#so i figured maybe it would be helpful to others

[girlkisser13]

being married to toji fushiguro would include

• toji is fiercely protective of you, even if he doesn’t always express it. he doesn’t hover or ask if you’re okay every five minutes, but he notices when something’s off and is always there to back you up.

• he doesn’t say "i love you" often, but his actions speak louder than words— shielding you from harm or making sure you’re always safe, especially when the dangers of his life as a former assassin creep in. still, he’d maintain his space, valuing his independence but always watching out for you.

• he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t put up with nonsense, so when it comes to household matters, he’s straightforward.

• if there’s a problem, he deals with it quickly, often in a practical manner. that said, he’d also likely appreciate the quiet comfort of being at home with you, especially after a long day of dealing with the outside world.

• while toji doesn’t come across as soft, there are moments when he shows his care in small ways— maybe brushing your hair out of your face or sharing a fleeting but tender look when you’re alone.

• he’s not one for big romantic gestures, but when he does something for you, it’s meaningful, like getting you your favorite drink or taking care of things when you’re overwhelmed.

• he may not always have a lot to say, but if you’re going through something difficult, toji is there for you. he’d stay silent, listening without judgment, and give you a quiet, reassuring presence.

• his support might not be verbal, but his actions would show that he’s there for the long haul, no matter what.

• if you two had kids, toji would be a hands-on (we are ignoring the fact that he is canonically an absent father), though unconventional, father.

• he’ll play it cool, acting like he’s not that interested, but you’ll catch him watching baby videos on his phone when he thinks you’re not looking.

• he’d teach them about survival, how to fight, and how to protect what’s theirs, all while being the solid, reliable figure they need, even if he doesn’t know how to express it all the time.

• toji’s not great with emotions, but he’ll secretly adore his kids, and you’ll know it by the way he keeps an eye on them from a distance or his subtle ways of making sure they have what they need, even when he won’t say it out loud.

• the trust between you two would be solid. toji would expect you to be honest with him, and he’d give you the same respect. you wouldn’t need to speak all the time to understand each other; there’d be a deep, unspoken connection, even in the moments of silence.

• don’t expect anything overly sweet or cheesy. toji’s idea of romance might involve getting you something practical, like new clothes for a dangerous mission or fixing something around the house.

• but those small acts of care would mean more to you than any grand gesture.

• life with toji is a rollercoaster of questionable financial choices.

• his idea of a budget is more of a vague suggestion. you could go to bed with a full savings account, and by morning, he’s bought a motorcycle, a new set of knives (because he deserves them), and a ridiculously expensive set of rare steaks— because, apparently, that’s how you live life.

• he will ALWAYS justify impulse buys with, "it was on sale."

• toji is very independent, and while he might not ask for help, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need it. if something breaks or goes wrong around the house, he’ll absolutely try to fix it himself first— no matter how unqualified he is for the job.

• broken sink? he’ll attempt to fix it with duct tape and some questionable youtube tutorials. the worst part? he’s usually successful… in a very "that’ll work for now" way.

• he doesn’t exactly plan grand romantic gestures, but when he does do something sweet, it’s always unexpected.

• like that time he brought home your favorite food when you didn’t ask for it, or when you were having a rough day, and he somehow found the exact book you were looking for, even though you didn’t mention it. it’s not always flashy, but it’s the little things that show he’s paying attention.

• also, this man is WAYY too confident.

• he’s usually pretty calm, but when he’s certain about something— whether it’s a decision, a plan, or a random idea— good luck trying to change his mind.

• he’ll insist he’s right, even if he’s 99% sure he’s not, and he’ll have a smug look on his face while doing it. it’s an annoying habit, but somehow, he pulls it off.

• toji’s idea of date night involves grabbing takeout and binge-watching random action movies, preferably while he’s armed with snacks he’s "borrowed" from the convenience store.

• he’s surprisingly a pretty good cook (when he takes his time).

• it’s usually something straightforward— steak, grilled chicken, or ramen— but when he actually tries, it’s surprisingly tasty. the best part? he’ll act like it’s no big deal, even though you know he’s secretly proud of himself for not burning anything.

• toji is your scary dog privilege.

• he exudes an aura of danger, which makes you feel untouchable. not that he tries to look intimidating, but it’s hard not to notice when people start treating you both with a certain amount of caution just because he’s around.

• whether it’s the way he moves, the way he talks, or just the fact that people know better than to cross him, you’ll get used to the unspoken respect (or fear) that follows him.

• he’s not the type to smother you with affection, but he has his ways of showing he cares. whether it’s leaving a random "you good?" text, adjusting your coat when he notices you’re cold, or letting you take the last slice of pizza (even though he’s definitely eyeing it).

• while toji is pretty sharp when it comes to violence or strategy, he’s totally lost when it comes to social situations or subtle hints.

• you’ll find yourself frequently having to explain things multiple times because he either didn’t catch your tone or completely misinterpreted the situation.

• if you try to drop hints, he’ll stare at you blankly, and then you’ll have to go into full detail before he understands what you’re saying. it’s frustrating, but also kind of endearing, considering how smart he is in other areas.

• although he’ll never openly say it, in those quiet moments when he watches you sleep or shares a rare smile, you know you’re his soft spot. toji fushiguro has made you his world, and his devotion to you speaks louder than words ever could. <33

[realsocialskills]

Disability-affirming growth mindset

Children are often taught to think “I can’t do that *yet*” as a form of encouraging growth mindset. That’s a really useful strategy when it’s applicable, and it also needs some nuance in order to be more disability-affirming. 

Growth mindset has to be grounded in reality.

Growth means that I am always learning new things and developing new skills and getting better at things. It doesn’t mean doubling down on pursuing impossible dreams; it means doing real things. 

Sometimes growth mindset means thinking “I can’t do that *yet*,” and continuing to try until I can.

Sometimes it’s more like, “This isn’t working. Maybe I need to do it another way.”

Or: “This isn’t working, and maybe it’s not going to work. What else can I do?”

Or: “I can’t do *that*, but I can do the important part a different way.”

Or: “I can do that with help.” and/or “Let’s figure out what supports would make it possible to do that.”

Or: “We can do that collaboratively, together.”

Or: “I could do that with appropriate assistive technology. Let’s figure out if some exists and/or if there’s something we could invent.”

In those instances, realizing that something isn’t going to work is part of how we find out what *can* work.

There are also cases in which growth mindset means realizing that something may not be a good use of our time and effort and resources. A skill that is broadly useful to nondisabled people might not be worth it to me, even if I’m technically capable of doing it. (For instance, handwriting is a useful skill for most people, but it’s always been so hard for me that it’s not really worth it. Losing the ability to  handwrite more than a few words at a time has freed up my abilities to do other things, like focus on typing words.)

There’s something powerful about seeing your body as it really is and working with it rather than against it. Sometimes figuring out what isn’t possible or what’s not worth the cost in time and effort is how we find areas where we can grow and flourish. 

Growth mindset means that I *don't sabotage my growth* by wasting time and effort pursuing impossible things. I don’t stand on a chair or a roof and expect believing in myself to make it possible to use my arms as wings and fly. If I want to fly, I need an airplane, and that’s ok. 

At the same time, I think that claiming the power of “yet” is really important for disabled people, and especially for people with developmental disabilities. 

Sometimes there can be a lot of pressure to see ourselves as incapable of doing things every time disability makes it harder or means we need to do things differently or it’s not obvious whether or how we could do the thing. 

Sometimes we get pressure not to try things unless there’s some certainty that we will be able to do them. (And for something as complex and poorly understood as developmental disabilities, there’s rarely much certainty. Having other people’s doubts limit what we’re allowed to try makes the world very, very small.)

Sometimes disability-affirming growth mindset means saying “I can’t do that, let’s do something else,” and sometimes it means saying, “I might be able to do that, and I’d like to try.” Sometimes it means saying, “I want to keep trying even though it’s harder for me and I’m not catching on as quickly and no one seems to know how to teach me.” or “I don’t know if this is going to work but I think it could, and at this point, I’d like to keep trying.” Or, “I know most people learn this by the time they’re four, and I know I’m much older than that, but I’d like to try to learn this too.”

Sometimes it means an adult claiming the right to learn how to read, or finding a dance studio where they’re willing to slow down enough for them to learn. Sometimes it means practicing a new skill in private while you’re figuring out if it’s something that makes sense for you. Sometimes it means asking around to other disabled people to see what their strategies have been. Sometimes it means demanding your right to accessibility and accommodations even when others don’t think you belong and don’t see you as capable of doing things in the space you want to be in.

[incomplete-leclerc]

　𝗣𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗬 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗜𝗖.　andrea kimi antonelli · #12

　　　cuddling with your best friend isn't weird, right?

genres : fluff ... best friend to lovers ... kimi x fem!reader.　 request : anon for kimi + “just never figured you for a little spoon.” for the 100 event.　word count : 0.6k.　warnings : none.　 note : okay we are so back 💪���� (kinda i hope, pls let me not disappear for a month after this).　　　( masterlist )　( taglist )

You knew Kimi like the back of your hand. Being best friends for too many years to count meant picking up on all the little things that others would have to dig deep to find out. Kimi was the one person who never took you by surprise, who you could read like an open book. 

But on the rare occasion, he still managed to catch you off guard.

“You want me to cuddle you?” you echoed the words that had left the boy’s mouth seconds ago, frozen in slight shock. 

It wasn’t the cuddling that particularly surprised you. Kimi was affectionate and so were you. Cuddling wasn’t foreign for you two— platonic cuddling, of course. But in terms of who was the big or little spoon, there were always silent set rules. Kimi seemed to always be the one spooning you whenever hugs turned into cuddles. His request to be the recipient was uncharacteristic for him. 

“Yes. Is that weird?” His tentative and slightly confused voice at your reaction made a smile start to form on your lips. Your best friend was adorable. Always clarifying and questioning as if the world was spinning too fast for him. It wasn’t that he was slow or unable to pick up on things, but rather he prioritized your comfort more than anything. Even if he knew what all your expressions and inflections meant in his head, sometimes he wondered if one day he would misjudge. It was always safer to just ask.

“For you? Maybe. Just never figured you for a little spoon,” you replied, your smile now growing into a grin, one that teased Kimi without words.

“Well, when you put it like that—“

You grabbed his arm and pulled quickly, yanking you both down onto your bed.

“What are you doing?” Kimi pried, rushed words falling from his lips as your arms quickly encircled around his torso.

“Cuddling you. Just like you wanted.” 

The smile that you gave Kimi— that self satisfactory mischievous one that he didn’t like to admit he adored so much— made his heart drop to his stomach. 

Hugs with you were never weird. Cuddles with you were never weird. Always in a platonic, best friend kind of way, naturally. Except, this suddenly didn’t feel like something best friends did. 

Heat crawled up Kimi’s neck as he tried desperately to ground himself to something before he made things weird. It was a classic cliche— that boys could never just stay friends with a girl. He had always joked about it with you in the past, proudly boasting how you both defied the odds. He remembered saying how he would never be able to see you in a romantic light. 

That was almost 5 years ago now, and the Kimi back then felt very different from the Kimi now. The one that you were holding in your arms, way too close for him to focus on anything else in the room except for you, you, you. 

Your gaze drifted over his look of surprise and the slight flush on his cheeks. You noticed him slowly start to relax in your hold after a few seconds, slow blinks of his brown eyes staring into yours. You couldn’t help but find it comforting, how he fit so well in your arms, curled up so close.

Kimi was the one person that you could read like an open book, and right now your eyes were skipping over the words, putting together the sentences in your brain, the understanding clear as day. 

Maybe what you had with Kimi wasn’t as platonic as you had thought.

[sheppyscribbles]

"Just through here," Beni murmured, holding open a door that Justin was sure hadn't been there a moment ago and beckoning him to enter. Together they stepped out of the hubbub of the Kitajing Night Market into ...

... well. It had to be a tavern. There were booths, tables, stools at the bar, a pass-through window to a kitchen. The aroma of meats and breads and grease wafted through the air. But it was all so very bright and shiny. Silvery metal gleamed from nearly every surface, polished to a lustrous sheen. Even the tables seemed to be lacquered with flecks of some precious stone or another.

"... Beni, this place must cost a fortune ..." Every table had its own salt cellar, for the Eight's sake ... next to a bottle of spices and tiny envelopes of pure sugar! The head table of the Barlovian royal hall was never graced with such excess! Justin was beginning to wish he hadn't mentioned feeling hungry so late at night.

But Beni just laughed and shook his head. "It's some kind of different world, I think. Or maybe a spell of, uh, plenitude? Is that a word in your language? Anyway, whatever it is, it's cheap and they're open late, so let's don't play harps for a cow about it." He smiled to the server. "Booth for two, please!"

The benches of the booth had leathery upholstery, possibly wyvern skin, but the grain was a bit off. They were stuffed with something unusually soft, and Justin kept adjusting how he sat, trying to figure out what it was. He fidgeted with the collar of his surcote as he tried to decipher the menu. The illustrations helped. "If this is another world, will they still accept our money?"

"They did the last time I came here." Beni leaned in, ears flicking softly from side to side. "I can order for you, if you want. Their specialty is ... you like minced meat, right? Like those steam buns Lady Violet served at that banquet after we cleared out the Temple of Ice? It's like that, but instead of a bun, they use little loaves of bread."

Justin felt like Beni's explanation made him understand the food even less, but he had the feeling that asking questions would only make things worse. He allowed Beni to place their order, and within ten minutes the server slid two piping hot plates onto the table in front of them.

"... Beni, what are these little dusty sticks?"

"Remember the papas roots the Runas like to eat? Same thing, but they're fried in oil instead of roasting. They've got seasoning on them, but they're even tastier with the red sauce." He picked up a glass bottle from the table and handed it to Justin.

"Red sauce, hm?" He looked at it dubiously. The sauce was as bright red as fresh blood, or the markings on Beni's muzzle.

"I mean, they call it ke-çap, but instead of fish they use a tame nightshade berry. -- it's not poisonous, though. I checked." Beni's whiskers twitched the way they did when he got sheepish.

In all honesty, Justin had been hoping for a simple dish of leftover porridge, but as he bit into one of the "fry" sticks ... it was crisp. Fluffy. Hot. Quite salty, although not enough to overpower the other spices. He could taste peppercorn, garlic ... was that turmeric? Whoever ran this place must have import connections beyond one's wildest dreams.

He carefully opened the bottle of the red "catch-up" sauce and tried to pour out a small amount. "Careful, it's thick--" One tap on the bottom of the bottle, and half of the sauce splattered onto the plate, drenching the fries. Justin made a strangled cry of alarm.

"So wasteful -- my apologies!"

"Don't worry about it! Spell of plentitudiny, remember?" Beni laughed warmly and dipped a few of his own fries in Justin's little red lake. With no one scolding him, Justin relaxed and ate a few more. The sauce was tangy, a little sweet, a bit savory. It did compliment the fries, in moderation.

The "burger," though ... burg did mean a fortress, and it was certainly big enough for the name. A seared hunk of minced meat as thick as his thumb, resting between two trenchers of bread along with lettuce leaves, pickled vegetables, onion slices, a bit of cheese, and ... "... these folk really love their nightshades, I see ..."

"Mush be a cultshural thing," Beni replied around a mouthful. He gulped. "Maybe it shows how tough they are."

Justin wasn't quite as brave; he figured the red sauce was enough derring-do for one supper, so he set the onion and the red berry aside before hefting the burger in his hands and risking a bite.

It was marvelous. The slight seared crust on the juicy minced meat patty, the crisp buttery toasted bread, the tangy burst of cold brine from the bit of pickled cucumber, the gentle bitterness of the lettuce, the savory taste and creamy mouthfeel of the sharp cheese just on the cusp of melting, all mingled into one glorious morsel, a polyphonic choir singing joyful madrigals in his mouth. He took his time chewing, experiencing each flavor by itself and in play with the others as they rolled back and forth across his tongue.

"Told you it was good." Beni smiled his little fox smile, watching the wonder ripple across Justin's face like waves from a skipped stone.

"To put it very lightly!" Justin laughed softly, a bit of weight coming off his shoulders. "Practically a royal dish. How did you find this place?"

Beni shrugged, tail flicking softly against the bench on his side. "Stumbled on it one night after helping case a local mansion. The door only shows up rarely, but when you said you woke up hungry, I couldn't help checking for it."

Justin gave Beni a wry little smile. "Luck was on our side, then?"

"What can I say?" Beni settled back in his seat and popped another fry into his muzzle. "I lead a charmed life."

how would one of your OCs react to a HUGE burger and delicious seasoned french fries?

[aqueerkettleofish]

How to Reboot the X-Men (and Magneto) in the Modern Era

Holy shit, I think I've figured it out.

The question is, and has been for about a decade, how can you do the X-Men in a modern setting?

The problem, of course, is that the relationship between Magneto and Professor X is integral to the concept. And Magneto, as a character, is anchored in time. He is a holocaust survivor-- if you try to make him born anytime after the 1930's, you're effectively making another character and calling him Magneto.

The McKellan movies dealt with this by making him an old man. The Fassbender ones were set in the past. But it's.... just too late now. WWII ended eighty years ago. Magneto would be at least fifteen years older than that, and the problem gets worse every year.

The comics, of course, have dealt with this by having Xavier in a body cloned by the Shi'ar, and Magneto got de-aged at one point. But adapting the story into a modern medium, you can't just start with your characters getting de-aged. (Captain America came with the concept built in, conveniently ignoring that his original icenap was only like 20 years.)

So here's my solution to the "How do you deal with Magneto being That Goddamn Old?"

You make him older.

He wasn't an adolescent during the Holocaust. Mid-twenties at least, maybe even mid-thirties. An educated, peaceful man, living in obscurity. Maybe even a rabbi. (I'm not going to elaborate here, because, honestly, I'm a goyim and this is backstory that needs to be filled in by a Jew, someone with a better knowledge of pre-Holocaust Jewish culture, or preferably both.)

But then Shit Happens, and he can no longer be a peaceful man. It doesn't help that, of course, in a universe with mutants, Hitler goes after them as well. Erik Lehnsherr goes from obscurity into legend. He fights. And he speaks. And he writes.

Towards the end of the war, he pulls some Big Hero Shit with the aid of other mutants, the resistance, and maybe even Captain America, and he saves hundreds of lives, but his position is utterly destroyed.

And our modern, younger, Charles Xavier-- who is now about the age Erik was when he was killed-- idolizes him. He's studied every word the man wrote, has films of his speeches. The X-Men are trained as much by Magneto as they are Xavier.

And you leave it like that. For a season of the series, or the first movie. Maybe even tease the fans with an imposter.

And then... dun dun dun.... time travel fuckery.

Those "other mutants" at Magneto's last stand? Were the modern X-Men. They got shunted back in time, and because every one of them know the history, they realize that the only reason all those lives were saved is because they were there to help. The event that obliterates the location? Is actually caused by the time-jump back to the future, and they bring Erik along. No damage to the timeline; no body was ever found. ("Just this once, everybody lives!")

And once he reaches the future and sees how mutants are still being treated? He's furious. And now we've got the proper Xavier/Magneto dynamic fully cemented, except now all of the X-Men are conflicted. You can even have the dramatic split where some of the X-Men go "fuck it, he's right."

[treacheryinblue]

「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter four

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, eventual smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 11k

masterlist

You told him everything. 

Well, mostly everything. You had skipped over some of the more gritty details after noticing how Noah’s hands would clench into fists anytime there was a vague mention of someone laying a malicious finger on you. He was protective of you, for reasons unknown, but you figured it wasn't best to question him in the middle of your sob story. It wasn't his sympathy you wanted, anyway, nor his pity. 

You told him of how your father basically sold you to Vane in a bid to grow his empire. He saw how quickly Vane was coming into his own power, all by striking fear into others, and your father thought it best to align with him for his own selfish reasons. Your father was getting older and didn't want his legacy to falter. What better way to do that than to promise Vane his own flesh and blood? He didn't give a shit about you, his only daughter. He didn't care about how cruel Vane could be or how you had tried to escape on more than one occasion. Honestly, you had never made a true motivated attempt until the last time when the opportunity simply happened to present itself. Every other time you had been too scared, too ill prepared, too slow. 

You told him about Vane’s business ventures; the drugs, the weapons, the aspiration to move to 'bigger and better things’, so Vane had said. You had no idea what that meant. What went beyond your typical drug and weapon smuggling? A few ideas popped into your head when you thought about it long enough but you didn't want to believe Vane was that monstrous of a person. But, maybe he was. Years of your life were wasted on him and you still felt as if you barely knew the menace. 

Finally, you told him about what spawned your move across the country. The fight for your life that had ended with you taking one instead. Vane’s. A few stabs to his body in the heat of the moment had done the trick. This was also where you left out the more gory details again. Not just for the benefit of Noah’s temper, but for your own past trauma. It wasn't something you wanted to relive. 

“No one tried to help you?” Noah pondered aloud after you fell silent. You looked at him, offered a sympathetic smile, and shook your head. 

“No one could. I was cut off from everyone who wasn't my family or in Vane’s inner circle.”

“But your friend, the one you said you moved here for?”

You took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. To say that you were exhausted would've been an understatement and the constant curious questions weren't helping. The morning light was already beginning to shine through your window, casting a faint golden glow across your living room where you sat with Noah. He had finally abandoned the Nocturnal mask again, once more returning to the mildly nerdy but kind neighbor you had watched from your window. 

“I've known Mel since I was a kid but we drifted apart once Vane stepped into my life. We spoke whenever possible, if possible, but then when I found out she had moved here…it's the only place I thought to go.” Another glance was taken his way, his brows furrowed as he tried to put all of the crumbled pieces of your life together. Good luck. 

“She didn't know anything about what was happening,” you concluded before Noah could add Melinda to his list of people to make disappear. “And she still doesn't…which I’d like to keep that way.” 

Noah nodded in understanding. You knew he would be able to relate with your need to keep the people closest to you safe, and since all you had was Mel, she needed to be kept far, far away from all of this. Even if that meant you having to uproot your life again for her sake. 

“I'm going to keep you safe, okay?” Noah reached over the couch cushion that separated you and lightly cradled your jaw. You couldn't help but to nuzzle into his palm as the warmth of his skin instantly calmed you, allowing you to take in a much needed deep breath. “I'll talk to Jolly. We’ll get it figured out and–”

“No! Noah, no.” You quickly interjected, your eyes widening. You snatched his hand from your cheek but kept it within your grasp, the hold you had on him firm. “No one else can know. Please. Don't tell him.” 

“You can trust Jolly the same as you trust me. I've known him nearly my entire life. He wouldn't–”

Again you cut him off with a strong shake of your head. “Do not tell him, Noah. Promise me that you won't. I can't run the risk of someone else possibly getting hurt because of me.” 

Noah was looking at you with great confusion. You could see it swimming within his eyes, the words to make digging questions not forming just right to actually be spoken. He opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. 

“If you believe me like you say you do, then this has to stay between us.”

“And what am I supposed to tell him about who you are?” 

You heavily sighed, your head falling back against the couch cushions in near defeat. Shrugging as your hands scrubbed over your face, you took a few seconds for yourself before looking at him again. He was beautiful, even when his eyes were heavy from lack of sleep and he was still looking at you as if you were a puzzle to figure out. You hated it. No one was supposed to want to know all the inner workings of you. A man like Noah was going to be the death of you. 

“I don't know,” you finally replied. “Just…tell him that I showed you family pictures or something to prove who I am. Tell him those guys were just…debt collectors. I don't know.” 

Noah rolled his eyes and lightly laughed under his breath. “Debt collectors,” he repeated in disbelief. “Those guys could only be debt collectors if they were coming to take one of your organs as payment.” 

You couldn't help but to laugh along with him because you knew how horrible of a lie that was. Although, maybe it was just bad enough to be believable. 

X X X 

It wasn't long ago that you dreaded being at Nocturnal and wished to remain employed at Red’s only. After the most recent turn of events, though, you were constantly thinking about what was happening at the club. Noah was always on your mind. What was he doing? Had he told Jolly? Was he truly an ally? Well, you had already revealed all of your closest secrets, so it wasn't as if the latter mattered too much now. You were just hoping he was someone you could actually trust and rely on. Your gut told you that he was exactly that, but you could never be too sure. 

Taking a sharp right, you hustled into Red’s home with a fury to get out of the cold. You were early, and only realized this after checking your phone too late that morning. Red had messaged you to say he had a meeting and for you to arrive later than your original agreed upon daily time. But since you were already on the subway at that point, you decided to head in and just start helping out wherever you could. What was an extra hour really? 

It was quiet around the house, though you could hear the faint murmur of voices coming from Red’s office. You passed by it without pause since you didn't want to be caught as a snoop, and instead began gathering the laundry from the designated room not much further down the hall. As you were folding a fresh load in the sitting room, an older man with a suit on waltzed in, phone and briefcase in hand. He regarded you with a passive smile, which you returned with one of your own. 

“Are you another one of Red’s grandchildren? I've yet to meet them all.” He inquired after a few beats, his hands now clasped down at his waist and his attention fully on you. 

You softly laughed and shook your head. “I work for him,” you explained. “But I'm sure I see him a lot more than any of his grandchildren do.” 

The man chuckled before taking a quick glance over his shoulder. “I wouldn't say that too loud or else one of them may hear you.”

“Oh…” you glanced over your shoulder. “Is one visiting now?”

You had never encountered any of Red’s family. He's spoken of them, not always too fondly, and you've seen pictures, yet you've never crossed paths. Which wasn't too unusual to you considering you worked the same time during the day as most people also did. 

The man released a heavy breath as he nodded. “Nicholas, his youngest. Watch out for that one. He has a liking for…trouble.” 

His final words were quickly murmured because a door heavily closing could be heard throughout the entire lower level of the city mansion. The suddenness of it caused you to jump slightly, your eyes darting to the entryway of the sitting room. A short moment later, a figure appeared that you only recognized from a family photo hanging on Red’s wall. The guy was older now, but you remembered the unique shade of his eyes. 

“I'm guessing your Red’s newest wife?” He looked you up and down with disinterest, then turned to the other man. “That would make…what? Wife number four?” 

Did people really not know that Red had other employees? 

The man said nothing beyond a faint grunt of acknowledgment, his focus only on his phone that he was quickly typing away on. He was probably trying to ignore Nicholas, and you couldn't say you blamed him. There was something about Red’s youngest grandchild that rubbed you the wrong way right off the bat. 

“I'm definitely not his wife,” you quickly defended. 

“No…no, you're not.” A slight smirk appeared over his lips. You noticed the way his eyes traveled you from head to toe again, but this time with a bit more intrigue. His gaze lingered much too long on your chest for your liking, though you were thankful for the crew neck sweater you had tossed on. At least it wasn't anything low cut. 

You forced a tight smile, returning to the laundry. You could still feel Nicholas' sights on you. There was also what sounded like a click every now and then, and a brief glance his way showed you the zippo lighter in his grasp. Jesus Christ, what was with this guy? 

Appearing unfazed, you loaded the folded laundry back into the basket to be carried away to the upstairs closets. Just as you were going to lift said basket, though, the sound of Red’s cane hitting the hardwood floor garnered your attention. He seemed surprised to see you, maybe even a little perturbed by your presence. He still plastered on a smile of his own, but that didn’t stop the tension in the room from remaining. 

“Nicholas. What are you still doing here?” Red held a stern look over his grandson, his tone unable to hide his aggravation. “I thought you had another meeting to rush to.”

Still flipping the lighter, he shrugged. “I was just introducing myself to your new…”

“Assistant,” you finished the sentence for him. If you could even call yourself that. Sometimes “housekeeper” felt too proper for what you did. 

“Assistant,” Nicholas repeated with an amused grin. 

Red sighed as he walked towards Nicholas with the intent on ushering him out. He murmured a few choice words to him, most of which you couldn't make out, but you could assume. 

“I'll be sure to stop by more often to see how things are going with you,” Nicholas said. 

The statement was directed at you, but you didn't look his way again. He set you on edge and you couldn't really place your finger on why. You had been around enough psychopaths to know one when you saw one, so your plan was to steer clear.  

Excusing yourself from the suit man with nothing more than a mumble, you carried the laundry basket up to the second floor to be put away. Even a floor up you could still hear the bickering of Red and his grandson on the front step. As their voices grew in volume, so did your curiosity. 

Slowly, you inched closer and closer to the window that was right above where they stood. Nicholas' jaw was clenched, his bright eyes glaring daggers at the older man you had become fond of. Red was going in on him, but you could unfortunately only make out a few words here and there. 

“– even think about it.”

“– brain of – ruin everything –”

“I mean it, Nicholas. – out of line.” 

You watched Red’s hands move haphazardly with his words, though his back was to you so you couldn't see his expression. You could only imagine his face was the same shade of his namesake. 

Quickly, you stepped out from in front of the window when Red turned to head back inside, but not before Nicholas’ eyes shifted to you. You pressed yourself against the wall, heart pounding within your chest for having just been caught. Again. Why the fuck were you so bad at this sneaking around thing? 

Deep breath in, slowly out. Deep breath in, slowly out. You repeated this a few times until you assumed enough time had passed for Nicholas to clear out. Oh, but of course, you were wrong. 

Your head slowly dropped into view of the window again, curious eyes immediately going to where Nicholas and Red had been on the doorstep. Empty. With your gaze quickly dancing around, you could feel the anxiety releasing from your body, only until you spotted him a little further up the sidewalk. 

Nicholas stood at the waist-high gate, his sights set directly on you. You nervously swallowed because there was no way to explain this away. No way to say that you hadn't been eavesdropping. The expression Nicholas wore wasn't one of anger, though. He appeared more so amused as he watched you through the second story window. The joy of catching you lighting up his eyes.  

X X X 

A month quickly passed and thankfully without incident. No one stopping by the club to see if you were there. No random phone calls or messages like you were partly expecting. All seemed…normal. At least, for the most part. 

Things with Noah were a little odd at times, though. You didn't see him outside of Nocturnal very much, and you hated to admit that you kind of…missed him. Would you be mad to wake up again and find him in your living room? Nope. It was better than gazing out your window for a glimpse of him like some love sick stalker. 

He even kept his distance when you were working together. You weren't really sure how that equaled keeping you safe, but you assumed there was some sort of method to his madness. 

YOU: You should get some plants or a pet or something. 

YOU: Staring at your empty living room is kinda boring sometimes. Liven it up a bit. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: I'll be sure to let my interior designer know that my Peeping Tom would like some visual stimulation. 

You chuckled to yourself, following it up with an eye roll at Noah’s sarcastic response. It wasn't too often that he would stop being serious long enough to joke back with you, but it always made you smile when he did. 

YOU: I'm being dragged out with Melinda tonight for drinks. Do you want to come? 

You didn't even want to admit how long it took you to pluck up the courage to ask that. Nothing weird about the offer, right? Just two friends hanging out with other people. Casual. Normal. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: I'm working later. Sorry. Maybe next time. 

Like he didn't basically make his own schedule. Jackass. You heaved an irritated sigh while giving the response a thumbs down so he at least knew you read it. No other messages were exchanged. 

“Let's just go to Limelight!” You whined as you tugged on Mel’s hand in an attempt to drag her across the street later that night. 

Your best friend was hell bent on going to Nocturnal despite your pleas to go anywhere else. Not only did you not want to spend time at work while off the clock, but you also didn't want to see Noah. It was only a few days ago that you finally caved and told Melinda about how he worked there with you and was basically your boss. Of course, you left out all the extra details, like how he broke into your house and also had an affinity for cornering and touching you. You figured those weren't really too important. She was ecstatic, just as expected. 

“Ugh! Limelight is so lame and you know it! All they do is play shitty Taylor Swift remixes and –”

“Okay, yeah! Maybe! But they have those fun little drinks they drop a glow stick into!” 

Melinda deadpanned her expression and stared at you as if to say 'fucking really?’. You dramatically groaned at her silent response, the pregame drinks in your system already working their magic to help you loosen up. 

“Fine! Let's go to stupid Nocturnal.” 

Skipping the line and getting into the club was a breeze since the bouncer obviously knew you. The angry complaints from the patrons waiting were of no concern to either of you and you thanked him with a quick kiss to the cheek. Marco appeared big and bad due to his rather large stature, but he and his boyfriend liked to foster Greyhounds and go antique hunting on the weekends. He was the nicest guy you had ever met. But would he punch someone in the gut if necessary? Yes. You had seen it more than once. 

You giggled along with Melinda as you both sauntered down the long red-lit hallway that led to the main area of the club. Even though you didn't really want to be at your place of work on your day off, you weren't going to let it ruin your mood. Nope, nothing and no one was going to fuck it up. Not even…

“Noah,” you gasped as soon as you stepped into the thunderous sounds of Nocturnal, only to come face to face with your neighbor slash boss slash protector? Fuck, you had no idea what the hell he was to you. 

“Jesus Christ, you're even taller in person.” Melinda looked him up and down unapologetically, but his eyes were set on you. 

Considering you had just fully crashed into him, though, that wasn't surprising. 

“Please tell me this is not where you would've taken me to get drinks.” His tone read as serious but you could see the faint little smirk on the corners of his lips. 

Shaking your head, you realized how close you still were to him and took half a step back. You didn't want to. You actually wanted to be as close as you possibly could. Preferably so close that he was insi–

“No,” you finally voiced before you could finish that thought. “We were going to go to Aqua but the line was ridiculous, and Mel refused to go to Limelight, so here we are.” 

Noah slowly nodded. “On your day off.”

“On my day off,” you repeated with a sideways glance to Mel. 

The frustration in Noah’s eyes was evident, at least to you. He released a long breath, looked left and right as if in search of someone, then settled his gaze back on yours. Oh, how you could so easily get lost in the warm brown of his eyes. Even with the red lights of Nocturnal drowning out most colors, that was one they couldn't touch. 

Leaning down a bit closer, probably only just a fraction of an inch but enough to cause your breath to hitch, Noah lowered his tone for only you to hear. 

“Be careful,” he warned, worry flaring in his eyes. “I'll be watching.” 

Most would regard his words as a threat, but you knew their true meaning. He would be looking out for you. Keeping you safe, just as he promised. Although you wanted to argue that you could take care of yourself (your stubbornness knew no bounds), you both knew otherwise. Noah had so easily broken into your apartment. No alarms had been sounded, no uneasy tingling to signal to you that you hadn't been alone. Nothing. So, maybe you did need another set of eyes watching your back. 

“That was…weird,” Melinda said loud enough for you to hear over the heavy bass of the music once Noah had disappeared into the sea of people. “Is he always so tense?” 

You raised your brows as you looked at her, laughing. “You have no idea.”

“Anywho!” She quickly changed the subject while guiding your shoulder forward. “We need drinks!” 

As much as you loved to drink, you didn’t do it nearly to the extent as you used to. It was a helpful tool when you were with Vane to help drown out the pain of actually being with him, one that lessened in frequency once you were free. Not just because you didn't need the mental escape anymore, but because keeping your senses dulled could be dangerous. The last thing you needed was someone coming for you when you were a wine bottle deep. 

You winced as the alcohol burned down your throat before making your face twist in disgust. It was your third shot and you still weren't numb to its effects yet. God, you really hated tequila. 

“This is horrible,” you shivered while pushing the miniature glass away from yourself. 

“Don't be such a sourpuss,” Melinda struggled to speak through her own grimace. “It's great!” 

“Not the word I'd use to describe it but sure.” 

“What's got your panties in a twist tonight? I can basically see the storm cloud following you around.” 

You cut a look at Mel and shook your head to silently relay that you didn’t want to talk about it. Really, you'd love to talk about it, though. You'd love nothing more than to be able to come clean about everything happening but you weren't going to put Melinda in the middle of it. Selfishly doing just that to Noah was bad enough. 

“I'm just tired,” you shrugged. “Haven't really been sleeping well.” 

Not entirely a lie. 

“Prepare to wake up even more tired tomorrow because we're partying tonight!” 

Melinda reached for your hand and was dragging you to the dance floor without another word. You inwardly groaned, already annoyed with all the sweaty bodies bumping into you and making you press closer to your best friend. It was odd for you to be such a buzzkill, even you knew this, but everything happening was truly just weighing on you. 

You spent most days terrified. Leaving your apartment was basically a thing of the past unless you were going to and from work. With that came you bumming rides off Noah if your schedules aligned or letting him know when you left and when you arrived at your destination. That was his idea, not yours. You would normally be extremely annoyed with his overprotective nature but you understood. And that's how it would remain until he inevitably crossed a line. 

Shaking out your hands, you tried your best to loosen up. The alcohol helped, your head already swimming and your body swaying to the music. It was just hard to forget about it all completely. You did a damn good job at masking it, though. 

“I can't believe you get to work here!” Melinda yelled over the music, her arms above her head. “It’s so much fun!”

You laughed as you did a turn along with her, your hands settling loosely on her waist. “It's not like I get to hang out on the dance floor all night!” 

Melinda shrugged, a hand waving off another one of your downer comments. 

The lights on the dance floor shifted from red to blue to purple in random patterns, making it hard to focus on the familiar face of your best friend. You assumed there was a point to this so people could really lose their inhibitions but Melinda wasn't who you wanted to lose them with. 

Your eyes cut up to the ceiling where you knew a camera was mounted. He was watching, just as he said he would be. Even with Noah being floors and rooms away, you could still feel his heavy gaze. You debated putting on a show for him like you did during the housewarming party at your apartment not too long ago, but ultimately decided against it. Too many people. The last thing you wanted was some random guy near you to think you were trying to lure him in. 

Eyes closed and fingers running through your hair, you tried to let the music take you. The bass hummed through you, vibrating from your head to your toes in a sensation that actually did make it easier to get lost in. When you turned around and opened your eyes again, you didn't see Melinda right away. You did a quick glance before finding her in the arms of some college-age looking guy with bleached hair and wandering hands that made you grimace. Gross. 

Well, she seemed thoroughly distracted, so you decided this was the best moment to take your leave from the dance floor. You maneuvered your way back through the crowd of people and took solace at the bar, close to where the servers would be gathering their drinks. 

“Love us so much that you had to come hang on your night off?” Shauna grinned as she filled her tray, sending a wink your way. 

“Oh yeah,” you teased. “Just can't get enough.”

“Guy at the other end of the bar has been looking at you, by the way.” 

Following her line of sight, you tilted your head enough to see the newly discovered light eyes of Red’s grandson. Nicholas, was it? Your brows furrowed in slight confusion, an expression you only wore for a split second. 

“I think he's related to my other boss,” you explained with a shrug. “He's probably trying to figure out where he knows me from.” 

At least, that's what you were telling yourself. 

“Well, I think he figured it out because he's on his way down.” Shauna gave you a gentle bump with her hip as she sauntered away to serve her drinks, leaving you with no one to distract yourself with for when Nicholas ultimately closed the space. 

Which he did in a matter of seconds. 

“Imagine all the people to run into,” he began with a lighthearted chuckle. Funny how just a few weeks ago he was sizing you up, and now he was acting like you were a long time friend. 

“Yeah, imagine that.” 

“Do you come here often?” 

“Wow, is that really the line you're going to open with?” You laugh, both brows raising at him. 

Nicholas shrugged in a nonchalant manner, his own faint laughter still escaping. He was looking at you again as if he was trying to read who you were right away, possibly like he knew something you didn't. It made you uneasy, but what could truly happen when you were surrounded by hundreds of people? 

“I thought it was pretty original. Creative, even.” 

“Well, I already know that you don't come here often,” you pivoted. “So what could be the reason you're here tonight?” 

Arching a thick brow of his own, he squinted ever so slightly before motioning for the bartender - Paul - to come down your way. 

“I'll have a bourbon and she'll take…” Nicholas looked your way with an expectant stare. 

“She'll take a gin and tonic, and she’ll also buy her own drink.” 

Nicholas flinched playfully, his hand grasping at where his heart was. “Oof, that's gonna leave a mark,” he teased. 

“Keep avoiding my question and I'm going to assume you came here to see me.” 

You weren't flirting…were you? No, of course not. You were going to explain it away by saying it was just the drinks in your system making you extra bold. You had no interest in Nicholas. You didn't even know him. 

You didn't know Noah at first either and you still wanted to fuc– 

Nope. That was just another thought you were going to prevent yourself from fully manifesting. 

Nicholas nudged your glass towards you once the drinks were set down. “What if I did?” 

Taking in the way you only stared at him, slowly blinking with bemusement, Nicholas shook his head. “I just came to scope out the scenery,” he explained. “Seeing you here is merely a…happy coincidence.”

You wanted to call ‘bullshit’, but you kept it in. For now. At least he wasn't giving you the creeps like your last encounter. 

It was then that you realized Nicholas was looking past you, his lips again pulling up into a grin. You didn't need to glance back to see who he was staring at because you knew as soon as a hand was lightly pressed to your lower back. 

A warmth immediately spread through you and it took whatever self control you still had to not lean back into his touch. 

“Ruffilo,” Noah greeted with a blatant disinterest. “Last I checked, you were banned from Nocturnal.”

Your eyes widened but you remained silent, your focus instead falling onto the drink you were now taking a generous swallow from. 

Noah leaned down closer to your ear, his voice dropping as he relayed the explanation. “He almost set VIP on fire last time he was here.”

“Accidentally,” Nicholas quickly defended, his tone clipped. 

“That still has yet to be determined.” 

“I see you're just as much of an asshole as you've always been, King.” The name Noah used while in the club was spoken with a condescending wretch, just before Nicholas tilted his drink back to finish off the remnants. 

Noah gave a sideways smirk, his fingers still splayed across your lower back. They occasionally brushed your bare skin from where your shirt had ridden up, and you assumed this wasn't done on accident. “Possibly even more.” 

Nicholas glanced back and forth between the two of you, realization finally hitting him. “Oh, that's rich. You're so predictable sometimes,” he chuckled to himself. 

What the fuck was going on? It was clear that these two men had some amount of bad blood between them, but to what extent? You had no idea. You wanted to tell Noah that it was okay, that Nicholas was just harmlessly talking to you, though the clench of his jaw and the hard set of his brow told you to not. Despite how angry Noah was, he was doing his best to keep it in check. 

“Allow me to see you out?” Noah suggested, although you knew it was more of a demand. 

Nicholas didn't put up a fuss as Noah stepped around you and motioned towards the exit of the club. He didn't so much as even look back your way before he was swallowed by the crowd again, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you murmured to yourself. Paul came stepping up in front of you from behind the bar a short moment later, both of his brows raised in an expression of curiosity. 

“I'm assuming you didn't know who that was?” 

Shaking your head, you quickly finished your own drink. You were beginning to come to terms with the fact that you didn't give a fuck anymore. Every time you turned around there was someone new to be weary of. 

“Can I just get a shot of whatever, please?” 

X X X

What was it about you allowing strong men to overtake your life? Your father, Vane, and now Noah to a certain degree. Why? 

You kept telling yourself that the first two were only out for themselves, whereas Noah was trying to help you. That made it okay to let him be so controlling, right? It wasn't like you were making any effort to stop him. 

This wasn't just history repeating itself. Not with Noah. He was funny and kind and had never truly hurt you even when given the prime opportunity to do so. He was keeping you safe. Maybe he was simply a man of his word and took promises seriously. Maybe he would see it through that you were kept out of harm's way. 

These were the things that you kept trying to tell yourself. Was it helping to convince you? Eh, sort of. 

“There you are,” Noah breathed, the sound of a door softly closing and locking to follow. 

You didn’t even remember how you got up here. Wherever ‘here’ was. Your eyes slowly fluttered open to make immediate contact with a light hanging above you, making you slightly wince. It was dim, just as every light in Nocturnal was, but it was still bright enough to force you to turn your head away. 

“You had me worried that trouble had found you again.” 

You knew you were still in the club. The pounding of the bass behind the closed door told you this. Your hand moved at your side as you lifted it to push your hair from your face, though it hit a hard object in the process. The same object, or so you assumed, then made a soft collision with your hip before disappearing again. 

Wait. You now vaguely remember finding the employees only lounge area and making yourself comfortable. It used to be part of a VIP section on the opposite side of the one now currently used, but at some point before your time at Nocturnal it had changed to somewhere employees occasionally came to relax. From what you could tell, it wasn't used very often. 

The hard surface you were laying on must be the pool table. The object your hand hit, one of the colorful billiard balls. 

“Trouble does always have a way of seeking me out,” you retorted after a long moment. Your eyes cut to where you could sense him standing because maybe he was currently the trouble that had found you this time. 

Noah paused at the end of the pool table, his fingers lightly caressing your ankle and working his way up along your calf. Chills formed in their wake, your body immediately coming to life for him. You had been on the verge of fully passing out only moments prior, but now that he was there, you felt like you could run a marathon. 

“Or maybe you attract trouble.” 

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you silently eyed him. His hair had previously been styled back away from his face, but the forecasted rain had clearly loosened the strands that now hung at his cheekbones. His lips were slightly parted and just begging to be abused by your own, just as the heavily tattooed skin of his neck was. You wanted to know how quickly he would lose his stoic control at your hands…and mouth. 

Both inked hands closed around your calves so he could tug your body closer to the edge of the pool table. Your legs would've been dangling off had they not been bent to close in at his hips once he released you, only to lean over your upper body. One hand planted itself by your head to support his weight as the other trailed slowly along the side of your thigh, over your hip, and all the way up to your face where he cradled your jaw. 

Your breathing stalled as your emotions went into overdrive. Just the feeling of his skin against yours could make you lose all control, which you knew was very bad, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You wanted him. Every piece, every inch. And you could tell by the way he was looking down at you that he wanted you too. 

“Why did you come up here?” His voice was soft and low as his eyes traveled every detail of your face. 

It took you a second to process his question, but you eventually found your words and swallowed in preparation. “I wanted to be somewhere quiet,” you nearly whispered. “And I know the cameras aren't routinely checked here.” 

“Were you trying to hide from me?” 

There's a flash of pain within his dark eyes and you want to soothe whatever unpleasant thought just ran through his mind. 

“No,” you exhaled slowly. “I knew you'd find me.” 

And just like that, the pain you noticed was extinguished and replaced by something much softer.  

Suddenly his lips were on yours in a collision of desperate need. There was nothing slow and tantalizing about the kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, heavy breaths taken when able to, but those were far and few in between. You arched up into him and your hips rubbed against his, the friction forcing a groan from deep within Noah’s chest. 

Oh, you wanted to hear that sound again. 

A strong hand grasped the back of your neck as your own fingers dragged along his chest, eager to push his shirt up. You only got as far as slipping your hands beneath the dark fabric, both of your tongues still working in tandem in an attempt to dominate the other. Fuck, he tasted so good, but felt even better. 

The hem of your skirt was bunched at the top of your thighs, allowing you easier motion to grind up against the man you should be terrified of. Fat chance of that when he could get this sort of reaction out of you. And you him, considering the hard bulge you felt pressed right between your thighs. 

Noah broke from your lips so he could hungrily kiss along your jaw and neck. His hand slid around to grip your throat in a firm hold; not enough to hurt, but just enough to drag a whimper from you. Every nerve within your body was on fire. They threatened to fully combust the longer Noah teased your delicate skin, leaving you a writhing mess beneath him. 

“Is this allowed?” You heard the words before you even realized you had spoken them. 

“What?” Noah’s voice was slightly muffled from where he was now kissing along the exposed portions of your chest. His free hand had somehow dipped down between your thighs without you noticing, giving him free rein to stroke the sensitive skin. 

“This…” you swallowed, silently begging for him to bring his fingers closer to where you knew you were wet and ready for him. “Fucking one of your employees?” 

You felt him smile before he lifted his head enough for you to actually see it too. His pupils were blown, lips swollen from the forceful kissing you had both just indulged in. 

It was then that you felt his fingertips graze the thin fabric of your panties, his eyes further narrowing in on your own. He had obviously noticed how wet you were. You were sure he felt it but you had zero shame. Just looking at him most days could get your blood boiling. 

Noah smirked, his fingers still drawing slow and taunting designs over the damp fabric. “Who said anything about fucking?” 

What. The. Fuck. 

You squinted up at him in confusion. Your head was still swimming and you felt like you were in a haze, but you knew damn well you weren't imagining this. No way was this a dream. 

The hold he had on your throat tightened and his hips forcefully pushed forward into yours. Your mouth fell open, brows knitting together as you did your best to swallow all the noises you wanted to make. Noah then loosened his grip on your neck, his lips lowering back to yours for a kiss that was the exact opposite of what they had been. It was gentle and slow, as if he was savoring your taste this time instead of trying to devour you. 

“When we fuck for the first time,” he murmured low, “you're going to remember it.” 

Noah stood to his full height, his hands caressing the sides of your thighs one last time before he was tugging your skirt down to return you to a mostly modest state. 

“Why wouldn't I remember it?” 

He quirked a brow at you as he took a step back and began to straighten out his clothing, as well as adjust the bulge in his dark pants. “I watched you order a handful of drinks and take multiple shots,” he stated. “I'd rather avoid the whole ‘did we have sex last night?’ conversation in the morning if I were to fuck you right now.” 

You rolled your eyes, your body shooting up into a sitting position so you could follow his lead with trying to appear more presentable. The way he worded what he had said made you inwardly grimace. Was it just an excuse not to fuck you whether drunk or sober? Considering you had been sober the last couple of times he initiated anything between the two of you, you were beginning to think he was just…bored. 

“I also don't want to take advantage of you.” 

Your eyes cut up to his from under your lashes, lips pressed into a thin line that accurately portrayed your annoyance. What a line that was. 

“I can make decisions for myself,” you grumbled before carefully sliding off the edge of the pool table. Noah was quick to reach for your elbow when you stumbled a bit, his much larger form helping to steady you. 

“Right, because you're very much not out of it right now.” 

Okay, fine. Maybe he was right and you weren't as sober as you liked to believe you were. Didn't mean you were going to admit it though. 

You opted to simply remain silent. He could kiss your ass. 

Noah released a heavy sigh as he stared at you, his shoulders dropping in defeat. His hand remained wrapped around your elbow even when you refused to meet his gaze now. But what did he expect? You were embarrassed. 

“Let me get you home,” he spoke after leaning down to plant a kiss to the crown of your head, his grip on your arm tightening so he could pull you in closer. 

One more thing you weren't going to admit was how that small gesture had made your stomach do a somersault. 

X X X 

The next morning you were sporting a massive hangover. Who was shocked? Not you. 

You groaned as you tossed and turned in bed, pulled the comforter over your head, and tried your best to block out the annoying as fuck dinging. What the hell even was that? 

“Fucking hell,” you grumbled. Tossing the blankets back, you then realized it was your phone going off, to which you quickly sat up and reached for it. 

You had five missed texts from Red, seven from Mel, and one from Noah. Your eyes shifted to the top corner of your phone screen so you could check the time, your heart dropping to your ass when you saw it was well after noon. 

Fuck! You had missed work. No wonder Red was blowing up your phone. You were surprised he hadn't called the police to do a wellness check yet. Not once had you ever been late to his house. Early, yes. Late, never. 

YOU: I'm so sorry! I was feeling a bit under the weather and didn't realize I had slept through my alarm. I'm on my way right now! 

Red responded within a matter of seconds, his punctuality barely giving you the time to even drag yourself out of bed. 

RED: No need to worry about today. I'm just glad you're alright. Please rest and do give me a call if you need anything. -R

Well, at least that meant you didn't have to be anywhere now. You heavily sighed as you dropped back against your bed again, mentally preparing yourself for whatever nonsense Melinda had texted you. Actually…you were going to deal with that later. Instead you went right for the single message from Noah. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: Let me know when you're awake. There's some aspirin and a glass of water on your nightstand. I'll be at the club if you need me. 

A smile crept over your lips as you looked to your bedside table where a bottle of pain medication and a glass of water sat, just as he had said. While you didn't remember all of last night, it would've been impossible for you to forget the weight of his body on yours or how he had helped you up to your apartment in the early morning hours. 

But this also meant that you remembered asking him to stay with you…which you assumed he had declined considering there was no indication that anyone had slept in your bed other than you. Fuck, that was going to haunt you for the rest of time. 

You downed the aspirin in a single gulp, hoping and praying that it would ease the pressure in your head as soon as possible. After responding to Mel’s multiple angry messages about how the guy she met at Nocturnal sucked, you finally ventured out of your room to find something to eat. That quest left you mostly empty handed since all you could really find was a strawberry Nutrigrain bar. Yeah, you really needed to go grocery shopping. 

Snack in hand and your arms crossed over your chest for warmth, you slowly approached the large window in your apartment. Noah’s apartment across the breeze way was empty as far as you could tell, just as it typically was. You studied the basic items in eyesight: couch, television, lamp, a plant. You paused while bringing the Nutrigrain bar up for another bite. A plant? 

A small side table was now positioned off to the left of the window and on top of it was a potted plant. The leaves were bright green with flecks of white that you assumed were flowers beginning to bloom. You couldn't stop the smile from overtaking your lips before you rushed back to your room to grab your phone. 

Noah had put that plant there for you. There wasn't a doubt in your mind about it. It couldn't just be a coincidence that you brought up needing some “visual stimulation”, as he would say, and then a plant appears. 

You immediately found his name in your contacts and tapped the option to call him. It only rang a couple of times before his voice sounded on the other end, the effect it had on you highly visible. 

“Are you okay?”

Leave it to Noah to be worried just because you were calling him. 

You ignored his question and went into a query of your own. “Have you named it yet?” 

“Named…what?”

“The plant in your window.” 

There was a brief pause followed by the breathy laugh he did that you liked so much. 

“I guess my interior designer liked your suggestion. But no, I haven't named it. I'll allow you that honor.” 

“I'll have to think on it.” 

“Well,” Noah began again. “Let me give you something else to think on too. Maybe dinner? Tonight?” 

You suddenly froze as you were mid-bite into what remained of your Nutrigrain bar. Holy shit. Was he asking you out? You pried your teeth out of the bar without yet taking a bite, your heart now pounding within your chest. 

“Like…a date?” 

“Unless you'd rather call it a business meeting, then yeah, a date.” 

                                        —

And that's how you ended up at Noah’s favorite Japanese restaurant that night. You sat across from each other in a little separate dining area that lined the back wall of the restaurant. Each room was open, but inside of it was a low table that allowed you to sit on soft cushions versus the usual chairs. You were mad at yourself for wearing a dress but Noah told you he would be your shield when you had to stand. 

“I'm horrible at this!” You laughed as the piece of sushi fell from your chopsticks yet again. 

Noah had been trying his best to teach you how to use them but you were a lost cause to the art. 

“It is getting kind of sad watching you fail to eat,” he teased. 

With a huff, you set the chopsticks aside and grabbed the piece with your fingers instead. You were done playing games with those complicated utensils, just as your growling stomach also was. 

Noah could only shake his head at you in feigned disappointment while showing off his own impressive chopstick skills. 

“I'm half Japanese,” he explained, as if that meant the ability to use chopsticks just ran through his veins. Maybe it did. What did you know? Your ancestry definitely wasn't as exciting as his. 

“That's cool,” you shielded your mouth as you chewed your lump of fish and rice. “Have you ever been to Japan?”

Shaking his head, Noah mixed a bit of wasabi with his soy sauce before dunking another piece of sushi into it. “Too busy here with the club and everything else. It's hard to even get a night off.” 

“But you managed to tonight,” you pointed out with a sly smile. 

Noah lifted his eyes to yours, a smile now on his face that mimicked your own. “Jolly owed me a favor.” 

All you could do was stare at him, your pleased expression lingering. He looked so different when not in the Nocturnal atmosphere, like he could fully breathe and relax his shoulders for once. Sometimes you found it hard to believe that the man sitting in front of you was one in the same with his Nocturnal counterpart. 

“I have a question.”

With his mouth filled with sushi, Noah nodded for you to continue. 

You propped your elbows on the table and leaned forward a bit, your voice lowering so no one could overhear. “Why do you stop us from going further whenever you touch my underwear?” 

Noah suddenly coughed, his fist lightly banging against his chest to help dislodge whatever had gotten stuck. He eyed you while reaching for his water and taking a generous swallow. 

“Have you been sneaking shots of sake?” He questioned through his gulps of water. 

Chuckling, you shook your head. “I'm just curious since it's happened twice now.” 

Three times if you count the last dream you had of him but that was definitely not something you were going to bring up. Ever. 

As he took in a deep breath after regaining his composure, Noah fumbled with his chopsticks. If you didn't know any better then you would say you had made him blush, but you would pass it off as being an effect from his coughing fit. For his sake, of course. 

“It's not done on purpose,” he finally replied. “Neither time has been the right time and that just happens to be whenever my head decides to work again. The head on my shoulders, that is.” 

You couldn’t help but to faintly smirk at his admission, though you covered it by taking a bite of the ginger on your plate. 

“The one below my shoulders…mind of its own.” He murmured under his breath like you wouldn't be able to hear him. You opted not to taunt him for it. 

A few topics later and Noah finally pushed his plate away to indicate that he was full. You had already done the same, the sushi weighing heavy on your stomach. You didn't regret a single piece of it, though. 

“So, the guy last night, Ruffilo…”

“Nicholas?” You cut him off, brows raised. Noah cleared his throat a bit and nodded. 

“Do you know him?” 

You shrugged as you sipped from your water. “That was only the second time I've met him. He's the grandson of Red, my other boss. One of many, apparently.” 

You could tell that Noah had something he wanted to say but he was contemplating heavily about it. His jaw was clenched, his fingers still fumbling with his chopsticks that were now placed down on the table. You wanted to reach over and grab his hand so he would stop and calm down, but you resisted. 

“Whatever it is you want to say, go on and say it.”

“I just really need you to be careful, okay?”

You looked at him with a confused stare, your head tilting to the side slightly. 

“Why does it always feel like you're keeping something from me?” 

Noah opened his mouth to speak but then paused as the waitress approached. He passed off his debit card when she asked if they were ready for the check, his body language showing how eager he was for them to leave. Why? She couldn't say.  

“Noah,” you pressed. 

“Because I am,” he finally admitted. “But only to keep you safe. The less you know, the better.”

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes. “I'm so tired of everyone thinking they know what's best for me.”

“Hey, no, that's not what –”

You cut him off by dropping your napkin into your plate and making a move to stand. You didn't even care if you flashed him in the process because at least the glimpse of your bright red underwear would let him know what he was missing out on that night. 

Standing and smoothing out your dress with as much grace as you could muster, you didn't even spare Noah another glance before you were walking away. “I'll be outside.” 

Yes, you were mad, but you weren't dumb enough to walk home alone when people were looking for you. The city was big but never quite big enough if you were trying to hide.  

Noah found you barely a minute later leaning against the front of the restaurant. With your arms crossed over your chest and your heels digging into the pavement, you glanced his way when you felt his overwhelming presence. He may look like a completely different person when wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but he still had the same effect on you just from being close. 

You fucking hated how drawn to him you were. Like you were an idiotic asteroid caught in his planetary orbit and you couldn't get away even if you wanted to. Which…fine, you didn't. Not really. That wasn't something his arrogant ass needed to know, though. 

“I liked it,” you softly spoke. You glanced back towards the restaurant over your shoulder, motioning towards it. “The sushi.” 

“I told you it was the best in the city,” Noah smiled. 

Pushing off the wall, you responded with a sarcastic roll of your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, so you did.” 

You began walking towards the parking lot with Noah in tow, his steps quickly meeting up with yours. Damn those long legs of his. With only silence drifting between the two of you, you began to feel the awkwardness seeping in. Not from the silence itself but from your childish storming out. You weren't going to apologize for it because you weren't sorry, not in the least bit, but you knew you could've handled it better. 

“It's really frustrating,” you began as your pace slowed and you nervously toyed with the ring on your index finger. “When everyone around you is keeping secrets and you constantly feel like you're on the outskirts of your own life.” 

Noah exhaled slowly through his nose, his pace again matching your own until you both came to a halt at the passenger side of his car. He licked over his lips before dropping his gaze to yours, a look of concern present in those eyes of his that you already loved so much. 

“I know,” he said as he brushed your hair from your shoulder before lightly grasping the back of your neck. 

“I don't think you do,” you shook your head. “My dad, Vane -” you lowered your voice at his name as if just speaking it would summon him from the depths of Hell, “everyone kept me in the dark and expected me to just go along with whatever they had planned.” 

You were trying to ignore the way his fingers were lightly stroking the nape of your neck because it would be all too easy to fall into the temptation of that sensation. Apparently your body had other plans, though. Chills formed along your arms and you were sure that if you glanced down then your nipples would be rather present against your dress, so you quickly remedied that by crossing your arms over your chest again. Goddamn him. 

“It's not fair, Noah,” you continued. “I have every right to know everything. Well, at least everything that has to do with me. You know what I'm saying.” 

Noah smiled as you stammered over your last few words, your aggravation at a boiling point. His hands shifted until he was cradling your face within his palms, the pads of his thumbs lightly stroking along your cheeks. 

“You're really fucking cute when you get flustered.” 

Your eyes narrowed up at him into a glare and you suddenly pushed against his chest. “You're an asshole,” you muttered. 

Noah laughed but still placed a chaste kiss to your forehead before you could shove him away again. He then opened the passenger side door for you and made sure you were settled before venturing around to the driver’s side. 

“I'm trying to identify the men who came looking for you from our security footage,” he explained once you had been driving down the road for a few minutes. 

“It's proving to be harder than I thought because I doubt guys like that are just going to pop up in a system, so I'm having to dig deeper.”

You finally looked over at him, your face expressionless. You were thankful for his honesty on what was happening but you also wanted to smack him upside the back of the head. 

“Why didn't you just ask me who they were? I've been around my dad and Vane’s men for years.” 

Noah shook his head, his wrist flexing on the steering wheel where he was using it to drive. “I didn't want you involved anymore than you already are. I told you that I'm trying to keep you safe. If anyone were to catch wind of a girl snooping around with me, it would be very bad.” 

He glanced to where you were seated just as his free hand extended out to rest on your thigh. He gave your heated skin a reassuring squeeze, but left his hand to linger. Your heart rate immediately picked up at the skin to skin contact, a shaky breath escaping. 

“Play dirty all you want, but I still expect you to show me pictures of these guys.” 

“So bossy,” he chuckled, but then gave your thigh another gentle squeeze as a silent acceptance of your demand. 

There was a lot of back and forth once Noah pulled into the apartment building as to whether or not he was going to walk you up to your place. You told him again and again that you were fine, but he made the argument of being a gentleman and needing to end your first date right. 

How could you deny him that? 

Standing outside your door, he had one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck. Noah’s version of ‘goodbye’ meant having his tongue in your mouth again but you definitely weren't going to complain about it. 

What a gentleman he was indeed. 

You fumbled to try to grab your keys from your bag as his lips ignited that familiar fire within you again. He had been right - it was so much better when you were sober. There was no haze lingering that made you question whether or not this was a dream, no swirling thoughts. You could freely feel every hard line of his body against yours and the way his fingers grabbed you with a need that rivaled your own. 

“I need to unlock the door,” you murmured into his mouth. Laughing like a love struck little school girl, you managed to turn away from him, but that wasn't stopping Noah from pressing into you from behind and kissing along your neck. 

Your eyes fluttered closed and your hands trembled while you tried your best to slip the key in. All while his own large hands had disappeared beneath your dress to graze your bare hips and thighs, turning you into a puddle right then and there. 

“Having a hard time?” Noah teased as one of his hands ran across your lower stomach, his fingers dipping just beneath the band of your panties. 

You pressed your ass back into him to give him a taste of his own medicine, a deep groan then given to you in response. His grip on your hip tightened just as you managed to unlock the door and push it open. Barely a step in was taken before Noah had you turned around, the door shut, and your body sandwiched against it. 

Fuck, you didn't know if you two were even going to make it back to your bedroom. He was on the verge of taking you right there against your front door. 

Grabbing beneath your thighs and hoisting you up, your legs immediately secured around his waist and pulled him in close. You could feel how hard he was against your thigh and you were desperate to help him find some relief, but he had found solace at your chest first. Noah tugged the straps of your dress down, his lips trailing eager kisses along your chest and down the valley between your breasts. Each touch of his lips to your skin was like a spark of electricity and you wanted more. Needed more. 

“Noah,” you gasped once he had pulled your dress down more and gained access to your bare chest. His tongue flicked across your nipple as your hands threaded through his hair, gripping tight into the locks to keep him in place. 

“I can't get enough of the way your body responds to me,” he lowly spoke as he transitioned to your other nipple to give it the same attention. 

You smirked, your eyes then slowly opening when your hands dropped to begin working open the button of his jeans. Suddenly, you paused, your body going completely still. 

“Noah…” your voice was more serious this time, but it took you lightly tapping his shoulder for him to realize that you were trying to get his attention and not urging him forward. 

It only took him a couple of seconds of reading the scared expression on your face and witnessing the trembling of your lower lip for him to follow your line of sight over his shoulder. 

Your apartment was a disaster. The cushions of your couch had been ripped apart, side tables overturned, the television smashed. Things previously on your walls now laid destroyed on the floor, just as little knick knacks you had here and there also did. 

Noah had you on your feet and your dress situated correctly in a blur. He was wearing the Nocturnal mask now, his face hard and unreadable. 

“Stay here,” he demanded, his hand pressing into your stomach to keep you against the door. 

Then he began to slowly move through your apartment, checking every corner and closet, glass cracking beneath his feet. All you could do was listen to his command, your arms now hugging yourself and tears threatening to spill over. You weren't going to let yourself cry. Not over materialistic items that didn't truly mean anything. 

But what if you had been home when whoever stopped by to ransack your place? Had they come by in hopes of finding you or did they know you were out? Was it targeted or were you simply a random victim of a burglary? 

“Everything is clear,” Noah exclaimed a short moment later when he came walking back up to you. You hadn't been able to pull your gaze from the empty picture frame that laid shattered on the floor, though. It used to house an image of you and Mel from your fifteenth birthday. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was soothing but it was his hands lightly touching your face that brought you back to reality. Noah tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes meeting through the dim lighting after he had turned the kitchen overhead on. 

“I need you to ignore the mess and pack a bag, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

“What? Why? Where are we going?” You were slightly frantic as your eyes searched his, but it was expected when your entire life was being turned upside down - literally. 

“You're going to stay with me until I can figure out what to do, alright? So, please, go pack a bag and be quick.” 

Noah was eager to get going, you could tell from his voice that he was trying his best to remain calm and collected for you, though. He continued to lightly push your hair back, his fingertips grazing your jaw until you were finally able to nod. 

As you began to slowly maneuver your way around the disaster that was your apartment, you paused in the hallway, your hands fisted at your sides. 

“Noah,” you called out softly. “This is the last time I run from these assholes, got it?” 

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[jungshookz]

taehyung’s gotten really beefy and y/n feels like a hormonal teenager 

➺ pairing; roommate!taehyung x roommate!y/n 

➺ genre; roomie!taehyungiverse!! honk honk humour!! a little sprinkle of smut because it would be illegal to write about beefy taehyung and not talk about his bulging biceps WOOF WOOF y/n is a lucky girl i need himbo gymrat taehyung so bad 

➺ wordcount; 2.5k

➺ summary; over the last few weeks, taehyung’s noticed that you’ve been particularly jittery and nervous around him and he can’t figure out why… after one of his usual morning workouts, he decides to finally confront you about it and your answer is more than satisfying to him. 

➺ what to expect; “wait, so you’re telling me the only reason why you’ve been acting so strange these last few weeks is because you think i’m… sexy?”

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; hey daddy (daddy’s home) — usher 

»»————- 🏋🏻‍♂️ ————-««

you’re not sure when taehyung decided to go on a new health journey, but it feels like you’ve blinked and watched your boyfriend go from just some handsome guy that you’re in love with to this muscular, gym-crazy man who loves protein shakes and asking for extra chicken at chipotle (who you’re still very much in love with, let’s be clear that nothing’s changed about that) and suddenly has the ability to do like 100 pull-ups without getting tired 

“ugh, fuck-“ taehyung grunts as he does his last push up (this is his fourth set, so technically he just did 300 pushups with no problem), getting up from the ground and twisting his upper body from side to side before putting his phone in between his lips, peeling his damp wife-beater tank off and tossing it on the ground 

lately he’s been working out in the morning before starting his day and it’s honestly been such a great change — he feels super pumped for the day ahead and completely reinvigorated 

and getting his workout done in the morning means he doesn’t have to worry about it for the rest of the day! 

he went for a run around the neighbourhood early this morning, and then came home to finish off with some calisthenics 

and now he’s gonna do a little cool-down stretch and hit the shower

he hums to himself as he adjusts his wired earbuds, usher’s hey daddy (daddy’s home) making him bop his head — maybe it’s a little douchey of him to be listening to this song while he’s working out but he can’t help that it’s a good ass song 

he slips his phone into the back pocket of his grey sweatpants before reaching for the bottle of water, twisting the cap off and lifting the bottle to chug half of it down 

“…good lord.” you mutter to yourself, staring at your boyfriend shamelessly from the kitchen as your jaw goes slack 

oh yeah — you’re here, too, by the way 

you’ve been here the whole time

you watched him do all 300 pushups and you counted 

and now your coffee is cold because you can’t multitask and you couldn’t focus on gawking at your boyfriend and drinking your coffee at the same time 

taehyung didn’t notice when you slipped past him earlier to head to the kitchen (and honestly, you didn’t want to bother him mid-workout because you know that you hate it when people interrupt your flow) and you’re pretty sure he still hasn’t noticed you, but you’re fine with that because you’d rather he be unaware of your presence than know that you’ve been creeping on him for the last twenty minutes or so 

you don’t mean to stare, you really don’t, but… how can you not stare at him in his shirtless, sweaty glory like that?

your mouth goes dry and you swallow thickly when he turns around, his back muscles flexing slightly 

and since when did he have such bulging veins in his biceps?! 

your eyes trail down the wide expanse of his glistening back and you immediately get flashbacks from the other night when you had your nails digging into his shoulder blades, your hands sliding down to his lower back as he pushed himself into- 

“good morning, sexy-“ you’re snapped out of your thoughts when tae delivers a slap to your bare ass as he passes by and you immediately grip onto your mug harder, letting out a nervous chuckle, “you’re finally up!”

“yeah, i-“ your voice cracks and you clear your throat before shrugging, reaching down to pull your shirt down a little to cover your ass, “it’s whatever, i’m cool.” your brows immediately furrow in confusion at your own words 

…what?

what are you even saying? 

see, something else you’ve noticed that’s happened since taehyung decided that he wanted to go on a run every morning at 5am and come home completely JACKED is that you’ve started feeling nervous around him and you have no idea why 

the both of you have been together for five years (and seven months) and somehow you’ve reverted to some lovestruck teenager who giggles at everything

in fact, you feel like how you felt when you first met taehyung when he came to see you about your open roommate application — very intimidated by how handsome he was and hoping that he thought you were cool enough to hang out with 

“did you want some of my smoothie, baby? i can already tell this batch might have a little more than usual…” taehyung hums, his tongue poking out from in between his lips as he measures out his double chocolate protein powder, dumping two full scoops into the blender, “could you get the blueberries from the freezer for me?” 

“smoothie?” you clear your throat, nodding and setting your mug down, “uh, yeah! blueberries.” you turn around, pulling the freezer drawer open and pulling out the large ziploc of frozen blueberries before shaking your head to yourself to snap out of your funk 

smoothie? uh, yeah, blueberries! you mock yourself internally — you are literally incapable of forming full sentences, it feels like you’ve got a bunch of marbles rolling around in your mouth 

and he needs to put a shirt on or something because he’s starting to get those toned v-lines that taper down nicely when he wears his sweatpants low on his hips 

you didn’t even know those muscles existed 

“so did you want some? it’s okay if you don’t, i guess i could drink it all, the extra protein will be good-“

“uh, yeah! i’ll have some.” you nod, setting your mug down and turning to get a cup for yourself 

taehyung turns the blender on and the kitchen is immediately filled with the obnoxious, grating sound of ZZzhzhhZHHZHHHHHhHhZHzh but you’re actually glad the space between you is being filled up with that 

otherwise you’d have to make conversation with him 

and in your current state, you are completely helpless 

you watch as he reaches up to slick his damp hair back, leaning back a little to check and make sure all the ingredients are being blended up nice and smooth  

it just feels like he’s moving in slow-motion and you… you… 

see you just lost your train of thought 

THAT’S how bad it’s been 

taehyung glances up at you briefly from where he’s standing at the opposite end of the kitchen island, noticing that you’ve seemed to space out again 

he has no idea what your deal has been for the last couple of weeks — he doesn’t think anything is necessarily wrong between the two of you, and if there’s a problem he knows you’re more than capable of bringing it up with him and talking it out 

but at the same time, something is wrong because you’ve been unusually quiet and every time he tries to make conversation it feels like you don’t know how to speak like a normal human being 

like earlier when he said good morning and that you were finally up and you responded with “it’s whatever, i’m cool”

it’s whatever, i’m cool

what the hell was that?! 

or the other night when he asked you if you wanted to join him in the shower and you let out the most nervous, high-pitched laugh before practically sprinting away to the kitchen and saying something about needing to wash the dishes 

…is it him? are you not physically attracted to him anymore? 

that can’t be it, either… you guys had sex the other night and you were very vocal (you guys actually got a noise complaint from a neighbour but he never told you because he knew you’d be embarrassed and never want to have sex ever again, and to be honest, he’s just planning on putting his hand over your mouth the next time you fuck — easy fix!) 

“okay, what’s wrong with you?” taehyung asks as soon as he turns the blender off, and you look up from the counter with wide eyes, “you’ve been so jittery with me for the last few weeks and i cannot figure out why, for the life of me. if you’re up to something shady, you might as well tell me now and-“

“what?” your eyelashes flutter in surprise and you let out a snort, his crazy accusation immediately sobering you up, “i promise you i am not up to anything shady, in fact, i’m kind of offended you even had that thought-“

“oh, thank god. you’re speaking like a normal human being, i finally fixed you-“ taehyung sighs, blowing a puff of air out as he pops the blender lid off, dipping his finger into the smoothie before bringing it up to his lips for a taste

“you have got to be kidding me.” you murmur to yourself, watching as some of the smoothie drips from his finger onto his toned abdomen

he swipes it off before sucking it off his finger with a satisfied hum

“you’re a freak!”  you blurt out, “oh my god, you are such a freak and it’s like you do these things that i feel like are on purpose but-“

“what are you talking about??” 

“i’m talking about- i just-“ you stumble over your words, letting out a groan when you find yourself being unable to form a sentence again

you pause for a second, shaking your head before composing yourself and painting a nice, pleasant smile on your face, “you… you… are you… are you aware of how ripped you’ve become?” 

“what?” taehyung laughs in disbelief, his eyes flickering off to the side, “i mean… i know i’ve definitely bulked up a little, i wouldn’t say i’m ripped-“

“you have no idea how hard it is to not throw myself at you every single second of every single day — i mean, i love you and i’m attracted to you no matter what you look like but there’s just something so satisfying about biting into your firm, firm bicep,” you make your way over to taehyung before jabbing a finger into his arm, “like, are you telling me this is all muscle?!”

“i mean-“ taehyung looks down before flexing his arm, making his bicep pop out, “yeah, i guess so. wait, so you’re telling me the only reason why you’ve been acting so strange these last few weeks is because you think i’m… sexy?” 

“you have been walking around all shirtless and sweaty with grey goddamn sweatpants so low on your hips that you’re basically naked, this is not on me!” you gawk, eyes widening when taehyung suddenly rounds the corner to get closer to you, “what are you- what are you doing?”

“nothing! we’re having a conversation, aren’t we?” the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk as he continues walking you back until you’ve found yourself bumped up against the counter, your hands immediately fumbling to grip onto the edges to keep balanced, “oh, what’s wrong, baby? do i make you nervous?” he coos, using his pointer finger to raise your chin and forcing you to look at him before setting both his hands down on the counter and effectively trapping you in 

“you-“ your voice cracks and you feel your face getting hotter (again, not sure why because you’ve been dating this man for five years, but maybe it’s a good sign that after all this time you still get super hot and bothered being around him — the spark is still very much alive!), “you don’t make me nervous, that’s ridiculous.” 

“oh, don’t i?” taehyung tilts his head, sliding a finger up the side of your bare thigh and smiling to himself when he feels goosebumps starting to prickle at your skin, “you know, it’s funny that you’re scolding me for walking around shirtless in my own home when you’re the one constantly walking around in skimpy little g-strings. how do you think i feel, having to keep myself from bending you over every single surface in this apartment and just pushing your panties to the side?” he asks, voice light as he uses his pinky to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes  

“i imagine you probably feel… not… good…” you murmur, crossing your arms over your chest and keeping your chin raised in an attempt to appear as calm and collected as possible

“you don’t have to be nervous around me, honey,” taehyung leans down, and you’re as still as can be when he brushes his lips over yours before starting to plant light kisses along your jaw, “you know i love you and for the record, i think you’re incredibly sexy all the time…” he takes your hand and places it on his firm abdomen before sliding it down, and your thighs squeeze together upon feeling the ridges of his abs 

and maybe now isn’t a good time to be thinking this but you can’t help but feel good about the fact that taehyung still thinks you’re sexy — it’s giving you the little ego boost you’ve been needing and- I NEED TO SUCK HIS DICK

okay JESUS 

your eyes shoot open at the sudden uncharacteristically graphic intrusive thought and you immediately push taehyung away from you, keeping him at arm’s length 

“wh- what’s wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “did i say someth-“

“i need to suck your dick.” you interrupt, staring at him with a neutral expression on your face

“what?” he lets out a laugh, “i mean, yes, obviously i want that but-“

“you need to be quiet now.” 

taehyung swallows thickly when he watches you drop to the ground in front of him, staring at him in a way he’s never seen before 

oh, jesus.

»»————- 🏋🏻‍♂️ ————-««

“tae-“ you whimper, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as he presses himself into you, a shaky breath slipping past his lips when he feels you clench up around him, “a-agh…” 

“jesus, your pussy always feels so good…” he mutters under his breath, looking down to watch himself pull out slightly before pushing back in all the way, smiling to himself when you whimper and ask him to please, please fuck me-

(needless to say, you guys ended up with another noise complaint. whoops.) 

🎙️ ask taehyung for the recipe to his 70g protein smoothie (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series like this!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[freyito]

hello hello!!! may i order an idia flavored curry rice plz?? blinks cutely) ty!!

✭ pairing(s): idia shroud x gn reader

★ in which: idia is WAY too confident that he can out miku you.

✩ curry rice black forest cake w/ idia shroud!

✦ entry for my 1k follower event, Freyito's Maid Cafe! check out the link to figure out how to send an order!!

✧ a/n: ykw anon. im so glad you changed your mind because this gave me SUCH a banger idea that i couldnt go to sleep cause i was writing it out in my head. teehee :)

🗒 cw: gn reader, ffxiv sneak, just embarrassed idia :3, not proofread

✎ wc: 2.7k

ᴘᴜʀᴇ ᴇᴠɪʟ | ꜰʀᴇʏɪᴛᴏ'ꜱ ᴍᴀɪᴅ ᴄᴀꜰᴇ !

It was late at night, and you had been on call with Idia. He was grinding out materials for some new transmog that had dropped in his game, and cursing the drop rates. You, on the other hand, were grinding out Project Diva Mega Mix for no particular reason. You had just made up your mind that you wanted to full combo some extra songs, and now you were hellbent on doing so. Plus, it provided some nice background music for Idia and his grind sesh.

By now, you had two songs finished and full cleared (albeit, with 97% accuracy), and you were working on your third, Sweet Devil. You already had four failed runs, your hands were starting to cramp a bit, and Idia’s smart remarks weren’t helping you. Not to mention, you always found the mvs distracting. Too much happening in the background while you were trying to focus on the notes.

You slump back in your chair with a huff as you watch the small word ‘safe’ pop up and interrupt your combo. You watch for just a moment as the symbols fly past on the screen, a barrage of ‘miss’es following shortly after. You finally exit the mv, balling your hands into a fist and then stretching out your fingers.

“I thought you were, like, a god at rhythm games,” Idia chides. You can hear the smile through his mic.

“Well sometimes it takes a couple tries,” You sigh, shaking your head. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure it does,” He chuckles. When you look at his stream, he’s finished up running maps and his character is now toiling away by the marketboard. “I bet I could do it.”

You raise your eyebrow, though he can’t see it. “Hm, what’s the stakes?”

“We need stakes?”

“You’re insulting my integrity as a rhythm game player. I want there to be a deal.”

A silence follows your voice, but you can hear him shift back in his chair. “Okay. What do you want to bet, then?”

Hm. You yourself don’t know exactly what you want if you win. Maybe you could get some gil off of him in game, but that didn’t feel like enough. You look around your room, before spotting something rather intriguing. It was a forgotten purchase, a pastel pink maid dress. It was rather cheap material, but still served its function. You were sure if you looked for them, you’d find the rest of the pieces…

“Loser wears a maid dress,” You declare triumphantly. “I got one in my closet.”

“... I, uh, don’t wanna ask why you have that,” He mumbles, “But I guess I accept. It’d be pretty nice to see you in a maid dress, heh…”

“Don’t act like you’ve already won. You haven’t even opened the game yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, just lemme put this up on the marketboard and I’ll get on the game…”

You lean back, content to wait and give your hands a bit of a break. You can’t help but smirk at not only making Idia eat his words, but seeing him in a maid dress would make you… quite happy, to say the least. The light pink would pair well with his hair and– you have to stop yourself there. You’d rather not distract yourself any further, nor allow yourself to get cocky. You can’t get ahead of yourself, or else you risk losing perhaps the most precious award you could ever have. 

“Okay. I’m on. Which song was it again?” Idia finally speaks up. When you look back at his stream, he’s ended it.

“Sweet Devil– Hey, you should stream your screen,” You point out, tabbing back into your game.

“I’m getting to itttt,” He drags the last letter, like it was too much work, as if he had not streamed his games every time you two called.

You watch as the ‘stream has ended’ switches to his screen, scrolling through the songs before landing on sweet devil. He changes difficulties to extreme, then waits for a moment, like he’s expecting you to say something. You decide to mess with him a little bit, staying silent a little longer.

“I’m waiting,” He groans, and you can almost hear his eyes roll. “I know you’re watching. I heard the little viewer noise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You chuckle, “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Idia doesn’t even grace you with a ‘go’, or anything of the sort, simply starting the song, following your words. You scramble to tab back into the game, quickly selecting the song. 

The song and mv start up, and soon after the notes come in. You do your best to focus, to try and block out the MV, the bright pink lights of Miku’s room and Miku herself made it hard to follow the notes, especially with how fast they were. Still, you find your rhythm relatively easily, considering you knew the song and charting by heart. Normally, you’d be super conscious about the progress bar beneath the screen, checking to make sure you were well above the ‘excellent’, marker. However, you were too determined to focus. And unfortunately, that would be too much of a distraction. You don't even focus on if your hits are 'good' or 'excellent'.

The hold notes scare you the most, considering you always end up slipping up on them, somehow. Either that, or you don’t hold them for long enough and panic when you can just press the other buttons on your keyboard. You tell yourself, over and over again, in your mind, that you can just use the other set of keys. You have to. You can’t risk allowing Idia to have any sort of edge on you.

Three minutes feels like five, or even ten. Idia has been far too quiet during this, not even muttering something under his breath. You feel grateful for a moment, if you heard anything on his side, you’d probably mess up. Maybe you could mess him up. Yes. No. Ugh, if you did, you’d probably mess yourself up, too. And if you had messed him up, he’d complain and call for a redo. You would rather never play this song again, to be honest.

Just as your fingers start to tingle– a result of adrenaline, for some reason–, the word ‘success’ comes up. Behind the notes, Miku turns her little devil tail into a spear and throws it as a planet. You do your best not to celebrate too early, still having to go through with the last couple seconds of the song. You were just happy to have nailed the challenge time, more than happy. 

After the last couple of notes, you’re able to lean back and relax. For a moment. When the ‘clear’ screen comes up, you feel your heart jump at the percentage. 101.53%. You look over at Idia’s stream and can’t help but laugh. 99.07%.

“No,” He utters weakly, with an agony in his voice you have never heard before. He doesn’t say anything else.

“Yes,” You feel maniacal, an odd elation spreading through your chest. You don’t even exit the game, hopping out of your chair. “You stay right there.”

You pull the dress from your closet, listening to Idia frantically call for Ortho from your headphones. The rest of what he says is unintelligible, given the distance between you and your headphones as you rummage through drawers to find the rest of the costume. You find the cuffs, stockings, and even a headband with cat ears. It’s a little bent, but you’d fix it on the way.

Hurriedly, you stuffed the costume into a bag, grabbing your phone and turning on the flashlight. Slinging the bag over your shoulder and rushing out of your house. You keep your flashlight pointed at the ground so you don’t trip, running as fast as you can to the Hall of Mirrors. Like it is a high-stakes situation, time is precious. If you can’t make it to Ignihyde’s dorms soon, then you will never see Idia in a maid dress, even if you won the bet.

The minute you reach the Hall of Mirrors, you practically throw yourself through Ignihyde’s mirrors, scrambling through the halls with harsh breaths. Your heavy footsteps echo through the halls as you make your way up the steps and to Idia’s room, clutching the strap of your bag. Ortho is there, in front of Idia’s door, opening it just a crack.

Seeing you, the boy lights up, smiling at you from underneath his mask. “Oh, hey, Idia. They’re here!”

“Nooo!” Idia squeals, and you can what him scrambling from his chair to close the door.

You shove your foot into the crack of the door just as Idia tries to open it. He uses more force than he means to, squeeze your foot slightly. You don’t emote, despite how much it hurts. Which scares Idia. But you don’t care. You won the bet. And he needs to pay up. Ortho stares blankly, trying to figure out what has Idia acting this way, before scolding his brother.

“That’s mean! You shouldn’t try to shut your partner out, especially like that!” 

Idia shrinks back a little. It’s clear that Ortho doesn’t know what has you on such a warpath, and you are quite happy with that. Finally, you smile a little, opening the door with your other hand. 

“Ortho…” Idia murmurs, turning his gaze away from you and his brother. “We’re gonna, uhm, game all night. Just us two. So, uh, you should get some sleep.”

He sounds utterly defeated, and Ortho remains none the wiser as to what you were about to subject poor Idia too.

“Huh? But you called me here?” Ortho tilts his head, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I didn’t mean it– er, It was a mistake,” 

“... Okay! I’ll leave you two be. Have fun!”

And with that, Ortho hovers away, happy to leave his brother in your hands. By then, Idia knows he’s lost. You take a step in, handing him the bag with the dress and accessories in it. You don’t even speak to him, feeling a bit too giddy about your win, and prize.

“Uhm… can you at least stay out there, while I get changed?” His voice is shy, understandably so. 

“If you lock yourself in there, I’ll get Ortho to break it down,” You place your hands on your hips, in an attempt to seem confident.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

He’s right, you were well aware that your threat was kind of empty. But there’s no way you were going to let him get away.

“Then I’ll get those Heartslabyul first years to kick the door down.”

He lets out a small ‘eep’ at this, frowning. “Okay, okay, I won’t lock the door. Fine. You win.”

He doesn’t allow you any time to reply, taking the back and closing the door all too quickly. You can hear him shuffling about and the clothes rustling, and you feel your stomach flip-flop with nerves. You fidget with your hands and turn your back to the door, pretending like you actually didn’t care all that much so that Idia could get dressed faster, like that would work. You cross your arms, tapping your fingers against your biceps while you wait.

After a while, you hear the door crack behind you, and you turn around way too excitedly. He barely peeks through, giving you a look akin to a pleading puppy. He didn’t open the door all the way, insistent that you had to slip in through the crack, in case any one else would look out and see him. He’d rather save himself the embarrassment.

Finally squeezing through the door, he shuts it quickly. You, on the other hand, are greeted with a sight. His entire face is red, the tips of his hair flickering a bright pink as he looks away in embarrassment. The dress is a little short for him, so he clutches to the hem of the skirt and pulls it down a little. The pink worked well with his hair and his skin, just like you thought. It’s cliche, one of the dresses that was copy pasted from all those maid animes and what not. But still, you think it fit well.

“This is so cheap,” Idia complains, tilting his head up. “Okay. I dressed up. Can you go now so I can get back in my pajamas?”

You realize he’s missing something. The cat ears.

“No. No, I’m not leaving until you put the cat ears on.” You state simply, looking around for where they are.

He grimaces, deflating even more. “Please no. I think I might die. Actually, I’m going to die. Right now.”

“I won the bet fair and square, it’s not my fault. Where are they, Idia.” You speak with such a stern voice, it almost scares him. He finally, hesitantly, points to his chair, his grimace deepening as he looks back at you. “Put. Them. On.”

He groans, turning around and grabbing the cat ears. He gives you one last look, begging you to just let him go. Maybe you’re being a little too sadistic, but c’mon, Idia in a maid dress. That’s it. You plan to make the most of it. Slowly, he lifts the headband over his head, then lowers it down. Now you have your own Idia cat maid in front of you. You can’t help but smile, absolutely jubilant to see this poor man wearing such a cute dress.

“Okay. Can you go now, please,” He pleads once more, bringing a hand up to his face.

“Can I at least take a picture?” You hold up your phone.

“N-no! Please, no. I’m already at my lowest point, don’t have to kick me while I’m down…”

“Okay, okay,” You decide to finally allow him some mercy, “I won’t. But… I don’t think this image is ever leaving my head any time soon.”

He sighs and shakes his head, avoiding your gaze. But he doesn’t reply. Well, that won’t do. You decide to come up with a quick excuse to stay.

“Well, I ran all the way here, in the dark, it’d suck if you sent me back,” You try to play it cool, tilting your head a little and looking up through your lashes at him. This earns you a deeper blush.

“Stop it,” He huffs, turning his head. Met with his set up, he realizes you two are technically still on call. And he finds his way out. “Your pc is on, you know.”

“Huh.”

“It’s on. You’re still in call.” He points to his monitor.

Your blind blanks for a minute, before you panic a little. You would like to stay and see if you can get him to stay in the maid dress for a little longer, but at the same time, you’d rather not blow out the power supply of your pc. That thing is too damn expensive. And you love it too much.

“Okay. Bye.” You huff briskly, turning on your heels and waiting for the door open before running back down to the mirror that connected the Ignihyde dorms to the Hall of Mirrors.

Idia yelps as the door slides open fully, stepping back and pressing himself against the wall so no one would see. Like anyone else was up at this time. He listens to you rush down the hallway, before letting out a breath. Once the door is shut all the way, he’s quick to wriggle out of the dress, throwing the cat ears, cuffs, and stockings (which ended up ripping a bit) to the corner of his room.

Almost breaking the zipper, he yanks it down on the back of his dress and throws it alongside the scattered recipes, before staring intently at it. Why couldn’t you have just waited for him to undress and take it back? He didn’t want these god forsaken items here. In his room. That reminded him of you. That’s like the cheesiest romantic thing couples do! And in this fashion, perhaps even cringey! He wants to burn it, so bad. Or throw it out. But what if someone somehow finds it in the trash? And then they link it back to him? That’d be the worst scenario. The absolute worst.

He continues to stare at it for a minute, before reaching for his pajamas that were hanging off the back of his chair. Fine. He’ll leave the stupid costume alone for now. Perhaps it’d come in handy one day. Give you a taste of your own medicine… or something.

© freyito, 2025 | maid cafe event | maid cafe masterlist | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | strawpage | star header by roseschoices , dividers by cafekitsune , headers by yours truly

DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[vin-at-thehub]

Vin wrote a fic for you btw @dustcrumbs

Here it is:

It was late, probably some point when the morning would come up and kiss the night away. The time where the sun wouldn’t rise with color but the moon would fade into the background and hold everything in a soft glow. It was also the point at night where Horror trudged his way back into the palace. He had been actively out all day with the plan of visiting his brother after he handled some supplies runs from Nightmares orders. If things had gone well, he didn’t show it, if it went poorly, he still didn’t show it, having his expression in a held smile. Masking in its own way.

By the time he had made it past the kitchen, to the stairs, he paused, hearing mumbling coming from that room. He stood there for a moment, before the voice of Dust clicked into his skull. Ah, Dust was awake—and talking to himself again-? Horror wasn’t sure who or why Dust spoke to seemingly no one, but he didn’t really mind overall. They were all freaks here, weren’t they-? Why would he have the right to judge Dust-? Especially when Dust had been nothing but nonchalant with him.

Horror smiled as he went and walked himself into the kitchen, eye-lights flashing around as he tried to spot Dust—there he was, mumbling something as he heated up a pot of water over the stove, and tried to strain some leaves into it.

“Whatcha doin bud-?” He asked gruffly, being caught off guard by how low his own voice was. Stars below, he was exhausted, wasn’t he-?

Eh, hopefully the big bad boss would just let him sleep through the day—and then he could stuff his face when he ate later. Maybe. It was still hard to eat without thinking of the people back home that had so little—even though he brought them food, and well, he had noticed the boss’s brother bringing some supplies at all—but at the end of the day, making sure the food didn’t go to waste was still something good to get done.

Dust snapped his skull up at him, knocking him out of his thoughts. Dust had a habit of pulling him out of his thoughts. It was nice. Sometimes Horror would just silently find himself near Dust, knowing that fog in his mind would go away around him.

The hooded skeleton shuffled his feet, eyelights likely flickering to the boiling tea. “Was gonna make you a…er cup of tea.” He said blankly. Horror stared at him in surprise for a second. Well that was a sweet pick me up. Hell, yeah. As he opened his mouth (teeth..-?) to reply with an enthusiastic thank you, Dust had started his mumbling again.

”shut up I’m trying—it’s just tea—..” He hissed to the air. Huh. Horror reached a clawed hand out and tilted his chin up—avoiding just grabbing his face like he used to since it pissed the boss of for some reason when he yanked Dust around like that—and bringing his attention back to him.

”Yah okay bud-?” He asked, tilting his skull so he could basically stare into the others covered eyelights. In a cute, friendly way of course. Dust just nodded, using blue magic to raise the pot and pour the tea into cups, handing one to Horror. Not saying much. Which was fine to him. Whatever he wanted to do was fine. Though Horror couldn’t help but be curious to what he had heard the other say earlier.

——————————————-

“Can I ask yah who you were chattin with-?” Horror asked, and Dust could swear his soul stopped in his ribcage. Papyrus, or whatever was left of him paused. Then he left. Coward. Leaving him alone with Horror after bullying him for making the guy tea. It was just tea, not a soul proposal or something. Dust took a sip of tea as he nodded, trying to silently figure out what to say, and sipping on leaf water was one way to delay his answer.

He wasn’t afraid to tell Horror. Not really. Not like he was trying to seem more sane than he was. But…it would be nicer to still seem slightly put together. It was probably why Horror constantly seeked him out. Right-?

Oh right he had basically downed the entire cup.

Time to talk, he supposed.

”I was..chatting with my version of Paps.” He said with a shrug. Not wanting to go into too much detail, besides, Horror would probably bomb him with questions anyway. Most did.

But as he waited, that bomb never came. Horror just nodded as he sipped thoughtfully on his tea.

“That sounds nice, bein able to chat with your bro a bunch.” He said with a slight grin.

Oh.

oh.

He wasn’t judging, wasn’t pushing him to say anything more, wasn’t acting like this was world shattering news.

Of course he wasn’t.

He was Horror, his perfect fucking man that understood everything far better than anyone would, then anyone gave him credit for. He kept things simple because simple was what they both needed. What the world needed.

Dust felt himself pull into one of his older grins. He wanted to tell Horror something. How he was feeling right now maybe, how nicely his words had effected him, something to make this…partnership stronger—just something. If he wanted to be a bit drastic “that warms the inside of my soul.” Or to be a bit simpler and direct, “I need you to stay with me. You make me feel safe.” Wonderful plan.

What came out was: “I need you inside me.”

…oh he was fucked.

[slytherinshua]

☆　PURELY PLATONIC　( 高山りき )

genre fluff , friends to lovers , taki x fem!reader   cw none   wc 602   request no   note previous posted to my f1 account as well but i thought it fit taki too !!   net @kstrucknet @lune-net

You knew Taki like the back of your hand. Being best friends for too many years to count meant picking up on all the little things that others would have to dig deep to find out. Taki was the one person who never took you by surprise, who you could read like an open book. 

But on the rare occasion, he still managed to catch you off guard.

“You want me to cuddle you?” you echoed the words that had left the boy’s mouth seconds ago, frozen in slight shock. 

It wasn’t the cuddling that particularly surprised you. Taki was affectionate and so were you. Cuddling wasn’t foreign for you two— platonic cuddling, of course. But in terms of who was the big or little spoon, there were always silent set rules. Taki seemed to always be the one spooning you whenever hugs turned into cuddles. His request to be the recipient was uncharacteristic for him. 

“Yes. Is that weird?” His tentative and slightly confused voice at your reaction made a smile start to form on your lips. Your best friend was adorable. Always clarifying and questioning as if the world was spinning too fast for him. It wasn’t that he was slow or unable to pick up on things, but rather he prioritized your comfort more than anything. Even if he knew what all your expressions and inflections meant in his head, sometimes he wondered if one day he would misjudge. It was always safer to just ask.

“For you? Maybe. Just never figured you for a little spoon,” you replied, your smile now growing into a grin, one that teased Taki without words.

“Well, when you put it like that—“

You grabbed his arm and pulled quickly, yanking you both down onto your bed.

“What are you doing?” Taki pried, rushed words falling from his lips as your arms quickly encircled around his torso.

“Cuddling you. Just like you wanted.” 

The smile that you gave Taki— that self satisfactory mischievous one that he didn’t like to admit he adored so much— made his heart drop to his stomach. 

Hugs with you were never weird. Cuddles with you were never weird. Always in a platonic, best friend kind of way, naturally. Except, this suddenly didn’t feel like something best friends did. 

Heat crawled up Taki’s neck as he tried desperately to ground himself to something before he made things weird. It was a classic cliche— that boys could never just stay friends with a girl. He had always joked about it with you in the past, proudly boasting how you both defied the odds. He remembered saying how he would never be able to see you in a romantic light. 

That was almost 5 years ago now, and the Taki back then felt very different from the Taki now. The one that you were holding in your arms, way too close for him to focus on anything else in the room except for you, you, you. 

Your gaze drifted over his look of surprise and the slight flush on his cheeks. You noticed him slowly start to relax in your hold after a few seconds, slow blinks of his brown eyes staring into yours. You couldn’t help but find it comforting, how he fit so well in your arms, curled up so close.

Taki was the one person that you could read like an open book, and right now your eyes were skipping over the words, putting together the sentences in your brain, the understanding clear as day. 

Maybe what you had with Taki wasn’t as platonic as you had thought.

&team taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kpoprhia,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @talking-saxy,, @hursheys,, @loserlvrss,, @voikiraz,, @hyukabean,, @nicholasluvbot,, @i03jae

[callmeizukunotdeku]

no listen, this EXACTLY

i am OBSESSED with the idea of Jason having to confront Tim's time as Robin; just having to realize that all his anger was directed at the wrong target and that Tim would allow him to keep directing that anger at him so long as that's what keeps the peace

because Jason loves kids but he envies Tim--envies how Tim took his place, so to learn that no, Tim never took his place just gets rid of that envy, and without it, he just has to see how Tim was just a lonely kid who had to watch his idol die and his hero sink to new lows

this was a kid with so little guidance that there was no one to notice him becoming Robin, and so just the idea of Jason having to stop and come to terms with the fact that Tim was a kid just like any other. a kid who was hurting--because, maybe he's not from the Bowery, but he reminds Jason of a lot of the kids he tries to protect and Jason just made everything worse

i think the real tragedy that makes it perfect is how, after that realization, Jason has to confront the fact that Tim needs help and Jason wants to help him, but he hurt Tim and there should be someone safer to take care of him

but even better? there's no one. it's just tim and him. the drakes are the problem and they're gone. bruce and dick and babs had seen tim since the beginning and they didn't notice a thing

tim needed help from someone but there's no perfect hero to save him so it has to be jason because, sure, he's fucked up, but also, he saw through.

and so this recently undead, semi-psychotic maybe twenty year old has to figure out 'alright, how to i save the vigilante not-son of my adoptive father without retraumatizing the kid who i already beat into the ground repeatedly'

Listen... "Placeholder" is a way more fucking tragic nickname/title than "Replacement," and thus this is the name Jason should use for Tim if ya want to max out the angst.

Because there is value in being a replacement. They aren't the original, but a replacement has their own identity. They could be better or a newer model or simply different. There's no expectation for the replacement to be traded back either (though a replacement might get traded for the next replacement). A replacement is compared to the original but they are also accepted as their own identity.

A placeholder, on the other hand, "occupies the position/place of another person." That place isn't theirs. That place is temporary. There's no value to their own existence/identity, and they don't bring anything new to the table as they are. They are a stand-in for something else. They aren't wanted or desired as they are but rather for who they are standing in for.

"Placeholder" is certainly worse :)

[knight-a3]

Hazbin Masterpost

Heavenbound Masterpost

Sera, high radiant seraphim

I wanted angels to look more human. The whole "biblically accurate angels" thing is not quite as biblically accurate as you probably think.

More under the cut

This gets into some theology. So, I wanted heaven to be more human, since God created man in his own image, and it works best with the lore I am building. It just gives a more heavenly vibe when the angels aren't some creature-things. I want heaven to feel heavenly, okay?

Clothes: I changed her outfit, because the canon one is a bit too complicated and I didn't understand the construction of it. So I did something that's easier for me to understand. It's overall more animation friendly, and that pleases me.

Halo: I have specific ideas about halos. They denote the type and rank of angel they are. Seraphim have two silver ring halos. I haven't decided if I want to make her one of the Seven Heavenly Virtues (the Elder Seraphim) or just the head of the Radiant Seraphim(the broader rank of seraphim). Either could work. But if she's a virtue, I'd need to make a small change to her halo, as per my own lore rules.

Wings: I've decided to give seraphim wings with three sets(six total) of primary feathers, instead of six entirely separate wings. Mostly because I do not want to draw that many wings nor figure out the anatomy of it. It mimics the six-winged look while being easier for me to wrap my head around and draw. I also just like the look better.

They can also be summoned and dismissed at will, because I don't want to have to draw them all the time. It's a cop out, but I will do it.

--Biblically Accurate Angels--

"Biblically accurate" is not quite what most people think. Y'all are like, "biblically accurate angels are crazy looking eyeball and wing monstrosities, no wonder people were scared!" But that's literally not what the bible says.

Angel means "messenger", and they often appear as regular-looking people. Sometimes they have a "countenance of lightning" and "raiment white as snow". Jesus was once described(post-resurrection) as having feet of molten bronze(the molten part is the key: it's literally white-hot, not brown) and hair as wool(specifically referring to the color, not texture, and the commonly associated color is white). These are descriptions of glowing.

The crazier depictions tend to happen in visions or dreams, too. It's likely they were symbolic descriptions rather than literal. That the individual components had a cultural connotation that implied something about them. Many eyes symbolized constant watchfulness, for example. I mean, we sometimes describe an angry person as having fire in their eyes or steam coming out their ears, and that's not literal. We describe a sly person as a snake or a fox, but it's not literal. The book of Revelations and the Old Testament, in particular, use imagery, symbolism, and metaphors A LOT. And things get a little muddy when carried between language, culture, and time. Translation, localization, and modernization are tricky processes.

--Seraphim-- <-Link to some helpful info about this topic, if you're interested in that type of thing.

"Seraph" is a back-formation. It's a singular form of a pre-existing plural word. Seraphim is the plural form. I will probably use seraphs and seraphim interchangeably, so just don't worry about that.

The Hebrew root word "sarap" means something along the lines of "burning". It was often used to refer to snakes (possibly because the venom causes a burning sensation, or maybe as a metaphor for purification). It is only used once to describe a heavenly being, in the book of Isaiah. Every other time, it is translated as "burning ones" or "fiery flying serpent". In Egypt and other surrounding cultures, cobras would be used to symbolize divinity, sovereignty, and royalty. The Hebrews probably adopted the imagery. The seraphim described in the Bible might not even refer to what we typically imagine to be angels.

Long story short; seraphim means fiery flying serpents and symbolize divinity and/or purification.

--Cherubim-- <-Link to more cool info!

While I'm on the topic of the etymology of angels, I might as well address cherubs. Cherubim is the proper plural form, but I will probably use cherubs and cherubim interchangeably as well. Just roll with it, it's fine.

The youthful child depiction possibly comes from some rabbinic folk lore that claims the word is related to the Aramaic term for "like a child" or "youthful", but I'm not sure if that's true.

What I'm seeing most consistently is that they're implied to have wings. It seems commonly accepted that it comes from an Akkadian word meaning, "to bless". One source claims it means "hybrid" or "mount, steed" and refers to winged beasts that the Canaanite sky god would ride. Which would align with the depictions of cherubim as tetrads(a hybrid of four creatures), and/or the use of it as some sort of divine flying chariot.

There are a lot of theories, but nothing concrete. It gets very unclear and I'm not an expert. But I'm incorporating a variety of ideas into my lore, and I think I'm doing good with balancing them.

--

In the end, I'm using the terms seraphim and cherubim to describe ranks of angels, because it's what works best with our current understanding of the words. I'm not going to include the other traditional classes of angels like dominions, thrones, etc, because it's overly complicated, and not actually biblical. I don't want to waste brain power on that. Also, the Bible doesn't actually describe the hierarchy of angels at all. It's not even clear if seraphim and cherubim are supposed to be considered angels.

[dionysianchub]

Not-So-Small Update

[TW: Health Issues]

I'll admit I've been struggling. I'd gained weight so quick and easy before, but the last several months have proved to be trying. A good friend and amazing human got me in contact with their partner, a feeder who works in obesity/weight loss research (proof that miracles happen tbh, a living breathing unicorn), with the hope that they could help me figure out how to break my plateau. We only had a brief back and forth on my gaining issues before they encouraged me to get tested for diabetes. As it turns out, there was a very big reason I was struggling to gain. The test results came back on Monday night and sure enough, I'm diabetic.

I've been dealing with a lot of mixed feelings the past two days; panic, shame, anxiety, fear (and maybe some slight kinky pride that I pushed myself this far) because as hot as health issues are in fantasy, I want to be able to live a sustainable life alongside this kink and this served as a rough wakeup call. But thanks to these two wonderful humans I'm able to maintain hope in what felt in the moment like my world was crumbling.

Short term, I need to put gaining on pause and focus on getting my body to stop revolting against me. Unfortunately I may need to lose some weight to achieve this, but I've been honest with my doctor about my preference in size and she only wants to see me lose 5% (12lbs) just to reduce my insulin resistance, improve my blood sugar, and help with my cholesterol (which is also pretty high as well).

Long term, I do plan to return to gaining once my A1C is within normal range again. With the support and help of these wonderful people, we're all confident that I can continue to gain weight in a more healthful way that doesn't push me back into the danger zone, as it were.

I'll still be around, and I'll still be making content (my feeder and I plan to make more content together, even if the food can't be a co-star). I'd also love to hear from any other feedee/gainers with type 2 diabetes that can share their experiences, tips, recipes... Anything would help.

And as always, thanks for being here. I'm forever grateful for the connections I've made in this community and I would never have made it this far in my journey without the support I've found here. Y'all the best. 💜

[stompedchild]

after the past few days i have a lot of thoughts about tr!ros and her lack of kingdom-to-kingdom communication so i'm putting them all together.

all of the below is /rp

so, Ros Roscumber. should be in the running for the Realm SMP's "how many things can one person have wrong with them?" competition, and desperately needs to start seeing a therapist not named Pangi or BadBoyHalo. She is plagued by approximately 10001 issues and i love her. She deals with loneliness, i'd argue social anxiety to some extent, being a people pleaser to a detriment to herself, at least 2 different guilt complexes, nonexistant self-worth that borders on being suicidal, and communication.

Communication is SO important in a place like The Realm where things change on a dime and significant events can happen daily. It's especially important if you're the Royal Architect who is ALSO dealing with about 10000 problems at any given moment. Roscumber has stated that she is not particularly good with phrasing, words, or memory. This does her no favors in being a good communicator, so surely to make up for that she'd frequently express if something's wrong to her faction right? Right??????

Nope! Roscumber has a horrific guilt complex around receiving help from her faction members. She cannot handle the thought of burdening or bothering other people, so she would rather try to be independent and work on things herself to not feel that guilt. Sometimes she'll cave and ask for resources, such as recently when she asked Sneeg to make her new boots (but only after she gathered netherite with Aimsey and Pangi, her friends, not faction members). But other times, such as her training with Clown as an example, she had to be asked to not eat sweet berries and Clown had to insist that it was okay for her to take some of his food.

If the guilt complex was the only issue than maybe Ros would be doing better, but there's another major communication barrier imo. I hesitate to refer to this as anything along the lines of "lacking a backbone" because i don't think that's it. Ros can stand up for herself, though that's typically through killing people who are kinda asking for it (harry, owen, badlinu) and feeling guilty over it afterwards. I want to say that she's passive to a fault but I'm not sure if that fully capture my thoughts. Regularly passive but passive to a fault with the King in particular? I'll figure out how I want to describe this character trait of Ros' eventually :3

When Roscumber left the Kingdom and was confronted by Sneeg, she confessed that she wasn't going to say anything if she wasn't asked. Maybe this says something about how readily her trust/faith and therefore ability to communicate gets shaken, but I think this is an example of her being passive to a fault. More recently she had a chat with Aimsey where she expressed feeling tired over having to constantly defend herself, which I think is a super important line from Ros. Because Ros has been messed with in some shape or form, somewhat consistently, since around the Hostile Faction joining and Mocha deciding to be her number 1 hater. Mocha dying didn't really save her either considering the recent actions of The Jester. At the end of the day, having to be on the defending end from so much shit from so many people for about 3 months now is undeniably exhausting and draining. So what does Roscumber to in response for this? She takes an even more passive approach than normal and simply takes the blows, especially the verbal ones, as they come.

But how does this tie into Kingdom communication? Roscumber's biggest and most active ally, Sneegsnag, is typically off doing his own thing 90% of the time. He is generally speaking out of the loop with a good chunk of things that happen on the server, but it's been noticable with Ros recently. The Jester is after her once again, and she feels as though Foolish is not taking her concerns seriously, and perhaps never thought of it as a big issue in the first place. Not to mention being terrified that Owen is winning him over to kick her out of the Kingdom. Her newfound friend Pangi is having troubles with Ilip, she's dealing with having to process what Owen's said to her, and she's organizing a ball on top of all that! Now, more than ever, she wants to be listened to by someone who can hear about Kingdom secrets without getting in trouble. And yet, she does not reach out for that help.

It's a mix of her tremendous guilt around receiving help from her faction members and not wanting to bother them, see "I fear Sneegsnag has done too much for me," - paraphrased line from Roscumber, but also lacking the will to call out for help, that concerning passivity. Instead of reaching out to her faction member, her teammate, her friend(!!!), she cannot bring herself to take the initial leap of writing /msg Sneegsnag, and will instead wait for one of her friends who is around spawn more frequently to notice that something is wrong and ask her about it. She wants help, she wants comfort, she wants to be listened to by someone she wants to trust, but in order for all of that to occur she first needs to ASK for that. She is instead passive, and waits for her woes to be noticed by those who see her often. She wants her mind to be read yet there's not a single person capable of that on the server. It does not help that she tends to constantly question her loyalties, she is worried about her words misconstruing the situation, and is worried that Sneegsnag's reaction to information will be negative. So with no other active Kingdom members to turn to in confidence, she confides to Aimsey and the Honey Badgers.

It is so cool that this is a solvable issue though! All that needs to happen is for Roscumber to ask Sneeg to talk, and she then needs to open up about her recent problems. Except she has expressed struggling to do that in the first place because of all of her many issues. Sneeg has expressed wanting to support Roscumber and wanting to hang out more, but because of this lack of communication it doesn't happen, and both parties are sad because there's no talking going on. It feels as though Ros is only able to open up when pushed to a breaking point, which is not healthy in the slightest. (not that she is doing that great anyways) Otherwise she will just Not Talk about her problems in fear of being a bother or receiving an unwanted (negative) response. Despite all of this I would like to believe that when the time comes for either Ros to reach out to Sneeg, or for him to inquire about something being wrong, Ros will be given what she has been looking for this past week.

[pascalislove]

ANGEL: SALESMAN X FEM!READER- PART 2

Summary: She was an angel and she should be his.

It's only been a few days since he first saw Y/N, but he already felt like he'd been watching her his entire life.

There was something about her that kept him captive, something that encouraged him to follow her, to know her, to want to possess her. Every step he took, every smile he shared with strangers in the bookstore, made him more eager, more determined.

I wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was her purity, perhaps her soul so oblivious to the evil of the world he knew. Or maybe it was just a need for control. What I did know was that I had to have her. And for that, he needed to know everything about her.

It started with the simplest thing: public information. He searched her name on the internet, scanned social media profiles, checked any trace he could find. Y/N, 25, was a woman without much presence in the digital world. There were no flashy photos, no personal posts that gave away too much about her life.

Most of her photos were of books, of quiet landscapes, of a simple and seemingly happy life.

He didn't care. He continued searching. And he found it.

Y/N had a sister, a fact that didn't entirely surprise him. Her name was Hye-Jin, and she lived in the same city, in a relatively close neighborhood. The family seemed united, but modest. The sister, Hye-Jin, was married and had two small children, a 5-year-old girl and a 3-year-old boy. Y/N used to take care of them sometimes when her sister and brother-in-law couldn't. Her parents lived in Busan, a few hours away, which seemed to be the only part of her life that actually involved trips out of the city.

She was a woman everyone trusted. But there was something else.

There was a brother.

And he was her weakness.

His name was Min-Soo, a man who seemed to have no direction in life. He didn't have a stable job, he didn't have a family of his own, and the worst thing: he had an addiction.

Bets.

It didn't take him long to figure it out. Just a couple of calls to the right places, a few questions in the circles where money changed hands in a matter of seconds. Min-Soo was known in underground gambling clubs. He lost more than he earned, and when he didn't have money, he used names that weren't his. The last name he had used was Y/N. He had applied for a loan in her name, an absurd amount of money that she would never have asked for. And now, the creditors were looking for her.

It wasn't difficult to imagine the scene. Y/N, receiving threatening calls, maybe even visits from men who wouldn't accept excuses.

Her once peaceful life was now shrouded in fear and despair.

And he knew it.

Y/N seemed to be the cornerstone of their family, someone everyone turned to, someone who, without asking for anything in return, offered her help.

But he saw something more in that. I saw vulnerability.

He knew that the poor, those who always gave without receiving, were the ones who most needed what he had: money, power, and a world of luxuries. And in his mind, Y/N wasn't cut out for such a simple life. I wasn't. She deserved something much greater, much more valuable, and he was willing to give it to her.

He came to that conclusion as he watched her leave the bookstore for another day, with her worn coat, the scarf that already showed signs of use, and her step light but firm.

It was as if her carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. That night, like so many others, he decided to follow her.

His black car was parked outside the building for longer than usual. He watched from the darkness as Y/N entered the building and headed to the second floor, like always. There was no doubt that she lived there. And although he didn't care about the discomfort he might be causing, the truth was that he already had everything planned. Hours passed, and night fell on the city. From his car, he watched the window of his apartment, waiting for that moment when the lights would finally go out. When he saw that, shortly after midnight, the light in the living room faded, he knew it was time.

He approached the building with firm steps, knowing exactly where he was. Security cameras were no longer a concern for him; I knew how to avoid them. The front door was locked, but the doorman already knew him, or at least had seen him in the neighborhood, and did not suspect his intentions.

He walked stealthily through the hallways until he reached Y/N's door. He looked around to make sure no one was nearby and, with a dexterity that surprised no one but himself, effortlessly opened the door.

The smell of aged wood and home-cooked food greeted him as he entered her home. It was not a luxurious house, far from it. It was modest, perhaps a little messy, with cheap furniture and decorations that had clearly been purchased at thrift stores. There were books everywhere, some even on the floor, and the soft light of a floor lamp illuminated the place softly.

He smiled with satisfaction.

Everything was in its place. It all seemed so... real. So simple. And, at the same time, so devoid of what she truly deserved.

He walked around the apartment, examining every corner, touching without leaving a trace on the objects he found: a broken mug on the kitchen table, a folded blanket on the couch, a framed photo of his family on the fireplace.

But what really caught his attention was the room. As he approached, he peeked through the crack in the door. There she was, lying on her bed, hugging a pillow, with a calm expression on her face. She's breathing was regular, calm.

It was his time.

The desire to touch her, to get closer to her, invaded him. He wanted to caress her hair, feel the softness of her skin, and mark her as his. But he held back. I knew it wasn't the time. Patience, waiting, was an essential part of the game.

But the temptation continued to grow within him.

"Soon," he said to himself. "You'll be mine soon, Y/N."

Before leaving, he once again observed every corner of her humble life. And as he walked away, he smiled to himself. There was still much to do. But it didn't matter. In the end, he would be the one to give her everything she needed.

And she would be his.

This story does not follow the plot of the series, tell me if you like it and if you want me to tag you in the chapters🫶

Tag list:

@beebeechaos, @onyxmango, @muchwita

MASTERLIST

[tachiibabe]

━╋ ݁ ⏜ ꒰ GOOD LUCK, BABE! ꒱ ── momo yaoyorozu x fem!reader / tenya iida x fem!reader ๑ ֹ ₊ㅤ

𓏲𝄢 momo does love you with all her heart. she does. but why can’t she let herself be with you if she does. now she’s here, as your maid of honor, watching you get married to someone that isn’t her.

𝜗𝜚 ─ warnings : angst. mostly written in third person. first time writer…bear with me please :p (might rewrite this in the future if i get better)

༝༚༝༚ ⊰ momo didn’t know if she wanted to rewind time or not. she wanted too, but she didn’t after seeing how happy you were. seeing your smile and how your eyes lit up were everything to her. and she wouldn’t dare take that away from you.

you deserved to be happy with the one you truly loved. she may have had your heart first but she didn’t keep it. now you have found love and solace in another. she wasn’t upset or sad, she was happy for you, and couldn’t wait for the rest of your future. but she was selfish, and wished that it was her, you were getting married to.

it was her fault, truly, it was. maybe if she accepted that her heart called out for you, it could have been her.

“i love you.”

words you had said to her when both of you were still attending UA. she knew you meant them. she whispered the same words to you. nothing came of it though…because of herself.

she wanted more with you, she wanted to live life with you right by her side, experience things she never had before. she wanted to be with you, live with you, marry you, raise a family with you. it didn’t happen like she had planned.

for some reason she couldn’t accept her heart yearning for you. so she put her feelings aside, and forced herself to love someone else. she’ll never forget the night she told you.

tears streamed down your face, and you asked why. she didn’t answer you, but she apologized. that wasn’t any better. you weren’t going hang to her, you weren’t going to put your life on pause for her no matter how much she meant to you. but you did tell her that when she realized it was too late for her to come back to you, you’ll tell her ‘i told you so’. and how much you hated it.

༝༚༝༚ ⊰ the morning of your wedding she woke up next to you, in the same bed. your eyes were still closed, lips parted slightly. she counted each mole on your face, and memorized their places. she watched your body going up and down gently with every breath you took. she knew in just a few hours she could never ask herself if their was a possibility of you being hers.

she watched you for a few more minutes. nostalgia waves over her, and just for second. in that tiny second for her, you both were back in the UA dorms.

she pushed the memories away, and gently called your name. at five a.m. you both woke, other bride maids tiredly walking in to get ready with you. the whole time she watched you, as you got your makeup done. she always loved your eyes, loves the shape and color of them. she watched as you got your hair done, your curls full of life, falling down your back.

she helped you into your wedding dress. a beautiful white dress with blue rhinestones coating the train. she softly slide the dress over your figure and went behind you to zip it up. her hand hovered over the zipper, her fingers twitched and she zipped the dress up.

she admired you whole, from the top to bottom. taking in your presence, being able to stand next to you was a blessing for her. she put a hand on your cheek and smiled at you saying nothing. and you smiled back, leaning into her palm.

you love her, truly. but you weren’t in love with her. not anymore. you cared for her and you would never stop.

she got in her place, standing next to the the bridesmaids. she watched you walk down the isle. for her, it was an eternity. the realization slowly sinking in, that you would belong to another.

she looked away slightly as you shared a kiss with your now husband, tenya iida.

the after party being full of life, while she felt like hers broke apart. as you both were eating, a very familiar song came on, you turned towards her, you eyes lighting up. you laughed and told your husband you were going to dance, giving him a wide smile and kissing his cheek. you grabbed her hand without another word and pulled her to dance.

“are you happy?” momo asked you softly. “i’m really happy, especially since you were by my side” you told her.

“are you happy, momo?”

no. she wasn’t.

“…i am” she smiled softly, her eyes slightly filling with tears.

you smiled and nodded, wiping her eyes. “don’t cry, i think you’re too beautiful to cry.” and in return she laughs.

“i told you so. i told you we’d be happy”

oh, how those first four words sent pain to her heart. if her heart wasn’t completely shattered, it was now. and once again in that moment she wished she had never set you aside. she wished she had let herself accept your love and your heart. she now truly wished should could rewind time.

now she’s standing face to face with “i told you so.”

© tachiibabe … do not translate, copy or plagiarize any of my work. (whenever i decide to write….)

tags : @fishii28