#tiny hint of who I will be adding soon

[surielstea]

I'm sorry but I just read Undercover Affection (which was ABSOLUTELY amazing) and the first thought on my mind at the end of it was "Rhys won't be getting his debrief anytime soon" lol

THIS GAVE ME SUCH A SILLY IDEAAA

Read this fic to understand what this little drabble about 💙💙

“They should be back by now.” Rhys’ voice broke the silence, a mixture of frustration and worry in his tone. It was late—far too late for him to still be awake, especially when his mate needed rest.

“Go to sleep, Rhys.” Feyre’s voice was muffled, her face pressed into the pillows, the weight of motherhood clearly pulling her under. “I’m sure they’re already back, just tired… they’ll debrief tomorrow.” She added, her words slurred by the drowsiness seeping into her body.

“No,” Rhys insisted, though his voice lacked the conviction he hoped for. “Azriel wouldn’t wait to debrief. Something’s not right.”

He shifted, sitting up in the dark, his eyes scanning the room restlessly. Feyre, her features softened by exhaustion, barely responded, but the tired sigh that escaped her lips spoke volumes.

“They’re likely sleeping, just like we should be.” She muttered, a hint of exasperation beneath her words. “We both need rest, Rhys.”

But Rhys was already slipping out of bed, unable to shake the feeling gnawing at him. He reached for her hand for a moment, brushing his thumb over her skin, and she sighed, the soft breath of a woman on the brink of sleep.

“Can you check on Nyx when you come back?” Feyre mumbled, her eyes barely open, already drifting. Her trust in him was a comforting balm, even in this restless state.

Rhys smiled softly, brushing a lock of her hair from her face, his gaze lingering on the serenity she carried even in sleep. “Of course, darling.” He whispered, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead before he winnowed away.

Outside, The Cabin was quiet, the wards preventing anyone from entering unnoticed. Rhys stood in the shadows, the familiar pulse of his power radiating as he reached for Azriel through their bond, his voice firm and commanding.

“You two alive in there?”

Azriel’s voice, strained and breathless, echoed in his mind. “Barely.”

The immediate concern that flared in Rhys’ chest made his heart thud painfully against his ribs. “Are you in danger?” he demanded, stepping toward the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

“If you come in here, it’ll be the last choice you ever make,” Azriel snapped, his warning sharp, tense.

Rhys froze, caught off guard. The sheer force of protectiveness in Azriel’s tone made something evidently clear, the primal aspect of the Frenzy twisting Az’s usually calm demeanor. It was rare for his friend to act this way, and Rhys knew that the mating bond made people act in ways they couldn’t always control.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “So, my plan worked?”

“Rhys. Out of my head, I don’t have room for you.” Azriel’s voice was tight, almost pained.

Rhys chuckled, a low sound of amusement and disbelief. He leaned against the doorframe, deciding to push his luck a little. “I’ll have the others cover your workload for the next week.”

Azriel gritted his teeth, irritation laced with exhaustion. “Make it two.”

Rhys didn’t answer at once, the amusement flickering in his eyes. He nodded to himself, already winnowing back toward home.

When he arrived, his eyes fell first on the soft glow coming from Nyx’s room. He moved quietly down the hallway, his footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden floors. Peeking inside, he found his son nestled in the crib, his tiny chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath, a serene smile stretching across Rhys’ face as he marveled at the small being who had changed their lives so completely.

With a final, affectionate glance, he closed the door softly, the faintest of smiles lingering on his lips.

Returning to his bedroom, he closed the door behind him with a soft click, the weight of the night settling into his bones. The room was dim, the only light coming from the gentle glow of the moon streaming through the curtains. Feyre stirred as he slipped back into bed, and her voice was barely a whisper as she reached for him.

“Are they sleeping?” Her voice, thick with exhaustion, was a balm to his fraying nerves.

Rhys brushed his lips over her brow, a warm kiss that spoke volumes of his love for her. “Far from it, darling,” he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with affection. He smiled softly, watching her face as she began to drift off.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, despite her exhaustion. “Plan worked then, hm?” she mumbled, the words slurring together as sleep took over.

Rhys nodded, though she was already slipping deeper into slumber before he could respond. The serene expression on her face mirrored their son’s, and for a moment, Rhys allowed himself to simply bask in the quiet.

He kissed her again, once, then twice, his love and gratitude for her reflected in each gentle touch. As the peaceful rhythm of her breathing lulled him into a sense of calm, Rhys finally let go of the tension that had been gnawing at him all night.

He pulled her closer, settling beside her, and in the quiet of the night, he finally let sleep claim him as well.

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (2)

Summary: Terry and Treece are feeling the sparks again.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,659

Part: 2 of ??

Warnings: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Previous

Grocery shopping was Patrice's private pastime. She was the queen of her universe when she walked through aisles every Saturday morning. Every flash bargain and value-sized item bent to her will for a chance at making it to her humble abode and fulfilling its one purpose in life. Employees greeted her like royalty. Customers started conversations like old friends, always giving her the scoop on any sale they'd overheard in their neighborhood Facebook groups. She was happy. She was zen. She was in her element.

"Do you need this?" 

She was a woman dragging around a large man intent on breaking any modicum of concentration she had left.

Patrice stopped and looked over her shoulder at Terry, who held a bag of cotton candy grapes up in the air for her inspection. "No, TJ. Put it down." 

"Why? You like grapes." 

"Because we're getting grapes from the farmer's market. Now, put it back."

Her rebuke was sweet but stern. Having him as a way too familiar roommate was becoming easier as the days passed. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the freedom to go for a walk, watch a movie on the couch, or even enjoy an intimate moment alone in her own house without a man looming somewhere in the very near background. 

He didn't allow her to travel alone, and she never had the energy to protest. 

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," he grumbled as he put the grapes back in their place.

"Then stop acting like one. I have a list. I know what I need." 

"I know what I need." He exaggerated his mimicry for maximum effect. 

"You see how that was childish?" 

"Whatever." 

Patrice ignored him in favor of browsing packages of beef for the best deal. If she didn't respond, maybe he would get the hint. And, for a few moments, he did. Terry took a break in conversation to scan the immediate area quietly. He noted each patron and their most important details before checking the exit and entry points at the front of the store. They weren't secure enough, but he could manage if the situation required evacuation.

A lack of action soon turned his attention back to Patrice, who still hadn't decided. He gave her a slow once over and smiled at how much focus she put into such a simple choice. Her brow remained furrowed in intense thought, transforming her into the ninth-grade Patrice he met during a chance encounter in the library. Truthfully, he didn't have much of an opinion either way. He just wanted to talk to her every second of the day, even if it meant being annoying. 

"Get that one." 

His sudden interruption startled Patrice out of her zone, adding a final straw to an already exhausted camel's back. Terry grinned in triumph as she closed her eyes for a calming breath. 

"Terry," she spoke, slow and measured to keep the peace. "Take the other half of this list and get out of my face. Don't come back until you find everything. I'll meet you at the register." 

She didn't give him much time to protest before she shoved a carefully torn half of paper into his chest and sent him on his way. He gave her a sarcastic salute, which she waved off without a second look. She needed a moment alone and didn't care if he came back with Fruity O's instead of Fruit Loops if that meant he would be out of her hair for more than 10 minutes. 

Terry found himself slowly meandering around the grocery store with a tiny basket in tow, exhausted by all the options on each aisle. If Patrice hadn't been so meticulous with her lists, he would've given up on the mission and gone back to home base with his tail tucked between his legs. 

After sourcing the perfect pint of Oreo ice cream as an apology for his behavior, Terry found himself drawn to the sound of laughter on the next aisle. Sure enough, Patrice was parked by the frozen vegetables and engaged with a man dressed in the store's colors with his eyes directed far too low to be looking at Patrice's face. 

Terry quickly reached her location, stopping behind Patrice to show her guest the full extent of his scowl. 

Patrice noticed how his once loose body language had gone stiff and sighed. She didn't need to investigate the problem. Only her human pitbull could make a man cower in fear like that. 

"Derrick, this is Terry. Terry, this is Derrick. He usually helps me get stuff to my car." 

"Ah, man. It's a good thing I'm here, right? We don't need you taking too many breaks from stocking. Mornin' rush can get crazy." 

"Terry," Patrice admonished with a harsh whisper and an elbow to his stomach. 

Terry remained steadfast, keeping his eyes on Derrick while taking one step closer. A taunting smile tugged on the right side of his mouth. He waited on any sign of fight from his unspoken adversary. 

Derrick stood in palpable discomfort, sizing up the outcomes if he decided to test his luck. Each mental scenario led him back to some instance of physical harm on his last shift of the week. He had plans for the weekend, none involving a trip to the emergency room.

Patrice stood between a rock and a hardheaded man, praying that the Lord would end her suffering.

"That's what I was about to say," Derrick answered before shifting his attention back to Patrice. "I think I oughta get going. See you around, Ms. Ellis?" 

"Same time next week." 

He nodded in half-hearted agreement and hurried out of dodge, with Terry keeping a watchful eye until he was safely around the corner. 

Patrice groaned with one hand, rubbing tight circles at her temple. "What in the hell was that about?" 

"He wouldn't even look you in the eye. If he can't look you in the eye when he's speaking, he can't protect you, and he doesn't respect you." 

"I'm not looking for his protection. I need this water loaded into my trunk every week when you aren't here!" 

"I'll never not be here. Problem solved."

His declaration was so sure, so matter of fact, that it left Patrice no room for retort. So she resorted to schoolyard antics. 

It was her turn to mock him with an exaggerated, deep voice. "Problem solved. Push the damn cart since you got so much energy." 

He obliged without protest and a proud, self-satisfied grin that Patrice couldn't see while she led the way to the register. An unexpected system error had halted all transactions, leaving them log jammed in a long line of restless customers. 

Together, they stood sharing light banter and running through weekend tasks, resembling any other couple making a store run to strangers observing them from the outside looking in. Former acquaintances, however, had no problem drawing attention to the pair from three spots back in line. 

"I know that ain't who I think it is." Both Patrice's and Terry's eyes darted up to find the source of the loud outburst, only to whisper 'fuck’ in tandem when they spotted Katrina Spivey waving her arms to grab their attention. "Hey, Terry Richmond!" 

Terry pretended to ignore being singled out by turning his back, earning a stifled laugh from Patrice. Katrina, not one to be deterred, used the moment to push past patrons in line until she reached her destination with a host of angry faces in her wake. 

"Well, if it ain't Mr. and Miss Homecoming in the flesh. You two finally stopped kidding around and got married?" 

"No," Terry answered without much explanation, his back still turned. Patrice reluctantly made up his slack. 

"What Terry meant to say was that we're not married. We're not together at all, actually. But he's here to visit me for a while." 

"What a blessing it is to have friends you can lean on when you need a helping hand."

"Amen."

An awkward tension settled into the conversation's lull, compounded by Terry's outright refusal to engage. Patrice was in deep water without a paddle and a co-captain who had already jumped ship.

Katrina wouldn't let the conversation end and take her newfound place in line. She continued to pry.

"Both of y'all look good! How long has it been since we last saw each other, huh? Gotta be since Terry's graduation send-off." 

Patrice feigned interest with a hollow smile. "Yeah, I think that was it. A looong time ago. All grown up now."

"And thank God for it! I remember how sad you looked all night because ol' Terry was moving away. Like a little crying puppy!" 

Katrina's laughter didn't quite reach Terry or Patrice, who bristled at mentioning one of the more contentious nights in their friendship. 

"Everybody's been a little young and dumb, right? Like when you and BJ got caught underneath the bleachers during state championships." 

Checkmate. A little reminder of her indiscretions had turned Katrina's condescending smile into a mean mug that could burn through anyone not equally as stubborn. 

Terry showed his approval with a light nudge against Patrice's arm. That was his girl. Sweet as pie but a tongue coated in venom when backed against the wall. He'd been on the receiving end on one too many occasions. It felt good to be on the winning side this time. 

Three seconds of a Western standoff had culminated in a gift sent via store intercom. 

"Apologies for the stoppage, folks. Our registers are back up and running. Thanks for your patience." 

Terry moved the cart to place items on the conveyor belt while Patrice waited for the conversation to resume.

Recovering from the sharp end of a verbal lashing, Katrina cleared her throat and grabbed hold of her cart in preparation to skip lines. 

"Well, I don't wanna hold y'all too much longer. If y'all don't think you're too good to mingle with us Francis High Hornets anymore, Corey's throwing a little Juneteenth gathering at his daddy's pool hall. This is my personal invite for the both of you."

"We were already invited. Maybe we'll make an appearance." 

"That'd be grand." 

"I bet it would."

Nice nasty smiles passed between the two foes until Katrina was off to harass some other unsuspecting patron. 

Patrice tried to let go of her frustration with an angry huff before turning to catch up with Terry, who was casually moving groceries from the bagging station to the shopping basket. He waited a moment before acknowledging the obvious. 

"You over it now, or do I need to iron a shirt for tonight?" 

"I'm over it," Patrice answered plainly. She calmly handed over payment for the day's groceries and smiled ever so sweetly to bid the cashier farewell. To an outsider, she'd returned to her zen state without much effort. Terry was no outsider and kept a cautious eye on her as they loaded bags into the trunk and got settled in the front seat of her SUV. 

"You sure you're good," he asked as he backed out of their parking space. 

"I'm sure, TJ," she answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Terry started a mental countdown for the other shoe to drop. "I'll iron the shirt. You need to shave." 

--------

The final verdict? A plain white T-shirt. 

An hour of searching, choosing, rejecting, and choosing again led them to a plain, crisp white tee. Patrice said it went better with her yellow wrap dress, which she chose because her girlfriends were all in dresses, and she wanted to match the occasion. It all sounded like made-up bullshit to Terry. Still, he accepted being treated like a Ken Doll because it meant that his Barbie would agree to a two-hour hard stop at the festivities. 

He'd already started his stopwatch when they pulled up on a busy street in front of an even busier hole in the wall.

The smell of fresh grease greeted them upon crossing the threshold from outside into Mister C's Bar and Lounge. Fried fish, French fries, and wings in any flavor you could ask for sat in the service window, waiting for their delivery to any one of the patrons packed from wall to cinderblock wall. Terry inhaled deeply and let his scowl drop for one second to fantasize about a bite of Corey Sr.'s signature catfish and fries basket. 

Next came the familiar mix of sweat and weed near the dancefloor as bodies intertwined to some GloRilla song neither of them recognized. Thick traffic in the center of the room paused Patrice on her path to the pool tables, locking her between Terry and a crowd that wouldn't budge. 

"Excuse me!" she shouted over a swell of crowd reaction to a new song. "I need to get by!" 

No response. Not even a look back as she used a hand to create space between her and a group of men debating nonsense. Before she could try again, Terry used one hand to push her forward and his voice to clear the way. 

"Yo, step out of the way. We need to get through." Direct and to the point. He left no room for misinterpretation, and his baritone's boom left no confusion about who was calling the shots. Patrice watched with her lips slightly parted in awe. 

The first reaction to his demand was the embers of confrontation. Each member of the group sized Terry up, noticing his heavy scowl and size in comparison to their own. Then, they realized that this wasn't a winning game. 

The flashiest of the group nodded, though disdain at the mere suggestion that he was in the way kept his mouth in a tight frown. "Yeah, you good, OG. My fault." 

Another light push propelled Patrice forward as Terry maintained with each man until they had passed. 

Once they were out of the mix and nearing their destination, he advised, "Stay close." Patrice nodded her compliance, shocking Terry into a slight smile in appreciation for her obedience. 

Sparks of electricity shot between them but had no time to turn into a total current before Corey called out to them. 

"Treece! Terry! We over here!" 

Surrounded by familiar faces from Francis Edward's Class of 2010, Corey welcomed them with open arms and his ever-present 100-watt smile. At a slight 5'6", 150 on his best day, he'd always been larger than his frame would suggest. Loud and flamboyant had always been the name of his game, earning him anything he set his sights on.

It didn't take long for the trio and Corey's wife, June, to fall into familiar habits and friendly jabs at one another as they took their seats in a makeshift VIP section by the pool tables. The Three-Headed Monster was their moniker in high school, and they moved like a military force. Terry was the enforcer, while Corey and Patrice served as judge and prosecutor. If you had an issue with one, you had an issue with all three. 

"Your security is lax. Who trained them?" Terry pointed out during a dead spot in conversation. 

Corey followed his eyeline to the two young men standing at the door and back. "My boy at the sheriff's office. What you see?" 

"They look soft. It wouldn't take much to overpower them and get in for some drama. You only have one exit. Somebody breeches this place, and you're on the hook for a tragedy. Plus, the one on the left is scared. He'll be the first to leave if things get hot. Watch him."

"Impressive," June remarked, smiling at Patrice, who subtly playfully waved her off.

"Hm." Corey took a long pull from his cigar, taking in the information before responding." You here for a minute, T? I got some connections over at Liberty if you looking to get back in the swing of things." 

"Contract?" 

"Whatever you need, man. You know I'm good for it."

Terry looked over at Patrice for some indication that she believed in Corey, and she returned with a subtle nod and encouraging smile. June looked between them and then at her husband before clearing her throat. 

"It looks like Kel and his boy are back on the pool table. You know he still owes you a game from when he cheated last week." 

"Hell yeah," Corey agreed as he turned in his seat to get a look at his enemy. "Aye, T, you trynna make $100 real quick?" 

"It's either that or you gotta come dance with me," Patrice challenged. "This rum and pineapple got me feeling a little loose." 

She wasn't lying. A taste of alcohol in her system was starting to make her want to explore parts of the Patrice she thought she left at North Carolina A&T. Every heart-rattling thump of Megan Thee Stallion's latest and greatest had her thinking about reminding everyone in the room that she could move with the best of them. 

Her little grind in her seat made Terry show teeth in a small grin before he stood to his full height and looked down at her. His eyes were hooded and dreamy from some combination of exhaustion and a contact high, reintroducing that spark from before.

"Don't go too far. I'll be back with your money in a little bit." 

Patrice's tongue felt too heavy to respond coherently past a punch-drunk nod. June watched her watch him make his way down the platform and into the crowd until both men were out of earshot. 

She whistled and shook her head. "That's a good-looking man, ain't he?" 

"Who? Corey? He alright. He's like a slightly more attractive Taye Diggs." 

"First off, ouch," June laughed. "Second, I was talking about Terry. He was cute in high school, but I'll be damned if that second puberty didn't take him to a whole 'nother level." 

"Don't tell him that. His head is big enough."

"You know you wrong for that." If the music weren't so loud, everyone in the building would've heard the pair guffawing over Patrice's petty insult. 

Once they contained themselves, June took a sip from her margarita and shifted in her seat to get closer to Patrice.

"He likes you still." Five plain words shook Patrice internally as she struggled to maintain a poker face. June continued. "I see the way he looks for your approval and damn near trips on himself to fulfill your every whim. You're all he talks about when he and Corey get on the phone." 

"They talk?" 

"From time to time. I think he needs a man's opinion sometimes, you know?" 

Patrice wrestled with the influx of information as June continued. 

"That man is mean as a snake. Always has been and always will be. But, you bring something out of him. Even if you can't always see it." 

"If that were the case, things would've been different for us back then." 

June shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you're right where you're supposed to be. I know I can't make you do what you don't wanna do, but if what I say means anything, focus on today. Thirty-two-year-old Terry is so much more prepared to love you than eighteen-year-old Terry was." 

Punctuating her advice, June tapped Patrice's leg twice before taking a step away to refill their tray of food. 

Focus on today.

The words replayed in her mind repeatedly; even after their two hours were up, Terry had returned $100 richer, and they were back on the road to their quiet slice of the world. 

They rode together in content quiet, letting the Quiet Storm host talk while Terry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. 

Randomly, he would glance in her direction, assuming she had lost the sleep battle to her old friend Bacardi. When he reached over to adjust the air vent on her side of the car, he was surprised when she mumbled a low "thank you." 

"My bad. I thought you were sleeping." 

"No. My head is swimming, though. Don't let me drink that much anymore." she laughed. 

He chuckled along with her but didn't agree to keep her from letting her hair down occasionally. In his eyes, seeing her relaxed and carefree was a gift to the world. 

The opening notes of Tevin Campbell's "I'm Ready" swirled around them, sounding like a secret message to Patrice as she focused on streetlights to keep the contents of her dinner inside her stomach. 

"Hey," she whispered before she could catch herself. Terry acknowledged her with a glance. "Do you think you're still scared?" 

"Of what?" 

"Of whatever kept you away for so long?"

He thought for a moment, wanting to make sure he was clear with his word. "No. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of bringing you along for a ride I might not survive. That's not a threat anymore. So, no, I'm not scared anymore."

You know I'm ready

To love you

Forever 

Patrice reached across the center console until she reached Terry's hand to interlock her fingers with his. He gave her an appreciative squeeze without taking his eyes off the road. 

"I-I don't think I'm scared anymore either."

Her heart raced wildly behind her ribs, and Patrice was that if Terry pressed his wrist close enough to hers, he could feel her pulse accelerate. He didn't mind either way. Sweaty palms and trembling fingers would never be enough for him to let her go. Not again. 

As if she'd break if he moved too fast, Terry brought her hand to his lips slowly. One kiss. Another. Two more. And a final one for good measure. 

When he'd had his fill of her skin, he pressed the spot up against his cheek. He needed to feel and absorb her until they were one body. 

But, for tonight at least, this was enough.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse

[bratzkoo]

Merging Arrangments | wonwoo pt. 1

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: chaebol heir! wonwoo x chaebol heiress!/ nurse! reader Genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut Rating: PG-15 to NC-17 Word count: 4k~ Warnings/note: for my Anna, my beautiful nurse. Happy birthday!

Everything marked with [M] have mature scenes and should not be read by minors.

summary: Jeon Wonwoo's been smitten with you for years, as the two of you enter an arranged marriage, he hopes you'll feel the same.

Arrange marriage! au

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries , @tokitosun , @gaslysainz , @armycarat2612

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The Grand Hyatt Seoul stood majestically against the backdrop of Namsan Mountain, its glass facade reflecting the late afternoon sun. Today, the luxurious hotel buzzed with an energy beyond its usual five-star opulence. It was playing host to the wedding of the year—the union of Jeon Group and Kit Medical Group through their heirs, Jeon Wonwoo and Y/N Kit.

In the grand ballroom, staff members scurried about like well-dressed ants, making last-minute adjustments to flower arrangements and place settings. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over tables draped in silk, each centerpiece a small fortune of exotic blooms. The air hummed with anticipation and barely concealed gossip.

"I heard it was arranged just two months ago," a waiter whispered to his colleague as they adjusted the champagne flutes at the head table.

The other waiter nodded knowingly. "Chaebol marriages," he replied with a hint of cynicism. "Always about business, never about love."

"Shh!" hissed a nearby supervisor. "Less talking, more working. The guests will be arriving soon."

Outside, a fleet of black luxury cars began to arrive, disgorging a who's who of Korean high society. Cameras flashed as celebrities, business tycoons, and politicians made their way into the hotel, their designer outfits and dazzling jewelry a clear display of wealth and status.

---

In a luxurious suite upstairs, Y/N Kit sat before a gilded mirror, her reflection a picture of bridal perfection—and internal turmoil. Her raven hair was swept up in an intricate updo, adorned with tiny diamond-encrusted pins that caught the light with every slight movement. The wedding dress, a custom Vera Wang creation, hugged her figure before flowing out in a cascade of delicate lace and silk. Yet, her eyes, usually bright and determined, now held a hint of uncertainty, a stark contrast to the flawless makeup that adorned her face.

"Miss Y/N, you look absolutely stunning," her makeup artist gushed, stepping back to admire her work. "Like a princess from a fairy tale."

Y/N managed a weak smile, the effort evident. "Thank you," she murmured, her gaze fixed on her reflection, as if trying to recognize the woman staring back at her.

As the artist packed up her supplies, Y/N's mind drifted to two months ago, the day that had set this all in motion...

Y/N had just finished a grueling shift at the hospital, her scrubs rumpled and her hair in a messy ponytail. She'd been looking forward to a quiet evening at home, maybe catching up on some medical journals. Instead, she found her parents waiting in the living room, their faces a mix of excitement and stern determination."An arranged marriage?" Y/N had exclaimed, staring at her parents in disbelief. The words felt foreign on her tongue, like something out of a historical drama rather than her real life. "But I barely know Jeon Wonwoo!"

Her father's eyes had been steely, unyielding. "This union will secure the future of both our companies. It's your duty, Y/N. The merger with Jeon Group will allow us to expand our medical services, to help more people."

"But my nursing career—" Y/N had started, her voice trailing off as she saw the dismissive look in her mother's eyes.

"You can do charity work as a chaebol wife," her mother had interjected smoothly, reaching out to pat Y/N's hand. "It's time you left this nurse phase behind. Think of all the good you can do with the resources of both families at your disposal."

Y/N had felt the walls closing in, her carefully laid plans crumbling around her. "Don't I get a say in this?" she had asked, hating how small her voice sounded.

Her father's expression had softened slightly. "Sometimes, Y/N, we must put aside our personal desires for the greater good. This is one of those times."

A knock at the door jolted Y/N back to the present. She blinked rapidly, banishing the memory and the tears that threatened to form. The door opened to reveal her parents, her father resplendent in a bespoke tuxedo, her mother glittering with diamonds that probably cost more than most people's houses.

"Oh, darling," her mother cooed, gliding into the room with practiced grace. "You look perfect. Like a true Kit heiress."

Her father nodded approvingly, his eyes sweeping over Y/N with a businessman's attention to detail. "Remember, Y/N," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "smile for the cameras. This wedding is about more than just you and Wonwoo. It's about the future of both our families, and the thousands of people who rely on our companies."

Y/N felt her chest tighten at his words, the weight of expectation settling on her shoulders like a heavy cloak. She managed a nod, not trusting her voice to remain steady if she spoke.

As her parents left, murmuring about greeting guests, Y/N allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to center herself. The quiet was short-lived, however, as the door burst open again, admitting her best friends, Alexys and Ela.

"Wow, unnie!" Ela exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration. "You look like a princess from a manhwa!"

Alexys whistled low, circling Y/N with an exaggerated appraising look. "A very expensive princess. I think your veil costs more than my apartment. Actually, probably more than my entire apartment building."

Despite herself, Y/N felt a laugh bubble up. "Alexys, behave!" she admonished, but there was no heat in her words.

"What?" Alexys grinned, striking a pose that was likely meant to be model-esque but came off more comical. "I'm just saying, if you need someone to carry that train, I volunteer as tribute. I could use a workout, and that dress looks heavy enough to count as weightlifting."

As they laughed, Y/N felt some of her tension ease. These were her people, the ones who knew her as just Y/N, not the Kit heiress or the future Mrs. Jeon. But as quickly as it had come, the moment of levity passed, and doubt crept back in, darkening her expression.

"I don't know if I can do this," Y/N confessed quietly, sinking onto a nearby chaise lounge. "It's all happening so fast. Two months ago, I was focused on my nursing career, on making a difference. And now..."

Ela sat beside her, squeezing her hand supportively. "You're the strongest person I know, Y/N. You'll get through this, and you'll find a way to make a difference, no matter what."

Alexys nodded, her face uncharacteristically serious as she knelt in front of Y/N. "And we'll be right here with you, every step of the way. Although," she added, a mischievous glint returning to her eye, "if you want to make a run for it, I've got a getaway car and a foolproof plan involving two wigs, a llama, and a hot air balloon."

Despite herself, Y/N giggled, the absurd image lightening her mood. "I think I'll pass on the llama plan. But thank you, both of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably be a lot more stressed and a lot less entertained," Alexys quipped, standing up and smoothing out her bridesmaid dress. "Now, let's get you married, shall we? I've got a bet going with one of the groomsmen on whether I can catch the bouquet while doing a backflip."

As they prepared to leave the room, Y/N took one last look in the mirror. The woman looking back at her was a bride, yes, but she was also still Y/N. With her friends by her side, maybe she could face whatever came next.

---

In another suite, Jeon Wonwoo adjusted his bowtie for the thousandth time, his normally steady hands betraying his nerves. The sleek lines of his custom-tailored tuxedo accentuated his tall, lean frame, but it was his eyes that drew attention—dark, intelligent, and currently filled with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

"You'll wear it out if you keep fiddling," Mingyu, his best friend and best man, commented from where he lounged on a nearby chair. Despite his relaxed posture, Mingyu cut an impressive figure in his own tuxedo, his easy smile a stark contrast to Wonwoo's tense expression.

Wonwoo sighed, dropping his hands and turning to face his friend. "I just want everything to be perfect. This day... it means more than anyone realizes."

Mingyu's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You've been in love with her for years, haven't you? Y/N, I mean."

Wonwoo's silence was answer enough. His mind drifted to a charity gala five years ago, the first time he had truly seen Y/N Kit...

The ballroom had been crowded, full of Seoul's elite in expensive gowns and tuxedos. Wonwoo, then a university student being groomed to take over Jeon Group, had been making the rounds with his father, shaking hands and making small talk. That's when he had spotted her—Y/N Kit, still in high school, her eyes alight with passion as she spoke to a group of doctors.

"I want to be a nurse," she had been saying, her voice clear and determined. "Not just to follow in my family's footsteps, but to make a real difference. To be there for people when they're at their most vulnerable, to help them heal."

Wonwoo had found himself drawing closer, captivated by her enthusiasm, her compassion, her determination. In a room full of people discussing profit margins and market shares, she had been a breath of fresh air, talking about saving lives and making a difference.

That was the moment Wonwoo had fallen in love, though it had taken him some time to realize it.

"She doesn't know," Wonwoo said quietly, coming back to the present. "About my feelings, I mean. How could she? We've barely interacted outside of formal events."

Mingyu stood, clapping a hand on Wonwoo's shoulder. "Maybe this is your chance to show her, then. You're not just the Jeon heir, Wonwoo. You're a good man, with a lot to offer. Let her see that side of you."

A sharp knock interrupted them, causing both men to straighten instinctively. Wonwoo's parents entered, his father's eyes immediately zeroing in on Wonwoo's slightly askew bowtie.

"Fix that," he said brusquely, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The merger papers will be signed right after the ceremony. Everything must be perfect. The future of Jeon Group depends on this union."

Wonwoo nodded stiffly, adjusting his bowtie with practiced ease. "Yes, father. I understand the importance of today."

His mother, softer but no less focused on appearances, stepped forward to smooth an invisible wrinkle from his lapel. "You look handsome, Wonwoo-ya. Y/N Kit is a lucky girl."

As his parents left, likely to check on some other aspect of the wedding preparations, Mingyu let out a low whistle. "And I thought my parents were intense. Is it always like this?"

Wonwoo managed a weak smile, a hint of his usual dry humor showing through. "Welcome to the chaebol life, Mingyu-ya. All glamour and no pressure, right?"

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, if anyone can handle it, it's you. Just remember, behind all this..." he gestured vaguely at the opulent room and their formal attire, "you're still Wonwoo. The guy who stays up too late reading, who can't function without his morning coffee, and who once tried to adopt every stray cat in the neighborhood."

Wonwoo felt some of his tension ease at Mingyu's words. "Thanks, Mingyu. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably be a lot more stressed and a lot less handsome," Mingyu quipped, echoing Wonwoo's earlier smile. "Now, let's get you married, shall we? I've got a best man speech to deliver, and I promise only minimal embarrassment."

As they prepared to leave the room, Wonwoo took one last look in the mirror. The man looking back at him was the Jeon heir, yes, but he was also still Wonwoo. With his best friend by his side and hope in his heart, maybe he could make this arranged marriage into something real.

---

The wedding ceremony was a blur of camera flashes and murmured vows. The hotel's grand ballroom had been transformed into a floral wonderland, with thousands of white roses and lilies creating an enchanted atmosphere. Soft classical music played as guests took their seats, a mix of Korea's business elite, celebrities, and politicians all eager to witness the union of two powerful families.

A hush fell over the crowd as the wedding march began. All eyes turned to the back of the room, where Y/N appeared, a vision in white. She walked down the aisle with measured steps, her arm linked with her father's. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, her expression a carefully composed mask of bridal serenity.

In the front row, Alexys gave Y/N a subtle thumbs up, while Ela dabbed at her eyes with a delicate handkerchief. A few rows back, Choi Seung-cheol watched, his hands clenched tightly in his lap, his heart breaking with each step Y/N took towards another man.

At the altar, Wonwoo's breath caught as he saw Y/N. She was breathtakingly beautiful, the embodiment of grace and elegance. But it was the flash of vulnerability in her eyes, visible only for a moment as she took her place beside him, that made his heart ache. He wanted nothing more than to take her hand and tell her everything would be alright, that they could face this new chapter together.

The officiant began the ceremony, his words about love and commitment ringing with a hint of irony given the arranged nature of the marriage. As they exchanged rings, Y/N's hand trembled slightly. Wonwoo gave her fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze. For a moment, their eyes met, and something passed between them—a flicker of understanding, perhaps even a spark of connection.

"I, Jeon Wonwoo, take you, Y/N Kit, to be my lawfully wedded wife," Wonwoo said, his voice steady and clear, infused with a warmth that surprised even him.

"I, Y/N Kit, take you, Jeon Wonwoo, to be my lawfully wedded husband," Y/N replied, her voice softer but no less resolute.

Then the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, and the moment was gone, swept away in a tide of applause and camera flashes.

---

The reception was a whirlwind of congratulations, speeches, and thinly veiled business discussions. Y/N and Wonwoo moved through it all in a daze, playing their parts perfectly—the blushing bride and the proud groom, the perfect chaebol couple.

During their first dance, Wonwoo leaned in close, the scent of Y/N's perfume filling his senses. "Are you okay?" he murmured, genuine concern in his voice.

Y/N plastered on a smile for the cameras, her eyes scanning the room even as she replied. "I'm fine," she said, her voice barely audible over the swelling music. "This is what's expected of us, isn't it? To play our parts."

Before Wonwoo could respond, to tell her that it didn't have to be just an act, the dance ended and they were once again swept into the crowd of well-wishers and business associates.

As Y/N made her rounds, graciously accepting congratulations and deflecting questions about future heirs with practiced ease, she found herself face to face with Seung-cheol. For a moment, neither spoke, the air between them thick with unspoken words and missed opportunities.

"You look beautiful," Seung-cheol finally said, his voice rough with emotion. He looked dashing in his suit, a far cry from the casual attire she was used to seeing him in at the hospital.

"Seung-cheol, I—" Y/N began, not sure what she wanted to say but feeling the need to say something.

"Congratulations," he cut her off, unable to meet her eyes. "I hope you'll be very happy." The words sounded hollow, a social nicety that did nothing to bridge the chasm that had opened between them.

He walked away before Y/N could respond, leaving her staring after him, a mix of regret and longing on her face. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a different world, one where she had followed her heart instead of her duty. But the moment passed, reality reasserting itself in the form of another well-wisher approaching to offer congratulations.

From across the room, Wonwoo watched the interaction between Y/N and Seung-cheol, his heart sinking. The look on Y/N's face as she watched Seung-cheol walk away spoke volumes. Wonwoo turned away, trying to quell the surge of jealousy and disappointment, only to nearly collide with Alexys.

"Whoa there, Mr. Chaebol," she said, steadying herself with a hand on his arm. "No need to sweep me off my feet. Save that for your bride." Her eyes twinkled with mischief, a stark contrast to the formal atmosphere around them.

Wonwoo blinked, taken aback by her casual tone. In his world of rigid formality, Alexys was like a breath of fresh air. "I'm sorry, I—"

Alexys waved him off. "No worries. I'm Alexys, by the way. Y/N's friend and designated baby girl." She leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice. "Between you and me, I think this party could use a little livening up. What do you say we spike the punch? I've got a flask of soju in my purse."

Despite himself, Wonwoo found a smile tugging at his lips. "I don't think that would be appropriate," he said, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Alexys sighed dramatically. "You're right, of course. Guess I'll have to settle for embarrassing Y/N with my dance moves instead. Fair warning: I've been practicing my 'Gangnam Style'. It's not pretty, but it's enthusiastic."

As she sashayed away, hips swaying exaggeratedly, Wonwoo felt some of his tension ease. If these were Y/N's friends, maybe there was hope for them yet. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a place in this vibrant, genuine world so different from the one he'd grown up in.

The rest of the reception passed in a blur of faces and formalities. Mingyu gave a heartfelt best man speech, carefully skirting around any mention of his own secret marriage while still managing to both embarrass and honor Wonwoo. 

"I've known Wonwoo since we were kids," Mingyu said, his voice carrying across the hushed ballroom. "And I can say without a doubt that he's the most loyal, caring, and intelligent person I know. Y/N," he turned to address the bride directly, "you're not just gaining a husband today. You're gaining a partner who will stand by you, support your dreams, and probably bore you with random historical facts."

A ripple of laughter went through the crowd, and Wonwoo felt a surge of gratitude for his friend. Beside him, he felt Y/N relax slightly, a small, genuine smile playing on her lips.

As the evening wore on, business associates cornered both sets of parents, eager to discuss the implications of this new alliance. Talks of mergers, stock prices, and market expansions filled the air, a constant reminder of the true nature of this union.

Ela and Mingyu exchanged secret glances across the room, their own hidden marriage a sharp contrast to the spectacle around them. At one point, they managed to steal a moment together near the dessert table.

"How are you holding up?" Ela asked, her voice low.

Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's harder than I thought, watching my best friend go through this. Knowing what we have..." he trailed off, his eyes conveying what he couldn't say aloud.

Ela squeezed his hand briefly. "I know. But we have to trust that they'll find their way, just like we did."

Their moment was interrupted by Alexys, who appeared with a plate piled high with desserts. "Don't mind me," she said, noticing their startled expressions. "Just here for the cake. Carry on with your secret rendezvous."

Ela rolled her eyes fondly. "Very subtle, Alexys."

"Subtlety is overrated," Alexys replied around a mouthful of cake. "Unlike this dessert. Seriously, you two should try this before the chaebol vultures descend and devour everything."

Finally, as the evening wound down, Y/N and Wonwoo found themselves alone for a moment on a balcony overlooking the Seoul skyline. The city stretched out before them, a glittering tapestry of lights and possibilities.

"It's beautiful," Y/N murmured, gazing out at the city lights. For a moment, she allowed herself to drop the perfect bride facade, her shoulders sagging slightly with exhaustion.

Wonwoo looked at her, illuminated by the soft glow of the lanterns. The fatigue evident in the line of her shoulders, the wistfulness in her eyes as she looked out at the city – it all made her seem more real, more human than the porcelain doll she'd appeared as all day. "Yes, it is," he agreed softly, though his eyes never left her face.

Y/N turned to him, and for a moment, the masks slipped away entirely. They were just two people, thrust into an impossible situation, trying to make the best of it. The vulnerability in Y/N's eyes matched the uncertainty Wonwoo felt.

"Wonwoo, I—" Y/N began, her voice hesitant.

"Y/N, dear!" her mother's voice cut through the moment like a knife. "It's time to leave for your honeymoon. The car is waiting."

The spell broken, Y/N and Wonwoo shared a rueful look before making their way back inside. They said their goodbyes, accepted final congratulations, and made their way to the waiting car.

As they settled into the backseat of the luxury vehicle, a heavy silence fell between them. The partition between them and the driver offered a semblance of privacy, but neither seemed to know what to say now that they were truly alone.

From the steps of the hotel, Seung-cheol watched the car pull away, his heart heavy. He'd come to the wedding hoping for... what? A last-minute confession? A dramatic objection? Now, watching the taillights disappear into the Seoul traffic, he felt the finality of the situation settle over him like a weight.

Ela and Mingyu stood together, their hands brushing but not quite holding in deference to the watchful eyes around them. Their own secret weighed on them as they watched their friends drive off into an uncertain future.

Alexys stood with her arm around Ela, for once without a quip. "They'll be okay, right?" she asked, her usual bravado absent.

Ela leaned into her friend's embrace. "I hope so," she said softly. "I really hope so."

The parents watched with satisfaction, already planning their next moves. Mergers to finalize, press releases to craft, the future of their empires to secure.

As the car merged into the Seoul traffic, Y/N and Wonwoo sat side by side, not touching, each lost in their own thoughts. The future stretched out before them, uncertain and daunting. The weight of expectations, of duty, of their own conflicted feelings – it all seemed overwhelming in the quiet of the car.

But as the city lights blurred past the windows, something shifted. Almost imperceptibly, Y/N's hand moved closer to Wonwoo's on the leather seat between them. And after a moment's hesitation, he took it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

They didn't look at each other. They didn't speak. But in that small gesture lay the tiniest seed of hope for Wonwoo – a hope that maybe, just maybe, they could face this uncertain future together. That perhaps, in time, duty could become desire, and an arranged marriage could become something real.

As the car wound its way through the streets of Seoul, taking them towards their honeymoon and the beginning of their life together, that small point of contact between them seemed to hold all the possibility in the world.

[dee-writes-anime]

Late Night Cravings with Toge Inumaki

FEATURING Toge Inumaki x Reader

SUMMARY It's 3am and you could really go for some nachos

CONTENT WARNINGS pregnancy trope, Toge being the biggest sweetheart, cutie fluffy stuff, I desperately need a nap, DETAILED mansplain of how I like my nachos mmmmm, cod roe :0

AUTHORS NOTE I promise I'm not dead, I've just been a little preoccupied with mental breakdowns and my coursework. ANYWHO, I hope you all enjoy this short little Toge shaped treat as my apology. I promise I will get to your requests soon, I've just been a little busy rotting away.

SERIES MASTERLIST

The clock on your nightstand read 3:24 a.m., and there you were, wide awake with an undeniable craving gnawing at you. It started as a faint whisper in your mind, a vague notion of something savory and warm. But within moments, it was as if your whole body was practically screaming for it. You tried to ignore it, rolling onto your other side and taking a few deep breaths, hoping you might fall back asleep. But the craving just got stronger. It was nachos that you wanted, and not just any nachos—ones with thick, gooey layers of cheese, topped with plenty of spicy jalapeños, all seasoned perfectly.

Sighing, you glanced at Toge, who was fast asleep beside you. You knew waking him up at this hour was ridiculous, but at the same time, there was no way you could satisfy the craving yourself. Your feet were sore, your back ached, and standing in the kitchen for that long just felt out of the question. So, after a moment of consideration, you gently nudged him. “Toge, honey,” you whispered softly, your fingers grazing his arm.

He stirred, his eyes fluttering open, squinting at you in the dim light of the room. “Salmon?” he murmured, his voice groggy but with a hint of concern. He shifted slightly, reaching for your hand with sleepy gentleness.

“I know it’s silly,” you whispered, your cheeks heating. “But I really need some nachos. Like, really cheesy ones, with jalapeños and a little extra salt. And I need them right now.”

There was a moment of silence as Toge took in your words, processing your request in his half-asleep state. And then, in typical Toge fashion, his mouth curved into the smallest, knowing smile, his eyes crinkling with warmth. “Tuna mayo,” he responded in a soft voice, which you knew translated to don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.

Slowly, he pushed himself up and stretched, giving you a quick, sleepy peck on your forehead before slipping out of bed. He held out his hand, gesturing for you to come with him. Smiling, you slipped your hand in his, letting him lead you to the kitchen. The quiet warmth of his presence made you feel like waking him up wasn’t such a selfish idea after all.

In the kitchen, he quickly assessed what he’d need, giving you a gentle nudge toward a bar stool at the counter so you could sit and relax. His hand grazed your belly as you settled, and you felt the baby kick lightly, almost as if they were getting excited along with you. Toge noticed the movement too, his eyes lighting up as he pressed a soft palm against your stomach, feeling the tiny kick. He chuckled softly, his expression turning playful as he raised an eyebrow, as if to say, Nachos for both of you, huh?

He went to work with silent efficiency, pulling out a bag of tortilla chips, a block of sharp cheddar, a handful of shredded mozzarella, and a little container of jalapeños. You watched as he grated the cheese with the focus and dedication he brought to everything, making sure each piece was perfectly even. You couldn’t help but admire how his hands moved, steady and precise, as he worked through his drowsiness.

A few minutes later, Toge spread the chips evenly on a baking sheet, layering them carefully with cheese and jalapeños. He added a few special touches he knew you’d love: a sprinkle of smoky paprika, a dash of garlic powder, and a little drizzle of honey, which he knew balanced out the spice and added a unique sweetness. You hadn’t even thought of that last part, but the smell alone made your mouth water.

When the nachos were finally in the oven, he came over to stand beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as you both leaned against the counter. He had this peaceful look on his face, and he squeezed you gently, pressing a light kiss to your temple. You could tell he wasn’t annoyed or even inconvenienced by the request. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself, glad to have a reason to take care of you and, by extension, the baby.

While the nachos baked, you both waited in companionable silence, Toge occasionally glancing at you with a warm look in his eyes, his thumb gently rubbing your shoulder. Eventually, the oven timer beeped, and he moved to pull out the tray. The aroma of melted cheese, spicy jalapeños, and a hint of honey filled the air, and you could practically feel your mouth watering.

Toge carefully plated the nachos, making sure to spread them out so each chip had a balanced mix of toppings. He set the plate in front of you with a soft smile, his eyes filled with affection and pride, as if he’d just finished creating a masterpiece.

You took a deep breath, savoring the smell, then reached for a nacho, giving him a thankful glance before you took your first bite. The mix of salty cheese, spicy jalapeño, and that touch of honey was perfect. Toge had gotten every single element just right, down to the exact amount of salt you were craving. You sighed contentedly, the happiness you felt translating into a soft, grateful smile.

“Mm, this is amazing,” you mumbled around a mouthful of nachos, your eyes half-closed in bliss. Toge watched you with a quiet laugh, his own expression softened, clearly pleased by how happy you looked. He pulled a stool closer, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you eat, every so often reaching over to swipe a chip himself.

As you both continued to munch away, you felt a gentle flutter from your belly, a little kick from the baby, as if they, too, were grateful for the midnight snack. Toge’s eyes darted to your stomach, his smile widening as he placed a gentle hand there, feeling the tiny movements under his palm. He looked up at you, a silent exchange passing between you as he leaned in to press a soft kiss on your forehead, then on your belly.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with affection. Toge’s hand found yours, his fingers warm as they laced with yours, his violet eyes soft and full of love. He didn’t need words to tell you how much he cared; it was in every little action, in every quiet smile, and in every nacho he made just the way you liked.

TAGLIST

@makingtimemine @strawbrrycat @soraya-daydreams @shokosbunny @saltypuffin1040 @danilights2021 @startwithrecords @obeythebutler @sparklykeylime @surielstea

[diamonddaze01]

hello tara it’s me

if you’re still taking prompts for your game could i maybe suggest 40 “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” for our seokminnie?

kthnxbaiiiii

mismatched

pairing: seokmin x reader | wc: 1.0k prompt: “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” a/n: BENNIE HELLO! i loved writing this and honestly it was just what i needed after work today lol

The day had been relentless. Emails piled up like bricks in a wall, each one heavier than the last. Deadlines loomed, impossible to meet, and the cherry on top was your client—someone who, apparently, had made it their life’s mission to leave you frazzled and questioning your career choices. By the time you got home, your shoulders ached, your head throbbed, and the walls of your apartment felt closer than ever, suffocating in their silence.

You didn’t mean to text Seokmin. At least, not like that. You had typed it out and hit send without overthinking it: "Today sucked. Can I call you later?" Short, vague, but enough to convey the weight pressing down on you.

Seokmin had always been good at sensing when you needed him. Maybe it was the years of friendship, the countless moments you’d spent together, teetering on the edge of something more but never quite diving in. Still, you hadn’t expected him to show up at your door less than twenty minutes later.

When the doorbell rang, you frowned, dragging yourself off the couch. You opened the door, and there he was, panting slightly as if he’d sprinted the whole way. His scarf hung lopsided around his neck, and his coat was barely on, one sleeve dangling at his side. His hair was tousled from the wind, and his cheeks were flushed a deep pink from the cold.

“Seokmin?” you asked, startled. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you okay?” he asked, skipping right past pleasantries. His wide, dark eyes were locked on yours, scanning your face like he could piece you back together just by looking.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re wearing two different shoes,” you added, pointing to his feet before he could answer.

He glanced down, and the realization hit him like a truck. His left foot wore a white Adidas sneaker with faint blue accents, while his right foot was clad in a scuffed brown leather boot.

“Oh,” he muttered, ears turning crimson. “I didn’t notice.”

“You didn’t notice?” Your voice wavered between disbelief and the beginnings of a laugh.

“I came as soon as I got your text!” he protested, lifting his hands in defense. The plastic bag he carried swung dangerously close to hitting him in the face. “You said you had a bad day, and I thought maybe—maybe you needed me, or something.”

His words settled in your chest, warm and grounding. Your lips twitched despite yourself, the first hint of a smile breaking through the exhaustion that had weighed you down all day.

“Seokmin,” you said, stepping aside, “you didn’t have to rush over.”

“I wanted to,” he said softly, ducking his head as he stepped inside. His mismatched shoes squeaked against the floor, a detail so absurd it made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“What’s in the bag?” you asked, nodding toward the plastic he still clutched in his hand.

“Soup,” he said, holding it up like an offering. “And snacks.” He hesitated, then added sheepishly, “I panicked. I just grabbed the first things I thought might help.”

You couldn’t hold back the soft laugh that bubbled up. “Soup is a solid choice.”

He grinned at that, the kind of radiant smile that made your chest flutter no matter how many times you’d seen it. “See? I know what I’m doing.”

The two of you settled on the couch, and Seokmin insisted on heating up the soup despite your protests. You let him, partly because you didn’t have the energy to argue and partly because watching him move around your tiny kitchen—still wearing those mismatched shoes—was strangely comforting.

When he returned, he handed you the bowl with a dramatic flourish. “For the most amazing person I know,” he declared, settling beside you with his own bowl.

“Flattery won’t fix my day,” you said, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you, lifting into a smile.

“Maybe not,” he replied, “but it might help a little.”

And it did. As you ate, you told him about your day—the impossible client, the mountain of emails, the way your boss barely acknowledged your effort. Seokmin listened intently, nodding in all the right places and throwing in the occasional comment that made you laugh despite yourself.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said after a pause, his voice quieter now.

“Don’t start,” you said, though your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his tone.

“I mean it.” He set his empty bowl aside and turned to face you fully, his gaze soft but unwavering. “You’re amazing, and I hate that you don’t see it.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. Before you could muster a response, he leaned in, brushing a soft, tentative kiss against your forehead.

Your breath hitched, and when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, as if he was waiting for a sign that he hadn’t overstepped.

“Seokmin…”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just—I wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

A small laugh escaped you, unbidden and warm. “A little.”

“Just a little?” He pouted, leaning closer, and before you could respond, his lips brushed yours—soft, warm, and lingering. The kiss sent a jolt through you, scattering your thoughts and melting away the tension that had clung to you all day.

When he pulled back, his smile was smaller this time, less teasing but no less radiant. “How about now?”

You laughed again, this time from somewhere deep in your chest. “Okay, fine. It worked.”

“Good.” He leaned back against the couch, propping his mismatched shoes up on the coffee table with zero shame.

By the time the evening wound down, your bad day felt like a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of Seokmin’s presence. You glanced at him one last time before heading to bed, and for the first time in hours, you felt okay. Maybe even better than okay.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[animeyanderelover]

Chrollo and avatar!fem!reader, please 😭😭

Fun fact: I have never watched Avatar The Last Airbender before. I only watched some episodes during my childhood when the show aired on TV so do forgive me if I got something wrong.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, manipulation, stalking, blackmailing, isolation, abduction, murder, fem! s/o

Taglist: @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @cynniical @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59

Avatar reader

📖​The Avatar, the embodiment of peace and light. And you, chosen as the next reincarnation who will master all four elements to eventually surpass all other bender and bring with you balance and harmony. Yet when the world needed the Avatar the most, she disappeared. This is the tale passed down through generations, a tale reminiscent of the contents you would find inside a children's book. The world offers much that is still left to be discovered and every tale always has a grain of truth in it. It's through the words of a dying monk who used to be your teacher that Chrollo receives a taste of the fascination that will one day bring with it an obsession. Fickle candlelight symbolising the life about to extinct, half of his face dipped into darkness as apathetic eyes watch with a strange sense of curiosity the skinny man. Bedridden and blind yet with a soul far wiser than many people Chrollo has ever met, milky eyes unable to see yet still able to perceive the harbinger of chaos and death sitting right next to him in the last minutes of his life. Chrollo only slightly bemoans that he is not able to steal the Nen of the wise monk yet he leaves with a treasure much more precious in the end.

📖​Fools have been chasing after legends and its promised treasures for millenia and perhaps from the outside it may appear as if Chrollo is faring no better yet he doesn't wish for the truth to be handed out to him on a silver plate. There is enjoyance he finds within the hunt, each little hint he discovers only adding to the anticipation. Other treasure, whilst satisfying him for brief moments, do not fulfill him. It is you who he desires most to find and to claim for you hold secrets and powers that he wishes to have for himself. Dedication and patience are virtues Chrollo practices each and every day as time passes in leaps, days turning into weeks and weeks into months. Until one day he finally finds what he has been seeking for such a long time. A short hint of melancholy is on his face as she strides over to the wall of ice you are frozen into, tiny needles of coldness stabbing into his skin as he lays his palm against the frozen material separating him from you. It's strange. Both of you have never met before yet finally seeing you feels almost like meeting an old friend he hasn't seen in years. If only you would know how long he has searched and waited for you.

📖​Asleep for an entire century only to be thrown into a world who is in many aspects still the same yet simultanously so different. You are unprepared when you are woken up from the slumber you accidentally put yourself into, the only companion from old times still left being your flying bison. There are many unfamiliar faces that surround you as soon as you open your eyes and with no living peers left and awake in a world you fail to understand you find yourself attempting to befriend those new people with an underlying sense of desperation and loneliness. It's those emotions that Chrollo intends to use against you, luring you innocent butterfly in his spider's net to trap you and devour you. You're alone, you're scared and you're vulnerable even if you may hide it under your reckless and humorous facade. There is none of the wise intuition in you that your deceased teacher possessed which would have made everything more difficult for Chrollo. Animals have always had a keen intuition though so it is your flying bison that greatly distrusts him, sensing the demon's hands trying to touch it. Truly a shame for it is such a majestic creature. He wonders just what price he'd get for this species.

📖​It is like watching a child discover the world around it, only that he is dealing with a grown adult. You have an adventurous and free spirit much like the wind, frequently taking detours much to the annoyance for some of the other members of the troupe. Chrollo asks them all for patience though for you are much too precious and interesting to be thrown away right away. Years he has searched for you so he does not intent to steal your abilities right away. No, he intends to get to know the real you and not the you in all the old books and stories that he has sought out over time. He's fascinated with your soul, so young and yet so old and the connection with your previous lives that slumber somewhere within you. So he allows your shenanigans for he needs to gain your full trust, listens intently whenever you're willing to share your stories from your childhood and your time spent with the monks who raised you and trained you. Hide it as much as you may, he spots that hint of guilt and sadness as the knowledge that all the people that you treasured have been dead for years is a weight heavy to carry. Your pain is the path he needs to get closer to you though so he wishes for you to dwell in your sorrow.

📖​Your mindset is one that he is not able to understand and it only draws him closer to his nearing obsession. Raised by monks you were taught that all life is precious, a lesson he has never heard before. After all he grew up in Meteor City where humans were equal to trash. To be abandoned, neglected and forever forgotten about. Yet here you are, telling him that all life is equally worth? It is amusing yet Chrollo knows that reality is rarely as pretty as the ideals you believe in. A part of him wishes to drag you down that corrupted path, to destroy your beliefs and see your conviction shatter under the weight of reality. Another part of him almost wishes to shelter such purity so you may always remain naive and believe in your lessons passed down by your teachers. Such power as you possess is truly not fit for one unwilling to yield it. There is no conflict won through words and hopes as corruption and violence will always follow. Chrollo has observed humans long enough to realise that only few are as foolish as you are. The foolish ones are usually always the first ones to die as they are the ones who are trampled on, nothing more as a stepping stones for others.

📖​He's been the hand holding you and guiding you ever since you awoke from your sleep and now this very hand is unwilling to let go, clutching tightly to you as it drags you with it. You will not leave his side. Years he has invested and dedicated to find you and now that Chrollo finally has you he finds himself unable to get rid of you. You are the missing piece of his puzzle, the air he needs to breathe, the fire that warms him, the water that sustains his life, the earth that stabilises him. It is no longer a want but a need that is now driving him. He needs you with him. Now. Tomorrow. Forever. Whilst he is no fervent believer in God or the holy faith even Chrollo can't deny how truly ironic it is that the person who is the answer to so many of his questions was frozen in time only for him to find her. Actions need to be made fast for you progress much too fast with your bending abilities. Whilst you lack experience still and haven't yet mastered your entire powers Chrollo does not wish to risk a confrontation with you though he knows that you could never harm him or any of the other members. After all the Phantom Troupe are the first friends you made after being freed from the ice you were kept in.

📖​Haven't you always been secretly burdened by the fate chosen for you without you ever having been able to decide for yourself? Haven't you always secretly wished to be normal like everyone else? You've shared your insecurities and wishes with Chrollo, revealed bits of your heart to him which he greedily clutches to his own empty chest as every secret of yours fulfills him a bit more. You've shared your pain and your guilt with him and now he offers you to free you from all those chains tying you up. His Nen ability should be able to remove the Avatar spirit from you. He can give you the freedom you have always wished for secretly. To your own lament you recognise his true colours much too late, your heart weeping as you see the Phantom Troupe in their full capabilities. The kindness they have shown you and the love that Chrollo has fed you with have all been real yet were only parts of their true selves you find yourself now confronted with. You see them as no monsters though as most people would deem them, your eyes instead only seeing lost souls who have wandered on the wrong path. You wish to save them somehow yet deep down you know that they have all already chosen their paths.

📖​Only then does Chrollo reveal his true self to you, a merciless and apathetic man who sees humans no different to puppets. You will not escape him. Not now after he has finally found the heart he has been missing all along in you. He blackmails you, tugs at your heartstrings as he knows how deeply you care for him and his troupe yet he also frightens you as he threatens to involve innocent people and even dares to threaten Appa, your treasured friend. He truly doesn't wish to fight you and he already knows that you are no fighter yourself, prefering a pacifistic solution. Even if you should narrowly escape the net of the spider though as you flee with Appa know that you will never be truly free. Chrollo will hunt you down, follow every trace of you and burn down entire cities until he has you once more. You can run but you can't hide forever. Not from him. Even if he shouldn't find you in this life he is willing to step into truly forbidden territory. If the soul of the first Avatar has been able to be reincarnated then there is a chance that he might be able to reincarnate his soul with yours as well. Little spider, he will chase after you even after death, his soul always chasing after yours.

[yelenasdiary]

PLEASE, I need anything with Yelena being the best auntie to Wandanat's kid 😭

Afternoon with Aunt Lele

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Niece! Reader

Summary: Aunty Yelena is asked to look after you for the afternoon. 

Tiny Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of schoolyard bullying (its light) | 1.8K

AC: Reader is 7 here, thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

The bell rang loudly, another day of school was over! You and your friends rushed to grab your backpack, the hall crowded with children of all ages, all happy to be seeing their friends from over grades and making plans to go home together for a playdate or sleepover after all, it was Friday. You waited patiently for others to grab their belongings before you reached for your bag and carefully put some drawings you had finished in art class into your bag before swinging it over your shoulder. 

“Have a good weekend Y/n!” Your friend, America, smiled softly. 

“I will!” You replied watching her walk off with her other friends.

“Y/n!” You heard a familiar name call. You turned around and saw a young boy with big brown eyes smiling at you, “Nicholas, you have paint on your cheek!” You chuckled. “my friend was giving me a face paint” the boy replied. He was still classed as the new kid at school but that never bothered him, he made a few friends, you included and was always happy to see you. 

“Do you have plans for the weekend?” He asked as the two of you began to walk down the hall together. 

“I don’t think so, my mom’s might be working” you replied with a small hint of sadness.

“My mom said she’s taking me to a farmers market tomorrow” Nicholas said with excitement, “she said we can take Señor Scratchy with us on the car trip!” He added. 

“I wish I could take Liho with me on trips but she would run away” you said, shaking your head before the two of you stepped foot outside. Nicholas’s eyes quickly locked onto his mother, making his smile grow bigger. “There’s my mom! I’ll see you Monday!” He turned to you, giving you a friendly wave. “Bye Nicholas!” You smiled, waving back.

He ran towards the tall dark haired woman who would smile and wave to her whenever she saw you, you couldn’t remember her name, but you always waved back at her. 

As you continued to walk towards the school gates you couldn’t see any sight of your mom or Wanda which made you frown a little as you remembered the rules of not going pass the school gates unless you were with your mom or Wanda.

“Why the frown little widow?” You heard a familiar voice approach you. As you turned, your eyes grew wider with happiness as you laid eyes on your beloved aunty.

“Aunt Lele!!” You beamed, crashing into her with arms wide open. “Mom didn’t tell me you would pick me up” you added. Yelena smiled softly, hugging you back, “Last minute changes but it’s okay, right? Because we’re gonna have a fun afternoon” she explained as you pulled back to look her once more. 

“Did you bring Fanny with you?” You asked, soon forgetting the sadness of not seeing your mother after a long day. 

“She’s at home so why don’t we go and drop off your backpack, grab Fanny and go get some frozen yoghurt?” Your aunt suggested. You nodded quickly with excitement, naturally taking a hold of her hand before the two of you walked towards her blue pick-up truck. 

Once you arrived at your aunt’s small but cozy apartment, you didn’t waste any time throwing your backpack to the floor and greeting Fanny with a big hug. She licked your cheek making you giggle as you ruffled the fur of your aunts pet. Yelena couldn’t help but smile to herself at the sight in front of her. 

“She’s super fluffy!!” You smiled, brushing off some of her shredded fur from your school uniform. Yelena chuckled, “Kate gave her a wash yesterday, she also smells like strawberries” she said. 

“Can we take her to the park, aunt Lele, please?” You asked, bouncing on your toes. Yelena nodded, “sure, I’ll just go get her lead and collar” she smiled softly before walking into the spare room. 

----

As you walked down the sidewalk, Fanny trotted happily beside you, her tail wagging while you held on tightly to her lead. Yelena walking on the other side of you, trusting that Fanny wouldn’t wander too far where she would be pulling you along.  You admired how fluffy she looked, the way her fur danced in the breeze almost made her look like a little cloud. 

“How was school?” Yelena asked as the tree of you crossed the street towards the park. Fanny was already sniffing at every blade of grass as the playground in the near distance grew bigger for her. 

“It was good, I had art class today and music class!” You boosted, pausing in your steps to allow Fanny a moment to fill her nose with all kinds of different smells. “Sounds like a fun day” your aunt replied, staying close to you. 

“I drew a new picture for mommy but next time, I am going to draw something for you!” You replied, giving her a wide smile before handing her Fanny’s lead, “can I go play on the playground aunt Lele? Please?” You asked. 

“Just make sure I can see you at all times, okay?” Your aunt replied, “I’ll be sitting on that bench over there” she added, pointing to the park bench that was just outside the fenced playground. 

“I promise aunt Lele!” You said before running off to the color playground. Other kids that you had never met before were playing together, even including you on their little game of chase. Yelena and Fanny sat and watched as you ran freely around the playground, laughing whenever you were tagged. 

After a while, one of the young girls brought out her pink and yellow frisbee and asked if you wanted to play with her and some others in the open field part of the park. You of course asked for permission first from your aunt who allowed you to go play with your new friends, Fanny tagging along who soon stole the show.

Fanny loved catching the frisbee that you and the kids threw for her, she made all the kids around her giggle with excitement, eventually she would wear herself out and that told Yelena it was time to say goodbye to the park. 

----

“What flavour frozen yoghurt would you like little widow?” Your aunt asked, smiling down at you. 

“uhm” you paused in thought, looking at all the different flavors behind the glass display. “Mango please” you added, pointing to the soft yellow colored flavor. Yelena ordered two small frozen yoghurts then the two of you sat outside with Fanny to enjoy the frozen treat. 

While you were enjoying the sweetness of your mango treat, out of nowhere, you were reminded of the comments a girl in your class made about your artwork in class today. Yelena, seeing the light in your eyes start to fade felt her brows frown ever so slightly. 

“What’s up little widow, is your yoghurt not good?” She asked, catching your attention.

You shook your head, “it’s fine, it’s yummy” you replied before scooping another small mouthful. 

“Are you missing your mom?” She asked, but again, you shook your head. “Did something happen at school?” She questioned. You looked up at her, “There’s this girl in my class, and she keeps saying mean things about my drawings. Today she poured glitter all over my drawing I made for mom and now I am worried mom won’t like it as much” you opened up, your eyes dropping to the frozen treat in your hands. 

Yelena, concerned for your feelings, leans in a little, “you know what? Not everyone knows how to appreciate creativity. They might not see how special your drawings are. I know you mom loves them” she smiles softly. 

“I hope so because I work really, really hard on them!” You pouted, looking down at your frozen yoghurt.

“I know you do” Your aunt comforts you, “maybe you could teach me how to make some awesome paintings like yours!” She added. Instantly, your eyes lit up as you looked up at her once again, a big smile growing on your lips, “I can teach you aunt Lele!!” You beamed with excitement, “we can make a painting for Fanny too!” You added. 

Your excitement warmed your aunt’s heart with joy, “I have one request though” she said before taking a small mouthful of her frozen treat. You nodded, your mouth full of mango goodness as you kept your eyes on here. 

“I have this big empty space on the wall in my living room, do you think maybe you know a really cool artist that loves to use lots of colours and different shapes that could make a big painting for that space?” She asked. 

“Me! I can do it Aunt Lele!! Please pick me!!!!” You almost jumped out of your seat, making your aunty chuckle at your excitement. 

“Do you think you’re up for the job little widow?” Yelena asked with a playful grin on her lips. 

“I am the best person for the job!” You replied, forgetting about the horrible teasing comments you had gotten from the girl in your class. Yelena couldn’t help but smile as you rambled on about all the fun ideas that quickly filled your imaginative mind. She knew she would have to make a trip to the arts and crafts store for when you could visit her next. 

----

Back at your aunt’s apartment, you were busy in the living room with Fanny lying beside you on the floor as you drew another wonderful and colorful picture for your mother, this one was about your afternoon with your aunt. You drew playing in the park with Fanny and getting frozen yogurt with your favorite aunty in the entire world. 

Yelena on the other hand was busy in the kitchen cooking up a big pot of macaroni and cheese for dinner, at your request. She would be sure to tell her sister that the pot of pasta was in fact your idea and not hers. 

“Aunt Lele?” You chirped, as a thought popped into your head.

“What’s up little widow?” Yelena asked, beginning to dish the macaroni and cheese into two bowls. 

“Can I come with you and Fanny next time you go on your big walks? Mommy said you like to take her to the forest” you asked, always wishing you’d be able to tag along one day. 

“Of course! We would love for you to come with us! I’m going to take her next weekend, so I’ll ask your mom later when she comes to pick you up” 

“Thank you, Aunt Lele!!!” You jumped with happiness.

“No worries little widow, now, dinner is ready so how about you go wash your hands?” She suggested with a soft smile. You didn’t waste any time before rushing off to the bathroom, eager to eat some of your aunt’s famous macaroni and cheese.

Taglist: @koinsss | @liloandstitchstan | @marcia-maximoff | @skittlebum | @katethewritersblog | @taliiiaasteria | @nova-kyle | @daddipantherr | @riyaexee | @sgm616 | @elle161989 | @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid | @mathxa | @sxlfishbrokenheart | @noturlondonboy | @lovelyy-moonlight | @ghxst-guts | @ashensmokescreen | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

[strawbeerossi]

Tiny Dancer

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After Spencer meets you while you are on an undercover mission, it isn’t long until you two get to know each other. After your first date together, you give him a few lessons.

Content/Warnings: Awkward Spencer, strip club, minor case matter, lap dancing, cumming in pants.

Word Count: 2.8K

Kinktober Day Nineteen: Lingerie

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

This is my least favorite fic. I apologize in advance.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Emily asked, gazing at the front of the strip club where Aaron was smoothening out his suit jacket and glancing at her and Spence.. “One million percent. Don’t get too distracted here. I have a friend who is in sex crimes working undercover to catch someone who is taking advantage of strippers and call girls. She agreed to meet us but you have to be prepared for the way she’s going to talk to us. It’s not going to be a traditional interview.”

The two agents looked between each other in confusion. What did he mean by that? Regardless, they both walked inside the not too busy club. This was a more upscale place, one of the strip clubs that kept the high paying men of the city anonymous, able to enjoy the likes of a the establishment without someone going back and telling wives, girlfriends, or employers. The safety due to the membership only status worked out in their favor, only having to flash their badges and mentioning they needed to scope out the place before they were let inside.

Once in the dimly lit building, Aaron’s gaze was scanning the room before his eyes landed just on the undercover agent they were looking for. You had gotten the hint he was here to see you, so you were moving away from the man you were currently talking to before twirling your hair around your finger. “Hi sweetheart. Looking for a dance today?” You asked sweetly, glancing back at the other agents who were waiting as well.

“Yes. My friends and I woulda actually like to ask for a private dance. Is that something we could do?” Your gaze lingered on one particular agent; Spencer Reid. He was a living legend around the FBI due to his intellect, of course you’d heard about him around the office. “I charge extra for groups.” You added soon after, which you were leading the three agents back to the safety of the private room while you closed the door. “I really wish you would text me before you do something like this.” You scolded Aaron while holding a hand out to take the money he was getting out of his wallet. The cameras in the room made it hard to have a normal conversation, you having to play along to the private dance fantasy.

After pushing the bills into the babydoll lingerie top, you were going to the pole in the middle of the room. “I know. However this is an emergency that I didn’t plan for. One of our victims worked here. Her name was Amanda Raymond. What can you tell us about her?” Aaron stated as if there wasn’t a half naked woman in the room that had Spencer’s face bright red and Emily practically drooling at the sight.

“Mandy?” You asked, smile faltering hearing about how your missing friend was in fact dead. “She was a sweet girl. I mean, she worked damn near every night to support her son.” Your leg hooked around the pole as you did a spin around it, ultimately moving away. “She hasn’t left with anyone that I know of. I mean she had some sketchy regulars but I can get you their information,” You shrugged, moving to straddle Emily’s lap while laughing at her reaction. “Prentiss, stay focused.” You’d teased, smiling as you could feel her soft hands against your hips as she cleared her throat.

“Right, sorry. Anyone in particular that you have both serviced?” She asked, unable to help her gaze over your exposed body. How was she gonna look you in the eye around the office after this?!

“There’s Michael Lewis. He’s actually a deputy on the police force. He’s really violent. He’s left bruises on my arms and hips before whenever security couldn’t get here fast enough.” You’d answered, thinking it over. “And Trevor Brown, a college professor who likes to try and take every dancer home,” You responded, laughing a bit as the raven haired woman was pushing a twenty in your lingerie top before you were moving to Spencer.

He looked like he was gonna pass out the minute you were bending down in front of him, continuing on with your dance routine as you let your hips play with some rock song playing over the speakers of the private room. “Y-you-“ Spencer was bright red, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he clutched the arm of the leather sofa. The outfit left very little to the imagination. “I’m sorry.” He squeaked while his eyes were diverting their gaze from your ass perched in his face. “You said that they’ve t-touched you, I can assume it was insitent?” Spencer asked, his own hands itching to touch your soft skin. “Yeah. They weren’t very kind and they were pushy. I’m sure you’ve seen the type on the field. I’m just sure they don’t grab you the way they’ve grabbed me.”

You turned to face Spencer again as your arms loosely draped around his shoulder, your tantalizing hips having Spencer drunk in the moment. The genius would think you were doing this on purpose, almost as if you enjoyed the act of teasing him and rendering him speechless. He had to admit that he was definitely a fan. He just wished his boss and coworker wasn’t with him, this interview would’ve gone just a tad different. “I can give you their information. I’ve had them leave their numbers and some business cards as if I would ever talk to them outside of this job.” You added, your dance coming to an end anyway as you were heading to a stack of cards and such.

The girls had gotten used to tossing any kind of numbers or other things on one of the tables in the room. Sifting through the numbers, you were smiling whenever you came across the two cards. “I really do think they should be watched closely.” You spoke while handing a card to Aaron. Now you were going to tease Spencer more, putting the card between your teeth before heading over to bend in front of him once more, leaning in close so he could retrieve the card.

Due to his germaphobia, he definitely wasn’t taking into his mouth, however he slowly took the car as his honey colored eyes were overshadowed by lust and embarrassment from seeing how much of an effect you had on him. “You three get out of here safely. Don’t call too much attention to yourselves. I’m not saying there is anyone here who could hurt you at the moment but.. Feds around here would terrify the mass amounts of customers who are trying to stay on the downlow.”

The three agents were getting up from the couch as they had gotten all the intel they needed. “Alright. You three keep your heads down.” You spoke while walking them over to open the door. There were a few moments where Spencer was stopped, his gaze on you. “Got a business card you wanna add to our table?” You couldn’t help but tease him, a smirk on your face. “What if I uh..” He was awkwardly reaching in his pocket, getting out a card with his number in it before he caught you off guard, slipping the card into your cleavage. The bold move was overshadowed by his embarrassed little blush, a shaky laugh leaving his lips. “Please don’t put it on the table. I’d rather have you contact me directly.” He said softly, only glancing back when he could hear Emily calling his name. “We gotta go but.. Call me?”

“You got it, Dr. Reid. Go save some lives.” You grinned, waving him off as you were walking out of the private room again to get right back to your post.

After that, the BAU did what they did best. They caught the man on a murderous rampage against sex workers, his view of them as being dirty and deserving the release of death to forgive them of their sins. Which you never understood but hey, you weren’t a psychopath so it made sense why you didn’t understand.

You’d been texting Spencer throughout the week, mostly just small talk while his awkwardness and shyness translated to messages as well. You found it endearing. He was a charming man who did have a small confidence issue but you were happy to tell him just how attractive he was and help the best you can to boost that confidence without making his ego inflating too much. You’d both agreed to meet up for coffee on a Sunday morning, the both of you meeting at a small cafe in DC.

“I’m glad you came. I was nervous you wouldn’t.” Spencer admitted as you were sitting at one of the outdoor tables with him, a smile on your face as you sipped from the cup in your hand. “Why wouldn’t I come? I’ve liked talking to you! It’s been an honor to get to know you, honestly. I mean, you’re very well known around the FBI as a whole so actually meeting you is nice rather than just hearing about you.”

The words had him blushing, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’m just not used to asking anyone out. Which I mean, if you don’t want this to be considered that I understand.” He spoke while you were letting one hand gently pat his hand resting against the table.

“Well. You did a great job asking me! I also have to say that I don’t want this to end early. How about we go back to my apartment? I know how much you love Doctor Who and I have the whole classic series! I like the earliest seasons but I am willing to watch what you want.” You added with a smile, Spencer not daring to turn it down as you were pushing themselves to stand. Thankfully, the walk to your apartment wasn’t too long considering you lived only a couple blocks away from the cafe. After leading Spencer upstairs and unlocking the wooden door, he broke the threshold and headed inside right behind you, his hand moving to gently close the door behind you both. “You have a really nice place.” He’d commented.

It smelled like vanilla, the atmosphere being welcoming and so inviting that he had no problem towing off his shoes at the doorway before making himself comfortable as you were going for the case that held all the classic films and shows you had taken a liking to. “Here we go. Should we start with season one?” You asked, although you both didn’t share any confirmation as you were popping the disk in. After getting the remote, you were hurrying to leap onto the couch beside Spencer, the both of you laughing as you were crossing your legs to get comfortable.

The binge-watching had gone pretty standard, your body leaning comfortably against Spencer’s while your cheek was against his shoulder, his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders. Despite his dislike for most human contact, he had to admit that he liked sitting like this with you. It helped that your body was warm against his. The contact was oddly intimate — At least to Spencer.

It was well established in the past that this guy doesn’t know how to go slow. So as you were so engrossed in the first season of your show, he was too busy thinking of the future opportunities of you both sitting on the couch like this and enjoying each other’s presence. “Can I ask you a question?” His voice finally spoke up as he glanced at you, your head lifting from his shoulder. “Yeah. Go ahead!” You offered a smile. “How long have you been doing undercover work at the uh.. You know.” He asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Well. I was just assigned to do it. I took pole dancing classes in college with a few friends. It’s actually a really good workout and I enjoy doing it. I just wish it wasn’t in front of a crowd.”

You answered honestly. It wasn’t something that you ever pictured yourself doing, however you were happy to catch sick fuckers that occupied the place. “Wait. They have classes?” The male asked, the hobby piquing his intrigue in the subject. “Yes! Why, want me to give you a lesson?” You joked while offering a smile. “I can teach you how to do a lap dance. I’ve already given you one so I don’t think it’ll be awkward. Right?”

Hell no it would not.

“I don’t- I don’t think so!” His voice squeaked as you were moving to stand with a smile. “Perfect! Don’t worry, you can touch me this time. No need to be freaked out.” You teased, hand retrieving the tv remote to get the screen turned off. You had moved to playfully toss your hair around, acting as if you had to gussy yourself up for the part. “Let me put on a costume. I feel like I need to do this perfectly.”

Which you disappeared for ten minutes, finding a silk purple negligee with lace stockings. You may have been overembellishing just a tad, however you wouldn’t mind Spencer putting his hands on you in any way he chose. Whenever you were coming back to the living room, your hands were on your hips as you sauntered to the couch. When the male’s eyes fell on you, he felt the wind get knocked out of him. This wasn’t at all what he was expecting. “What do you think?” You asked, doing a turn while grinning. “I was gonna put on some heels but I felt like that would be overkill.”

“I think you look stunning.”

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, Dr. Reid.” You smirked, hand retrieving your phone as you were searching for a suitable song for the occasion.

As you’d landed on an old school rock song, it wasn’t long until you were dragging your hands up your body, watching as the agent in front of you was giving you his full divided attention. As you walked around the couch, your hands were sliding down his chest from behind him. The mere touch had his cock springing to life in his pants, especially when you ran them up his chest and rested a hand under his chin before making his head tilt up to look at you.

After lingering contact and leaning down to press a kiss to his left cheek, you were walking back in front of him again while bending. Your hands were against his knees while you lowered yourself, the angle making your cleavage nearly spill from the silky top of the ensemble and catching his attention. As your touch dragged up his thighs, you couldn’t help but grin at the way his body reacted to the touch. It was like he was so desperate to be touched and he hadn’t had any sort of intimacy like this in a while. Your hands squeezed his inner thighs before you were straddling his lap.

With your hands against his shoulders, you were humming along with the music as your hips rolled down into Spencer’s, the friction against his clothed cock being heavenly. His large hands were quickly moving to your hips, his mouth agape as he watched the intoxicating movements of your hips.

He could remember being jealous of Emily when they talked to you, the way you put on a show for her and gave Spencer hardly anything. This was a hell of a way to make it up to him though. While your hips gyrated against his lap, he was letting his head tilt back against the sofa while letting out a gentle whine. Your movements were overwhelming, hips rocking to stimulate riding his cock so good that it could nearly be considered the real thing.

By the end of the song though, Spencer could feel arousal building up in the pit of his stomach. His heart was beating fast, face red as a thin layer of sweat was collecting on his forehead from how hot he felt in these fucking clothes. What happened next was out of his control, the friction of your hips rubbing him just right as his hands squeezed your hips, a whine of your name slipping out before he could feel his cock twitch in his underwear. The arousal snuck up on him, unable to hold back as he soiled his underwear with cum. You knew all too well what had happened, your hips slowing down as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Did you just..” You began, blushing as the male was quickly looking away in embarrassment. “I’m sorry! I can’t- I didn’t mean-“ Your hand was what cut him off as it rested gently over his mouth. “You don’t have to apologize.” You said softly while laughing some. “I’m flattered! But I think that we should probably get you cleaned up, don’t you think?”

Spencer didn’t catch on at first, not until your hands were on the button or his slacks. “Y-yeah.” He spoke shyly, lifting his lips in order to help you tug the bottoms down his legs.

“Good boy.”

[ninii-winchester]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 4)

Pairing : Boss!Dean Winchester X Assistant!Reader

Word count : 1.2k

Warnings: a lot of angst, reader says demeaning things about herself, language, not proofread.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

“It’s alright I’m his fiancée.” Y/n really wanted to scoff at the woman’s claim but then her gaze fell to the woman’s left hand. Her ring finger was adorned with a ring, a single sapphire gleamed at the center, encased by tiny diamonds. That was the kind of ring she’d seen in Mrs. Winchester’s finger. That was same kind of ring that she’s seen in Sam’s fiancée, Jess’ finger on multiple occasions. It was the Winchester family’s traditional heirloom, passed down through generations, a symbol of their legacy. She then looked at her own and realised that any one would believe this woman over her, if she ever claimed to be Dean’s fiancée. Y/n felt a lump forming in her throat but she took a deep breath and cleared her throat before speaking,

“I understand, however I can’t let you go in without permission, it’ll risk my job.” She forced a smile. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” She added gesturing to the door and to her relief the woman nodded in agreement.

Y/n knocked on the door while the woman sat on the waiting couch, Dean’s voice was heard from behind the door as he gave permission to enter. She went inside the room and Dean looked delighted to see her, but his smile faltered when he noticed her expression.

“Mr Winchester, there’s someone waiting for you outside but she doesn’t have an appointment. Shall I send her in?” She said monotonously and he furrowed his brow.

“Who is it?” Dean asked curiously.

“Your fiancée.” She said calmly and his eyes widened in surprise. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times unable to form a coherent reply. He understood the look on her face when she first entered the room. When he didn’t reply for a few minutes she added, “I’ll send her in.” With that, she left.

Dean was quick on his feet and followed her out the room and his gaze landed on the woman sitting on the couch. The woman stood up and swiftly made her way towards him.

“Dean!!” She exclaimed happily throwing her arms around his neck.

“Rachel? What are you doing here?” He asked and Y/n watched the scene unfold in front of her eyes. So he did know her. She wanted to look away from them but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the couple and she desperately wished she did when she saw Rachel peck his lips. She grimaced before turning back to the computer screen holding back the tears that were threatening to spill.

"I thought we could get lunch together," she said, her voice soft with a hint of hope.

“I’m busy!” Dean replied tersely. He didn’t want to have lunch with her, he wanted her to leave as soon as possible so he could explain to Y/n. So he could gather her in his arms and tell her she’s the only one and this a misunderstanding.

“Some other time?” Rachel asked and Dean nodded not wanting to create a scene. He was expecting her to throw a fit and demand his attention but he was surprised that she agreed so easily. Rachel turned to leave but then she stopped at Y/n’s desk, “Oh, you’re engaged too?” She said to Y/n excitedly pointing to her ring her. “Congratulations.” She smiled.

“Oh this?” Y/n replied showing her hand to her, “I’m not engaged.” She said softly and Rachel’s face turned to one of confusion. “I deal with businessmen on a daily basis and rich men think they can make me their mistress because I’m just a secretary. So this keeps them away.” She explained, glancing at Dean who was seething beside Rachel. Hah take that Winchester.

“That’s so inappropriate and just unacceptable. Dean, You shouldn’t do business with such people.” Rachel told Dean and he nodded, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. “I’ll get going but—” She looked at name plate on her desk, “Y/n, don’t hesitate to tell Dean if anyone does it again.”

“I won’t. Thank you.” She smiled at the redhead. Y/n wished this woman was a cunning bitch, it would’ve been easy to hate her. But at this moment this moment the only person she hates is someone she swore to Love for the rest of her life. Rachel reciprocated the gesture and kissed Dean on the cheek before taking her leave.

“Inside. Now.” Dean growled at Y/n and turned on his heels to go back to his office. Y/n rolled her eyes before following him inside. She watched him pace back and forth, his jaw clenched. “What the fuck was that?” He asked in a dangerously low tone.

“She’s beautiful. Perfectly matches with you.” Y/n commented.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you behaving like this?” Dean snapped.

“I’ve never been a mistress before. I don’t know how they act.” She replied crossing her arms and Dean was sure he’d have steam coming out of his ears. He was fuming. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.

“Call yourself that one more time and I’m not sure what I’ll do.” He challenged making her scoff.

“Drop the act Dean. I can’t believe you went this far to keep the ruse.” She said gesturing to the ring on her finger. She went to remove it from her finger but he pulled her hand away.

“Don’t you dare.” Dean growled. “She’s not my fiancée, you are.” He yelled not caring if anyone heard.

“Really? And who knows that except you and me?” She asked rhetorically and Dean didn’t have an answer because she was right. “One look at the ring on her finger and anyone could tell she’s a Winchester woman.” She exclaimed.

“That’s.. it’s complicated.” Dean looked away breathing heavily. He didn’t want her to find out this way. He had hoped to handle the mess before she found out, but here he was now, in an even deeper disaster. She glared at him and moved past him to leave but he stopped her. “Baby please don’t do this.” He said softly.

“You have a meeting in five, Mr. Winchester.” Was all she said before she left.

Y/n beelined towards the women’s room and broke down finally. She leaned against the sink, her reflection distorted by the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her usually immaculate appearance was in disarray; her blouse was wrinkled, and her carefully styled hair was now a tangled mess. Her eyes, red and swollen, stared vacantly at the mirror as if trying to make sense of the shattered image before her.

Her breath hitched as she tried to steady herself. She clenched and unclenched her fists, the sharp edge of her engagement ring digging into her palm, a small distraction from the overwhelming hurt, but a stinging reminder at the same time. She quickly removed it from her hand and pocketed the ring. She really wanted to flush it down the toilet but it was expensive and she wanted to return it to Dean. She’d decided that she’d only talk to him if he comes clean about the situation or it’s the end of whatever they had.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

@10ava01

[urdepressedslut]

Love Me to Death

✧ Pairing — Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Siren!Fem!Reader

✧ Summary — The Avengers compound receives a new recruit. She’s a siren who can make anyone fall deathly in love with her with one word. Bucky immediately takes interest in her as he discovers she’s mute, for good reason of course.

✧ Warnings — light angst, hints to past trauma, mentions of bucky’s trauma, hints to PTSD, hints of anxiety

series masterlist ✧ inbox open

You would never get over the view of the Atlantic Ocean. The way you found yourself getting lost as your eyes focused further and further into the distance. The way the earth curved, the way it appeared the ocean just dropped off. Nobody could ever know what went on out there, what happened when there were no wandering eyes. The secrets that the water held, the dark beauty that painted the waters.

Of course, this wasn’t a goodbye forever— just for a while. You couldn't help the pain that formed in your chest, the way your eyes watered at the last view glimpses of your home.

"You about ready to go (Y/n)?" Fury asked from the sand below.

You turned your head towards him, not missing the quick flash of guilt that passed through his expression. You turned back towards the water, taking one last deep breath in— the crisp air filling your lungs.

"If everything works out the way it should— you'll be back here soon." He reminded you, and you knew that was an estimation.

It was the best outcome that you'd return— but the chances were slim. Considering everything, this might as well be the last time you'll ever set foot on this rock, looking at this view that you'd grown to love so much.

You stepped down from the rock, standing next to Fury with a solemn look. You shook your head and avoided his eyes, you couldn't seem to come up with a good answer— so you shoved your way of communicating in your pockets. Plus, you didn't feel like signing a bullshit response— you were upset and you had the right to be.

"Remember I'm not the bad guy here, and neither are you. This is just how things need to be for a while." He reminded you, trying his best to make this feel less forced.

You gave in and signed the only thing you could come up with for now.

I know. You signed before you shoved your hand back in your pocket.

He gave a tiny smile, one that didn't seem genuine but you didn't seem to care too much.

“I don’t know why I have to be here.” Bucky grumbled, running a hand through his hair in stress.

Natasha rolled her eyes, giving Sam a smack on the head to wake him up. He was falling asleep on the couch when it wasn’t the time.

“Rude! I was sleeping.” Sam complained.

“Don’t care— and Buck you need to be here. We are receiving a new recruit.” She explained.

Bucky let out a sigh, shrugging his shoulders— wondering why Nat. thought he cared.

“We always receive new recruits. What’s so different about this one?” He wondered, earning a stare from the redhead before she replied.

Her features grew serious, all kicking and joking stripped from her face.

“This one is enhanced… and deadly.”

His eyes widened and all at once he understood his place now. He was here when things went wrong— the expendable one. Although it made his jaw clench, slight anger running through his veins— he nodded in understanding otherwise.

Natasha seemed to read him without him having to utter another word, she immediately backtracked.

“God, it’s like I can hear you thinking— you’re here because you’re part of the team. Everyone, including you is meeting her.” She corrected, watching his features soften slightly.

“How do you do that?” He asked, squinting his eyes in defense.

She was always able to read his mind, hell— everyone’s!

She laughed, shrugging her shoulder— avoiding to answer his question to mess with him.

“She’s a woman, of course she can read your thoughts. They all can.” Sam added from the couch, trying to drift back to sleep.

Natasha threw a pillow at Sam’s face, taking him by surprise.

“Oh shut it Wilson.” She mumbled, with a roll of her eyes.

“Ow! Why’re you so violent today?” He asked, sitting up and walking towards the bookshelf in the living room.

Natasha smiled to herself, taking his words more as a compliment than an insult.

“Everyone else will be here soon, but seriously— I know you know what it’s like to feel like an outsider when you first showed up here. I want you to help her out, okay?” The redhead asked, earning a scowl from him.

“Why me? Everyone at some point has had to feel like that too— c’mon Nat! I was just starting to settle down here, almost have a little routine for myself. How do you know she won’t be afraid of me— I’m sure she’ll know who I am.” He rambled on, complaint after complaint.

The redhead rubbed a hand down her face.

“I’m not asking you to marry her— just help her out, while she’s settles in.” She told him.

He sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get out of this. He nodded, but kept a scowl on his face. This was not how he expected the day to go.

Soon enough, Fury was walking a surprisingly pretty woman into the room where all the Avengers either stood or sat waiting.

It wasn’t supposed to be a dig, Bucky only assumed she’d be less… pretty— with the way Natasha had described her. Deadly. He was expecting a more disturbed, haunting character— not this beautiful face.

“I’m sure all of you have heard whispers here and there— so this isn’t entirely new to any of you. Well… maybe some of you.” Fury mumbled, looking in Sam’s direction. “You are receiving a new member. She will be an amazing addition to the team— powerful and will help keep you all alive.”

Everyone said hello, waving and sending warm smiles her way— Bucky could only imagine the nerves of this woman with all the staring.

She seemed to be holding up quite well, in fact— she seemed glum. Her face was sagging with defeat every so slightly— enough for Bucky to notice of course. He immediately felt drawn to her distress, wanting to know the cause of it.

“Now, as all of you noticed. She doesn’t speak, and will not speak unless she is to do so. Meaning while in a mission, or any other situation where one of you are in danger.” Fury explained.

Bucky couldn’t help the frown that formed in his face. It felt wrong to listen to Fury talk about her like she was an object and nothing more— just a weapon at their hands. He felt uncomfortable, and almost like a flash in his quick blinks— he suddenly remembered the same feeling back at HYDRA. All of a sudden— it was personal.

“Can I ask why she can’t speak?” Natasha wondered, voicing what most of us were thinking.”

It felt weird to talk about her like she wasn’t standing right in front of us— but she didn’t seem bothered by it. Guess you wouldn’t be bothered either, after years of someone speaking for you.

There was that uncomfortable feeling again.

“Yes, that was the next thing I wanted to discuss.” Fury started, letting the woman take a seat beside him. “(Y/n) is a Siren. One peep from her and you all would fall under a spell. A love spell, you could say.”

Everyone went silent, taking in the new information. Nobody knew how to react— as nobody had experience with a Siren before. In fact— mostly everyone assumed Siren’s were a myth.

“So… what? (Y/n) talks and we all go in a trance? How do you get out of it?” Scott asked from the back row.

Fury shook his head, sneaking a glance at (Y/n) before speaking.

“You don’t. You stay trapped in the trance until death.” Fury finished.

Everyone’s mouth went into O’s, silence taking over the room yet again. Half of the group were intimidated— while the other half which contained the stronger Avengers, such as Thor and Wanda— they were impressed.

“A love spell that kills you? Wow.” Natasha muttered to herself, having never heard of something like this before.

(Y/n) surprised everyone when she started signing something in her seat, a shameful expression on her face as she did so.

“What did she just say?” Sam asked, looking at both Bucky and Nat.

Bucky and Natasha shared a look with each other, looking back a you before revealing to the rest of the group.

“She said, you’ll love me to death.” Natasha told them.

Everyone grew rigid at that sentence. The sinister way the endearing saying went from sweet to dark. Even Wanda and Thor gulped, swallowing in fear. (Y/n) was new too, nobody knew if they could trust her yet. Even with the approval from Fury— everyone felt a little on edge.

Meanwhile, Bucky gazed at her with a new fascination. Something in him pushed him towards her— something inside him wanted to know everything about her.

He wondered why.

A/N: this seems short and i’m sorry if it feels rushed, but i just wanted to get this out there. has been sitting in my drafts for awhile. hasn’t been proof read 👀

TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @buckyb-stan @kmc1989 @silverfire13 @ghostofwinter @hanihoney88 @stilesofhannah @skittle479 @marvelogic @meetmeatyourworst @engie115 @wilsons-striped-ties @x209x @kandis-mom @l0kilaufeys0n7

[devixxish]

Pairing: Choso Kamo x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 2357 | 25 paragraphs

18+ MDNI. NOT proof read, smut, inked & pierced Choso, pining, tiny bit of tattooing, Choso kinda flirts? ig, groping, two consent checks, slight begging, cunnilingus, fingering, dom! Choso, pussydrunk! Choso. again probably more? idk

A/N: it's like 5AM and I'm tired asf 😭 I deleted the whole thing and started rewriting it like 12 hours ago. tbh I just kept writing and writing,i had once again too many ideas and got overwhelmed:') Also, is it obvious I suck at writing dialogue? ANYWAY, the ending is hella rushed and ugly tbh, but I still hope you enjoy! Divider by @benkeibear ♡

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ A guy looking both intimidating and sweet simultaneously as you watch him from afar while waiting for your scheduled appointment. Skin adorned with black ink, running from his fingers up his arms and getting lost beneath the mystery that lay under his shirt. A hint of a few splotches made their way up his neck, your eyes following them with intent. Your eyes reached that pretty face of his and much to your embarrassment, you had been caught staring, earning a small wink and a hint of a smirk from him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ While you had been many times to that particular tattoo parlor and caught multiple glimpses of him, either working, chatting or simply existing, you never got the chance to actually speak to him. You never even got booked with him. You merely settled for admiring from afar; the contrast of his pale skin with his intricate tattoos, his smudged eyeliner that made his gaze even more intense (or maybe it was just your imagination), the dark circles under his eyes that somehow added to his look, and the most adorable pigtails which were a stark contrast to his whole image. You had accepted your fate that you would never get the chance to come in contact with him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ Even the thought of him was enough to make you blush. You had convinced yourself that it was starting to become an unhealthy obsession- you would never find the balls to even get close to the guy! But it happened. What you had been not so secretly hoping for- wishing for. You had just saved up enough to get a piece done, and when you booked your appointment and heard the name of your artist- you had to physically contain yourself from squealing.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He was the first thing you saw as soon as you entered through the door on the day of your appointment. You were sure you had never felt more nervous in your life; the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and you could feel the sweat in your palms. It was embarrassing, honestly, but you had to get through it. With a deep breath, you found the courage you did not possess and walked over to him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ The way he lit up upon seeing you did nothing to calm your nerves. On the contrary- were you imagining things? He interacted with you in the sweetest way, and you had to constantly remind yourself that you were his client, his last for the day on top of that, so it was common sense for him to be polite. Soon enough, you both had moved to the back with you only then realizing that everyone else had already left for the night. Sigh.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He complimented you when you described the tattoo you wanted to get - a side piece coming down to your stomach - and you managed to give him a smile and a small 'thank you' in response with difficulty. He had started arranging the caps and inks, and whatever else he needed, when he suddenly voiced; "I'm going to need you to take this off.", pointing to your top.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ who laughed a melody when you yelped, "Excuse me?!", and explained that it was for the best if you didn't want ink to get on your top. You easily complied, slipping the garment off your body and laying back on your seat, calmly waiting for him. Soon, he approached to get you and the stencil ready. "Ready, pretty?"

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He didn't seem to notice the blush that creeped over your cheeks, and you did your best to hide it as well. He started tracing the lines with ink, and you were grateful for the slight distraction the pain from the machine provided. It didn't last. He kept touching you - to stretch your skin and hold you still, of course - and you were finding it extremely hard to not stare at his face, or the piercings adorning it, or his hands, or the way he was touching you. "How are you feeling?"

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ looked up at you, expecting a reply. You had to look at him, and so you did, giving him only a nod. A hint of a smirk appeared on his face, returning your nod. "Good. You're doing so good.", and with that he continued his job, slowly reaching your lower stomach as time passed. It hurt, of course it hurt, but something made you want to put on your brave face and act nonchalant about both the pain and the proximity of you both- his breath was fanning over you stomach, adding a tingly feeling to the pain you felt. And him, he was nonchalant about how he made you feel.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He wasn't stupid, nor a stranger to clients who had small, innocent crushes on him. It happened to everyone, and you didn't make it particularly hard to notice. He could see the way you looked at him, could feel the deeper breaths you sucked in each time his grip on you tightened, or the way you squirmed and closed your thighs every time he worked on your tummy. And Choso enjoyed it. Perhaps a little too much for his own good.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ His pause made you look back at him, a puzzled expression on your face. He gave you a smile and informed you you would be stopping for the night- you would need a second session. Your face visibly dropped; not because you wanted more of the pain from the machine, but because you wanted more of Choso. More of his touch, his small talk, his mere presence. You guessed he saw the look on your face, because just for a fleeting moment, something flickered in his eyes. What it was, you couldn't exactly tell, but it was enough to make your mind wander.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He had turned to throw away his gloves and you took it as your cue to put your shirt back on and take your leave. While slightly struggling with your top, you picked up the sound of his chair rolling, and when you were able to see again, Choso was right in front of you, right in between your parted legs. Before you could even utter a word, he had already stood up, towering over you as he leaned closer while supporting himself on the back of your chair. "Leaving already?"

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ simply chuckled when your breath hitched in your throat, a low and airy sound that tickled your ears. "You're being so obvious, it's almost painful to watch", he was smirking while eyeing you, watching you stumble over your words and ultimately huff out in defeat. You were the cutest thing he had laid eyes upon. And he wanted to devour you. And he was pretty sure you wanted that, too.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ leaned even closer. You could feel his breath mingling with your own as he took a moment to analyze your face; your widened eyes, your parted lips, your pretty face as a whole. "Can I?", it was a whisper so low you barely heard it, but you were so thankful you did. Your nod was all it took for him to finally crash his lips on yours, his hand snaking to the back of your neck to hold you in place as he used his tongue to part your lips and gain access inside your mouth. All you did was mewl and let him kiss you the way he wanted - rough, but sweet at the same time - your hands gripping the front of his shirt as if his kiss was your life support.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ couldn't hold himself back. His lips never once left your skin after the initial kiss. He only took a second to allow you to catch your breath, before attaching his lips to your neck, his hands taking a hold of your thighs and trailing up and under your shirt. The sounds he was pulling from you were mesmerizing- and he needed to hear more. You could feel his hands roaming all over your body, groping your tits, gripping your side - the one without the fresh tattoo - gripping your thighs. It was driving you insane, and you found yourself feeling grateful for the fact that everyone else had left by then.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ dropped to his knees, placing your thighs over his shoulders and pulling you slightly forward. The skirt you had decided to wear that day flipped over your stomach, exposing your black undies and just how wet you were all for him. His lips found your right inner thigh, kissing and nipping your skin while holding your gaze. You were looking at him in wonder, chewing on your bottom lip in anticipation of his next move.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ smoothed his hands over your thighs, until his right one settled over your crotch. His thumb swiped over the wet patch on your undies and you heard him swear under his breath. "So wet and I've only kissed you.." He shook his head in feign disappointment as he used his finger to pull your underwear to the side. You couldn't even remember how you found yourself in that position; your mind was consumed by Choso and what you hoped he was about to do soon.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ looked at you from below, his gaze intense and hungry- "Can I?", he asked for the second time that night, and you gave him a nod once again. But this time it wasn't enough. "I'm going to need you to speak up, darling". Through whines and whimpers, you managed to give him the verbal consent he needed to hear from you; "Yes! Please, just- Do something.."

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ cooed at the desperation lacing your voice. "Atta girl". And with that, his face disappeared in between your thighs. He buried his face into your cunt, his tongue lapping up your juices and flicking over your clit. A groan sounded from him, along with a muffled mumble of how good you taste, right before you felt his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking. Your hands practically flew to hold onto his head, your fingers threading through his tied up locks- you couldn't decide whether you wanted to pull him closer or pull him off. Everything you were feeling was overwhelming; your moans sounded deafening in your ears and the intensity of his pierced tongue on your clit was enough for you to slowly lose your sanity.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ could live forever in between your thighs and with his head buried into your cunny. Your taste was intoxicating and addicting. It only made him wonder how much sweeter you would taste after cumming, and how much sweeter your moans would sound. How pretty you would look. He was a determined man. As much as he didn't want to, he had to catch his breath and so he pulled back. "Such a sweet, pretty pussy.." He murmured, more to himself. You could feel one of his fingers teasing your hole and before you knew it, he was slipping his digit inside you. "Tight too.. Fuck."

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ got up, looming over your slumping form on the chair with his finger knuckle deep inside you. You looked up at him with doe eyes, your breath baited. His thumb was lazily circling your clit as he slowly pushed in a second finger causing you to cry out and hold onto his hand that was in between your legs. "You're doing so good f'me, baby.. That's it..". His encouragement only added to your pleasure, and while it felt embarrassing, you were already close.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ could feel it. Your tight heat enveloping his fingers had his mind wandering to how good you'd feel around his cock. But that had to wait. His fingers began moving skillfully inside you, curling upwards to hit directly your sweet spot and his lips claimed yours once again, swallowing your moans and whimpers. His fingers were moving fast and hard, driving you even closer to your release. You tried to warn him, tell him that you were close, but he was kissing you with such fervor you found it hard to resist him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ could feel you tightening, but he never expected to feel your thighs clenching over his hand and your release gushing around his fingers so soon; it was nothing he would complain about, though. He slowed down but didn't stop; instead he helped you ride out your orgasm, his forehead pressed against yours as he looked into your eyes. When you began squirming due to the overstimulation, that's when he knew he had to move away and let you breathe normally again - not that you would be able to.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ crouched down, taking his fingers out of you and showing them to you. "You made such a mess", and you looked half-shocked as he cleaned his digits off with his tongue. He stood up on his full height with a laugh and walked away, leaving you bewildered on the chair. Was that it? "Um..", you began and looked down at him when he crouched once more in between your legs and cleaned your mess with a cloth. "Hm?" He cocked one eyebrow, but his gaze remained focused on his task at hand. "Aren't.. I mean, won't we..?", you tried to subtly explain to him, only to earn a truly genuine laugh from him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ got up and helped you get dressed, "I wanna take you out first, what do you take me for?". That had you laughing this time, getting up from the seat on wobbly legs with his help. He escorted you all the way to the exit, a cheeky grin on his pretty face and a playful glint in his eyes. "I think I have a cancellation tomorrow. I'd be more than happy to finish up.. your tattoo".

Devixxish© All rights reserved! Do not, repost, reupload modify in any way or claim my work as your own!

[sargeant-bxrnes]

birthday ramé. [g.s]

—✮ summary: where your husband gojo, and your little daughter airi, are planning a nice birthday surprise for you, which of course, in true gojo’s fashion… must be a little chaotic. [requested!]

pairings: gojo x f!reader [married]

contents: pure fluff, girl-dad!gojo :) | wc: 930

my masterlist! | my requests are OPEN!

Gojo tiptoed around the kitchen with the grace of a rampaging elephant. His wild white hair seemed to have a mind of its own, adding to the general chaos that surrounded him. He was trying to do a nice gesture for you, and nothing will get in his way, not even his own lack of culinary skills.

Little Airi, a two-year-old bundle of joy and mini-Gojo, was perched on the kitchen counter, happily making an (artistic) mess with flour and sugar on the surface with her little hands. She giggled, resembling a pocket-sized version of her father, right down to the snow white hair, the mischievous glint in her eyes and the way she seemed to be fully charged with energy all the time.

Gojo, wearing his blindfold for 'professionalism' reasons, was attempting to crack eggs both in a rush and with dramatic flair, but ended up sending shells flying in every direction. Airi clapped her tiny hands, unaware of the kitchen mayhem she was contributing to.

Satoru smiled at his little baby, seeing a hint of your smile in little Airi’s face, she looked just like you, sometimes, but most if not all the time, little Airi was all him. Even now, when they're supposed to be preparing you a nice surprise but are downright creating chaos.

Suddenly, the unmistakable scent of burnt toast wafted through the air, and Gojo froze for a few seconds, realizing he might be losing control of the situation. He glanced at Airi, who was now happily smearing jam on a piece of pancake with her own little sticky hands, well, she was happy and away from the fire, all good.

"Uh-oh. Well, who doesn't love a bit of extra crunch?" He mumbles to himself as he removes the other pancake from the heat, aware that it's more of a... semi burnt pancake.

The kitchen door creaked open, and you, the birthday girl, walked in completely unsuspecting, rubbing your eyes from sleepiness, however an expression of amused confusion quickly took over your features.— you had woken up to the other side of your bed empty, which made you pout a bit, however that had soon changed by the muffled sounds of Airi’s little giggles and whatever ramble left Goru's mouth. — which prompted you here, to witness this cute moment.

"What kind of culinary circus is happening here?" You asked in amusement.

As Gojo valiantly attempted to rescue a pan from the clutches of overcooking, Airi presented you with a lopsided pancake. "’appy birfday, Mommy!"

You couldn't help but chuckle at the adorable mess unfolding before you, walking closer to the counter where little Airi was sitting down, as her little hands immediately made a 'grabby hands' gesture for you to pick her up.

Gojo, grinned like this chaotic deliver was planned all along, and turned to face you. "Happy birthday, love! Airi and I are just preparing a breakfast surprise, or as I like to call it, controlled chaos."

You raised an eyebrow with an amused expression, taking in the whimsical kitchen scene, an unnatural amount of dirty dishes all around, a mess of flour and sugar, and some cracked eggs by the side.

"Thank you, honey. And… Controlled chaos? Is that a new cooking technique?" You inquired as you picked up the baby and cradled her in your arms; she hid her head in the crook of your neck as her messy white hair tickled your skin.

"Absolutely! Cutting-edge stuff, really." Gojo muses, walking closer to you and your daughter, wrapping his long arm around both, leaning down to kiss her little forehead.

"Well, it's certainly a... unique surprise," you muse, tickling your little girl's side, making her giggle. "Thank you, my little chef. And you, Mr. Gojo, for this unforgettable start to my day."

“You are absolutely welcome, Mrs. Gojo.” Satoru grinned, leaning down to kiss you, his lips softly met yours in an affectionate gesture, the kiss was slow and filled with love, which admittedly he would've prolonged a bit more if little Airi hadn't patted his cheek with her jam smeared little fingers.

Gojo pulled back from the interrupted kiss, a playful whine escaping him as he shot Airi an exaggerated pout.

"Hey, little interrupter, Daddy was having a moment there." he chuckled, wiping a bit of jam from his cheek and smearing it playfully on her tiny nose.

Airi, seemingly unfazed, grinned innocently, her little head still comfortably resting on the crook of your neck. "Mommy mine!"

You chuckled, patting Gojo on the shoulder "Looks like you've got some competition for my affection, baby."

Gojo, not one to be easily deterred, leaned in close to the baby girl, a twinkle in his eye. "Airi, did you know I met your mom first? That means I can kiss her whenever I want."

Her eyes widened in curiosity, and before Gojo could continue with whatever questionable commentary he had in mind, you swiftly intervened. You shot your husband a look that warned him against taking the banter too far, and he paused, sighing dramatically.

"Alright, alright, I'll behave. For now," he conceded, and you gave him a mock stern look, shaking your head in amusement. "But just know, I have a whole repertoire of embarrassing stories waiting for Airi when she's older."

You rolled your eyes with a smile— Satoru wrapped his arms around you both as Airi giggles happy, and you realized that, despite the chaos, these were the moments that made your little family so uniquely charming, even surrounded by burnt toasts, lopsided pancakes and sticky fingers.

[prettypumpum]

Title: Crossed Dimensions I Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: You were living an ordinary life until the day a portal throws you into the Marvel universe. Trapped between an unbearable Deadpool and a Wolverine as troubling as he is charming, you discover powers you didn't know you had and an unknown past with certain heroes. As your anxiety grows in the face of this new reality, will you be able to find your place and perhaps become the hero they need?

Warnings: strong language, mentions of violence,

Word count: 1032

I woke up with a start. When I gathered my thoughts, I realized I was still on the plane bringing us back.

“You okay, last one?” asked Elis, our pilot.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, exhaling a bit, my hands still trembling from the adrenaline.

“My ex, she believed in rocks and that kind of nonsense,” he began. “To improve sleep, you need rose quartz, or lapis lazuli… no, wait, aventurine,” he continued, a bitter smile on his lips.

“You sure?” Logan asked me, his face betraying his unease. I could almost see his thoughts swirling, as if he was weighing each moment spent on this plane. I noticed his fingers gripping the edge of the metal bench we were sitting on, his knuckles turning white at every bump.

To be fair, the flying coffin we were crammed into was far from the comfort of the Blackbird, with its soft leather seats and sophisticated controls. Here, each vibration of the plane reminded me that we were miles above the ground, with prayer likely the only thing keeping us in the air.

After what happened last night, we hadn’t really talked. I decided to blame “the incident” on alcohol. After all, he’d never shown the slightest hint he could be interested. And if fate hadn’t forced us to meet, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed me.

“She decided to stop loving me overnight. I’m sure it’s because of that guy she met at work,” Elis added, taking off his cap and rubbing his head, visibly frustrated. “We were supposed to get married. My father was supposed to come; he’s really sick, lung cancer…” He continued, growing sadder. “We were super close, he and I… he’s the one who taught me to fly.”

“Great, someone put another coin in the machine,” muttered Wade, still on his phone. He’d been glued to it since yesterday, probably chatting with Vanessa.

“You know, sometimes when I’m flying, I think: ‘Go on, let go, let this bird crash, you’ve got nothing left to lose, old man,’” he concluded with a nervous laugh.

At his words, Logan and I exchanged a panicked look over the pilot’s words. Logan’s fear of flying was endearing, but it was becoming more realistic by the second.

“Are we almost there?” I asked Elis, a bit panicked.

“Yeah, we’ll be landing soon. Buckle up,” he replied. I could feel the plane descending slightly, which wasn’t very reassuring given the pilot’s mental state.

Logan was completely tense. I pushed my hand over his clenched fist to calm him. I could feel tiny metal points emerging from his knuckles, pricking the skin of my palm. As the plane began to land, a second large hand rested on mine, gently holding it. My hand seemed tiny, trapped between the mutant’s large, warm hands.

“Here we are, folks,” Elis shouted cheerfully. “Say, Lydia, I was saying we could grab a drink after…”

Logan was the first to get off the plane.

“She’s not interested,” Logan growled, cutting him off. I gave him a small, embarrassed smile.

“No worries,” Elis said, fiddling with his cap as we walked away from the plane. “Oh, your friend came to pick you up,” he pointed out, gesturing toward the SUV behind the fences of the small airport.

Laura was waiting for us, sitting on the hood, playing with her phone. It’s true Al couldn’t come get us, which was probably for the best.

“It’s their daughter,” Wade said, still glued to his screen but nodding toward Logan and me.

“Oh,” Elis gasped, shocked. “But how old were you when you had her exactly?”

It was one of many unsettling things about this story. Laura was eighteen, Logan had fought in the Civil War, and I’d just celebrated my twenty-sixth birthday.

“It’s complicated,” I replied, saying goodbye to Elis.

“Hi,” she greeted us with a smile. “Did you have a good flight?”

“We’re still alive,” Logan replied, climbing into the passenger seat.

I smiled at Laura before settling in the back while she took the wheel. Wade joined me after stowing his gear in the trunk, keeping with him the extra supply Enrique had given us.

“Yes, even if he’s weird and never shuts up, he’s cheap, so let’s all give him a wave,” Wade said, flashing a bright smile. I joined in, enthusiastically waving back at the pilot as he did the same, continuing until Laura had driven us far enough away.

“Look, the whole family’s together,” Wade grinned. “Papa Bear, Mama Bear, Baby Bear, and Goldilocks,” he said, pointing to each of us, ending on his scarred face.

“Enough with your crap,” Logan growled, clearly not amused by Wade’s jokes. The whole “family” thing bothered him as much as, if not more than, me. Unlike me, Laura had known his version of Logan, who was, after all, the best Logan. It was hard for him to live up to that legend.

“Stop bugging Logan,” I asked Wade softly.

“Yes, Mama,” he replied. “It made you all tough too, huh?” he asked through the window, as if someone could see him.

“Wade,” Logan growled louder.

I was grateful Laura was there because otherwise, Logan would’ve already driven his claws into Wade’s throat and started a fight.

“Alright, calm down, kitten. Laura, you can call me Uncle Wade,” I said, joking. I could see the mutant boiling with anger. “Laura, could you be a sweet little kitty and drop me off at Vanessa’s, please?”

“Of course, Uncle Wade,” Laura replied sarcastically.

“Don’t encourage him,” Logan told her.

“His humor, she gets it from our side of the family,” Wade whispered, nudging me with his elbow.

[fiendforbyler]

wait y’all i just realised something that is probably niche as fuck but anyway! if you know/have read the Keeper of the Lost Cities series in it’s entirety you will understand the relationship/love triangle between sophie, fitz and keefe. from the beginning fitz is set up at sophie’s love interest, even as young kids (i believe she is 12 in the first book? and he is maybe a year older? not 100% it’s been a while). she crushed on him for majority of the series and finally in book 7/8 they get together with a seemingly very romantic gesture from fitz, with many hints during the series that fitz liked her back. point is: we were all rooting for them. it is imprtant to note that it’s also always been hinted at but later in the series confirmed that keefe has major feelings for sophie as well. for me, this is representative of mike/el/will love triangle, with sophie being mike, keefe being will, and fitz being el. now, i don’t really like fitz but i LOVE el so yeah this isn’t a flawless comparison but ANYWAY back to my main point!! keefe (will) is so likeable with a tragic backstory, troubling plot line, has a lot of trauma AND a sorry crush on a girl (boy) who (supposedly) has eyes only for one person since the beginning- something that has been clearly set up and formed into a seemingly sweet relationship readers have been rooting for from the beginning. yeah this is sounding familiar? here’s the problem (or solution for sophkeefe/byler shippers like i): ITS NOT WHAT SOPHIE THOUGHT IT WOULD BE. fitz pressures her into trying to find her bio parents so they could be matched, he is aggressive and possessive over her (not in a good way) and she breaks up with him. during this, i’m pretty sure she begins to crush on keefe as well- keefe in permanent denial she could ever like him back of course- and feels terribly guilty about it, because she still has feeling for fitz. (yeah i told you, not the perfect comparison but you understand what i’m getting at right?) while things with fitz get worse, sophie starts genuinely discovering how she really feels about keefe, with lines like “if she was really really honest- and really really brave- she had to admit that the idea of being with keefe sounded… kind of amazing. Yes, it was scary. and yes there were risks. but wouldn’t it be worth trying?” wouldn’t it be worth trying? ladies and gents, we just discovered mikes inner monologue!!! scary, risky, but worth it? its what will is to him! mike has always been “too insecure to let (him)self see what’s right in front of (him)” (a line taken from the book!!!!!!) will is in front of him. he is being so distracted by his internalised homophobia that he has NOOO idea what he is missing!! “‘SERIOUSLY, STOP!’ she told herself again…/ adding those kind of feelings to a friendship pretty much ruined everything. ( talking about fitz)”

and it’s all oh so familiar…

BUT WAIT! THERES MORE! finally, FINALLY, during our long awaited kiss scene, she says this:

“some tiny part of her head had always wondered if kissing keefe could really be as great as everyone claimed. but kissing keefe was so. much. better.”

yeah. and then blah blah they get interrupted by who? of yes of course fitzy the ex boyfriend is here. and he says what when he finds out? OH YEAH. “you kissed him? you didn’t even kiss me!”

THAT SOUNDS A LOT LIKE “you never say it/i say it” AND “i didn’t say it/you didn’t have to” or pretty much the same way mike acts around will vs el.

you know what else? mikes inability to say i love you to el (hasn’t kissed fitz) but so clearly communicate it to will (kissing keefe)

if you haven’t read all this (and i don’t blame you!!) just read this next paragraph!

but back to my main MAIN point. sophitz was the ship EVERYONE (except maybe a select few) wanted right up until they got together!! it was perfect on paper, cute, with history and seemingly ‘connected’ character (as per the plot), and as soon as they got together, everything fell apart, as well as sophie closing herself off and beginning to lose fitz even before the downfall of their relationship due to her suppressed feelings about keefe. (cough cough MIKE) they need to break up for her to realise keefe was the better match all along. keefe, who never thought he as a chance. keefe, who loved her from the start. KEEFE, WHO LET HIS BEST FRIEND HAVE HER IF IT MEANT HAPPINESS TO THEM.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? please tell me i’m not crazy!! thank you for reading this it took me a long time to write but it also felt great to write this out even if no one reads this. hail to byler and a reminder we are one day closer to seeing them on screen. have a great day/night!

[idlerin]

love sick — profiles: inarizaki dogs

masterlist — ppl who think love sucks + [name] — episode one

suna’s life is basically just volleyball and his phone and his studies and did i mention volleyball? he’s a part of the college volleyball team along with atsumu and kiyoomi. suna already had a bunch of people vying for him since high school but he was never really interested in anyone at all, which makes atsumu teasing him because of all the people throwing themselves at him now in college even more unbearable.

to the outside world (meaning: people who are not close to suna) knows him to be intimidating and sarcastic, but that doesn’t scare away any of his admirers nope (unfortunately for him, that is exactly a lot of people’s type).

suna is currently a second year in tokyo university and lives outside of campus with osamu, his best friend. suna thinks living with osamu was one of the best decisions he’s ever made because of how good of a cook osamu is, it’s like he gets a personal chef… but osamu would smack him if he called him that and would probably never cook for suna again. suna likes his food thank you very much.

atsumu and sakusa are roommates living in the dorms. how this happened… oh well! sakusa ran out of options and atsumu was right there sigh (they actually live together just fine, until atsumu tries to rope him in one of the thirst trap videos he liked making).

the gc was created when they were first years in inarizaki by atsumu. really, it was just atsumu, osamu, and suna until atsumu added sakusa in their second year where he proclaimed sakusa was one of his new best friends (the gc name was never changed, no one really cares enough to change it anyways).

suna and sakusa actually get along really well because the twins could be too much sometimes, literally double the trouble. osamu is quiet but he’s just as sneaky as atsumu and together they’re a devilish pair (poor mama miya). suna and sakusa actually enjoy getting matcha before training on the days where their schedules match, it resulted into some really interesting conversations! like how everything has tiny living organisms surviving on it…

there have been plenty of times where suna found love letters in his bag or few times his way has been blocked by someone who was really really obviously dropping hints that they wanted to go out with hum. first it was love letters, then it was homemade sweets, then other gifts… it’s not that he doesn’t appreciate it, but man he just wants to be left alone!

that’s when he finds out that they were getting the courage to do all of this because of someone called [name] who in their words was “practically cupid”, suna got curious and tried to find who that person was. he found out that she was some love guru in the university, that’s what the people say. he soon figures out that this [name] who was practically cupid was the same [name] that atsumu kept blabbering about. suna only saw her in passing and they never really became acquainted with each other, but he knew of her existence.

the only ever real interaction they had with each other was when a girl was publicly professing her love for him and he ignored her and he got frustrated when she kept throwing herself at him so suna pushed her away. the girl fell and the only person who had the guts to help the girl was [name], who was watching the whole thing play out.

okay so they were technically on bad terms.

and it was probably a bad idea to use [name] as an excuse for his admirers to leave him alone, but she does owe him for indirectly tormenting him for months. also if [name] was some sort of cupid that brought hearts together, she should know how to make people go away too, right?

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people for look to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — all of my body is aching! i blame my period! and i still have something due at 11:59 send help

taglist is OPEN ! + @yas-mjm @agirlwholovesalot @yenqa @fairywriter-oracle @noideawhothatis @renardiererin @cheezitwh0re @zephestia @nicerthanu @wolffmaiden @2baddies-1porsche @bluegrey02 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @lylovw @fo-love @cloudsvna @apinu @coyloves @rockleeisbaeeee @geombyu @girlkissersco @reveusecherie @megumiif @erenjvegerrr @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ris-krispie @kamikokii @complexivelovely @hearts4faey @yuzurins @eleanorheartschishiya @hearts4itoshi @justsomeonewhoyoudontknow @rijhi @sleepystrwbrryy @snail-squasher @seiamor @wave2love @le000xxgrd @iuspired @theidontknowmehn @linmabbe @rntrsuna @skomiomi @tenaciouswritersheep @i-am-l0ved @kenmacantakemeaway @tojirin @hissy-fit18 @applejuic33 @zennryu

to those i can not tag, kindly change your mentions settings thank you!

note: this is not the whole taglist, it’s been a year since i posted the masterlist to love sick and there may be people who don’t want to be in it anymore so i’ve only tagged those who confirmed they still want to be in the taglist through this post by liking or commenting as i don’t want to bother people! hehe