced with yours or floating somewhere on your hip or lower back. It's mostly due to his anxiety, constantly having his head on a swivel. It's all heightened due to the fact that he has the most precious, important individual standing next to him. Whether it's at one of his Dad's galla's or trips to the local library, he likes to have you near him.

Bitch has multiple playlists made about/for you (a lot of Noah Kahn and TV Girl)

Example:

A/N: I may be gay but I have a very special place for sappy Jason in my heart. Please send in any requests regarding our boy (or any of the bat boys or girls)- I really love writing for the people in this fandom.

[writers-potion]

How to foreshadow? Like a big thing is going to be revelation after few chapters so how can I drop subtle hints about it? Lots of love 💗

Foreshadowing Creatively

If you are trying to build up towards the 'big moment' throughout a few prior chapters,

Let's assume that we want to reveal the the fact that Character A's husband is cheating on her. The big moment here would be when she witnesses them kissing in the parking lot.

To drop subtle hints about it, we could:

Have the husband doing things that are just slightly out of the ordinary, but not enough to attract serious suspicion: taking call outside the bedroom, being more tired after work than usual

Insert direct evidence that Character A could've picked up on, but she doesn't because she thinks it's ridiculous to start having doubts.

Use symbolic motifs. The husband informs her that he lost is wedding ring - a complete accident. But this indicates a 'break' of their marriage vows.

Similarly, you can use color/animal/location that subtly hints at secrecy, infidelity and dishonesty.

It may even be enough to have seemingly unrelated bad things happen to her. Maybe she cuts her finger while prepping dinner for her husband, or suddenly starts feeling that their bed is uncomforatble to sleep in. There's no logical link between these details and the eventual realization, but the mood gets established.

Think about the big moment from two different points of view: someone who knows about it all along, and someone who doesn't. How would it look from an outsider's POV?

I find it helpful to think about howI tried to justify the bad events that has happened to me.

For example, I messed up on a math test. The logical reason for this was that I didn't study enough. But my brain would: - blame it on the weather: it was raining! And I hate rain! - the supervising teacher, Mrs. G, was my least favorite and that had affected my mood. - I always eat an even number of chocolate before tests, but I could only eat 3 that morning because that's all that I had left. - the bus came late

Drive your character's mood slowly towards the revelation. If it's an emotional one, I'd say the atmospheric/symbolic elements would be more important; if it's puzzle pieces finally clicking in place, you could provide a brief overview of how past events are finally put together by your main character at the end.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[tichiox1]

Bill kaulitz☆ headcannons (with nsfw)

Word count:560

Sorry yall i was thirsty and bored

_____________________________

Sfw

☆-When you two met you two instantly clicked like puzzle pieces before you knew it the both of you started to become friends .

☆-Bill started the first conversation (he's chatty ) you were tense and nervous at first i mean why wouldn't you he's Bill Kaulitz!!

☆-The favorite thing you two do together is either shopping or just talking to each other about anything (gossiping).

☆-Bill sometimes ask for your help with writing songs and translating it to english (he wants it to sound good in both!!).

☆-But before you realised it you started to have feelings for Bill , He's always so sweet and nice about everything but he's also a menace .

☆-Bill was the one who confessed , The two of you was just watching Tv and hanging out and he just dropped the bomb and blurted it out .

☆-"I like you" He suddenly said and you were like "Huh" (but of course you accepted but it was very unexpected).

☆-Tom's really happy for Bill ! He sometimes makes jokes that he's not gonna be a virgin anymore infront of everyone which makes Bill flustered.

☆-Bill's public about his relationship with you which makes some fan girls sad and some of them bad mouths you but you don't care (At least you got your mans).

☆-Bill writes songs about you!!

☆-He likes to go on dinner dates with you and watch movies at home after.

☆-He likes cuddling , he doesn't mind if he's the big spoon or little spoon he just wants to hold you.

☆-He makes you wear matching bracelets or rings with him (It's really cute ngl).

☆-Even when you aren't looking you sometimes feel him looking at you and smiling.

☆-Holding hands ✅✅

☆-You sometimes hug him or kiss him before he performs (he gets really nervous).

☆-If you don't like the Paparazzi he'll take off his jacket and cover you with it .

_____________________________

Nsfw

☆-He likes to make out with you after performing .

☆-He's really sweet in bed but also very kinky(Chains , collars , blindfolds , handcuffs , ect) .

☆-He likes to take his time , not that rough but if he's extra sexually frustrated buckle up and get ready.

☆-When he makes out with you there's always tongue if it's heated then expect it.

☆-Whenever you two make out he leaves alot of hickeys like a shit ton of it all over your neck , collarbone , shoulder ect(Mans just kinky like that).

☆-He's a switch don't fight me ,i get that feeling he is , (he radiates that feeling jk).

☆-He likes to grunt , groan if he's really feeling it he'll softly moan .

☆-He likes to eat you out like a full course meal .

☆-When i say he's sweet he really is , when you feel uncomfortable he'll stop immediately and ask you "what's wrong?" "Are you ok?" softly almost a whisper.

☆-Foreplay.

☆-Whenever you two make out he rubs his knee on your crotch .

☆-He wants to make out with you anywhere anytime if you're up for it , against the wall , On the bed while he's on top of you , Just as long as you give him permission it's all good .

☆-He's good with his hands.

☆-If you do want to lead it's fine with him , he doesn't mind .

☆-alot of teasing like alot lot , but he'll feel bad eventually and touches you where you want him too.

_____________________________

Nah bro why did i write this i haven't even held someones hands romantically before what am i doing😦

I was once an innocent gorl just a year ago idk what happened 😭😭

But hope you guys enjoyed and ill write more don't worry (i was also bored when i wrote this so )

[ahhnini]

midas touch - rafe cameron x fashionista!reader

synopsis - based off this ask!

moodboard ⋆·˚ ༘ *

word count - 1.4k

warnings - oblivious!reader, bestfriend!rafe, flirting (from rafe), alcohol consumption, fluff, slow burn, not proofread!

a/n - i diverged a little from the request, but i hope you still enjoy! <3

you snap a mirror pic of your outfit for the day, putting up a caption, then uploading it to your instagram story. you fix any wrinkles from your outfit before heading outside to meet up with your friends.

“there’s our little influencer,” kelce says as you enter the cameron household. you smile and roll your eyes playfully, sitting down on the couch, “to be fair, I never thought my account was gonna get popular,” you shrug before continuing, “but it does feel nice knowing that people around the world like my outfits.” rafe comes through the back door, four beers in his hand. “we still waiting for top?” “yeah, should be on his way, though,” kelce replies as he puts an arm around your shoulder. rafe hands you a beer while you lean on kelce’s shoulder. you don’t miss the look rafe gives you. his gaze becoming sharp. you clear your throat as you open the can and take a swig.

as soon as topper arrives, the hangout officially begins. this was a tradition between you four, once a week you would hang out at each other’s houses.

this “tradition” started a long time ago. at first, it was just you and rafe. you remember how he defended you from your bullies, how he had been so selfless, despite everyone saying he was the opposite. you remember how his kind blue eyes would glance at you during homeroom, to make sure you were all right. you noticed how during lunch he would sit in close proximity to you, just in case anyone would try to be a bother.

you were shy when you asked him if he wanted to hang out with you outside of school for the first time. fingers fidgeting, voice soft and eyes looking down. you thought he was gonna laugh in your face, but when he said yes, you felt something spark in your heart.

rafe eventually became friends with topper and kelce, and the four of you clicked together like missing pieces in a puzzle. the summer after you graduated high school, you started a fashion account on instagram. posting various outfits, recommendations, and making get ready with me vlogs. you were hesitant, but the guys assured you that you had nothing to worry about. they were right, and everyone absolutely loves the content that you post.

after your account started blowing up, people from the obx found out and started following you. it made you slightly insecure at first, thinking they had been following you to poke fun at your content. but when you realized that you had started setting fashion trends across the island, that insecurity dissolved.

topper jumps off the roof into the cameron pool, splashing the three of you. “so stupid,” you mumble, shaking your head and smiling at him as he swims to the surface.

midnight struck, you were outside with a blanket wrapped around you. you all sat in a circle, eating takeout while gossiping — yes, gossiping, about the new family that moved into figure eight. it was the guys’ guilty pleasure, though they’d never admit it.

you scoffed at their endless conspiracies, deciding to just listen. you take a deep breath, crisp air hitting your nostrils. topper and kelce stand up, announcing that they’re going home. you, however, don’t want the night to end, so you ask rafe if you can stay over. thankfully, he says “yes, of course.”

both of you snuggle on the couch, rafe breathing the scent of your hair in as he not so sneakily peeps at your screen. you check your socials, and see that engagement is going up. rafe softly speaks, “how does this work?”

“hm? what do you mean?”

“do you get free stuff?”

“sometimes. but I mainly post things I already have,” you shrug.

rafe makes an ah sound before putting his chin on top of your head.

this felt…intimate. none of the other guys would be this physically close to you. you quickly brush those thoughts away, concluding that rafe is only this close to you because you’ve known him the longest. you put your phone down, leaning against rafe’s chest. this felt so natural for some reason. closing your eyes, you fall asleep, rafe loosely hugging your waist.

the next week, you were sunbathing in the sunny skies of saint-tropez. you had been invited to paris fashion week, and you had some free time after the event. however, you missed your friends, and you were texting them 24/7. you were replying to something topper said in the group chat, when someone approached you. good lord, he was attractive. he smiled at you, pearly whites adorning his face. you swore you could’ve heard church bells ring. “hey, mind if I set up my towel here?,” he asks, voice smooth and sultry.

“go ahead,” you move your sunglasses to the top of your head, taking a good look at him.

“i’m johnny,” he sticks his hand out.

you smile and say your name.

“are you from the states too?” he asks, quirking his head over to the side.

“yeah — north carolina,” you clear your throat, suddenly becoming nervous.

“oh cool, i’m from Illinois,” his eyes run up and down your body, and your cheeks grow red.

you two banter for a couple of minutes, before johnny bites his lip, as he asks for your number.

you smile and give it to him, he does seem like a nice guy after all.

the humidity of the outer banks is painful. turns out, when you came back, there had been a heatwave going on. to add onto that, the ac at your house broke down. so here you were, back at rafe’s, waiting until your cooling system gets fixed.

“how was your trip?” he asks, bringing out popsicles from the fridge and handing one out to you.

you beam at him, “absolutely amazing. I was freaking out over how many designers I met.”

“damn rafe, we don’t get one?” kelce says, laying down on the cold tile floor. “get one yourselves,” rafe gruffly replies.

topper and kelce glance at each other, wiggling their eyebrows. you don’t see it, but rafe does, and he scowls at them.

topper calls out your name again,“why’d you stop texting us halfway through our trip?”

“yeah, did you run out of data or something?” kelce questions.

“um—yeah, so…” you trail off, looking at the ground. “I met someone, and we really hit it off,” you smile, and the two boys make an ooooh sound, teasing. you continue, “yeah, we’ve been talking for a week now, and he seems like a chill guy,” you chuckle. “so sorry I ghosted you guys.” “you’re good, just, rafe was gettin’ all pissy when you wouldn’t answer,” topper sprawls across the tile. “shut up, top,” rafe groans.

“c’mon, don’t act like you were about to hop on a plane yourself to go visit her,” you giggle at topper’s teasing. you found it endearing that rafe cares about you so much. guess he’s still the same boy after all these years.

“rafe, I hate him!” you scream into your pillow. “I know sweetheart,” rafe gently rubs your back, sighing. after a month of talking, you and johnny decided to meet up again. in new york. it was stupid, meeting up with a guy you’ve met in real life once. he played you, hard. he had completely flaked on the meet up itself and ghosted you. money wasted and heart broken, you sulked on your bed.

“am I stupid, rafe?” you ask, tears staining your cheeks. “no, sweetheart. a bit oblivious, yes. stupid, definitely not.”

you sniffle, rafe handing you a tissue.

rafe whispers, “i’ll beat his ass for breakin’ your heart.” you know he didn’t mean it, but you shake your head regardless. sitting up, you face him, “he doesn’t deserve your time anyway.” he smiles, eyes crinkling, ���that’s the spirit.”

there’s a sparkle in his eyes. without knowing it, you lean closer to him. you feel him breathe, soft breaths hitting your face. you don’t stop, tilting your head and pressing your lips against his. oh god, what have you done?

he kisses back, arms wrapping around your waist. your mind moves a million miles per hour. you tangle your hands in his hair as he lays you down, crawling on top of you.

“are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? you know, our relationship’s gonna change after this, no going back,” he says breathlessly.

he’s so beautiful. taking a deep breath in, you blissfully say,

“yes.”

divider by sseuda on tumblr

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

✧ in which the attempt to get distracted from your feelings might not end exactly as you planned

jungwon x fem!reader (feat. sunghoon)

genre: mostly angst, some fluff

warnings: skinship, (a tiny little bit suggestive if you squint your eyes), mentions: physical violence, blood, alcohol, cheating, breaking up, toxic relationship, crying, and panic

word count: ~6.8k

a/n: phew, this took me like forever to write but the idea had been in my head for so long. i hope y'all enjoy this read ! ≧◡≦ (i highly recommend to read the teaser to this before for better understanding; it's linked in the pink text -> if you click on 'previously')

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

previously:

"you're still not seeing anyone?", his eyes locked with yours again, "i'm sure there are some guys in college who are all over you. maybe you should try your luck?"

he gave you a knowing look, as if he subtly wanted to tell you: get yourself out there and distract yourself from him.

over the weekend, you replayed jay's words in your head over and over again. he wasn't wrong; it wasn't too bad of an idea after all. you wouldn't try to force anything, but you decided to allow things to happen if they decided to roll around. you couldn't keep on sulking over your one-sided feelings, especially not when jungwon was your friend and almost in a relationship. you should be happy for him after all, you thought.

as if on cue, you bumped right into said potentional distraction the following week.

you were rushing down the stairs of the lecture building, eager to catch the subway three minutes later, as you tripped over your untied shoelace and right into someone walking up the stairs.

the force you hit him with made said someone stumble back a step.

before you could realize what happened, you felt a strong grip on each of your arms steadying you, eventually preventing you from falling down the stairs and taking him along with you.

"woah, careful there", you heard his semi-familiar voice as you looked up to meet his widened, chocolate-brown eyes.

"wait... y/n, right?" you nodded slowly, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. you remembered his face and his voice, but you couldn't figure out from where.

apparently, you couldn't seem to hide the confusion; the corners of his lips shot up into a smile the same time that a chuckle left his mouth. "sunghoon. we had a group project last semester." right. that's why he looked familiar.

still shocked from the moment, all you could utter was a little "i'm sorry" along with an apologetic smile. "for forgetting and for running you over", you added. only then, you realized his hands were still holding onto your arms. you cleared your throat. "and thanks for um... catching me, i guess?"

he gave you a short smile and loosened the grip around your arms until he let go of them fully. "i mean... i was kinda saving myself", he said, reminding you of how the scenario would have ended hadn't he reacted so fast - namely, with both of you at the bottom of the staircase, probably with at least one broken bone and definitely not with the grin he gave you now. the thought made your stomach twist.

"hey, it's fine", he tried to somewhat comfort you, noticing how all color had left your face. "although, i do think you owe me... for saving your life practically, you know"

he was exaggerating. you knew he was. but it still twisted your stomach a second time, leaving you with an uneasy feeling. relax, maybe he just wants some notes from a lecture he didn't attend. or he has an essay due tomorrow that he didn't want to write. or-

"come to my match tomorrow. if i win, you'll go on a date with me"

what.

your intuition told you to decline. however, the look in his eyes proved that he insisted, and you really did owe him.

maybe you should try your luck, jay's words echoed in the back of your head. right. maybe i should.

without wasting another second, you nodded your head, which caused a smile to spread across sunghoon's lips.

"i still have your number saved. i'll text you the details", he replied as he walked past you and up the stairs a few steps, before he turned around to look at you again. "you might want to tie your shoelace unless you planned to run someone else over"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the same evening, as promised, you received a text message from sunghoon with the place and the time for the following day.

yet again, your stomach flipped for the split of a second, the thought if you were out of your mind for agreeing on the deal with a stranger clouding your mind. but then again, he wasn't a complete stranger and it was only a college ice hockey match. it would be nice getting your mind off your feelings and any recent events jungwon never hesitated to tell you about.

and that's how you found yourself on your way to the college's ice hockey rink less than 24 hours later. as you walked closer, you noticed sunghoon standing in front of the entrance, carrying a big bag in one hand and holding his phone in the other. you picked up your pace for the last few meters.

"sorry, i lost track of the time while getting ready", you greeted him. he looked you up and down for a second before smiling softly. "don't worry, it was worth the wait."

you felt yourself smiling slightly at the compliment, your cheeks covered in a light pink shade.

sunghoon guided you inside and to a seat in the first row, waiting for you to sit down before he spoke. "i have to change and warm up now. do you need anything before i go?" you shook your head.

"i'm wearing number 7 so watch out for me. and remember, if my team wins", he said, confidence radiating from his voice, "you owe me a date". he gave you the hint of a grin before disappearing to what you assumed was the locker room.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as time passed, you found yourself feeling more and more invested in the match. although you had no knowledge about any rules, and the players' movements were too fast for you to follow, you quickly adjusted to the speed of the match and started to put the puzzle of possible rules together. as soon as it started to make sense to you, your interest grew bigger.

you hadn't noticed how you had unintentionally followed a certain player's every move until you cheered for a goal he scored, his head turning to look at you and his eyes lighting up as they met your cheerful ones. you swore you could see him giving you a quick wink, before turning on his skates to continue the match.

even as the match was over and the crowd of people around you started leaving, you were still trying to figure out if the fast rhythm of your heartbeat was due to the adrenaline in your body that the game had caused or due to your tiny interaction with said certain player. back number 7. said certain player, who you now owed a date.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

after your date with sunghoon, you found yourself accompanying him to every single one of his weekly matches, not even cancelling when you really had to finish an assignment that was due the end of that day - and that you hadn't even started. besides the matches, that had by now become like a weekly ritual for you, the two of you spent more and more time together, getting to know each other better and growing closer.

he would wait for you after your classes so he could walk you home - something you would usually refuse to do. but walking meant you didn't have to take the subway that was, more often that not, packed to a point that the doors barely closed. and walking with sunghoon meant spending some extra time with him, listening to how his day went and telling him about yours, and sometimes, just sometimes, it also meant having him holding your small hand in his bigger one, your fingers softly intertwined.

you would come over to his place after his practice, to order dinner and watch movies until one of you fell asleep cuddled up against the other.

the two of you would go out on dates, although neither of you officially addressed them as such, and you would slowly begin to feel more and more comfortable around each other.

what had started as a deal - all because you almost knocked him over on the college stairs a few months ago - and as sort of a distraction from your one-sided feelings for your best friend, had by now become a part of your life. a part that made your stomach all fuzzy and your heart warm up each second you spent together.

the plan to distract yourself, however, seemed to work - if jay's judgement was anything to go by, at least. a few weeks ago, you had finally briefed him on the entire situation with sunghoon. part of you felt bad for not letting him know earlier, mostly because he had given you the idea of 'trying your luck', but you had wanted to wait until things were more settled.

jungwon, on the other hand, didn't know yet. remembering how you'd felt whenever he was telling you about the girl he'd liked when you still had feelings for him, you decided to keep everything concerning sunhoon a secret from him. at least for now that the relationship with his girlfriend was in a slump that it couldn't seem to get out of. given your feelings a few months ago, you would have probably been happy to hear the news - although you hated yourself for that - but now that your heart didn't stung anymore at the thought of your friend with another girl, you felt bad for him.

if jay had told him already, which he pinky-promised he wouldn't do, jungwon was very good at hiding. or his mind was elsewhere. just like now, during your weekly bar-catch-up-meeting, when he didn't really seem to listen to jay's updates. you didn't have to ask him; you knew what lay heavily on his heart - and it made you feel even worse about your decision to introduce sunghoon to them that night. but recent events had sort of pushed you to finally do so;

a few days ago, the two of you were sitting in a café for one of your (unofficial) dates, when sunghoon suddenly handed you a bag. hesitantly, you took it from his hands and lurked inside. after shooting him another glance, and earning an approving nod from him, you shoved your hand inside the bag, grabbed the piece of fabric and slowly pulled it out. although you immediately recognized the familiar colors of the jersey, you unfolded it slowly, the '7' on its back confirming your suspicion.

"it's my jersey... my spare one, don't worry, it's clean", he added hastily. "it's to...", he reached up to scratched the back of his head, a tiny hint of nervousness spreading across his face, "to have a reminder of why we started dating in the first place, sort of. you can wear it to my matches from now on", he declared sheepishly.

the smile on your face grew wider with every word he said. "that's cute... thank you, hoon", you leaned in to quickly peck his cheek, only resulting in your own cheeks heating up even more. "i'll always wear it from now on"

you couldn't help but notice the warm, bubbly feeling the gesture caused in your stomach. it was a small one, yet it felt somewhat so big, so official.

you bit down on your lower lip at the thought. you had been meeting regularly, and when you didn't fall asleep at each other's place, you had been calling every night, even if it was just to say good night. sunghoon would keep his hand on the small of your back when you were walking and sometimes you even held hands in public. now that you thought about it, it did feel official. but it wasn't. neither of you had ever addressed the title-topic, until -

"will you finally be my girlfriend?"

now that you were official, you didn't want to hide it from your friends anymore, although jay technically knew. he just didn't know about the boyfriend girlfriend kind of thing.

you knew now wasn't the right timing, but a quick glance at your phone and the incoming message from sunghoon that he'd just arrived, told you that it was too late to change your mind.

just a few moments later, you saw sunghoon appearing near the entrance, his gaze scanning the bar until his eyes finally met yours and softened slightly at the sight. he gave you the hint of a smile and waited for a sign from you that he could walk over to the table you shared with your two friends. they were sitting with their backs to the entrance, so they hadn't seen him yet when jay finished with his weekly update just a minute later.

for the first time in a while, you rose to speak without jay needing to ask you to do so.

"i have kind of an update this week", you said sheepishly, looking over their shoulders to give sunghoon a tiny nod. he took the hint and made his way to your table. "actually, i want to introduce you to someone"

just in time, sunghoon walked past the table and stopped next to you, giving you a short smile and mouthing a 'hi' before looking at your friends.

"jay, jungwon", you pointed at them as you named them, "this is sunghoon", you introduced the three guys to each other, hesitating to continue. the last boyfriend you'd introduced to your friends had turned out to be a complete disappointment, and ever since, you hadn't been in a relationship again. now, it felt almost weird to open up to your friends about this topic.

sunghoon sensed your slight nervousness and softly placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a short, careful squeeze - as if to give you a sign that it was okay to continue.

"he's my boyfriend", you finally said, a nervous smile spread across your lips.

jay bit his lower lip to surpress a grin, but he gave you a look that said i knew it, before quickly standing up and reaching out his hand to greet sunghoon.

jungwon, on the other hand, hesitated before he mimicked jay's action.

he's my boyfriend. your words echoed in his mind, even long after sunghoon had sat down next to you.

my boyfriend. his brain replayed the scene over and over again like a broken record.

while his elder friend interviewed the couple about how they had met and so on and so forth - although, in secret, he already knew the story - jungwon paid no attention to any word spoken at the table. his focus moved from the hand sunghoon had casually placed on your thigh, to your smaller hand on top of his, and back to his hand and his thumb that slowly and softly caressed the skin on your thigh that your skirt exposed. then, to the smile that spread across your lips as you were talking about whatever, the short moments of eye contact you'd share with your boyfriend, the way his lips curled up when he talked about the relationship, and finally the short peck he placed on your cheek that painted your cheeks a light pink.

jungwon's chest felt tight. uncomfortably tight. tightness, paired with a stinging pain on the left side of his chest that spread like a wildfire to his stomach. with just a hint of hope, he picked up his phone from the table to check for a notification - only to feel even the last bit of optimism shatter to pieces, as he saw the empty screen. no message. no call. no nothing. of course.

only a few weeks ago, he used to experience all these tiny moments that you and sunghoon now shared, too. only a few weeks ago, he'd looked as happy as you did now. had felt as much in love as you did now, maybe even more. only to find all of that slowly fading away more and more with each day that passed, like an old photograph that had been too exposed to sunlight.

now that he saw it happening in front of him, he swore he could hear his heart ripping a little in his chest.

he didn't know if he should blame it on the alcohol in his blood or on the current situation with his own girlfriend when a spark of anger mixed with the sadness he felt. you were aware of his situation, yet you decided to introduce your boyfriend to them that night?

then again, he had no right to keep you from having a good time just because he wasn't. and if the look on your face and the way you slightly leaned against sunghoon were anything to go by, you did have a good time. but who guaranteed that, after all? the last time he'd been introduced to a boyfriend of yours, the relationship had turned out to be the prime example of a disaster.

paying close attention to sunghoon's every move, jungwon's grip tightened around his glass when his gaze went down to his hand on your leg again and he swore he saw it moving up your bare skin just by an inch.

jay, who'd learned to read his best friend's body language in next to no time over the several years of friendship, stepped on jungwon's foot under the table and shot him a confused look that caused the younger to empty whatever liquor was left in his glass and swallowing part of his anger along with it.

a few hours later (or more like what felt like an eternity to jungwon), your night out ended with bidding goodbye's to each other, a friendly 'it was nice meeting you' from jay and a more drunk than sober 'you better not hurt her' from jungwon.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

while jay contacted you a few times after your night out, asking the usual how are you's and the not-yet-usual how are things with sunghoon, you'd heard nothing from jungwon. you'd tried to reach out to him, but he had kept your communication to a minimum, his replies coming late, short and dry - if even.

that was until you found him in front of your door the next thursday night, after he had successfully woken you up by ringing the doorbell almost non-stop. when you opened the door and saw him standing in front of your apartment, you were ready to throw all kinds of complaints right at his face. because where did he get the audacity from to randomly pay you a visit past your bed time, when he knew for a fact how much you cherished your sleep and especially when he'd barely talked to you over the past week.

however, it took only a second look at his face for you to quickly close your mouth and swallow your complaints. you'd seen him feeling down before, but you'd never seen him like this. dark circles marred his usually bright eyes - eyes that were now red, either from anger or from tears. his skin was pale and his lips looked like they hadn't formed a smile in days. you couldn't quite make out his expression, swinging somewhere between the lines of sadness and sheer emptiness.

suddenly, it didn't matter that he interrupted your sacred sleeping time. worry rushed over you as you wordlessly stepped aside, eyebrows furrowed and lower lip sucked between your teeth, to make space for your friend to enter.

after jungwon had hesitantly stepped inside your apartment, you carefully grabbed his wrist, leading him to the living room and putting both your hands on his shoulders, pushing down softly until he sat on the sofa. your soft touch left tiny sparks on his skin that lingered there even after you left the living room again.

as you came back moments later with a mug of tea in both hands, you found jungwon still sitting in the same position. his gaze stuck to his knees, almost as if he didn't dare to look at you.

you exhaled a small sigh, before handing him one of the cups, placing the other on the small coffee table. you grabbed a blanket from the other side of the sofa and carefully put it around his shoulders in hopes it would somehow comfort him.

after you sat down next to him, it took him only the blink of an eye to blurt out all the thoughts that clouded his mind at once.

"i'm sorry for bothering you at this time, i know you were probably sleeping and i really tried to reach jay, but he didn't answer his calls and he wasn't home and-... and i know i didn't even talk to you properly the past days but-"

"jungwon.", you interrupted him, softly placing your hand on his upper arm. "what happened?"

he was right. you were sleeping and he hadn't talked to you properly the past days, but that didn't matter anymore. your chest felt tight at the sight of your friend in such a state.

you could hear jungwon release a long sigh before he said the words you'd already expected to hear: "we broke up."

you listened attentively as he gave you a summary of the previous happenings. it sounded like the prime example of a nasty break up; hour long arguments with a lot of screaming and crying included. trying to make up, only to fuck it all over the next second. you could feel your heart aching for him, only imagining how overwhelmed he must have felt, especially after being so in love.

"oh, jungwon...", you sighed once he was done, taking his hand that had started shaking in his lap at the memory of everything he told you in yours and giving it a careful squeeze.

his shaking hand came to a halt at your soft touch and for a reason unknown to himself, jungwon wished that you'd never let go.

"i'm so sorry", you broke the silence again and slowly let go of his hand, leaving it cold without your touch.

you knew he would talk to you or jay whenever he felt the need to and you certainly didn't want to push him to speak, nor dig too deep with further questions.

"comfort movie and ice cream?"

jungwon's lips curled into the hint of a smile just for the blink of an eye before it disappeared again and he nodded.

"comfort movie and ice cream"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

even a week later, jungwon caught himself thinking back to the night he rang your doorbell in despair and how you'd comforted him so effortlessly. he swore if he thought about it hard enough, he could still feel your warm touch around his wrist, on his shoulders, on his arm, and on his hand. sometimes, he even caught himself wondering what it would feel like to hold your hand for longer, or how much comfort it would give him to hold your body close to his if only the tiny amount of skinship had felt like this. like the first ray of sunshine after a storm. like home.

although he knew he had no business to neither think nor feel like that, his mind tricked him into the same train of thoughts over and over again. and whenever it happened, he'd feel guilty. he'd hate himself for letting his thoughts wander back to you so frequently, knowing it was straight up egoistic. you had comforted him that night. you had given him the tiny bit of affection that he'd been so deprived of ever since his relationship went downhill - even if it had just been platonically. he blamed the fact that you were running laps around his mind on the situation he'd been in, but that only made it worse. knowing he was only longing to relive these tiny moments with you for the sake of feeling at ease - of forgetting about his break up. or so he thought.

over the next few weeks, he was proven wrong. he couldn't say he was over his ex girlfriend yet, but she for sure started to matter less and less to him. at the same time, thoughts of you clouded his mind more often than he'd liked to admit.

at first, he'd tried to shrug it off. but as time passed, he couldn't deny the small pang in his chest whenever sunghoon picked you up from your night outs, whenever he saw your phone light up from a notification, the picture of you and sunghoon that you had put as your lockscreen greeting him, or each time you posted your boyfriend on social media - being all lovey-dovey, of course.

if he thought all of these feelings were just caused by the sudden lack of love in his life at first, by now he was sure that they were the outcome of the lack of your love.

you, on the other hand, blamed any glares at your boyfriend, any of jungwon's sighs at the sight of you two together, and any other more or less weird behaviour from jungwon on the fact that he was still not over his break up and simply felt a bit uneasy at seeing love happening right in front of him.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as the weekend rolled around, you were hoping that saturday afternoon would not only lighten up jungwon's mood overall, but also ease the uncomfortable tension between the two of you.

it was jay's birthday and as per his wish, you met up with him and some of his other friends from college to play bowling all together. you had been hesitant about letting sunghoon tag along, given the circumstances with jungwon and you not wanting to be the reason for a ruined birthday, but jay, who had also grown closer to sunghoon over time, convinced you otherwise.

although you were enormously behind in points, the game was fun and everyone seemed to have a good time. small waves of relief washed over you each time you saw jungwon scoring a strike, followed by a cheerful jubilation. finally.

it was your last turn before the game was over. even though your chances of winning were zero, you still tried your best to at least hit a few pins - just so the results wouldn't be as embarrassing. and against your own expectations, you indeed scored a solid seven.

when you turned around, jungwon tried his best to surpress a proud smile at your result. there was no need. it would have gone unnoticed by you anyways, your eyes falling right on sunghoon, his wide smile and his opened arms that embraced you in a short hug after you approached him.

"see, i told you; you just need some practice and you'll do well", he mumbled in your hair, leaving a soft peck on top of them, before he let go of the hug, cupped your face in his hands and captured your lips in a short but loving kiss.

"i guess seven is my lucky number", you replied jokingly flirtous.

sunghoon opened his mouth to reply, but was quickly interrupted by an annoyed groan coming from the other side of the table.

"you guys are gross"

the glare you gave jungwon for his words made his insides twist and he decided to keep whatever else words he wanted to throw at you - out of pure jealousy, admittedly - to himself.

in fact, you didn't hear any other word from him that day, until you used a moment in which sunghoon and jay were busy discussing whether baseball or ice hockey was better, to follow jungwon as he excused himself to the restroom. you were dedicated to confront him about the prior situation.

"what the fuck was that for, jungwon?"

he raised his eyebrows cluelessly.

"you know what i mean. it was unnecessary. and not exactly respectful." you crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking at him expectantly.

"it hurts seeing you with him."

fuck. his own eyes widened as the words of confession left his mouth. out of all the lies he could have come up with, did he really have to say the truth?

you sighed, dropping your arms to your sides. "listen, jungwon. i'm sorry about your break up and your loss, but just because you ended your realtionship doesn't mean that i have to-"

"am i not being obvious enough?", he interrupted, causing you to look at him in disbelief.

"what? i don't think i'm rubbing your nose in-"

"oh, cut the cap, y/n", he interrupted again, a slight hint of annoyance shadowing over his words this time. he blamed it for the sudden confidence it gave him as the next words just rolled off his tongue without any warning.

"you really don't understand i'm in love with you?"

the words hit you like a punch in the gut, its pain spreading all over your stomach as you took a step back.

this world cannot be so sick and twisted, you thought as the uneasy feeling made its way to your chest like a heavy weight that made it hard to breathe.

you swallowed hard, as if that would subside the feeling.

"i don't think this is the place and time to have this conversation now", you tried your best to stay calm, although all you wanted was to run off and escape the situation.

"why?" jungwon asked, and with each step he took towards you, you took a step back. "cause your boyfriend is just a few steps away?"

your heart was hammering against your chest.

"and what if he hurts you?", he continued.

memories of your previous relationship, memories which you had worked so hard to shove all the way to the very back of our mind, hit you like a wave. what if he hurts you?

you shook your head in an attempt to shake them off, trying to keep your cool with the attempt of a deep breath. you wouldn't panic. not here, not now.

"what would you know about his intentions?"

"nothing. but i don't trust him and i know about mine. you can still choose me over him and we'll-"

"stop", you said sternly. your head hurt and everything was spinning. "stop making everything about you." words left your mouth before your head was done forming them into sentences. "i had liked you for so long before and you never cared how i felt when you talked about her non-stop."

jungwon's eyes widened as your confession rang in his ears. "i...", he swallowed hard, "i care about how you're feeling"

"i'm feeling happy now. you care? then don't ruin this for me"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

weeks later, the stress the situation had left you in, had calmed down. you were laying on the side you claimed as yours on sunghoon's bed, scrolling through tiktok and effectively procrastinating on your studies. after sunghoon had left to meet with his study group, you were alone in his apartment. he'd offered you to tag along, but after you'd declined, you just decided to stay in his place so you could spend the evening together once he came back.

after a few more minutes of scrolling, you finally put your phone down and started studying. just when you felt too exhausted to continue, you heard keys turning in the lock of the front door. what a timing.

you quickly closed your laptop, stood up and made your way to the front door to greet sunghoon, only for him to quickly rush past you, not even granting you a look, but instead keeping his face down.

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and turned around to follow him.

"babe?"

you tried to understand what it was that caused him to act like that all of a sudden. everything was fine when he left. your mind started racing about all the things you could have possibly done wrong when he shut the door to the bathroom right in front of your face.

he didn't lock, but you didn't want to enter like an intrudor, so you took a deep breath before carefully knocking on the wooden door.

"sunghoon?"

when you heard nothing but the sound of water running, you decided to open the door slowly, little by little, until you could see him leaning over the sink and washing his face.

when you caught sight of the sink, painted in red, an alarm went off in your head. you quickly rushed over to him and stopped his attempt to splash more water on his face by grabbing both his wrists, tight but careful enough to not hurt him.

when he finally faced you, your heart dropped. his lip was slightly bruised and blood ran down his nose. you gave him a worried look to which he averted his gaze.

a few moments later, he was sitting on the edge of the bathtub with you kneeling in front of him, cleaning up the blood on his face and treating his wounds. although you were careful, you could hear him hiss in pain from time to time.

"are you going to tell me what happened?", you broke the silence while tapping a tissue on his lip.

no answer.

you took his hands in yours, scanning his knuckles for any injuries.

"you didn't fight back", you established.

still no answer.

you stood up with a sigh, ready to leave the bathroom, when only one word from sunghoon made you freeze right at the spot.

"jungwon."

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

when you didn't find jungwon at his place, you drove to the café he recently started working at, in hopes of finding him there. you knew he was busy working, if he was there, but you couldn't care less.

sunghoon had tried to talk you out of it, practically begging you to just let it be and to stay home with him, and the memories of the last time you tried to tackle a problem with jungwon weren't exactly encouraging you to do so again, either. everything told you to not confront jungwon about the whole situation, but anger got the best of you when you, nevertheless, decided to do so.

when you arrived to the café, you caught a glimpse of the counter, half relieved to see jungwon behind it, half not. not wanting to cause a scene, you waited in the queue until it was your turn.

"hi, what can i get-"

jungwon's words got stuck in his throat when he realized who was standing in front of him.

he believed in coincidences, but this would be too much of an coincidence, even for him. he knew you knew.

"let me guess, your lovely boyfriend told you already?", he cocked an eyebrow.

"care to explain?", you asked back, mimicking his attitude.

instead of replying, he left his spot, grabbed a glass and started to add ingredients you couldn't quite make out from the speed he was working at. once he was done, he placed it on the counter in front of you.

"i'm off in half an hour", he slid the glass across the wood, closer to you, "if you wait, i'll tell you after. the coffee's on the house."

and without another word, he turned to the next customer, ready to take their order.

you sighed, but grabbed the drink and sat down in an empty chair, swirling the straw. you hadn't exactly planned for the day to end with you sitting there, waiting for jungwon to finish his shift, and sipping on a coffee that tasted surprisingly good - but here you were.

a few minutes later, jungwon, who was now changed out of his working clothes, approached your table.

"i told you to stay out of it", you said, before he even had the chance to say anything. "what makes you think getting involved and punching him was okay?"

how and where did you two even meet? why did you start this, and why didn't sunghoon fight back? tons of questions rose up all at once, making it hard to not lose your focus.

instead of replying, he silently reached out his hand, to which you just gave him a confused look.

"you won't believe me, anyways. so i'll show you."

not sure how to feel about what he had to show you, you hesitated before standing up, but refusing to take his hand. you followed him through a door that prohibited access to customers with a sign that read 'staff only'.

without a word, he sat down in front of a big computer screen, repeatedly clicking on different things with the mouse and tapping on the keyboard here and there. his narrowed eyes indicated he was searching something.

an uneasy feeling crept up on you, spread from your stomach, to your chest, and finally the rest of your body. you had no clue what jungwon was about to show you, but what you were sure of was that it couldn't be good.

"got it", he finally said, after what felt like an eternity. part of you was curious to see what he'd show you, while another, bigger part was eager to run away and pretend the day had never happened.

hesitantly, you took a few steps into his direction, until you could see the screen. at the second glimpse, you understood that what you saw in front of you on the screen was the café you'd been sitting in less than five minutes ago. he was showing you the café's cctv file.

"that was right before my shift", jungwon said, before he clicked play and leaned back for you to see the screen better. although, when you saw and realized, you wished your vision was blocked.

what you saw was no one other than your boyfriend sharing a table with an unfamiliar girl, both of them sitting a little too close to each other for your liking. you weren't a jealous person per se, but you also had boundaries. and your boyfriend's arm around the shoulders of a random girl you didn't know came very close to crossing them.

you tried to tell yourself that they were waiting for the other members of their study group, but no one else arrived, and nothing on the table looked like studying.

your stomach sank further and further, pearls of cold sweat pooled in the palms of your hands and your knees started to feel weak the closer the two got to each other. by now, you were anticipating what you saw next, but you still clung desperately to the tiny bit of hope that you had left; that told you you were exaggerating and it would be fine.

but even that tiny spark of hope died when you saw exactly what you'd expected to see. your boyfriend leaned in for a kiss.

your breath got caught in your throat and by now you knees felt like they'd give in and let you hit the ground.

the last thing you saw on the screen was jungwon pulling sunghoon away and placing a delicate punch right in his face without hesitation - then the screen went black.

it wasn't until you saw your reflection in the screen that you realized jungwon had stood up and placed his hand on the small of your back, as if to steady you.

silent tears rolled down your cheeks until they fully blurred your vision. what if he hurts you, jungwon's words from several weeks prior replayed in your head.

before your mind could wander off to questions such as how long it had been going on or what you did wrong to get cheated on, you were pulled into a tight hug.

jungwon held you through your sobs, let you soak his shirt in tears and carefully stroked your back in an attempt to calm you down.

although his heart was aching, ripping a little every time you let out another bitter sob, he held you tight to his chest as if keeping you close to him could protect you from all the bad in the world. oh, how he wished it could.

after you'd calmed down, he slowly let go of you, taking his hands off your back and on your cheeks instead, cupping your face and slowly wiping away your tears.

"now if after this you still don't choose me over him, i don't know either", he tried hard to make it sound like a joke, "also, my skills in making coffee are immaculate, so..."

the last part elicited a small chuckle on your behalf that quickly died again.

"i need time, won"

he nodded and gave you a soft smile, your face still cupped by his hands.

"as much time as you need", he said softly, "whenever you feel ready, i'll be here waiting for you, okay? as long as it takes you"

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

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[sc0tters]

It Ain’t Easy | Ethan Edwards

summary: love would be a whole lot easier if your brothers were all on board with your boyfriend.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, 4:00am slightly edited writing 😭

word count: 1.63k

authors note: this is the official last piece before we start working on the December works. This is less than perfect because I tried to get this done beforehand, so let’s all play nice.

When Luke left Michigan he never thought that you’d end up dating one of his friends.

Sure you were twins and in the same friend group but the idea of you and one of his previous teammates was truly not something Luke even contemplated. Had he asked his ex housemates to keep an eye on you? Yes. Did he think that it would end up biting him in the ass as you rocked up to the lake house for the summer before your senior year with a boyfriend? Never in a million years, but somehow he was still sat there watching you cuddle Ethan on the couch.

You thought you struck the lottery dating a guy that your brothers already approved of. Ethan treated you well and after months of growing closer as you leaned on the older boy whenever you missed your brother it was no surprise when he finally made a move on you.

It was a warm February evening as Ethan walked you back to your dorm “you know you don’t have to do this every time we leave.” Without fail each time you came home from these parties Ethan was by your side keeping you company “someone has to make sure you get back in one piece.” The hockey player teased as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

You looked up at him with a smile “well thank you for that.” You squeezed his hand as your heels clicked against the concrete path “I’m gonna have to find someone new to walk me home when you get a girl.” You joked letting out a giggle that was like music to Ethan’s ears as you both stopped seeing your dormitory appear in front of you.

Ethan scrunched his face in disgust at those words “not interested in those girls.” He explained shaking his head “didn’t know I’d be fighting men for you.” Amusement was evident on your voice as you crossed your arms.

It made Ethan click his tongue as a laugh left his lips “y/n I’m looking at the damn girl I want.” His words made you stop with wide eyes as your jaw went slack “you better not be fucking with me E.” you warned as the boy reached out to grab your hands with a smile lingering on his face.

Before either of your could wait for wind to push you two together you instead let fate do it “you gonna let me kiss you?” The hockey player asked as he smiled “fuck yeah.” You swore pushing yourself onto your tippy toes so you could kiss him.

Over the next few months the relationship blossomed into the thing that became both of your missing pieces to the puzzle that was your lives. As you kept it to yourselves only letting images hinting to who your boyfriend could have been appear as they got sandwiched into your monthly dumps.

Quinn accepted that you’d eventually tell him who the boy was but what he didn’t think was that Jack and Luke would spend the days leading to the family trip to the lake house with a board guessing who your boyfriend could be.

The umich boys had been sworn to secrecy as you didn’t want to just tell Luke over the phone. Yet as you watched your brothers guide Ethan to the boat you wondered if maybe you should have told the boys sooner “they will play nice I’m sure of it.” Ellen could see the look of worry on her daughters face who could do nothing more than send her daughter a hopeful look that your mom was right.

But of course the Hughes brothers were fulfilling their brotherly duties as they stared down Ethan quickly bombarding him with questions about his intentions. Everything from if he saw himself being in a relationship for the long term with you to what he would do if you got pregnant. Any question they all seemed to not care that it was maybe a bit too far to be asking because as messed up as it seemed in essence they wanted to know if Ethan loved you enough to stay when they got scary.

Luke barely said a few words to his friend as he was still upset that Ethan could have gone behind his back to get with you. So as you helped Ellen start dinner Ethan was actually figuring out the quickest way to get off of the boat “you’re back!” The relieve in your voice was evident as you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel and sped to the living room “baby?” You added furrowing your eyebrows as you saw Ethan with a frown on his face “we need to talk.” His hand wrapped into yours as he pulled you to the staircase.

You couldn’t help it as you turned around to send your brothers a glare who could do nothing more than smile “please tell me you boys didn’t do what I think you did.” Ellen sighed as she crossed her arms behind them. Ethan made your heart break as he began pulling his clothes back into his suitcase “could you just talk to me!” You complained making him frown as he stopped “your brothers hate me so it’s for the best if I go.” His words made you feel sick as you furrowed your brows.

Part of you wanted to grow defensive and irritated as the other part of you just hoped to wake up from whatever this was “I know they’re tough but you’re really going to leave because they asked you a couple of questions?” You knew what your brothers were like but you thought Ethan of all people would have survived it.

Your irritation quickly became his too “it wasn’t just a couple fucking questions.” Ethan spat shaking his head “look I love you but I’m not gonna sit here and have my every move questioned for the next two weeks.” Tears began to form in your waterline “maybe we should take a break.” His fingers brushed through his hair as he sighed.

It felt like your world was coming to an end as it dropped off of a ledge “god I thought you were gonna be good.” You didn’t mean to be as harsh as you were but seeing him so ready to leave was a punch to your gut “they’re just protective it’ll blow over!” Your fists clenched “look they are important to you and I think you need to spend time with them.” Ethan cupped your cheeks as he leaned forward to kiss your head.

Maybe you didn’t agree with his logic but you knew that it was only going to end in an argument and for that you kept your mouth shut “I’ll see you out then.” Ethan had to admit that he was partly hurt that you weren’t putting up a fight for him but if only he knew you were holding all of this back because you didn’t want to make this harder.

And you had a sneaky suspicion that your brothers were stood at the door.

As you watched the car roll down the drive you couldn’t help it as you turned to glare at the boys “could you not let me be happy?” You frowned as you looked at your brothers who sat on the couch.

Quinn was the first to shake his head “we are just making sure you’re safe.” He pointed out as Jack nodded “we know hockey players and we know you.” That comment enraged you as you scoffed crossing your arms “you boys don’t know shit!” You hated saying it but you had fallen away from your brothers as they all became NHL players.

You would never admit it but you felt left behind as their lives “last season you all managed to forget my birthday when I fucking share one with you!” You pointed at Luke making him slide further into his seat on the couch.

The boys weren’t proud of the fact that it took a call from Ellen to make them remember that it was the youngest Hughes kids birthday too “Ethan reminds me how to smile and how to be happy.” Tears streamed down your face as the boys finally realised how they had screwed up “y/n.” Quinn was the first to keep up wanting to apologise “just stay out of my way for the rest of summer please.” You were the one sibling who never got mad, Jack broke your toys more times than you could count as a kid but you never lashed out. Luke cut your hair once and all you did was laugh.

But here you were now in tears as you could barley look at your brothers as you pushed up the stairs to your room. Quinn looked down to his younger brothers “we fucked up.” He mumbled falling back into the couch “like big time.” He frowned thinking about how upset you had gotten.

It was clear that all of the boys hadn’t noticed how much they actually pushed away from their sister. With Luke being at school with you they didn’t need to make the effort, so when he went the gap in your life truly begun to show. You were always going to be supportive of them but it felt like you were losing your boys.

Jack led the trio to the door “where are you going?” Ellen furrowed her brows as she watched the boys slip on their shoes “someone has to go get y/n’s boy back for her.” Luke sighed agreeing with his brothers that they all took things too far with Ethan “Quinn is upstairs apologising to y/n.” He added motioning to the steps.

The Hughes boys had a plan.

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (professor Logan Howlett/Fem student mutant reader)

Click here for chapter index.

Summary: The aftermath of your drunken night with Logan does not go the way you expect it to. Tensions rise, harsh words are spoken, and feelings get inevitably hurt.

A/N: thank you all so much for the kind words and the support! every comment means the world to me, seriously. my surgery went well, it wasn't very invasive but the nitrous gas knocked me out for most of the day yesterday! thank you to everyone who wished me well. this chapter is a lot more angsty than i was intending to write it but i've been feeling pretty icky in my personal life and i think that's just translated into my writing😅 whoops. i hope y'all enjoy tho!

Warnings: smut!! 18+ minors DNI!!!, swearing, ass slapping, unprotected vaginal sex, p in v, dirty talking, car sex, angry sex, slightly rough sex, orgasm denial if you squint, insults, Logan being kinda mean to reader and vice versa

Word Count: 5,118

Chapter 4

A sharp pain reverberates around your skull. Slowly blinking your eyes open, you eventually adjust to your surroundings. You glare suspiciously at the room around you, apprehensive to move. But your head is pounding, and nausea swirls around your stomach. You groan as you sit up, scanning the area for an indication of where you are. The window to your right is draped in sheer flannel curtains, allowing the morning sunlight to shine in, much to the dismay of your hangover. The log cabin interior is sparsely decorated, save for a pair of antlers mounted above a pine dresser, clothes draped haphazardly along its prongs. The space smells of tobacco and pine. Oh god, you think to yourself, your stomach dropping as you piece the puzzle of your night together in your mind. Logan. This is Logan’s house. And you’re in your underwear. Surely you didn’t...did you? Wouldn’t you remember something like that? Would Logan even want to fuck you? Especially with how drunk you assume you were. You’re pulled from your thoughts with a startle, a knock against the door bringing you back down to earth. Logan calls your name gently from behind it.

“I’ve, uh, got some toast, if you’re hungry,” Logan says, a layer of uncertainty in his voice.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” you reply, clinging the scratchy blanket to your chest. You gather up all the courage you can muster, preparing yourself to face him, assuming you made a complete and utter fool of yourself the night before. You find your pants on the floor and shimmy them up your legs, searching for a mirror you can fix your appearance in. You find the bathroom behind a door on your left and flick the light on, groaning at the harsh pain the bright light brings upon your headache. Once your squinting ceases and your eyes adjust, you almost gasp at how wrecked you look. Your hair is completely disheveled, smudged black eye makeup making your eyes look sunken in. The smudged makeup also doesn’t help the colorless, pale appearance of your skin. You turn the sink’s faucet on, splashing some cold water onto your face. You’re delusional to think that it will do much to help. You try your best to smooth your hair down with your fingers, taking a deep breath in preparation for whatever you may face in Logan’s living room.

You meekly open the door of his bedroom, scanning the area in front of you quickly before stepping out. His bedroom is situated on the second level of his house, the door of his room leading out to a mezzanine. From here, you can see Logan sat on a leather couch in the middle of his living space, puffing on a cigar. Despite his home having this mezzanine, it isn’t full of grandiosity. It’s lit fairly dimly, the ceiling flat above your head but vaulted above Logan’s. Everything looks hand crafted, with slight imperfections in each cut of wood that sustains the structure of the cabin. 

You walk slowly down the stairs, each step making your head throb. Heading towards the couch, you decide to sit as far from him as you can manage, feeling the most awkward you’ve ever felt around him since you’ve met. He reaches his cigar’d hand towards the coffee table, stuffing it out onto the ashtray that’s already littered with old, dead cigars. He slides a plate of cold toast in your direction before he gets up. You mutter a meek thanks as he walks to the kitchen that’s nestled under the mezzanine. You manage a bite of the toast, hoping it will alleviate your nausea slightly. It doesn’t, but it does feel good to have something in your stomach. Logan returns to the living room and sets a mug in front of you, grunting as he sits back down on the couch. He seemingly has no care with being in your proximity, as he moves closer to you than from where he was before.

“Thank you,” you grumble in appreciation, reaching for the mug of black coffee. Wincing as you sip, you wish you could make that Colombian dark roast without Logan noticing. He doesn’t say anything in response to your thanks, simply nodding as he sips from his own mug of coffee. There’s a loaded moment of silence, neither one of you brave enough to say anything yet. Maybe you did something in your drunken stupor to offend him. Or maybe something happened and he feels too awkward and ashamed to do anything about it. It’s killing you to not know, and causing you to worry even further that something bad might’ve happened. You decide to swallow your anxiety.

“Um, did we..?” you break the silence, trailing off, feeling too awkward to finish the sentence.

“What? Fuck?” he finishes, rather casually, a slight furrow to his brow. His candor made you almost choke on your coffee. 

“Believe me, princess, you were in no state,” he chuckles with a shake of his head, you exhale in relief, glad you didn’t do anything too stupid, “Wouldn’t be much fun that way, anyways,” he mutters into his mug.

A wave of heat rushes to your cheeks. The nickname, the sexual innuendo. Surely that was flirting, wasn’t it? A part of your brain knows this is so highly inappropriate. Your professor got you so drunk the night before that you had to crash in his bed, and now openly flirts with you the morning after. But the other half of your brain wants to know just how fun fucking him would be.

“How much do you remember?” he asks, turning his head towards you. Shifting your weight under his stare, you focus your thoughts, trying to remember as much as you can.

“I remember our first couple games of pool,” you start, looking up at the ceiling as you try and recall further, “I remember splitting the shot of tequila…I remember the lemon drops I made you drink…And I remember....” You trail off, remembering something far worse than a potential sexual encounter with Logan. The man. His body flying across the room from the force of your kick. Logan saw you, everyone in that bar saw you. You need to get out of here.

“You know, I think I should head home actually,” you deflect, trying your best to seem as collected as possible. You stand from the couch, not entirely sure where you’re supposed to go from here.

“Your ride’s still at the bar, you were in no condition, believe me,” Logan assures, standing up with you. He walks towards his dining table and retrieves what you recognize as your purse. He hands it to you along with your shoes, you offer a tight smile as a thanks. “I’ll give you a lift to the bar.”

…

The ride back to the bar has been silent, the only sound being the engine of Logan’s truck growling down the road. Your mind is slowly becoming less and less shrouded to the events of the night before. You recall more of the tension between the two of you, his hands supporting you when you fell, the times he called you princess, the way he bit the lime in half when he split that shot of tequila.

“This wasn’t what I was tryin’ to do,” Logan mumbles, suddenly breaking the silence. You snap your head towards him, confused by what he’s attempting to say.

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t tryna get you shitfaced. I just…wanted you to relax,” he admits, turning his head to you briefly before promptly turning his focus back to the road. That wasn’t his intention? Really? You suddenly recall talking to him about how you don’t like clear liquor, yet he still shoved those shots in your face. Sure, you were playing a game. But you were being playful in ordering him fruity drinks as punishment, he made you violently hungover and in a state of delirium.

“Is that your way of apologizing?” you snap, narrowing your eyes at him. Logan looks taken aback by your sudden frustration.

“Sorry?” Logan responds, his voice begging offense as his head tilts like a confused puppy.

“Oh, so that word is in your vocabulary. Great. Apology accepted. I really appreciate you taking responsibility for getting me unbelievably shitfaced on liquor I told you I couldn’t drink,” you sass, crossing your arms in frustration.

“Alright, bub, sure,” Logan scoffs, laughing you off as if you’re no serious threat. Which pisses you off even more.

“I’m serious. Did you honestly think I was enjoying myself puking in your toilet for hours?” you question rhetorically, trying to get him to understand, “Maybe you like being dysfunctional, but not everyone else likes being blackout drunk on their Friday nights while getting into bar fights.” You sit back in your seat and turn as far out to the window as you physically can.

“Hey! I didn’t make you do shit,” Logan counters pointing his finger accusatorially at you, “The whole goddamned game was your stupid idea.”

“Oh, wow, that’s a really good observation, Logan. You didn’t make me do anything. The drunk girl with impaired judgement made a decision and should face the consequences of her actions,” you remark sarcastically, your arms gesturing with each emphasis you make, “Wow, ‘ya sure you’re a history professor? Because you’d be great teaching Date Rape 101.”

“Date Rape 101?” he scoffs, barely coherent, before continuing, “And whose goddamn self defense classes are you taking, eh? Wonder Woman’s?”

You freeze. Unable to form a retort. What can you say? There’s no explanation for what you did last night. It was inhuman.

“What? Got nothin’ to say, princess?” he spat, gritting his teeth. You scoff and roll your eyes in disbelief at his attitude. His car approaches the shallow gravel lot belonging to the bar. Saved by the bell, you think to yourself. He puts it in park.

“Go fuck yourself, Logan,” you bark, your tone low and deadly as you throw the car door open and stomp out. You motion to slam it, but you hesitate when a thought crosses your mind, “And buying your student drinks is extremely inappropriate and against, like, so many code of conducts,” you remark sassily before slamming his car door shut. You fish for your keys in your bag, fighting to not look behind you and watch as Logan pulls out of the parking lot, before aggressively driving away. You growl in frustration once you step into your car, holding yourself back from slamming your head against the steering wheel. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you were mad at him or yourself for being so careless.

…

Saturday was spent nursing yourself back to health, doing nothing but laying in bed, doomscrolling on your phone in an attempt to numb your mind from the anger you felt towards your professor. The audacity to put you in that kind of position. You got so drunk you were almost unconscious, you were almost groped by a stranger, and you risked revealing your powers to him and all those strangers in the bar. How stupid were you to believe that you could have a fun evening with someone like him. An abrasive, impolite, selfish asshole that’s incapable of taking any responsibility for his actions. If you feel this way, then why do you wish you stayed in his bed a little bit longer? Why do you wish he made a move on you on his couch? Why do still want him? It makes you want to rip your hair out. How can he have this effect on you? And why him? What’s so fucking special about him that your affections are intertwined with his? No one has ever made you feel this connected in your life. It’s like there’s been an invisible string between the two of you since you’ve met, and it’s so strong that nothing can separate it. You hate him, you do, but you want him. God, you’d give anything to fuck him now. His actions from last night honestly fanning the flames of your desire even further. You don’t know why, you hate his guts right now. It almost seems that in order for you to release your anger and frustration with him, your body wants to fuck. Hard.

It’s gotten to the point where you can’t think about how mad you are at him without getting unbelievably turned on. You just want him to slam you down onto his bed and fuck you into tomorrow, leaving bites down your neck as you scratch red marks into his back. Despite your growing arousal, you’re too tired to want to relieve yourself, opting to succumb to sleep instead. You think about Logan calling you “princess” as you fall asleep.

“You got nothing to say, princess?” Logan spat from the driver’s seat, angling his head towards yours after putting the truck in park.

“Asshole,” you mumble through gritted teeth. You remain fixed on the expanse of gravel road in front of you, lit only by the headlights of Logan’s truck. Logan chuckles in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, Logan, you’re a fucking asshole!”

“It takes one to fucking know one, baby, and you’ve been a real mess all day,” Logan retorts, waving his arms in the air in frustration. “It seems whenever you got a problem with yourself you turn it around on me. I’m not a person you can dump your shit onto!”

“I’m not dumping anything! You don’t fucking listen to me!” you scowl, finally turning your body towards him.

“Oh, believe me, bub, if you had to hear yourself half the time I do, you’d understand why I tune you out!”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed.

“You heard me!” Logan growled, dismissing you with a wave of his hand.

“Fuck you!” you snap, venom on your tongue and a furious expression on your face.

“Fuck you!” Logan snaps back, sliding towards you on the truck’s bench seat to get in your face.

“Fuck you!” you raise your voice louder than his, squaring up to him, not allowing him to corner you in the car and get the upper hand. Your faces are inches from each other now, your angry pants fanning the other’s face. You can see a shift in Logan’s eyes, twisting from raging embers of anger, to dark and lustful in a second. His eyes flick down to your lips, then back up to join your gaze again. His lips hesitate between keeping the distance, and floating towards yours, like he’s being pulled by a magnet. You don’t want him, you hate him right now, but god how you want him.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumble quickly before his lips crash hastily onto yours. He swallows you, generously flicking his tongue in and out of his mouth. You tangle your tongue with his, grasping the back of his neck with need. Logan hooks both his arms around you, pulling you as close to his chest as he can manage. With each aggressive nip and suck to your lips, the stronger your arousal swirls within you. You tuck your legs under you, sitting up on your knees, as you push him back onto the bench of the truck. You straddle him, pressing your full weight onto his pelvis and reveling in the feel of his hard cock pressed firmly against your core. His hips buck into yours, hands traveling down the expanse of your body before sliding under the hem of your tank top. You aggressively grind your hips down onto his, causing Logan to growl lowly into your mouth. Your fingers travel to Logan’s scalp, gripping his hair with intensity and ferocity while your other is pressed firmly against his chest for leverage as you continue grinding into him. Your skirt has hiked up almost completely all the way, leaving just your lacy underwear as your only barrier against his jean-clad cock. So preoccupied with his lips on yours and the friction against your clit, you failed to notice that Logan has unclasped your bra and is fighting to pull your tank top over your head. Before you even get a chance to sit up and adjust, Logan loses his patience, using both his hands to rip your tank in half with ease. Any other day, you would give a shit and chastise him for being so careless, but right now, you want nothing more than to fuck the shit out of him. You grab him by the collar and sit him up without breaking the kiss, allowing him the freedom to slip your bra off of you and let your tits spring free.

You fiddle with the buttons at the collar of his shirt, growing increasingly frustrated with them. You decide to take a page from Logan’s book and rip the front of his shirt open, sending buttons ricocheting throughout the truck. Logan growls in approval, pulling you closer to his chest. He breaks the kiss, biting and sucking up and down the expanse of your neck causing you to elicit a guttural moan in response. Logan’s becoming more and more ferocious with his movements the longer your hips grind down onto his. Removing his mouth from your neck, he bares his lower teeth before shoving you back so he’s now sitting up above you. He unbuttons his pants with ease before pulling his cock out, clearly eager to fuck you already. You spread your legs in anticipation, your skirt scrunched up to your ribcage, your bare chest heaving. He reaches for the waistband of your panties and hurriedly yanks them down your legs, throwing them behind him without a care. He barely takes any time to line himself up before he bottoms out into your tight pussy with a growl from his lips. You gasp in a mixture of sheer bliss and sharp pain. Logan hunches over your figure, grunting into your ear as he begins his rapid, hard thrusts into your core. Your moans are high pitched, overwhelmed with the pleasure he brings to your aching pussy.

“Take it,” he growls into your ear before bringing his mouth down to the crook of your neck and biting. Hard. A pained moan escapes your lips. He grunts with each powerful thrust into you, spearing you in half, causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Each time he rocks into you, your moans grow more desperate, embarrassingly high pitched. Logan pulls his face away from your neck, maintaining eye contact with you as he brings a hand to your throat and squeezes.

“That’s right, take this cock,” he husks, his voice barely below a growl as he watches you get absolutely wrecked by the way he’s pounding into your pussy. The pressure to your neck makes you lightheaded, the pleasure overwhelming you.

“Yes…fuck,” you groan, your words of encouragement being broken up by each of Logan’s hard thrusts inside of you. Logan’s noises are animalistic above you, his teeth bared, his hand squeezed around your throat possessively. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take with his cock stretching and spearing you the way that it is. Just as you think you’re ready to pass out, Logan’s thrusts stutter to a stop. Removing the hand from your throat, he pulls out. You whine at the sudden emptiness, and watch Logan sit up above you, his chest heaving.

“All fours for me, babygirl,” he commands, gesturing to the space behind him for you to crawl to as he lazily strokes his cock. You oblige immediately, crawling past him to the other end of the bench seat. You arch your back in anticipation, gyrating your ass to entice him. He gives your rear a harsh smack causing you to moan lightly.

“D’you like that, princess?” he rasps, the gravel in his voice making you clench. He gives you another smack making you moan more, desperate for him to keep fucking you.

“Logan, please,” you whine, eagerly moving your hips backwards in an attempt to feel his cock against you.  

“You want it?” he teases, you can hear his cocky smile.

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, squeezing your thighs together for some kind of friction as Logan gently massages the tender flesh of your ass. You gasp when a hand shoots up to your hair, Logan grabs a fistful and forcefully pulls you up so your back is flush with his chest. From here you can feel the stiffness of his cock against your ass. You whimper, grinding your ass into him as you’re desperate for a release. Logan’s hips adjust, feeling his length prod at your entrance before he spears into you, completely stretching you out. You gasp as he hits your cervix, starting his thrusts slowly before pushing you back down onto your hands. Keeping his hand in your hair, he uses his other hand to grip your shoulder for leverage, before bucking into you hard. You groan, pressing your hands against the car door for support as his pace quickens, his belt jingling rhythmically with the pace of his hips. You almost feel pain from the way he prods your cervix, but his pace is so fast you barely have enough time to register it. Your moans grow lewd and high pitched, the slap of his skin against your ass, the pulling of your hair, his grunting and moaning and panting. It’s all so vulgar and feral. 

“Tell me I’m right,” he grunts, his teeth bared and grip on you tightening.

“Lo-gan,” you grunt, trying your best to form a sentence, but his thrusts move your whole body and you can’t speak when he fucks you like this. He lets go of your hair, bending over you to whisper in your ear.

“Tell me that I was right and you were wrong, and I’ll keep fucking this pretty pussy,” he husks, his gruff voice tempting you as his cock twitches inside of you. God, you want to, but you’re stubborn. You know you’ll never live this down and he’ll continuously hold it over your head for as long as you live. You crane your neck behind you, flashing him a sultry look, fluttering your eyelashes.

“No,” you whisper, pressing a firm hand to his chest and pushing him off of you, his dick popping out of you as he sits back in disbelief.

“No?” he asks incredulously. You spin around situating yourself on the seat as he stares at you blankly.

“No,” you clarify simply, smoothing your hair down and collecting yourself. You find your panties on the floor and slip them on. Logan slides towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck before kissing up and down it. You shrug him off, bringing your hand up to his face and gripping his jaw lightly so he’s forced to make eye contact with you. Eyes flit down to your lips hungrily, like he’s a dog begging for his chew toy.

“We’ll see how long you last without my pussy,” you murmur, letting his lips float just inches from yours, as he’s barely able to resist capturing your lips in a kiss. But you won’t let him.

This is the first time in a week you’ve woken up without an orgasm on your fingertips. You feel quite confused, unsure of what to make of this dream. It was just as vivid as the others, but the abrupt ending didn’t leave you begging for more from him. For once, you’re not dreading his class tomorrow, ready to face him and whatever kind of attitude he wants to throw your way.

…

It’s Monday morning and you approach Logan Howlett’s class with the utmost confidence. What could he do to you? Call you out in front of the class? What would he gain from that? You could just report him to the Dean, hell, you could report him to the president of the university. You could do that now even, but he hasn’t forced your hand yet. His actions today, however, could.

You push the door open, filing in with a few other classmates, trying your best to avoid looking towards Logan at the head of the room. You pull out your notebook, attempting to focus on nothing but his lecture and his lesson plan. No distractions today.

You startle when something is slammed in front of you onto your desk, as if Logan could read your thoughts and wanted to disturb you as much as possible by simply handing you back your essay that he must’ve graded. You avoid looking at him, which isn’t hard considering he walked away almost immediately after throwing the pages on your desk. You huff as you flip the it over, much to your surprise, there’s a huge red zero scrawled at the top of your page. You’re taken aback, trying to flip through the pages so you can understand why he gave you no credit. But he offered no explanation, no notes in any of the margins. Goddamnit, you’re the only person who turned it in on time! You should be getting extra credit for that alone. You try and glare at him, hoping he’ll meet your gaze, but he avoids you with expertise. That fucking bastard. 

You stew in your seat for the rest of class. Finding it almost impossible to focus on the lecture with how much more pissed you are at Logan. What reason would Logan have to be that petty? You did the work goddamnit, he can’t withhold a grade just because you yelled at him. What an immature, insecure, stupid man. You can’t believe you were ever attracted to someone so chauvinistic and egotistical. You’d have half a mind if you didn’t go to the President about his behavior, he shouldn’t be allowed to continue teaching here or anywhere. Not when you’re done with him. And you want him to know that. You want him to feel powerless to stop you from taking his job away from him.

The clock strikes 10 and Logan zips out of class swiftly, you attempt to follow, maneuvering out from behind your row as quickly as possible. You turn out the classroom, spotting him further down the hall. Tailing him through doorways and corridors, you finally find him at his destination: his office. You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for whatever he might throw your way. Without knocking, you swing the door open, promptly shutting it behind you. Mimicking his actions from earlier, you slam your essay in front of his face, staring at him with venom.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you snap, your face twisted into a furious scowl.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Logan asks, feigning ignorance, staring up at you with a coldness in his eyes.

“You’re a child,” you scoff, “What, you couldn’t handle getting yelled at so you take that out on my grade?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Maybe you should give that essay again another read,” he remarks as matter of factly as possible, trying his best to hide his thinly veiled anger.

“Bullshit. Fix my grade,” you command, reaching over the desk and shoving the pages closer towards him.

“I’m not fixing shit, now get out,” Logan barks sternly, sliding a drawer in his desk open and pulling out a silver leather-cased flask. He takes a generous swig, barely flinching when he gulps, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes.

“You’re unbelievable,” you huff in disbelief. A grown-ass man, drinking in the middle of the day while he’s still at work.

“You got a problem, bub?” he frowns at you before taking another swig of his liquor.

“What problem don’t I have with you!?” you exclaim, throwing your arms in the air in frustration, “You’re inexplicably nice to me on the first day of class, then you tell me to fuck off half of the time you see me, then you suddenly feel bad for me and take me out for pity drinks where you shove liquor down my throat like you wanted me to get sick! You’re abrasive, you’re bad at your job, you’re irresponsible and I could almost hate you for—“

Something in Logan snaps, causing him to stand up abruptly, slamming his palms flat on his desk before coming out from behind it to get in your face.

“I didn’t fucking ask for this!” he barks pointing at you aggressively, with each continuation of his thought, he steps closer to you, causing you to back away from his advances, “Do you think I want to be in that fucking classroom everyday, reading from a bullshit textbook with bullshit facts…Lecturing half-drunk, spoiled, rich, asshole 20 year olds who could give two shits about what I have to fucking say!”

You say nothing, letting him back you into a corner with each sling of curses and frustrations he barks at you. You can’t help the tears that well in your eyes as he gets closer and closer to your face.

“Don’t even get me fucking started on this shy, timid wallflower act you put on every day! If you think you’re fooling everyone with that performance, then you must be too goddamned stupid to be here! Stop wasting your time; wastin’ everyone’s goddamned time! Do us all a favor, pack up your bullshit and leave before you push someone else through a wall!”

Logan’s face is inches from yours now, lower teeth bared as he pants furiously, face red from anger. Tears prick your eyes and threaten to roll down your cheeks, you can’t help it, his words dug a knife into your chest. Is that what he really thinks of you? Is that really what you should do? You know what, fuck what he thinks, fuck him and his opinions. What the hell does he know about academia, you think to yourself. You inhale shakily, trying your best to choke down a sob as you twist your face into a hateful scowl.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, a stray tear rolling down your cheek despite your best efforts to uphold the angered front you wanted to put forward. You shove past him and back towards his desk, collecting your essay before starting towards the door. Your hand reaches the handle, you hesitate before you leave. Wanting to turn around, wanting him to maybe even stop you. But he’s fixed, his breathing remaining the same angered pace. With tears now unabashedly running down your cheeks, you leave, drafting the email you’re going to send to the president’s office in your head.

...

A/N: ouch :/ this one hurt to write lowkey. i had to put some smut in there to balance this one out because i started feeling too bad for all of the angst. again, all the kind words of support and encouragement make me so happy. i check my email a million times a day so i can see if someone left a comment. it motivates me a lot to keep this going, which is why im churning chapters out so fast. thank you all🫶🏻 leave your guesses for who you think the president of the university is below and any other x men characters you hope to see in the future!

also, i'm thinking about recommending a song to go with each chapter, i listen to music a lot when i write so i wanted to know what y'all thought about that! click here to view on ao3

Tags: @wolviesgirl @sanemis-piss

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Wade is having a stay-in date night with Ness, and this means the kitchen light is traded for a colored one, candles, half burnt pasta, cheap wine, and Careless Whisper blasting throughout the appartment complex.

He starts off with some cringy dance while V is up on the counter, rolling her eyes and smiling, but she can't help but feel like there was something different about Wade. Yeah, she knew this dance. She knew the routine of his 'serenade' and his littlw two step slow dance he had going on, making backup sound effects for Mr. George Micheal and eventually grabs the pasta spoon, singing into it.

This is not new, but.. something was. She couldn't put her finger on it but she knew her boyfriend. She knew him well enough to become engaged to him, break up with him, and start dating again.

It was like he was glowing.

But why?

"Tonight the music seems so loud! I wish that we could lose this crowd-" His non existsnt eyebrows wiggle, and Vanessa can't help but to almost spit out her wine.

"Maybe it's better this way, We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say!" He shouts into the pasta sauce covered spoon, leaning into her a bit as she rolls her eyes again, looking up at the ceiling. She knew what Wade wanted. He wanted to "earn" her with his performance.

God.. he really is her peacock, wasn't he?

"We could have been so good together! We could have lived this dance forever!" Taking her arm, He pulls her waist closer to him, connecting their foreheads with those pretty heart eyes of his beaming into hers with such love struck gleam.

"But now who's gonna dance with me? Please staaaayy~" He sings loudly, letting her go enough for V to notice that Logan is now staring too, the same lop sided love struck small smile on his face.

"And I'm never gonna dance again- Guilty feet have got no rhythm!!" He says, dropping onto his knees and arching his back, using her hand to keep his balance.

"You didn't have any to begin with!"

She hears, looking up to see Logan smirking as Wade jumps to his feet. "ExcUSE me!? My bad, not everything is a waltz, old man! Like seriously, when's the last time you could do anything but a simple one two three? Lincoln's wedding!?" He calls over the counter and Logan grunts, his joints popping as he gets off the couch.

Wades eyes widden with dangerous excitment as he turns to her. "Oh now, im in for it!"

"Damn right. I can do more then Waltz, you know."

"Oh, yeah!? Like what? Square dance?!"

"Whats wrong with square dancing!?"

Then it clicked.

Him.

That's what was different about Wade.

Logan had changed him. Unconsiously, for the better. He was so... Happy. He was like a missing puzzle piece to complete Wades purpose of being, mirroring what Wade needed, even if that meant insulting his dancing skills mid date.

Grinning widely like a moron with a crush, he changes the song- Wade was serious. He would never dance with anyone else except V to that song ever again- Pushing next on their shuffle only for Madonna to come on.

Squealing, he waves his hands, shoving the pasta spoon back into the pot then took Logan's hands. "Can you swing?"

"S-swing?- Woah!! Hey!"

"You wanted to dance so were dancing!"

"I didn't say that!"

As she listens to them bicker, she laughs as she watches Logan awkwardly step on Wade's foot multiple times.

"Ouch!! Hey! I'm regenerative, not indestructible! You're like 400 pounds!!" He teases, and the blush on Logan's face is something she wants to take a picture of, watching as he tries to teach Wade how to 'properly dance', spinning him around, holding his wasit and dipping him at certian parts.

"Ahh!! Don't drop me!!"

"I'm not going to drop you, Stop screaming!"

"Ness!! He's gonna drop me!"

She giggles, giving Logan a playful finger wag. "Hey do you mind? He needs all the braincells he can keep!"

"Yeah! Cancer already ate half of them!"

"Oh, sssuurree, just the cancer, definitely not how many times youve made me shove my-"

"Lo-Lo!!! Not in front of Nessy!!" He whines, being spun again.

"Oh shut up, i'm not going to embarrass you infront of Vanessa-" he turned to her, whispering "I so am"

"I HEARD THAT!"

"What? It's not my fault your game is weak." Logan teases him, giving her a playful nod, putting his hand out for her to take "Ma'am."

She laughs, hearing Wade suddenly complain that he wasn't supposed to be stealing his date.

"Maybe she wants to dance with a real man-" Logan coes, gently taking V and spinning her too... Vanessa could see why Wade liked him.. he was quite strong. And a gentleman.

"My gender blindness has NOTHING to do with this!" Wade whined in a high-pitched tantrum like sound, grabbing her waist and pulling her into him instead.

Oh great. And now they were fighting over her.

Gosh... Maybe she has two Peacocks...

[1greyscale1]

i’ve said this before, but i should say again

i love my system.

i love every one of them. i love the ones that have stayed since god knows how long, i love the ones who have stayed for a day or two and left, i love the ones who have been here, left, and came back. i love my system. we are one happy family, and i can’t express my love for every one of them. i’m rambling right now, but i don’t care. i need to put it out there. i love everyone of us.

i’m going to say some words about all of them now.

Alastor. I love him so much. my Alyaly. he formed one stressful night, it was a car ride back home from the airport after a big trip. i was listening to some sad songs, and ‘we’ll meet again: alastors version’ popped up somehow. playing it, i sobbed silently. he formed to comfort me, make sure i was going to be okay. he made me feel better. i love him, my Alyaly.

Rosie, oh Rosie, my Aunt RoRo. she helped me with colouring and learning to calm down easier. she was there for me when i needed her, and even though she had some times where she would leave, she always came back. i love Aunt RoRo.

Corvid… Corvid… Corvid… oh how kind and uplifting she is. she formed from my interest in kandi bracelets. she joined me whenever i wanted to make bracelets, and we even combined our interests and made a ‘SELF-iSH’ cuff! i love her personality, and how her level of chaos connects with mine. i love Corvid.

Ion! i love ion, the wine aunt of our family. we sometimes joke about her being more insane then Corvid. just our little inside joke, but it means a lot to us. she is very knowledgeable and loving. she formed from just a name. a simple name. she dated Corvid after a few days of her being formed, and they’ve been together since. she makes the best jokes, and loves to make kandi with Corvid and I. i love Ion.

Adam, the big man. when he formed, he was tough and rude. but after a little, he got closer to us, and broke down his tough exterior. he dated Lexi after the two clicked like puzzle pieces. meant for each other. Adam is splendid, he is my older brother figure, and loves Lexi like there’s no tomorrow. i love Adam.

lovely little Lexi. she was sort of always here, no real form date, but we love her nonetheless. she has a very bouncy and open personality, with the brightest smile a human could ever imagine. always kind, caring, and of course part of our family. she loves Adam to death, making sure he’s got everything he needs whenever he seems down. she’ll always hug people if they need it. she is the sweetest person ever. i love Lexi.

last but certainly not least, Rowan. our fox. when he formed, he was very cautious with any information he gave to us, asocial, and more secluded. but eventually, he became more calm around us, telling us more about himself, and eventually being a big part of our family. he’s our fox, and our best friend. i love our fox, Rowan.

i love my family.

[nanaminokanojo]

BAD NEWS (part 69)

-just when you thought you were over your humongous crush on your older brother’s best friend, geto suguru, you couldn’t have been more dead wrong, except satoru doesn’t like suguru for you because he knows his kind all too well: a huge ass playboy who breaks hearts like he changes socks. but you think, MAYBE you’ll be the exception…maybe not.

CHARACTERS: drummer!geto suguru x you/afab reader | gojo satoru | various jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | band au | college au | stupid pining | aged-up characters | friends to lovers (?) | smut

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol, drugs | mentions of cheating, promiscuity, mild dubcon, etc. | god-awful pet names | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 69 next>>

A/N: Prose after the 4th panel.

"No, Kiku! Come back!" 

You sighed, watching Choso's cat jump off the bed, darting into the hallway and out of sight. "Well, there he goes." You rolled on your stomach, eyeing your host with a pout. "You scared him."

Sukuna chuckled, his deep voice rumbling in the room from where he sat on the floor at the foot of the bed. He threw his head back on the mattress to look at you, one hand reaching up to lightly poke you on the cheek with his index finger. "Did you come here for me or for that bratty cat?"

"I braved the rain for you with the perk of seeing Kiku," you quipped, snickering when he pinched your cheek, rolling his eyes.

He clicked his tongue. "That's a stretch considering how Geto suddenly has a huge-ass umbrella and walks you to the door." Sukuna returned his train of vision to the flat screen where the movie you were watching was all but forgotten. "You seem to be getting along fine now."

"I guess." And before you knew it, you were saying, "Suguru is confusing me these days. He's just this huge puzzle I'm trying to piece together even before I left."

Sukuna vaulted himself up, sitting on the bed just beside your head while hitting pause on the remote. He looked down at you, his playful mood replaced with that of concern. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I do. I just don't know what to say," you readily responded, also surprising yourself when you thought of all the things you felt you couldn't say to Suguru. And then, lost in your thoughts – not of Suguru but of Sukuna – you said, "I know I said I find this – us – weird, but it's so much easier being with you."

It felt different with Sukuna. It was comfortable, as natural as breathing. You can just say or do whatever you wanted without the fear of being judged or rejected. After all, you've known Sukuna, along with Yuji and Choso, all your life. So, when he says he has seen you in your diapers, he meant that quite literally. You all grew up right across the street from each other with your family moving in when Choso was three and Sukuna was just born. The brothers were pretty much Satoru's very first friends and eventually yours as well, until Suguru came into the picture during the beginning of primary school.

Of course, you liked Yuji the best out of them since you were the same age. You'll always have a special place for the youngest of the three boys even with Megumi around, but you're realizing that, when it came to speaking your mind, it was Sukuna whom you sought for. He's surprisingly a great listener, and for someone whom you've known to have a penchant for delinquency, he gave very sound advice, acting like a proper older sibling when the situation required it. Sometimes, even better than Choso who had a tendency to panic. Just like Suguru, he's been there through almost every phase of your life, and he was one of the staunch believers in your talent on the field, always there during your games.

"Baby, don't give me false hope."

"I'm not." You shrugged, chuckling as you absently ran your fingers over the tattoos on his arm, tracing the artfully iterated characters of his brothers' names on the side of his right wrist. He may act like a bully to both of them, but he's a big lump of melted marshmallows on the inside. "It's just..."

What if you gave what's going on with Sukuna a chance? Perhaps you weren't appreciating his presence enough as you ought to, too preoccupied with Suguru. The lack of clarity where your relationship with Suguru was ironically plain to see. In contrast, with Sukuna, perhaps…

"Just what?"

"Kuna..."

"Yeah?"

In very abrupt movements, you bolted up, sitting lotus and orienting yourself towards him. He was startled, you noticed, but you were much too distracted by your current course of contemplation to address it no matter how funny he looked, blinking in confusion.

"Why do you like me?"

Sukuna arched a brow at you. "Damn, baby. You're full of surprises today."

You know he meant to tease you, but there was no distracting you at the moment. "Well?"

"Let's see..." He stroked his chin, pretending to puzzle over the matter, but then, he looked at you seriously. "I couldn't think of one reason why I shouldn't, that's for sure. And though I can think of a million reasons why I am attracted to you off the top of my head, they will all seem shallow."

"But?"

"But I care about you, not because of those fragmented details about you, but the whole package." A tinge of pink touched his cheeks, a hand making it to the back of his neck as he averted his gaze to your hand on his arm. "For some reason, I just realized I do like you more than just being childhood friends. Perhaps I realized what I was missing when you went away or the teasing caught up to me, but when you came back, it felt different.

And I've known you for so long, but I've never once found a reason not to love anything and everything about you, and...and – I'm rambling now." He snickered, glancing at you with uncertainty dancing in his garnet-flecked eyes. "I just thought, why not, you know? I-I hope I'm making sense."

Who would have known, you thought, not realizing that you were holding your breath and biting your lower lip at the same time as you fought a smile. To say that his words were unexpected was an understatement, and for the first time, it got you fully acknowledging how he affects you outside of how you viewed him as an older brother of sorts without the denial and frustration of trying to wrap your head around the notion that he sees you as a woman.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. You're teasing me, baby girl." He feigned annoyance, even rolling his eyes at you but eventually melting into laughter with you.

Again, comfortable and easy. "Not the intention, but I appreciate that. Really. I never knew..."

"Now you do."

A stretch of silence followed his words, but it wasn't awkward at all, just relaxed and pleasant. Like those times you would all lie down on the grass after racing to that tree on top of the hill behind their house, catching your breath, no words, just the occasional chuckles at your own silliness. It felt nice.

The two of you didn't say a thing for a few more moments until you decided to speak and say, "So...where's my surprise?" You looked around you, pretending to look for it.

Sukuna flashed you a rueful smile. "Today didn't work out quite the way I had it planned."

"It's okay. I was just kidding."

"Although..." He adjusted his position, coming closer towards you, his movements cautious. "I would say it's for the best."

"Why is that?"

Suddenly, he turned serious, meeting your gaze squarely. "I've been wanting to try something for a while now."

"Try w-what...?"

It was your turn to be thrown off balance when Sukuna lifted a hand to your cheek, his touch tentative like that time in his car as he came even closer, invading your space. His fingers were cold against your skin which grew warmer the longer he lingered. His probing gaze followed the movement of his hand to your chin, and it seemed he was holding his breath when he let out a quiet sigh as he looked at you as if he was seeing color for the first time.

Sukuna's tongue briefly darted between his slightly parted lips before saying, "I seriously wanna kiss you right now." His eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes as he sought permission. "May I?" He swallowed hard, gaze heated as they returned to where he had set his goal. 

You just stared at him in a daze, not really knowing how you would respond to his request. And just when you were about to move away and put an end to it, your thoughts went back to the notion of giving it a try, see how you feel about it.

"Or we can forget I ever asked."

"No, I –" You shook your head, feeling your mouth go dry as you groped for words to say, the right ones. And then you whispered, "Go ahead."

He was absolutely taken aback, but made no move to be any farther from you. "You sure?" he asked, taking on a gentler tone. "You don't have to –"

"I want to." You were surprised at yourself for saying that with more conviction despite how your heart wanted to jump out of your chest that it's all you could hear in your head. The consequences of allowing it made themselves known one after the other in your mind, flashing like a montage; a warning came along with it, a tiny voice in your head saying you're about to cross the vague line between friendship and beyond that. However, you didn't want to take your words back, mostly out of curiosity.

"O...kay?"

You nodded slowly, and before you could make sense of what he was saying, he came closer, his lips tenderly pressing onto your cheek as he pulled you closer. Sukuna rested his forehead against yours, his eyes drooping with a bewitched look. His mouth stretched into that lopsided grin as he murmured, "Wanted this to be more special..." 

His thumb brushes your skin lightly, and he hesitates for a moment, as if savoring the space between you, the anticipation hanging thick in the air, killing you with how you've pretty much stopped breathing. And when you least expected it, thinking he has yet more to say, his lips touched yours, light as butterfly wings. He pulled away a smidge only to kiss you again, slowly yet with gradually increasing pressure that prompted you to move with him, little by little, baby steps like he told you.

And you did just that, moving on your own accord, hand reaching up to mirror the way he held you. Your mind went hazy with every detail of how he kissed making itself known to you. His lips sought yours without the force you were expecting from his evident eagerness, and yet it quietly implied his insistence to have you. His hot tongue mildly brushed at the seam of your lips, tiny licks that convinced you to open up just a bit at a time until eventually, you let him in, wanting to know what lies beyond.

You responded in kind, opening your mouth and matching his tenderness with your own, feeling his warmth seep into you. His other hand finds its way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, deepening your connection. Sukuna let out a deep groan once he found your tongue, making you acutely aware of every sensation he elicited from you - how his soft and warm lips moved with hunger that sent shivers down your spine, distracting you from how he was slowly pushing you into the plush mattress, his taut body moving above your pliant form.

“Kuna…” you breathed out when he momentarily cut the kiss to catch his breath.

“Want me to stop?” he asked, but at odds with his words, he took your lips back against his; breath mingling with yours, creating a rhythm that feels both foreign and familiar. 

“N-no,” you whined, so out of it as you wound your arms around his neck to have him closer. You can feel his heartbeat through the light press of his chest against yours, a steady counterpoint to the racing of your own while his fingers trace a slow, soothing pattern on your waist, a gentle anchor that keeps you grounded in his dizzying ministrations.

The kiss deepens gradually, growing in intensity as your confidence builds. His lips move with a practiced ease, exploring the contours of your mouth with a mixture of curiosity and assurance, making you lose yourself in the warmth and the quiet strength of his arms around you.

And then clarity set in.

A kiss is a kiss, you've expected the chemical reaction that comes with it. It wasn't your first, it's definitely not going to be your last. What you weren't expecting was the visceral effect Sukuna's kisses had on you. He had a certain pull to him that kept you wanting more and more, but then, he himself pulled away.

Just as well. The thought of craving his touch scared you in the sense that you didn't want your attraction towards him to solely be based on that. Sukuna is a good person, and you didn't want to short change him, considering everything he said.

"This isn't so bad," he spoke against your lips, continuing his words earlier, you surmised. 

You honestly didn't know what to say when he was still close enough for the tip of his nose to glide over your flushed cheek. Sukuna's a good kisser, that much you figured out in your addled state, not even realizing that you were the one holding him in place, your fingers tingling with the feel of his undercut.

Having caught yourself, you let your hand fall on his shoulder as you nodded and met his eyes with your own. A smile drew itself across your lips. "No, not at all," you couldn't help but agree as you regained your composure, finally finding it in you to be playful with him. Again, easily done without lingering awkwardness. "Who would have known?"

Sukuna arched a brow at you in question, chuckling, but not quite sure what you meant. "What?"

You tried to fight your laughter, biting your lower lip but all in vain. Who would have known, indeed? He's always been someone you held dear like you would Satoru and yet your reaction to him would suggest otherwise. Your cheeks were still flushed, you could feel the heat even on your ears. 

He shrugged, feigning annoyance as he lay down beside you, propping himself up by his elbow. "I kiss you and you laugh? You really know how to hurt a man."

"Not the intention. I just..." You took his free hand in yours despite it being larger, giving it a squeeze. "Did you ever think we would be like this? Be honest."

"I'd be lying if I say I didn't." He flipped your hand, raising it to the side of his face and holding it there. "I might've thought of it a few times before." He tilted his head to the side, smirking at you. "What about you? Weren't you running around with your girlfriends in high school spying on us during band practice?"

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "Dragged along is more like it. You should've seen me gag when they fawned over you lot."

"Really? You're not gagging now."

You averted your gaze, suddenly feeling shy. "I'm not."

"So, what does that mean, hmm?" He redirected your line of sight on him, taking you by your chin to turn your gaze towards him. "Am I at least a good kisser?"

You merely shrugged, fighting a smile as you moved to get up much to his confusion. "Mine to know."

"Oh, come on!"

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© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240814]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[icycoldninja]

Hello, can you write about sparda boys + V headcanons about reader who has Maria Antoinette syndrome (Canities subita, also called Marie Antoinette syndrome or Thomas More syndrome, is an alleged condition of hair turning white overnight due to stress or trauma) because they had to fight at a young age (like being a child soldier, but currently in a higher rank like a general, idk)?

I love your headcanons, hope you have great day

Thank you, I will, and hope you do too! Enjoy!

Sparda boys + V x Reader with Marie Antoinette syndrome headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante just thought you'd inherited Sparda genes somehow. Maybe his old man banged your great-great-old woman a while back and now you have the signature white hair.

-Hearing you backstory made him realize how traumatic your childhood must have been. His heart ached for you.

-Knowing that you are not his distant half-sibling or something means romantic advances are not out of line. He really wants to help you.

-He'll be there if you want to trauma dump all your experiences as a child soldier, and won't judge you for any of it.

-What they did to you was wrong, and he will make sure you know that he loves you and that he thinks you're perfect.

-He tells you he thinks your hair is really cool, because it's true, and can now confidently say you're twinning.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil never gave much thought to your appearance.

-Sure, it was odd that a non-Sparda youth has white hair, but then again it could just be dye or kooky genes.

-Learning of your tragic past made all the pieces of the puzzle click together. It was a rare syndrome that you had, but an interesting one.

-He sympathizes with your having to fight at such a young age. He did too.

-Vergil's not very good at cheering people up, so don't expect long, wordy speeches about how amazing you are.

-He shows his love for you by MOTIVATING you throughout your day, helping you whenever you need assistance.

□ Nero □

-Nero thought your hair was cool as hell, just like his.

-He never wondered why your hair was that color because he honestly didn't care.

-Learning you had Marie Antoinette syndrome worried him; were there other effects that have yet to reveal themselves?

-Your past was definitely concerning and most likely the cause behind your syndrome taking affect.

-He's concerned you'll start prematurely aging whenever you get stressed and is now trying to take all your responsibilities so you don't turn into a mummy overnight.

-You'll have to explain to him that's not how it works, or he'll end up overworked and exhausted himself.

● V ●

-V thought you were an interesting person with an interesting appearance.

-He often wondered why your hair was so white, since you were so young and didn't seem to be of demon descent.

-However, he held his tongue, fearing it might be linked to a traumatic event from your past.

-He was right, too. You eventually told him that your syndrome kicked in when you were a child, fighting in some war.

-This information was quite depressing; V decided he would take care of you from now on in whatever way he could, because you deserved to be loved and cherished.

-He's very supportive and sweet towards you, and with time, he could probably help you recover from your trauma.

[andypantsx3]

warnings: nsfwish, aged up characters, implied fem-bodied reader

"I know what you're doing."

Across the room, Shouto throws you his most innocent look.

"I am reading," he says evenly, giving the book in his hands a little tilt as if to emphasize its presence.

You don't buy it, and you open your mouth to say so. As if on queue, you can feel the temperature of the room raise another couple of degrees—and the heat is coming from Shouto's direction.

You hadn't noticed at first. Earlier this afternoon, you'd been wrapped in a knit cardigan, but you'd noted eventually that it was too warm for you, and discarded it over the arm of the couch.

After another half hour, you thought perhaps your fuzzy socks, too, were overkill, as the house was pretty temperate today. Another thirty minutes later you'd exchanged your sweatpants for shorts—and it was only then, as you passed the thermostat on the way back into the living room, that that you realized.

The temperature was set to low. But the room itself was registering very hot. The temperature was being fucked with.

And only one of you was a pro hero with a temperature-based quirk.

You'd sat back down in the arm chair, slinging your legs over the side and pretending to get back to reading. Shouto waited a long while, twenty entire minutes, but then your shirt started to feel too warm against your skin, the air of the room slightly thicker in your lungs.

And you knew it was Shouto's doing.

"You are not just reading and you know it," you say. "Turn it back down, Sho."

Shouto's features betray nothing, his damnably perfect poker face sliding into place. "Turn what down?"

"Your quirk," you tell him. "I don't know what you're up to but you've been caught, and this scheme ends here."

The temperature ticks up a couple degrees—you can tell by the tiny bits of moisture gathering at your hairline. It's suddenly almost like a sauna in the room.

"Todoroki Shouto," you start, pointing your finger at him. But his eyes don't follow it—they're locked somewhere below your waist, staring fixedly at the length of bare thigh you're now showing, thanks to your wardrobe change.

There's a click in your thoughts as the puzzle pieces slide together. You suddenly understand.

"Are you...? Are you trying to get me to strip?" you ask incredulously.

Absolutely nothing in your boyfriend's face changes, and his tone is purposefully bland. But there's an incredibly long pause before he says, "Your shirt appears warm."

As if it's just a fact he's observed. As if he's not the root cause.

"You are such a sneak," you tell him.

Two mismatched eyes slide to yours, but Shouto looks unfussed. If anything, the room gets warmer. A drop of sweat slides down your spine, incredibly uncomfortable.

Curious about his objectives, you finger the hem of your shirt. Shouto's eyes snap to your hands, and you can feel gaze practically burning through your shirt as you pull it over your head, leaving you clad only in your bra.

Finally, you spot little hints of weakness in your boyfriend as his jaw clenches the tiniest bit, his fingers curling restlessly over the sides of his book as though he's imagining taking handfuls of you. You fight down a helpless smile.

"Is it warm, love?" Shouto asks, as though it's only just occurred to him. "Would you like me to cool you down?"

He sets down his book, blinking two very innocent mismatched eyes at you. He opens his arms as if to take you into them.

You can't help but laugh at the transparency, the absolute stupidity of his ploy that he's apparently been working at nearly all afternoon. He is such a boy.

You linger a moment, like you're deciding. But of course you throw yourself into his grasp in the end, laying yourself out over him on the couch.

Though you doubt things will really cool down from there.

Not for a very long while, at least.