#Playing this game again after i quit long time ago made me lose my hot girl swag

[cardinal-copia-popia]

We Will Go Softly Into the Night

(Papa IV x Female Reader)

After getting super emotional during Respite On The Spitalfields at the ritual I attended over the weekend, I NEEDED to write this. For my own sanity's sake, I needed to do this. It was cathartic, even though I'll probably never be able to listen to Respite ever again without crying.

Also here on AO3

(Under the cut for length)

Sister Imperator had just left Copia's room not five minutes ago when he suddenly heard a commotion outside. Could he not just play his video games in peace for once? 

"I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it!"

"Like hell, he didn't!"

Copia frowned, pausing the game. He was not expecting to hear your voice, especially not so agitated. He was about to stand to see what was going on when you flew into the room, tears standing in your eyes, Aether hot on your heels. 

"Amore?" Copia questioned, now very concerned.

"Why is Saltarian pushing an empty glass coffin through the hallways?!" you demanded.

Copia looked down. "Ah. You saw that."

"Everyone is seeing it. He's making a point to parade it around! I know what this means, Copia! How long were you going to hide it?!"

He stood and stepped up to you, sending a look at Aether, who made a hasty retreat.

"I was not hiding anything, tesoro mio," Copia said gently, his hands on your upper arms. "Saltarian is posturing, nothing more."

You did not look convinced and all but glared up at him through your tears. "The coffin was empty. And they only use the glass ones for Papas. I'm not stupid, Copia."

"I am not going anywhere. I promise."

You shook your head. "I know how this goes. You're going to end up just like Primo and Secondo and Terzo… Someday, I'm going to be looking at you in one of those awful boxes, and I—" You broke off, your voice catching with emotion as your tears finally fell.

Copia pulled you into his arms and gently shushed you. "I promise you, cara mia. Nothing is going to happen to me."

"I don't believe you."

He closed his eyes and nuzzled into your hair. You were right; something was going to happen, but how could he tell you that? He knew his time was up. It was not a matter of if anymore, but rather when. He had a good idea, knowing The Clergy would want to make a show out of it, a spectacle. The bastard Papa who usurped the papacy meets his untimely demise in front of thousands. But how was he supposed to tell you, the love of his life, this?

"If anything happened to you…" you began in a small, broken voice that gripped his heart. "I don't think I could stand it."

"What must I do to convince you?" he murmured, his hand touching your cheek to tilt your face toward his.

You gazed up at him, cheeks stained with tears, eyes red, and he could not help but think you were still so beautiful.

"Don't die."

Copia sighed, but before he could respond, you went on.

"Whatever they do to you, they're going to have to do to me, too."

"Amore—"

"I mean it!" you sobbed. "I can't do this without you! I won't let them take you from me!"

Copia pulled you back onto his bed and into his lap, cuddling you close. You curled around him, pressing your face to his neck, breathing him in.

"You haven't lost me yet," he whispered. "And I promise you, amore mio, that if they do try something, I will fight tooth and nail against it. I swear to you, you will not lose me. You have me forever."

You sniffed. "What about nothing ever lasts forever?"

"My time as Papa will not last forever, but my love for you will. And because of that love, I will always be with you."

"Copia," you cried, clutching to him tighter.

"You have given me so many reasons to live. I will not let them take me away from you so easily."

You lifted your head and touched his cheek. "Promise me again."

He caught your hand and kissed your palm. "I promise. Whatever happens, you will not lose me. Not entirely."

That was not quite what you wanted to hear, he knew, but before you could respond, he kissed you. He kissed you so thoroughly and passionately, hoping to make you forget about this for a while.

And later, when you both lay naked under his covers, spent and panting, clinging to each other for dear life, Copia would promise you again. He would not stop until you believed him.

***************

Copia swiftly made his way through the maze of hallways backstage, hurrying to get to where you were waiting for him. He had to do this quickly. If there was anything to be done now, it was this.

He found you in the wings where you were waiting for the ritual to begin. He grabbed your hand, startling you, and pulled you into a more secluded area, away from any prying eyes and listening ears.

"Copia?"

He swept you up into a kiss, pouring his love into it as best he could, knowing he was about to irreparably hurt you and break his promise. When he broke the kiss, there were tears in your eyes. You knew. You knew what was coming.

"No matter what happens," he began, his tone serious, "no matter what you see tonight, promise me something, amore mio." 

"What? What do you mean? What's going to happen? You're scaring me, Copia!" 

"Promise me!" he demanded, perhaps a bit too forcefully.

"I-I promise." 

Copia nodded and pressed a note into your hands. "Promise me that no matter what occurs tonight, you will do exactly as this note says." You began to open it, but Copia quickly stopped you. "No, not now. Wait until you are alone." 

"Copia, please, don't—" 

He gently shushed you, taking your face in his hands and kissing you sweetly, his thumbs catching the tears that fell. "Now, now… None of that, amore. You'll be strong for me, sì?" You blinked, more tears falling, but you nodded. Copia smiled warmly at you, though it was tinged with sadness. "Bene. Now, I must go. And remember the note! Please, cara mia, it is important you do not forget." 

"I won't."

He hesitated for a moment longer, gazing at you, memorizing your face. "I love you."

Your bottom lip trembled. "I love you, too, Copia."

He felt tears sting his eyes, absolutely hating to do this to you. He pulled you in for another kiss, trying not to think about how final it felt. The last time before it's over….

With great effort, Copia pulled away and walked backward away from you, keeping you in his sight for as long as he could before he finally had to turn and hurry away, carefully brushing his tears away lest he ruin his paint.

"Did you say goodbye?" 

Copia stopped, not looking at her, his shoulders tense and his eyes downcast. Sister Imperator being here only confirmed everything. She had to make sure everything went according to plan. 

"Sì." 

"How did she take it?" 

He shot a glare at his mother. "How do you think? If your intent is to devastate her, this will do it. And do not be surprised if she—" His voice caught as the reality of what he was about to say hit him like a ton of bricks. "Do not be surprised if she wants to follow me." 

"Oh, I'll be keeping an eye on her, don't you worry, C. From now on, she'll hardly be leaving my sight." 

Copia frowned. Did she know? How could she? Unless… He looked up and saw his ghouls gathered ahead of him, waiting and watching. Surely not. 

"The masses are waiting for you, C," the Sister continued. "Don't keep them waiting too long. After all, the show must go on." 

Copia refused to look at her and stalked toward the ghouls. They said nothing, only stared at him, waiting for their cue to head out on stage. 

"Let us get this over with," he growled to them, determined to give the masses the best damned show ever.

*****************

You waited a few moments after Copia left to collect yourself as best you could. But no matter how many deep breaths you took, you still felt like you were on the verge of a breakdown. No matter what he said, you knew this was it. He would not be able to stop it. Copia was only one man against The Clergy. And no one went against The Clergy and won.

With shaky hands, you unfolded the note, already feeling your heart seize upon seeing Copia’s all too familiar handwriting.

Amore mio, 

Whatever you see tonight, for your safety and the safety of the little life growing inside you, you must not ask any questions. There is nothing else to be done. What happens must happen. It is the order of things. But there is one other thing I beg of you to do, cara mia. At the end of the ritual, go to the exit on the farthest side of the venue and make sure you are not followed. Perhaps it is a selfish request, but you will understand when the time comes. For me, amore mio. Do this one last thing for me because where I am going, you cannot follow. And please know that everything I am doing is to keep you safe. 

I love you. Never forget that.

Eternally yours,

Copia

That only confirmed everything. This was well and truly the end. Tonight, you would witness your love’s death, and you could do nothing about it.

You watched the man you loved pour his heart and soul into his performance as only he could, the crowd going absolutely wild with each song played. You had been to every one of Copia’s rituals, but this was hands down the best one ever. He and the ghouls were so in sync. It was glorious to see, and it nearly made you forget about what was about to happen. Nearly, but not completely.

You had no idea how it would happen, so after his speech about not mourning something you will lose, enjoy it while it’s here, and launching into Respite On The Spitalfields, the dread set in full force. You were tense, hardly even paying attention to Copia, looking around to try to figure out how it was going to be done.

It all ended up happening so fast that you barely comprehended it. Between the ghouls suddenly moving, cutting the song short, and the screams of the audience, all you could see beyond the fog machines was a blur of movement. Panic gripped you, and your instinct was to run out to help Copia, but fear kept your feet firmly in place. Because you were so close to the stage, you could hear the vicious snarling from the ghouls but never a sound out of Copia. Dewdrop emerged first, stumbling back to reveal his blood-covered hands. That was when the screaming turned into actual terrified ones. 

The stage crew rushed out, trying to stop the ghouls, but it was too late. The fog cleared away, and there laid Copia’s body, his clothes shredded and stained with blood. Perhaps mercifully, you could not see his face from your vantage point, but it did not matter. Hot tears streaked down your face as you took in the sight before you. It felt like your heart was being ripped from your chest.

You began to collapse, a heartbroken wail tearing past your lips as you felt your world crumble, but two strong hands caught you before you could hit the ground. You began to be moved, pulled, and you fought against it with everything you had in you, desperate to get to Copia, begging them not to take you away from him. 

“Can’t do that, Mama. Besides, Papa told you to leave.”

Aether.

Aether was the one pulling you along, taking you away from the macabre scene. Part of you cursed him. If Aether had been there, none of this would have happened. He would not have let it. He could have stopped them. Is that why Sister Imperator had him replaced?

Aether led you around the perimeter of the venue, taking his time to make sure no one saw you, and out to a secluded driveway. A black car was parked a little ways away, and a man stood nearby, his back to you. He was speaking to a ghoul who had a hood over his head, shrouding his face in shadow, so you had no idea who he was. The ghoul seemed to take notice of you and alerted the man.

As soon as he turned, you felt your knees start to give out, and a body-wracking sob left you. Aether grabbed you so you did not fall.

There before you stood Copia, his face completely free of paint and dressed casually in jeans and a black button-up, making him totally inconspicuous, like just another ritual attendee. And he was totally fine. There was no blood anywhere, no signs of anything that had occurred on stage. He was alive and well before you and hurrying to your side as fast as he could.

"Oh, amore," he breathed, pulling you into his arms.

You could not control your sobs, torn between disbelief and relief. He held fast to you with one arm around your waist while his other hand cradled the back of your head. You clung to him so tightly that you were likely leaving bruises.

"I-I don't understand," you cried. "I saw you! I-I saw—"

Copia shook his head and leaned back enough to pepper your face with kisses. "You saw what needed to be seen. What Sister Imperator expected. My death. My mother had her plans, but I had mine as well." You still did not understand. Copia took your face in his hands. "She wanted me dead, and so I am dead. As far as anyone within the ministry is concerned, I was murdered on stage. She tasked my ghouls with this, but what she does not know is that they are entirely loyal to me."

"So it was all fake?" you asked, your brain struggling to keep up.

"Sì. I am so sorry, amore mio. Everyone had to believe I was dead —even you. But I am selfish. I needed to see you one last time before I left." He caressed your cheek, and you turned into the warmth of his hand, basking in it. "I could not hurt you that way, thinking you had watched me die. But now, I must leave. I must go far away from here."

"Take me with you!" you cried. "Don't leave me— us here alone!"

Copia dropped a hand to your abdomen. “You will be much safer at the Abbey, I assure you. If anyone finds out I am still alive, they will come after me to make sure the job is properly done. You being with me will only put you in danger.”

“I don’t care! I want to go with you! You promised.”

He hung his head, his expression greatly troubled. "I suppose I did. Amore, I cannot stomach the thought of putting you in danger."

"I'm making this decision, Copia," you said firmly, though your voice shook, and clutched the front of his shirt. "I'm going with you."

"You'd better let her come with us, Papa," Aether said.

You glanced at him. "Both of you?"

Copia nodded. "With his involvement in helping me escape, Aether is not safe either. Therefore, he must leave, too." He then sighed. "And so are you, cara mia."

You stared up at him. "You mean it?"

He wrapped his arms around you securely, a look of determination crossing his face. "I do. Absolutely. I want you forever at my side."

More tears filled your eyes. "That's the only place I've ever wanted to be. But where will we go?”

“There is a little place in Italy. I have… friends there.”

You were dubious. “You trust these friends?”

Copia smirked a bit. "With my life."

"Then let's go! Together. The way it should be."

"Sì, amore, the way it should be."

He led her to the car and got in the back with her while Aether got in the front with the other ghoul. You still had no idea who they were, but it did not matter. The only thing that did was the man beside you that let you cuddle up to his side so he could hold you close. Copia repeatedly pressed tender kisses to your face, catching the occasional tear with his lips. When your hand was not resting over his heart to feel its steady beat, your fingers traced over his face, memorizing each line and curve, basking in how alive he was.

“What will they think happened to me?” you asked quietly after a long while.

Copia shrugged. “The truth. You followed me.”

You swallowed hard. “You mean… they’ll all think I’m dead, too.”

Copia obviously did not like this, but he nodded. “Sì. It must be this way. So long as I am alive, I am a threat to them. You carry my heir, cara mia. The Clergy would not let you go so easily if they knew. You would be protected, sì, if you stayed, but if you leave… I worry what they might try to do. A child with claims to the papacy they had no hand in raising…”

You sat up suddenly, your hand pressed to his chest. "I have to go back to the Abbey. Just to grab some things."

"What? No, cara, it is too dangerous!" Copia exclaimed.

"Please, Cope!"

"I can get her in and out without being seen," Aether said from the passenger seat.

Copia looked between him and you, debating. "Fine. If we go now, perhaps we will beat everyone back. But please, amore, do not dally there. If you are caught, you must stay, and I must go on."

You nodded and kissed him briefly. "I understand. Thank you."

He kissed your forehead as you settled against him again. "Do not thank me yet."

"I was more so thanking you for letting me go with you." You pressed closer to him. "I would have followed had I known you were alive. I wouldn't have stopped until I found you."

Copia sighed. “I know. As you say, we will go together, amore mio, softly into the night.” 

******************

It was evening the next day when you pulled up to a secluded entrance to the Abbey you did not even know existed. But, perhaps that was by design. Either way, Aether led you through the Abbey, taking paths to avoid anyone and doubling back if he heard anything suspicious ahead.

You were just about to head up the stairs to the papal suites when Aether stopped short and threw an arm out to stop you.

There on the steps stood Dew.

Aether stepped in front of you, blocking you just in case the fire ghoul tried anything. But all Dew did was stare back for a long moment. 

“You’re lucky I saw you,” he finally said. “This way, before Sister Imperator comes back.” 

Aether glanced back at you, giving you a warning look. Stay behind me. You were not going to go anywhere else, anyway. 

Dew led you the rest of the way to the suite and let you inside. There were only a few things you needed to grab. Perhaps it was stupid and selfish to come back for these, but these were mementos from your past, both from your family and from your time with Copia. You hated the thought of losing them forever.

As you grabbed a suitcase to put them in, you looked back toward the door just in time to see Aether grab the front of Dew’s shirt and slam him up against the wall. You continued gathering your things as you listened to them.

“You better not be setting us up,” Aether growled.

“Do you really think I’d hurt her?” Dew asked, nodding toward you. “Or you? Or Papa? None of us would! The plan went perfectly!”

"You sure seemed to relish what you did on stage."

"It had to be believable! Everyone had to believe we killed Papa."

"What did they threaten you with?" Aether asked in a low voice, letting Dew go. "The Clergy knows how loyal ghouls are to their Papas. What were they going to do with you if you refused?"

"Banish us back to Hell, what else?" Dew shook his head. "And not back to our respective realms."

Aether shook his head. "I wish I understood why they were doing this. Why they wanted to get rid of Papa in the first place.”

"He was becoming too well-liked, loved. With the masses behind him, they worried they were losing their power over him. Out of any of the Papas so far, Copia had the greatest advantage to end them." 

"And he still does! If Copia ever decides to come back…"

Dew nodded. "That will be the end of The Clergy."

Aether was about to respond but quickly turned toward the door. Before either ghoul could react, the door slammed open.

Sister Imperator stood there, looking at both ghouls before cutting her eyes over toward you. "Going somewhere?" she asked calmly.

"I, um…" you began.

She walked up to you, her eyes never leaving you. You stared back, refusing to waver no matter how much she intimidated you. The pair of you simply stared at each other for a long while before she finally spoke.

"Take care of him."

You blinked. She knew? Your confusion must have been extremely obvious.

"He's my son. Do you really think I wanted him dead?" she asked. "But no one crosses The Clergy. Not even me." She looked back at the ghouls and then nodded to your suitcase. "Come. We'll need to hurry. I assume you came in the back way?"

"Yes," Aether replied.

The Sister nodded and led them out. Aether grabbed your bag, and you numbly followed them out. Could you really trust Sister Imperator? If she knew Copia was not dead, what if she happened to let it slip?

As you passed by a frosted window, you heard a squeak. There sat Rigatoni on the windowsill. As you walked by, you held out your hand, letting the rat climb up your arm to settle on your shoulder. Copia would be happy to see him again and to be able to take him along, too.

As you stepped out into the moonlight, the Sister stopped short, staring at the car parked there.

Copia stared out of the car's open window at his mother. She nodded at him, a look of understanding passing between the two. Copia nodded back and rolled up the window.

"Take care of him," she said again to you, her voice trembling ever so slightly, her eyes never leaving the car. "And take care of my grandchild."

"I will, Sister. I promise." 

She looked at you, and you could see tears shining in her eyes. "If there's ever a chance, ever a way…" She sighed. "Some day, I hope to see you again."

You nodded. "Some day."

She swallowed hard and took a step back. "Go. Start your new life. We’ll manage here."

"Goodbye, Sister."

She did not say anymore but stood and watched as you drove off, disappearing into the night.

****************

Copia held your hand the entire car ride to the airport, the entire flight, and the whole car ride out to the Italian countryside. You watched out the windows in awe, having never been to Italy before. Copia had always wanted to take you someday; he just wished now that the circumstances were different.

Your mood improved greatly over the course of the trip, and when you reached the house, Copia watched you with a smitten smile as you 'oohed' and 'ahhed' over your new home. Just wait until you see the inside, amore.

With your hand still clasped firmly in his, he led you through the house and out to the back, where his friends were waiting.

You stopped dead in your tracks, pulling back on Copia's hand. He looked at you, unable to stop the small smile from tugging at his lips as you took in the sight before you.

"Fratellino! Good to see you."

Copia turned to face his raven-haired brother and hugged him. "And you, Terzo."

Terzo grinned and looked past Copia at you. "Something wrong, cara mia? You look as though you've seen a ghost."

You swallowed hard. "Make that three."

Primo and Secondo stood and stepped up to stand behind Terzo.

"We did not realize you were coming along," Primo said, reaching out to take your hand and kiss the back of it. "I am glad to see you again, Sorella."

"Are you sure that was wise?" Secondo asked Copia.

"I didn't give him a choice," you responded before Copia could. You then shook your head. "I don't understand. You're all here. Alive. But… Your bodies are on display at every ritual!"

"That is all they are," Secondo answered. "Bodies. Perfect copies of us. No one would dare desecrate the body of a Papa to find out if those in the coffins are really ours, not even Sister Imperator. Why would she double-check when she was assured that their bodies were perfectly preserved to be put on display?"

"The only thing they needed was the confirmation of no pulse," Terzo added.

Primo nodded. "And thanks to a few home remedies, I was able to simulate that in all of us, long enough for us to get away while our ghouls replaced us with those perfect copies."

“They were exactly as you saw. A body, but only a copy. ”

You looked at Copia. "And you? There's a body back there that looks just like you?"

He nodded. "Sì. And it, too, will be displayed at every ritual."

You shook your head again. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Not at the moment," Copia said. "Let us let you get used to this right now."

"If I ever will!" 

The brothers exchanged smiles. Primo stepped up to your side and placed your hand in the crook of his arm. "Come, Sorella. I will show you to your room, let you freshen up before lunch, sì?"

Copia could tell from your expression that you were overwhelmed but happy. He knew this was the last thing you expected to find here. He watched you until you were out of sight.

"It was dangerous bringing her here,” Secondo said, turning to Copia. “If anyone were to find out—”

“No one will find out. I will make sure of that,” Copia vowed.

Secondo shook his head. “I sure hope you know what you are doing, Copia.”

“So do I…”

An hour later, Copia went up to your room, finding you staring out the window. He stepped up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“This is really going to be our life, huh?”

His heart sank. “Regret it already?”

You turned sharply and looked up at him. “Of course not! Never! But it will take some getting used to.”

"I know… And I am sorry it must be this way."

You hugged him tightly. "So long as you're here, alive, I don't care where we are. I just can't stand the thought of losing you."

"Now, you won't have to, amore. I am not going anywhere."

He moved you just enough to kiss you, both of you bathed in the noontime sunlight. For the first time in months, Copia felt content. Perfectly and wholly content with you in his arms, safe, with the prospect of your child arriving just a few months away.

If this is what came from his perceived death, then all of it was worth it.

The two of you, together, eternally bound by your love.

#my writing #papa iv #copia #ghost band #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #reader #ghost fanfic #ghost band fanfic

[aowyn]

Fic Stats Game

Rules: Give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most bookmarks, fourth most comments, fifth most words, and your fic with the least amount of words.

tagged by the lovely fairy @child-of-the-fairy-folk ! <3 thanks for tagging me!!! :D

first most hits: and though the winter came it hurt them not

Show me your true appearance, Wen Kexing had said at dinner, looking up at Zhou Zishu through half-lidded eyes. His long fingers were cool against Zhou Zishu’s, who clutched his wine cup for dear life. And I’ll tell you what I want. I know what you want, Zhou Zishu didn’t say. It’s written all over your face. Wen Kexing invites Zhou Zishu to his rooms, and Zhou Zishu forgets about the nails.

i wrote this in the VERY early days of word of honor fandom, when you could count the number of english-language fics on one hand. as a result, this fic became very popular because there literally wasn't anything else to read LOL. (if you go in the word of honor fandom tag on ao3, limit to english language, then go to the very last page, it's there!

second most kudos: all the fires faded and were quenched

“I’m losing my senses, Lao Wen,” he said, with a hoarse bluntness that was perhaps a little cruel. He paused, and took a deep breath. Wen Kexing stared, still silent, black eyes wide with a distressed devotion that caused Zhou Zishu’s stomach to fill with hot shame. “I’m dying.” --- Zhou Zishu can't smell Wen Kexing anymore.

similar situation to the first fic! this story is on the third to last page of english word of honor fics sorted by date rather than the last one XD

third most bookmarks: silent and immutable as snow

He reaches for Wen Kexing's hands; touching Wen Kexing has become as natural as breathing, or perhaps it's the other way around. Being with Wen Kexing means being alive, or maybe not something quite so all-consuming as being alive, but rather the many smaller intimacies that coalesce into a life: Wen Kexing is the click of chopsticks at a common table and the rustle of blankets in a shared bed. Wen Kexing's hands are cooler than normal. At first, Zhou Zishu attributes it to the chill of the room, but when he feels for a pulse in his wrist and finds nothing, his stomach curdles like souring milk.

i wrote this story to cope with how the word of honor finale made me feel, and it resonated with a lot of people!

fourth most comments: rivers have not kept their courses

Across the ashy remains of the campfire, Wen Kexing sat on a log, playing his jade xiao. To Zhou Zishu’s sleep-addled mind, he looked to be made of sunlight, daybreak setting the white silk of his fine clothing aglow with pinks and pale yellows. It seemed a full night of sleep turned Zhou Zishu into a sappy poet. He resolved to never fall asleep to Wen Kexing’s flute again lest that affliction became incurable.

similar situation to the first and second fics! this story is on the second to last page of english word of honor fics on ao3 XD

fifth most words: sky above, crowned with sun

An olive tree, trunk gnarled and black. The mortals would call it ancient, but time is not so fast for gods, and Persephone counts not the years. All she knows is that the tree is as old as her dead son.

this is a hades fic i wrote for the extreme timed challenge gift exchange, where you have 48 hours after receiving your giftee's prompt to complete a fanwork for them. i wrote 2.2k words!

least amount of words: saudade

They lay together, in the time-worn quiet of the Four Seasons Manor—Zhou Zishu refused to call it a ruin, because it stopped being one as soon as the three of them came back to live in it.

on tumblr a few years ago i wrote double drabbles for people who left an ask with a cool word and a word of honor character, and this is one of them!

i tag @maebird-melody @morluin @morifiinwe @feanor @andreth-with-a-sword @garden-holic @raine-kai @vryivs @aredhels @gayjaytodd @rose-ncrantz and anyone else who would like to do this game! (and also no obligation to do it if i've tagged you!) <3

#thanks for tagging me fairy!!! <3 #said el #things im in #el wrote a fic

[tumbledfreckles]

Ooohh! What about Jily/Marauders drunken shenanigans? *wiggles eyebrows mischievously* 😏😏😏😝

Max I don't even know how long ago you sent me this, I know it's been too long. But I was waiting for inspiration, and this isn't quite drunken, but it is a party and they've had some drinks so I'm hoping it's close enough, because I love it and it rounds out my three drabbles this weekend and uses my trope of the moment - names. I hope you enjoy it.

“He’s just so oblivious.”

“I know.”

“He’s infuriating.”

“I know.”

“It’s like he doesn’t even have a fucking clue.”

“Lily, I know.”

Lily cast a sidelong glance at Sirius, who sat next to her on the windowsill, on the edge of one of the wildest parties that the Gryffindor Common Room had seen in her seven years there. To say they’d gone nuts after winning the House Cup was an understatement of epic proportions.

“Sorry,” she huffed with a sigh. “I know you’ve heard this before.”

“From both sides,” SIrius shook his head darkly. “You two are driving me crazy.”

“It’s him!” Lily protested. “You say he feels the same, but why won’t he do anything about it?”

“After you turned him down all those times?” Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you do something about it?”

“After I turned him down all those times?” She met his pointed gaze with one of her own.

“Fair enough.” Sirius thought for a second. His face lit with a grin. “Wait, I know.”

Lily felt afraid.

Very, very afraid.

“I feel like I shouldn’t ask.”

Sirius tutted, “Now, now, don’t act like you're not desperate for my mate there.”

They both turned toward the bloke in question, clear across the common room, who was currently high fiving Remus as they won their third game of beer pong against the Prewett twins. His smile lit up his face, his eyes danced and there was just the slightest flash of toned abdominals as he ran his hand through his hair, pushing the silky locks out of his face. He caught Lily’s eye across the room and winked.

Her head ducked, cheeks flushing even as heat pooled in areas much lower down.

“Evans?” Sirius was watching her, daring her to contradict him. “Still waiting.”

Lily slumped gloomily back against the window. “Yeah, alright, fine, have at it.”

When Sirius was finished with his idea, Lily had an eyebrow of her own to raise.

“You think that will work?”

He shook his head at her uncertainty. “He’ll lose his shit.”

“He probably won’t even notice.”

“Oh, he’ll notice. I give him three minutes before he pounces.”

Lily was unconvinced. “It’ll take at least five.”

“Place a wager?”

“What are your terms?”

“You get Marlene to go on a date with me.”

Lily scoffed openly, “Why do you think I can get her to do that?”

“Because she’s your best friend.” Sirius said it like it was obvious.

“Ask her yourself.”

“Is that your terms?”

Lily crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine. Sure. Those are my terms. If it works, I’ll get her to go out with you. If it doesn’t, you have to ask Marlene out. Seriously.” She pointed a finger, stabbing his chest as his mouth opened. “Don’t say it.”

“Fine,” Sirius rubbed his sternum. “Ruin all my fun. Do we have an agreement?”

She took his outstretched hand, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Likewise. Now, off you go.”

She was subtle about it. At least, she hoped she was. Lily moved slowly across the room towards the beer pong table. She took her time. Chatted to various fellow students and friends. Got herself a new drink, smirking to herself as she allowed Peter to spike her butterbeer. Liquid courage and all that.

“Who’s winning?” she asked as she sidled up to Mary, along the edge of the table.

“Our boys,” Mary inclined her head toward Remus and James.

Our boys. She liked the sound of that. Mary only meant it as in their fellow Gryffindors, compared to the Hufflepuffs of Gideon and Fabian, but Lily liked it all the same.

“Insulted you even have to ask, Evans,” James chidded her, as he watched Remus scull a full cup of butterbeer.

“Apologies, James, I should have known,” Lily felt her breath catch in her throat, making her words quiet.

He heard them anyway.

James barely seemed to register that the ball he’d just thrown had bounced off the rim of the cup he’d aimed for. He definitely didn’t notice the Prewetts crowing across the table as Gideon lined up his next shot. Nor did he spare Remus a glance as his friend sighed and shot him a pained look.

“What did you just say?” James spun to face Lily, heedless to the game, the people around them.

“I said I was sorry for doubting you,” Lily fought hard to keep the smile off her face.

“That wasn’t what you said.” He took the beer that Remus forced into his hand, Fabian’s turn having been a success. It stayed in his hand as he took several steps toward her.

“Well, no, not word for word,” Lily shifted her weight back, her heart rate increasing as she saw the flash in his eyes, the smirk on his face.

“James, it’s your -” Remus was cut off as James thrust the cup back at him.

“Get Peter.”

“We’ll lose, we’re on a streak, you can’t -”

“I don’t care. Get Peter,” James didn’t even look to see how his friend reacted, his eyes fixed on hers.

Lily swallowed, trying to force her heart back into her chest as she took more steps back, away from Mary, away from the table, away from the throng of beer pong enthusiasts.

“Not like you to give up a game so easily,” she tried to jest, but the words came out soft, too soft.

James’ lips twitched, just slightly, just enough to relax her shoulders. “Depends on the reason.”

“What was the reason?”

“Better game started.”

Lily stopped in her retreat, not moving even as his toes lined up with hers. Her head tilted to the side as she looked up at him. “This a game, is it?”

James shook his head, “Not really. Not to me.”

“Neither,” she was reduced to a whisper as his hand curved around her jaw, fingers spanning her neck, thumb brushing across her cheek.

“Say it again,” he whispered, forehead almost on hers.

“I’m sorry for-”

“Not that,” he cut her off harshly, his other hand squeezing at her hip where she hadn’t even realised he held her. “The part where you said my name.”

Lily looked at him, at the hazel that danced with gold, at the earnestness, the longing in his expression, mixed with hope and light and lust. She looked at him and realised everything else had faded away.

“James.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond, pushing straight up into his arms, threading her hands into the soft silky hair she’d admired to bring him down to her. He needed no such encouragement, meeting her exhale on his inhale, taking the breath from her lungs their mouths sealed, a perfect fit. It was hot and damp, and her skin tingled everywhere it met with his. James sighed into her mouth, his tongue tracing the edge of her inner lip before finding hers to play with.

“Shit,” she whispered, when they finally pulled apart, though neither moved very far.

“That bad, huh?” James leant back toward her. “I can try again.”

“No,” Lily shook her head, pressing another three kisses at least to his lips before she could pull away again. “No, not you.”

“Then what?” James’ hand had found it’s way under her top, and began traced to skin along the edge of her trousers, raising goosebumps along it’s path.

It made it difficult to focus, to say the least. She let her fingers trail down his neck to squeeze the defined muscles of his shoulder, was gratified by the groan that escaped him, that she wasn’t the only one feeling so much right then. It made it easier to think.

“I’ve got to figure out how to get Marlene to go on a date with Sirius, that’s all.” Lily looked up at James, smiling invitingly. “How do you feel about double dating?”

#jily #jily fic #jily drabble #hogwarts jily #marauders #canon jily #things i do while chem is at the beta's #i'm going to need more prompts now #theres only one left #freckles writes #jily fanfiction #jily fanfic

[quaranmine]

The Babysitting Game

They say it takes a village to raise a child. Well, Grian doesn't have a child but he does have an egg and a village. That’s basically the same thing, right?

Grian acquires an egg. His friends help him.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly fluff! Hermits: Grian, Mumbo, Pearl, and Scar. My first publish fanfic since 2016 and my first hermitcraft fanfic :D ao3 link and some inspirations to be linked in a reblog

Words: 2862

•·················•·················•

"What if I touched it really quick?" Scar asked.

"No, don’t-don’t touch the egg," Grian said seriously. "Look, I even made a sign! It specifically says ‘Do not touch.’" He gestured to the sign in question, but Scar ignored him.

"Can I rub it?" he said. The man leaned over it, studying the object carefully. Grian hadn’t known where to place the egg when he got it, and it was just sitting on an anvil for the time being. He didn’t even have a starter house yet, but clearly he was going to need something soon if he was going to protect the egg from some of the more . . . mischievous residents of their Boatem village.

“No, don’t touch the egg! Scar-” Grian walked closer, hands outstretched, just in time to see Scar reach out with his hand and pat the egg.

Vworp!

The egg disappeared into thin air.

Dragon eggs had a tendency to do that. It was a survival tactic--Grian didn't really know how it worked, but just as endermen could teleport away from danger, so could the egg if it were touched. Now whether or not Scar was dangerous remained up for debate…

Scar giggled. "Oh, where did you go?" he sang, hunting around the area.

Well, he COULD be pretty scary sometimes.

"Scarrrr," Grian whined, helping him look. "I told you not to touch it!"

"It's over here!" Scar shouted, finding the egg at the bottom of a small slope nearby. "Just one more time…." He reached out again.

"No!" Grian said, slapping his hand away. "Look, you've got to pick it up the right way." He demonstrated, carefully lifting the egg and placing it in a pouch slung over his back. He had hurriedly stitched it together not too long ago, worried that transporting the egg normally might break it. “If you do it roughly, you’ll scare it and it’ll teleport away again.”

"I see!" said Scar.

"Now, please, don't touch the egg.”

"Oh," Scar said. He straightened. "You're really serious about this."

Grian glared. "I am."

"I'm sorry, I just thought it was funny!"

Grian sighed. "It's okay, Scar. It's just--this thing is a baby, it needs to be handled gently! You can't just go around scaring it! What if it falls into a hole or something?" he hissed.

"Oh my god," Scar laughed, "you're its mother now!"

"No, no, I'm not!"

"You are!" Scar cried. He suddenly stopped. "Oh no, didn't you kill its mother?"

"Well it doesn't know that!" Grian snapped. "Truthfully I didn't realize there would be an egg! And I couldn't just leave it, you know! Here, look at this." Grian gently withdrew the egg from its pack, and Scar moved closer. He held it up to the sun. "Look at that."

The sun shined dark red through the deep purple shell of the egg, making it glow within. In the middle, the silhouette of a curled up creature was illuminated. Blood vessels radiated outward, and at the bottom there was a blank space that Grian assumed was air. The egg’s shell was too thick for any detail to be made out, but the processes happening within were clear. Grian was enchanted with it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

"Wow," Scar breathed. "There's actually a dragon in there! What're you gonna do with it after it hatches?"

"Well, I haven't exactly thought that far--I just want to worry about keeping it safe first. I mean, what do you even do with this thing?" Grian put the egg back in its satchel, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I suppose you keep it warm and safe but, like, I don't know what else-"

"I could help!" Scar said.

"You were just playing with it!"

"Hey," Scar said defensively, "that was before I knew more about it!"

Grian rolled his eyes.

“What are you guys doing over here?” said Mumbo, wandering over. Grian just knew he’d been up to something, and sure enough, there was a new tree next to his little collection of chests. Grian wasn’t very bothered by it, because he already had a plan to get Mumbo back for it.

“Grian is just showing me his new baby!” Scar teased. “He’s a mom now.”

“I am NOT its mother,” replied Grian tiredly, but he smiled at the sight of the other man.

“A baby?” Mumbo asked, choosing to ignore the rest of Scar’s statement.

“A dragon egg,” Grian answered. “I found it in the End.” He paused for a moment, feeling almost bad. “After I killed the dragon.”

“Grian! You’ve orphaned it!” Mumbo sounded scandalized.

“Why do you all keep bringing that up!?” he defended, glancing between Mumbo and Scar, who both gave him disapproving, albeit playful, looks. “I know you’re Mr. Peace, Love and Plants this time, but we’ve always killed the dragon in every new world!”

“Well, I guess that’s true, but it is a little sad isn’t it? You’re taking care of it but only because you killed its mum.”

“Yeah,” was all Grian said. The dragon always needed to be taken care of in each new world they visited, and while it was always a bit of a shame, he’d never really contemplated it that much. After all, he normally wasn’t the one who fought it--that last time in Evo aside. He didn’t really know what he had gotten into but he felt deeply like he needed to protect this egg. It was like a tug in his chest, drawing him into the egg and telling him not to let go.

“Show him the egg!” Scar said.

“You just want to see it again,” Grian replied, but pulled the egg out of the satchel again anyway for Mumbo to see. The surface of the egg wasn’t smooth, like a chicken’s egg, but bumpy. The purple spots almost seemed to glow, and occasionally little violet particles drifted off of it. Grian felt like he could stare at it in awe all day, and apparently his friends felt the same.

“How’re you going to keep it warm?” asked Mumbo after a moment of admiring it. “That satchel isn’t going to be enough, and to be frank, I don’t see you spending any time sitting on it, even if the mental image is pretty funny.”

Grian rolled his eyes at the comment, but thought about it. How would he incubate it? He may have had wings, but he didn’t know anything about eggs, other than that it was a safe bet to assume it needed to be kept warm. “I'm not sure, actually.”

“Hey, let me design something for you!” Mumbo said excitedly. “I could probably use some redstone and make an incubator of some sort for you.”

Grian smiled. “I’d really appreciate that.”

Asking Mumbo to create a contraption for him--what could go wrong?

•·················•·················•

“I’m not wearing this thing, you know.” Grian said, holding the contraption while Mumbo wheezed with laughter in the background. The design that Mumbo had come up with was essentially a backpack with heating elements strung through it, except for one thing . . .

“You-you wear it in the front,” Mumbo choked out, wiping a tear from his eyes.

“Yes, I see that,” Grian replied, unamused.

“Like a swaddle!”

“Yes, I see that.”

Mumbo laughed harder. Grian had to begrudgingly admit that it was well designed, however. It would fit the egg perfectly, keep it warm, and most important it was mobile to ensure that he could take the egg with him. It was thoughtful, especially since Mumbo knew Grian was quite protective of it.

“I’m not wearing this thing,” Grian repeated. “I’m not going to let you all laugh at me while I walk around the server with an egg swaddled to me!”

“I thought you’d say that,” Mumbo chuckled. “Here, you can switch the straps around and turn it into a backpack.” He unclipped the straps and moved them into the new configuration.

“Thank you, Mumbo,” he said gratefully. “This will certainly do the trick.”

“Glad to hear it mate,” Mumbo replied. “Now, while you’re here, may I ask why there is an incredibly tall tree on top of my camper?”

“Sorry, got to go!” blurted Grian, snatching the backpack from Mumbo’s arms and flying off in a burst of feathers.

“That’s unfair, I don’t even have an elytra yet to go chase him down with,” muttered the man as he watched Grian disappear.

•·················•·················•

Grian sat in the grass in front of his starter home and rubbed his eyes wearily. He was exhausted. Is this how all parents feel? he wondered. Was he just uniquely unqualified to be one? After all, this was only an egg! It hadn’t even hatched yet and he was already tired of keeping up with it.

Carrying it in the backpack was heavy, and Grian tired out quickly. It was hot on his back, and Grian found himself having to take breaks to avoid overheating. It was also cumbersome, and he found it difficult to build with as it shifted his weight. He almost fell off the roof once while building it! Of course, having wings meant that Grian could catch himself easily, but it had still given him quite the scare. Dragon eggs were pretty sturdy, and would teleport themselves out of danger if possible, but he was still so paranoid about breaking it. And now there was the Boatem Hole to worry about--what if it teleported itself into the void? These things kept Grian awake at night.

But if he left it...well, just like Grian had a tendency to lose items in his chest monsters, he also had a tendency to forget where he placed things. He had been forced to go back and rescue the egg from some place he’d left it more than once, which he wasn’t exactly proud of. What sort of parent forgot their child?

. . . He was definitely not admitting to being its parent.

Oh God, what did I get myself into?

“Hey Grian, what’re you up to?” came a voice, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up and saw Pearl standing over him. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and her hands were in her hoodie pockets. She took a seat on the ground next to him, and followed his gaze overlooking the Boatem village. “What’s on your mind?”

“This--this egg,” said Grian. It sat next to him in its backpack, still radiating heat. “I don’t know what to do with it. I’m just so tired of carrying it around!”

“I have to admit,” Pearl said, “I didn’t expect you to immediately adopt a baby dragon the very next time I saw you.”

“Yeah, well, it was an accident.” Grian groaned. “I don’t know what to do with it now, let alone when it hatches!”

Pearl thought for a moment. “You know, the rest of us are all here for you. The other hermits would be happy to help out, I’m sure.”

The other hermits . . . well of course they would. If it was one thing they were all good at, it was supporting each other. Scar had already taken a particular interest in the egg, although Grian was still a little suspicious of him scaring it again. Mumbo had specially designed an incubator for it. Pearl was visiting him to check up on him and offer help.

All Grian had to do was convince himself to let it go. To let them help.

“I know that but . . .”

“But what? Have you had any reason to believe they wouldn’t?” Pearl asked.

“Well, no.” He thought for a while. He thought of how his friends would lend materials when needed, or how they’d help replace someone’s armor and items if they were lost. He thought about the days where they all teamed up and chose one hermit to help out, and he thought about all the things they did for the good of the entire community without even being asked.

His desire to protect the egg was strong, and putting it into the hands of another person almost felt like simultaneously a betrayal of the egg itself and the biggest leap of faith he could take. But the hermits were good at leaps of faith, because someone was always there to catch you.

“You think it’d be okay?”

“I know it’ll be okay,” Pearl replied. “I haven’t been here very long but from what I’ve seen, I know they’d all help. They wouldn’t hurt it. They might be a little mischievous sometimes,” she said, glancing at Scar’s house, “but they know how important it is and would be happy to help. They helped you before, didn’t they?”

Pearl was right, of course. Nobody on the server had any desire to hurt the egg. He trusted that. If there was anyone that he could trust, it was them.

But how would he get them all to essentially sign up for babysitting?

An idea struck him, and Grian scrambled to his feet. “Pearl, you’re brilliant. Thank you!”

She blinked, a little startled. “Always happy to help.”

•·················•·················•

Grian stood back, admiring his work. A near perfect duplicate of the egg that was currently sitting in the backpack slung around his shoulder, but at a much larger scale. It was built out of obsidian blocks and crying obsidian for the spots, and if Grian was pretty proud of how it looked.

If Grian knew anything, it was that his friends loved minigames. And Grian was not above gently exploiting that fact to get a little help--just like barge game from the last world, where he managed to get his friends to help mine out the stone from next to his mansion. Just slap the title of “game” on something and you could get a hermit to sign up for anything.

“Now . . . I just have to write the signs on the inside.”

The game Grian had come up with was officially called Tegg--he needed to stay on brand with his tag games in every world--but he’d mentally been calling it “The Babysitting Game” for a while now. Because that’s what it really was--each hermit who signed up would also sign up to watch the egg and keep it safe. He set to work outlining the rules.

RULE ONE: Protect the egg and keep it safe.

RULE TWO: Keep the egg incubated or it’ll die.

RULE THREE: Keep a close eye on the egg.

RULE FOUR: Call Grian if it starts to hatch.

Satisfied, he wrote out the rest of the instructions. Because it was a game, he wanted to make it fun for the hermits too, so he’d decided to make it like a scavenger hunt. People were allowed to take the egg, provided they adhered to the rules, and were encouraged to hide it and keep it safe. Otherwise, someone else who wanted to have it could get it. The safer the egg was, the less likely for someone else to find it. The winner was whoever had the egg the longest when it finally hatched. Grian didn’t know how long that would take, but he didn’t want to miss it either, hence rule four.

Yep, totally outsourcing his babysitting onto his friends.

Grian squinted at his wall of signs, before placing one final sign at the bottom: Grian will track the game and has final say on points and rules!

“That should do it,” he mumbled. He still wanted to keep an eye on the egg, to make sure that he knew who had it and how many people’s hands it had gone through. After all, he was the one ultimately responsible for it.

Grian pulled the egg out of the backpack and carefully placed it on the ground. He’d somehow made a habit of just speaking to it every now and then--he had no idea if the little dragon could hear anything in there, but he liked to think that it could. “Hey there,” he whispered, and stroked the top of the egg. “Some new people are going to start taking you pretty soon, but it’s okay. They’re going to give me some help and make sure you’re safe.”

He paused, taking in the little room he’d made and the wall of signs he’d written with meticulous instructions for the egg’s care. It may have been the first thing he’d built for this egg, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be his last. A baby dragon was a commitment and for the first time Grian really let himself think about what that meant, beyond just an egg that he had to carry around. Would he house it? Train it? Let it stay by his side? Would he love it?

I think I already do, he thought.

He thought of the hermits--their mischievousness, their pranks, their hard work, their friendship, and their goodness at heart. They were his family, now. What was one more addition?

“It’s okay,” he whispered to the egg. “I trust them all with my life, but more importantly, I trust them with yours.”

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft fanfic #quara fanfic

[writing-in-april]

Poker Face

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Reader thought she could get away with speaking her desires out loud as long as they were in a different language. Turns out, someone could understand her.

A/N: Hey guys! This is my fourth fic for my 1250 follower celebration!! I got this request from @imagining-in-the-margins and if you want to see the original request go checkout my follower celebration Masterlist! I do not speak Russian, nor do I know someone who does so I made everything in italics as if they were speaking in Russian! Hope y’all enjoy reading and requests are open!

Warnings: 18+, Public sex (who’s surprised lmao), Reader is very unprofessional and probably should be fired lmao, Dom Spencer with hints of Sub Spencer in the future (dont worry all my Sub Spencer lovers I’ve got more coming for that soon!), Nickname use: Princess, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral sex (M receiving),Creampie

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.1k

Words in italics are in Russian

There was no harm in voicing my thoughts I thought to myself, in a different language, Russian specifically. Especially since the only one that could understand me wasn’t near me at the moment nor would she probably bat an eye at a slightly risqué remark. Emily was snuggled up at the other end of the jet, her headphones in both of her ears. They would plug up any sound around her preventing her from translating the lusty thought that sat on my lips.

If I said my thoughts in Russian, no one would be able to catch how much I wanted Spencer’s fingers inside me. They were long, obviously dexterous- I knew they’d be able to reach places inside me that I couldn’t reach myself. I couldn’t say these thoughts out loud, in English at least,

I didn’t want Spencer to ever know. But, I wanted to get the thoughts swirling in my head off my chest, the only way to do that without embarrassment was to say it in a way that no one here would be able to understand.

As Spencer shuffled with ease and delt the cards out with his dexterous fingers my lusty thoughts were too pressing for my lips to be able to contain. So I spoke quickly with my voice slightly lowered, maybe Spencer and the people around me would miss my transition into a different language, “I wished you would use those fingers on me instead, preferably inside of me.”

Spencer blinked back at me, obviously confused by my words.

“Sorry, just spaced out for a second, didn’t realize I had switched to Russian.” I giggled out, mostly because I was amazed that I had gotten away with it. I moved on quickly not wanting to linger on my ‘slip up’ any longer, plus I finally wanted to try and play against Spencer in a poker game, “Let’s see if your poker face is as good as everyone says it is, Spencer.”

—-

“Please, fuck me?” Over the course of my daring adventures I had become increasingly louder with my declarations. Last week I had commented about how much I wanted his cock in my mouth, of course in Russian and the week before that I had made my initial comment about how much I wanted his fingers inside me.

This one happened to be the loudest out of the three little sentences that seemed like innocent slips into another language to everyone else, but to me and only to me I was voicing my desires. Each time I did it a little rush of adrenaline sparked through me, no one besides Emily would be able to translate, who wasn’t with me in the file room. It was only Spencer and I in here right now, the rest of the team had gone home for the night.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do that at the office, but if you asked me again somewhere else I’d do it.” He answered me back and in perfect Russian as well.

My entire being withered in embarrassment as soon as I had translated Spencer’s words, he understood me. He had understood all of what I had said, every last word. I should’ve remembered that he spoke Russian, we had a case where he spent the whole time translating, I couldn’t believe how idiotic I had been. I wanted the earth to swallow me up in that moment, just so I could escape Spencer’s piercing gaze. I couldn’t tell from his words or the look on his face what exactly he was feeling about my words, some profiler I was. He didn’t seem angry at least, maybe a bit bemused?

I shrank back a little more over fear if he was making fun of me or not. If I hadn’t been feeling so mortified I would’ve realized that Spencer wasn’t one to make fun of anyone, hindsight is 20/20 after all.

“Your poker face is spot on.” Was the only measly response that I could find myself to come up with, in an attempt to cover my embarrassment if only a little bit. A bunch of apologies also felt like they were crawling up my throat. I was absolutely mortified that I had been caught red handed, it was beyond unprofessional- I don’t think there was even a word for it. I had crossed the line so far I might as well have leaped over it, forgetting that it had ever existed.

“Well- I am from Vegas and before you start apologizing, you don’t need to. I liked it.”

Silence fell between us again after his smart remark. It was like we were sizing each other up, deciding what to do.

“You know- there’s no one here tonight, everyone’s gone home…” My confidence seemingly had come back after being knocked down a few pegs. I tapped my fingers absentmindedly on the large desk in the file room, my mind wandering to think about what it would be like if he bent me over it.

“That’s true.” A smirk was on his face now, one that I didn’t see often from him. I felt like I was going to be ensnared by him as soon as I took the time to blink.

Sure enough in a flash he had brought me into a bruising kiss that I got swallowed up by so fast there was no chance for me to try and win back any dominance.

In no time he had me bent over the table, my face pressed into the cool silver metal with my back arching up trying to reach his touch in any way I could. He gripped the waistband of my skirt roughly, but did not pull it down right away. He pulled my skirt down ever so slowly that by the time it reached the floor I impatiently wiggled to step out of it.

“You’re impatient.” He stated simply. I couldn’t deny it because of how true it was, all he’d have to do was pull my black lace panties off to see how wet I had become.

Instead I decided to lean in on how needy and impatient I was by whining out, “Spencerrr, please?”

“What do you want? Is it the same thing you said to me on the plane?” He pressed a kiss to my hip as he pulled down my panties just as slowly as he had done with my skirt, making me squirm again. Once I was bare from the waist down before him he paused for a moment to look at me; I withered a little under his gaze. I whined again when he carefully took his long fingers to just slightly part my folds before speaking again, “Tell me.”

I hesitated a little for a moment trying to focus to remember exactly what I had said on the plane. When I had collected my thoughts I whispered out in Russian, much more shaky than I had said on the plane, “I wished you would use those fingers on me instead, preferably inside of me.”

He was seemingly satisfied by my breathless reply, immediately beginning to work me up to orgasm. As he started to work his fingers inside of me he pressed his other hand down on the small of my back, a silent warning to not move.

I contemplated disobeying him, but when two of his fingers curled inside me to perfectly hit my g-spot it felt too good to lose.

“You gonna cum so quick for me, princess?” I got even wetter when he said princess like that, in Russian made me get even wetter than I already was. I was practically dripping down my thighs- and Spencer’s fingers.

“Yes! I’m gonna cum soon!” I gasped out and tried in vain to wriggle my hips to gain more friction, his hand on my back however was unyielding.

“Ask nicely and I might let you.”

“Please?!” I even asked it in Russian to make the plea possibly better in Spencer’s eyes. He didn’t respond right away, only picking up his pace faster. I tried to hold off my orgasm as best as I could, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be able to hold it. “Please, sir?”

“Alright, since you asked so nicely. You can cum, princess.”

I gave up the fight of holding off my orgasm, it immediately washed over me. My legs shook with the force of how hard and fast my orgasm shot through me, causing me to cry out as well.

Once I had come down from my high I slid off the table and down to my knees to repeat what I had said while at the round table a week ago “I want your cock in my mouth.”

He looked at me with wild eyes and obliged me, letting his cock free from his slacks. My mouth watered at the sight of him, his tip was bright red and dripping with precum. He had obviously not been the only one to be turned on.

As I grasped him in my hands and jerked him slowly I relished in the way he felt in my hand. He felt hot and heavy, I couldn’t wait to take him into my mouth.

I wrapped my lips around his tip, sucking lightly. Spencer’s head tipped backwards, his hands curled into fists as if he was trying to prevent himself from grabbing my hair to fuck my face. Little did he know that was exactly what I wanted.

When I guided one of his hands to the back of my hair to reassure him that I didn’t mind if he took control that way he almost let out a groan, but successfully stifled it by biting into his other fist. He then fisted my hair harder, wrapping his hand around so tight that tears prickled a bit in my eyes. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all, I enjoyed it.

I enjoyed it even more when he started to use his hand to guide my head up and down. He set the pace to the one he desired. It wasn’t too fast or hard, it was actually quite slow. He dragged out each of my movements and when my nose nuzzled at the base of his cock he had me stay there for a moment each time. Each time I gagged a little on him he let out an almost whine, it made me wonder whether or not he’d look good underneath me as well. Though I was thoroughly content with being underneath him at this time.

Even though I had already had one orgasm the tingling between my thighs was not satiated, looking up at Spencer’s blissed out face only served to make me even more turned on.

“Stop.” I blinked up at him like he had done so at me on the jet, confused. I pulled off of his cock, a slight pop echoed in the air. He then lifted me up onto the table with my legs wrapped around his waist before I could ask him why he wanted for me to stop.

“Now what was that last thing you said to me? I want you to ask me again. ” His cock was running up and down my folds teasing me. My head fell back and I moaned when he bumped my clit.

“Please, fuck me?” My breathless voice sounded wrecked already.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” As he slid into me my eyes rolled back into my head as he slid into me. His pace was faster this time than what he had done while fucking my face. I was squirming with overstimulation and my orgasm was going to come ridiculously fast. Spencer could sense it too and brought his hand down to my clit to bring me over my peak even faster.

“You can cum again, princess.” My second orgasm was much longer than my first. It sparked through me slowly, almost in waves that felt like they had multiple peaks.

He too, was not that far behind me. When he tried to pull out to probably cum all over the tops of my thighs I kept him locked in place with my legs around my waist and asked, “Cum inside me?”

He obliged me with a groan pumping into me a few more times before spilling inside me. We were both slick with sweat, making me wish for a shower. As soon as I got cleaned up that would be the first thing I’d be doing when I bolted home. Maybe I could bring Spencer along for another round, I could hear him speak Russian to me all day.

“I’ll go get something to clean you up.” He spoke softly as if he was afraid I’d break, you’d think after the way he had fucked me that he’d realized I was not so breakable. I’d have to fix that later. As I sat there with his cum dribbling down my thighs waiting for him to return , mixing with my own I knew that I’d never underestimate Spencer’s poker face again.

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

Dom Spencer:

@rainsong01

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #1250 follower celebration #1250 followers

[actualsaii]

the bet

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 15k

Genre: smut, comedy, university AU

Summary:  You lost a bet and now it’s time to face the consequences. Aka when you lose and now you have to get a tattoo.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140211

I'm reposting this one in case it's more comfortable for the readers to use tumblr instead of AO3 :) 

“I can’t believe they made me do it,” you murmured under your nose as you passed the street, knowing that your friends still sat in the car parked in the lot across the street with eyes pinned on your nervous figure. The closer you got to the two-story building, the stronger the crippling anxiety inside of you grew, causing your inners to shake under the heavy consequences of your Thursday night’s escapade that culminated into your worst nightmare.

Yes, everything started two nights ago in a shabby university bar that you grew so fond of during the past two years of your studies. It was always packed whether it was a school night or not, full of freshmen and also seniors, from time to time even postgraduate students that seemed to be only a myth to you as you’ve almost never met one outside the classes. However, neither of that mattered that night as you successfully finished your last exam and decided to hit the streets with your two best friends that carefully prepared the night to its tiniest details. Conspiracy was the first word that popped in your mind as the night continued to unfold her secrets, although it was quickly erased with the fifth shot of tequila after which you simply found yourself walking straight to the bar with one and only thing your friends managed to set your mind on.

The hot bartender, also a member of mythical postgraduate group, was your main target even though he was currently busy with lining the glasses of RedBull next to each other while smaller shot cups full of golden liquid, you somewhere in the back of your mind recalled was probably Jägermeister, balanced on the tips of the bigger glasses under. Each of his move was precise, yet you knew this wasn’t the first Jäger-train he had built. The man worked at this bar ever since you could remember - and you also recalled the moment he stepped into your first class of Forensic psychology, looking completely different than you saw him the previous night (which was your first time visiting the bar when you were a freshman) in the club. Just then one of your friends told you he was a postgraduate student who worked at the bar and also taught some classes because of his final research paper. And now he was here again, his longish black hair carefully slicked back, exposing the undercut that made him look like a bad boy. His eyes momentarily flickered up from his work and once they laid on you, smirk flashed through his features and he straightened his posture, done with what he was doing.

“Look who we have here on a school night. Isn’t it a little bit too late for you to be out, ___?” he tilted his head to the side, never allowing the smile to disappear from his handsome features. He was famous for many things, but the nickname he used really preceded his name - Worldwide Handsome.

“Kim Seokjin, nice and friendly as always. Not that it should concern you, but I’m successfully done with all of my exams; so tonight, I’m celebrating. And I’m also on mission,” you leaned closer to him, almost knocking the train made of multiple glasses of alcohol, however you couldn’t care less. There was only one thing on your mind - and you know your friends were watching you somewhere from the booth in the back of the bar. At least they tried because your mind wasn’t the only one clouded by alcohol and a stupid bet you nodded to extremely fast and without giving it a thought or two first.

“So, mission it is tonight. Anyway, congratulations to wrapping up the term. Now, is there something I can do for you? Because, as you can see, it’s Thursday night, and the place is already bursting. Also, my masterpiece is ready for the show,” he said, reaching for the empty shot cup, ready to put the train on move. Your eyes flickered from his to the said masterpiece and you chuckled. Of course, there was something he could do for you but you didn’t want to burst it out loud just like that, not when the place was crowded and you felt countless eyes pinned on you because you occupied the spot by the bar for longer than acceptable.

But then again, you were on the mission and that was more important than some impatient freshmen that expected to put their hands on one of the glasses of Jägerbomb Seokjin has just put on the move. He gently nudged the first shot sitting on the rim of the glass and watched with his eyes full of excitement how the following shot cups fell down like a domino. People around you cheered loudly and suddenly they started grabbing glasses one after another until there was just one left. In a moment you decided to snatch it for yourself, your fingers met with another long and slender ones, covered in black ink and shiny silver rings. Looking up, you realized the crowd of people was gone, scattered all over the place and dance floor while only a few people remained lingering around the bar area. And the man, who was about to steal the drink you set your eyes on, was now staring at you with a smirk that mirrored in his deep and dark eyes. Long strands of his wavy blonde hair fell into his face but he quickly pushed them back, yet he took an advantage of the moment of surprise and snatched the drink before you had enough time to say something.

“Too late, love,” he shrugged and quickly disappeared in the crowd of people, only his blonde hair shining like a beacon, eventually disappearing as well. You turned to Seokjin with lips formed in a shape of a small ‘o’, still processing what has just happened. The bartender smirked and started lining another train of glasses on the surface of the bar, this time with a different type of drink on his mind.

“What was that? Who was that guy?” you asked, momentarily confused but you quickly shook it off your shoulders like an invisible layer of dust. You had to succeed with your mission, some blonde guy stealing the drink you wanted for yourself was out of the question at the moment.

“That was Jeon Jungkook, no one you should care about. Now, what can I offer you, ___? Or are you going to just levitate around until you are brave enough to spill the tea? Because one of your friends is peeking from the booth like a chicken hidden in the bush. What is it that you want?” with those words, he leaned closer over the bar surface and you felt his hot breath hitting your face. And even though your senses were already covered by the heavy sheet made out of tequila and god knew what else, you still felt cigarettes and scotch in his breath, the favorite combination of his when he was working.

You chewed on your lower lip while the wheels in the back of your mind spun like crazy, contemplating whether to come out with your plan or just kept playing your little game of a spy on the mission - even though Kim Seokjin could see straight through you as if you were a thin piece of a transparent paper. So, with a heavy sigh, you smashed your palms against the bar in a dramatic gesture, looking him straight into his eyes. If someone was looking at you, and you were sure there was at least one person watching you besides your friends, they must have thought you were some kind of Seokjin’s crazy fangirl. Which wouldn’t be surprising since the man was quite famous at the university.

“I need Jimin’s number.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m serious, Seokjin. I need Jimin’s number otherwise I’m in a very big trouble. You have to save my ass,” you basically begged him, now almost laying on the bar as you leaned closer to him. The black-haired bartender only shook his head no and gave you a look somewhere between ‘I like you, you are my friend, but I can’t help you’ and ‘someone please just kill me already before I strangle this girl first’.

“I’m sorry but if you want Jimin number, you have to ask yourself. And since I know the number is not for you, you should tell your friend to man the hell up and ask him herself. He doesn’t bite, you know. Well, at least I think he doesn’t,” he shook his head again and handed you a shot of tequila he managed to pour you while he was talking. Small pout formed on your lips and you tried really hard to pull out the most innocent look on your face, but such a witchcraft had none effect on Kim Seokjin.

“You don’t understand - I promised my friend I would get the number for her. We placed a bet and if I lose… Seokjin, I can’t lose! Of my fucking god, I can’t lose this one. That would be the end of me.”

Something in his face shifted and now he looked genuinely interested in your little mission. A tiny spark of hope lit up in your chest when his eyes softened and he turned to you again.

“What’s the bet about?”

You felt the heat creeping into your cheeks each second of standing by the bar, your eyes now pinned on your hands still placed on its surface. The shot laid untouched in front of you even though you felt your mouth watering just by watching it. And although the level of alcohol in your bloodstream was already dangerously high, you reached out for it and downed the shot in one gulp. Just in case you needed some more courage.

“If I don’t get Jimin’s number tonight, I will have to get a tattoo by the end of the week. So, please, you have to save my ass, Seokjin. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want that tattoo, I’ve wanted it for some time already, but I’m still not sure and—“

“You got to be kidding me, ___. This is the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard,” the almost caring look in his face was quickly replaced by his notorious smug smirk and you knew you were fucked for the night. There was no way he was about to give you Jimin’s number, and walking around the bar, asking random strangers for Park Jimin’s number was out of question.

“I will never forget your betrayal, Kim Seokjin. I will never forget how you turned your back on me. And if you come to me asking for help, I will repay you the same,” your index finger touched his chest and while you were sure you looked dangerous and almost and vengeful, Seokjin just chuckled and sent you one of his precious flying kisses.

“Duly noted, sweetheart. Don’t forget to send me a photo of your new tattoo. I will be waiting.”

And just like that, with his words still echoing through your mind, you showed him your tongue and waltzed back to the table where your friends were sitting.

Of course, without Park Jimin’s number.

And the threat of getting a tattoo dangerously hanging above your head.

“I can’t believe they made me do it.”

It was Saturday morning and the betrayal of Kim Seokjin and the following cheering sounds of your friends still rang through your mind like an annoying sound of the alarm clock set on the phone. You weren’t about to get away with new pledges and promises of getting Park Jimin’s number because your friends simply weren’t about to let you. No, a deal was a deal and now that you lost the bet, you had to get that tattoo from the artist in a parlor downtown. It was a new one and judging by what Sunmi told you a few days ago, they only opened the salon three months ago. However, the number of followers on social network sites grew higher and higher each day so you and your friends agreed it was a good place to get your first tattoo.

Although you weren’t so sure now that you were crossing the street with a paper cup of coffee in your hands. It was an olive branch from your friends when they picked you up at the dorms early in the morning, proposing the breakfast at your favorite café near the university’s main campus. At least something to ease your mind before taking such a huge step forward.

You took a deep breath and looked over your shoulder one last time, checking if those two creatures that came straight from the hell still sat in the car parked in the lot. And of course, they were still there, sending you thumbs up as if to give you a courage to step inside and get that goddamn tattoo. Thinking about that, it was all your fault because you were talking about getting one for a while, so it was only natural your friends took advantage of your big mouth and used it as a weapon against you. Although, you had to admit the smoothness they turned the bet into.

“Why am I even friends with you?” you muttered under your nose and took a sip of the coffee before you reached for the doorknob and pressed it, opening the door with a sound of ring bell accompanying your gesture. You peeked inside - and your inners immediately turned upside down with the scene that unfolded in front of your eyes. Not to mention you almost dropped the paper cup with coffee.

The studio itself looked neat and clean, shiny almost as each piece of furniture and accessory seemed brand new. Right opposite the front door sat a massive black desk with an office chair and a laptop placed on the top. But besides the PC, there was a small plant and an opened sketchbook with a picture you couldn’t see properly because you stood too far away. Not that you wanted to peek inside, not really. The wall behind the table was pitch black with a few modern art pieces and shelves full of books standing there. The remaining three walls were covered in various pieces of paper showing different tattoo motives that were apparently free for customers to choose. But that wasn’t what knocked the air out of your lungs and almost made you change your decision with backing the hell out of the studio, no. What made you almost squeal were two men half hidden behind the paravan that covered the tattooing area from the common area with two black leather sofas and a small coffee table. Even though you couldn’t see their faces properly, you exactly knew who they were. And the fact that one of them was indirectly responsible for you getting in this quite unfortunate situation made your blood boil.

“Park Jimin?”

Both of them immediately snapped in your direction while the said man rolled down his shirt and patted the blonde’s shoulder with a grateful smile curling the corners of his lips up. The blonde one only nodded but once his eyes met yours, there was something wicked mirroring behind his irises - and you were quickly reminded of the Thursday’s night and the talk you had with Seokjin after he successfully made the Jäger-train work. The blonde man was the one who stole your drink. The one who ever so shamelessly snatched it right out of your hands and walked away as if nothing had happened. You clearly remembered the wave of drunken rage that almost swept you off your feet the night it happened - the drink was supposed to be yours, not his. Either way, that fact only added to the moment of surprise you went through the second you realized the tattoo artist was no one else but the blonde thief with arms covered in ink.

“Oh, hi? You are the one from Seokjin’s Forensic Psychology class, right? ___? What are you doing here?” Jimin asked and at that moment, you felt like the dumbest dumbass walking the planet earth. What were you doing here? Oh, yes. The lost bet and the punishment you had to accept according to the terms of the deal. However, that wasn’t something you could come clean about since it would make you look like an… idiot. Complete idiot. So, instead of giving him an answer, your eyes flickered to the direction of the blonde tattoo artists who was now in the process of getting rid of the black latex gloves, throwing them into a trash bin. And as if he felt the weight of your eyes heaving him down, he looked at you with a slight hint of smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. He too seemed to be interested in your answer.

“Yep, that’s me. And to answer your question - I’m here to get a tattoo. I guess that’s what tattoo salons are for?” you tilted your head to the side and gave both males your best smile without being nervous about it.

“Do you have an appointment?” the blonde asked and approached the table where the sketchbook and other notebooks laid. As soon as his question sunk in the air filling the room, you cleared your throat and realized that, perhaps, you should have called beforehand, although this whole situation came into an existence during your Thursday night’s pre-game when you were already intoxicated and so determined to get Jimin’s number no matter what consequences might come out in case you simply failed.

Exactly like you did.

And it brought you here.

Silence fell over the room and for a split second, your brain came up with an idea of asking Jimin for his number and immediately backing away from the previous plan, but then, on the other hand, you weren’t about to chicken out of your punishment. You were too proud to do so.

“No, I don’t think so,” you smiled again, wishing for the mother earth to swallow you and spit you out on the other side of the world since the weight of the look in their eyes grew heavier and heavier each second that passed. They must have thought you were an idiot waltzing into a tattoo salon without an appointment on Saturday morning. Because who would have done that? No one but a psychology student who lost the bet and was now facing its consequences.

“Well, then I guess I will just leave you two alone. Lucky you, Jungkook was supposed to have a day off since it’s Saturday, but as I know him, he wouldn’t say no to a nice young lady, would he?” Jimin smirked and before Jungkook had the opportunity to throw the notebook in his direction, the brown-haired guy grabbed his jacket and disappeared from the salon at the speed of light.

And that made you feel bit anxious because right at the moment, it was just you and the tattoo artist Jungkook who managed to steal your drink, which, for some reason, couldn’t let you cold. The small and tiny voice in the back of your mind told you he must have been a member of the mythical postgraduate students’ group as well, but you weren’t stupid to voice your question out loud. You were just frozen in one place with lips forming a shape of a small ‘o’, unable to put together a rather coherent sentence to explain how you got into such a situation. Not that he should know each detail, but then again, he was the artist and according to Jimin’s words, he was supposed to have a day off until you came, and, well, obviously changed his plans.

Again, according to Jimin’s words.

“If you have a day off, I can come another time. Or I can book an appointment and—“

“It’s ____, right? I’m Jeon Jungkook, nice to meet you. Anyway, it’s fine. Jimin wasn’t on my list either when he came banging on the door early in the morning. One more tattoo wouldn’t kill me, really. I don’t have much to do, anyway,” his voice dropped a few tones lower and it genuinely surprised you how quickly he agreed on something that wasn’t on his schedule, therefore wasn’t supposed to happen. Honestly, you expected him to throw you out of the salon with the same sassy smirk and comment he addressed you with the night you met him at the bar. But nothing like that happened and you suddenly felt the inner storm gaining the momentum, throwing you off balance easily. And maybe, that was the reason you kept standing in one spot with lips still half-parted, staring at the young man standing in front of you with a smile plastered over his features. The smile first seemed to be innocent, reaching his eyes but mirroring something not so innocent any longer as the question slipped his lips. “Did you have fun with your friends?”

Wheezing noise came out of you and he raised his brows in unspoken question.

“I’d rather not talk about that night, really,” you rolled your eyes and bit on your inner cheek as the memory of the night came to you as a wrecking ball.

“Had too much to drink? You should be glad I managed to put my hands on the drink before you did then,” his innocent smile quickly turned into a smug one, reminding you of the way Seokjin basically laughed in your face when he found out about the bet. And since the bartender seemed to be familiar with the blonde tattoo artists, there was this one certain question that popped on your mind like a red light. Was it possible Seokjin told Jungkook about the bet? Did he out you?

No, Seokjin wouldn’t do that. He might have not helped you with getting Jimin’s number, but he certainly wouldn’t do something like blabbering about the bet to his friends who had nothing to do with that. Until now.

“About that - it was my drink, I had my eyes on that first,” you murmured but couldn’t help when the smile tugged on the corner of your lips. Fighting about something so trivial like a drink wasn’t really your thing, yet, for some reason you felt like this business needed to be taken care of.

“Then you should have been faster, love. Now, tell me about that tattoo of yours you want to get. Do you have something on your mind or am I free to come up with a design?” he asked, quickly shifting into his artist mode. He wasn’t really curious about the reason you ended up in his studio, nor he blamed you for barging in like Jimin did in the morning. He simply wanted to start to work, that was all. And you had to admit, it once again stole the wind from under your wings and left you standing there frozen in one place with lips parted but no words leaving them. A wave of admiration towards the young man that dedicated his free time to grace the skin of other people woke up inside of you and brought the butterflies in your stomach to life.

As the question settled in, your mind was suddenly blank like a fresh canvas, not a simple idea crossing it. Your loss of words made him chuckle before he turned to his table and reached for yet another sketchbook laying there. The sound of pages flipping filled the room, accompanied by Jungkook’s soft humming until he found what he was looking for.

“What do you think about this? It’s a free design I made a few days ago but I was too busy to put in on the wall. It looks like something that might suit you. Of course, it’s just my opinion,” with those words he handed you the sketchbook opened on a page with the design he had on mind for you. And you had to admit, it was beautiful. A simple line of flowers tangled together, nothing too exaggerating, quite the right opposite. However, you couldn’t quite grasp the concept of place where he wanted to put it.

“It looks really beautiful, and now I will probably sound too stupid, but where do you want to put it?” you asked, genuinely interested in his answer. Of course, he must have had an idea of where to place it once he was working on it. Your question brought a smile to his face as he came closer and gently grabbed the sketchbook from your hands. He put it back on the table while his right hand remained cuffing your left wrist.

“Here, around your wrist like a bracelet while the rest of the tattoo will continue to the back of your hand. Exactly here,” his fingers traced a delicate way from your wrist to the back of your hand, leaving a burning trace behind. Breath almost hitched in your throat when you realized how close he got to you without you realizing it, however, you quickly collected yourself and fixed your posture, looking into his dark eyes. “It’s your first tattoo and I believe I don’t have to tell you how important it is for you to choose the right place. Consider this a friendly opinion of mine. It would really suit you, ___.”

Just as he finished his little speech, his touch left your hand, yet the burning sensation remained lingering over the surface of your skin.

“That sounds like a really lovely idea,” you murmured as you brought your hand closer to your face, examining the place he traced with his fingers just seconds ago. As much as you weren’t excited about the idea of getting a tattoo this fast, although you’ve always wanted one, you started changing your mind in a snap of fingers. And whether it was the picture you really liked or Jungkook’s aura that was only hard to resist, you didn’t know. What you were sure about was the one and only thing - you weren’t about to back away from this decision. Not anymore.

You were surprised by yourself and the sudden discovery you missed the way Jungkook chuckled and shook his head over your strange behavior.

“Are you sure about that? Because I don’t really want you to chase me down the university halls in case you don’t like it anymore, you know? Tattoo is mostly a permanent thing and let me tell you, it’s really painful if you want to get rid of that. Not to mention it’s almost twice as expensive. Think about it, love,” it almost sounded like he tried to change your mind, and honestly, you felt like a child getting a lecture. Which you didn’t like at all.

“Of course, I’m sure. I wouldn’t be here in the first place if I wasn’t. I’ve wanted a tattoo for a very long time, I just didn’t give it a proper thought - as of what to get and where to place it. I was hoping that since you are a pro—you could help me out with that. Which you did, so…” you shrugged, giving him a look full of confidence. At least, you hoped you did. And as to seal your words, you took a step closer to him with a smile gracing your features. “So, can we do it today?”

Smirk flashed through his features and mirrored in his eyes.

“Of course, love.”

Jungkook put everything into motion rather smoothly and you had to admire the way he basically danced around the salon while he prepared everything he was about to need for your tattoo. From time to time, your eyes flickered to the already prepared design laying on the small table near the tattooing chair you were aiming for. Excitement rushed through your bloodstream just when you imagined the art on your hand. Funny, how everything changed in a snap of fingers and your annoyed mood was quickly replaced by the excitement in the form of butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

“Do you mind if I play some music?” he asked with his back turned to you as he did some last preparations for your tattoo.

“Not at all. It’s your place, play whatever you want,” you shook your head and shrugged down the leather jacket you were wearing. The room was hot and you shouldn’t be wearing it anyway, so you took it off and climbed into the chair, waiting rather impatiently for the blonde artist to be done with his little preparations. The soft tunes of hip-hop music filled the air and you had to smile. For some reason, even though you didn’t know him at all, the music suited Jungkook very much. It went along the aura his persona gave off, almost hand in hand.

“What is that? I’ve never heard this song,” you asked curiously as you made yourself comfortable in the chair, leaning against the leather surface with the butterflies still playing the game of catch in your stomach. Have you really been that excited about getting that goddamn tattoo? Or was Jeon Jungkook responsible for the weird excitement you haven’t seen coming once you stepped out of your friend’s car? Such questions popped in your mind and you had to sigh in defeat as you didn’t have a single answer.

The way your question captured his attention and the way he turned to you with eyes sliding up and down your body in the tattooing chair certainly didn’t help to calm the storm inside of you.

“Do you know Jung Hoseok? He is one of the postgraduates, but other than studying, he likes to work on music. This is one of the songs he released within his mixtape a few weeks ago. It’s only on SoundCloud, so I don’t blame you for now knowing it, but you should give it a try. He is really good,” Jungkook smiled as he was apparently praising one of his good friends, reaching for the box of latex gloves to put a clean pair on. The gesture itself told you he was ready to start working on your design.

“Not only you are a mythical group everyone is talking about, but it seems like all of you have that hidden side no one knows about - well, besides Seokjin. Everyone knows he is the most handsome bartender. I guess he is the reason why the bar is still so packed. But hey, I will give that mixtape a shot. It sounds catchy,” you wondered out loud without giving your words a thought or two. Yet, it has already escaped your mouth and you couldn’t do anything about it. And when Jungkook chuckled, you only hoped he didn’t think you were a complete weirdo.

“Is that so? I’ve never heard anyone calling us a mythical group but I can see the point. It’s just we are always busy with the university and when there’s a slight chance to do whatever else than the research for doctoral thesis, we simply do what we love to do - and it differs from person to person. For me, it’s the salon and the art of tattoo. Although it mostly belongs to my older brother, every time I’m free from uni, I spend my time here,” he was open with you and it almost made your heart melt because even though he didn’t know you properly, he talked to you about the daily basis of his life as if you two were old friends. Plus, his words convinced you he didn’t think of you as a weirdo, which was definitely a very good sign. “I’m sure there’s something you love to do too.”

That made you wonder. There were many things you enjoyed doing, but suddenly, none of them came to your mind as Jungkook kept staring at you, probably waiting for the answer. Your brain worked faster than on the university entrance exam, yet the more pressure you put on that poor thing, the more alert it seemed to be.

“Honestly, I’m glad when I have a weekend off. This is my second year on the university and keeping my shit together is getting harder and harder. But well, there was this period of time when I enjoyed doing Yoga almost every day. Currently it’s just reading books and listening to music. Now you are going to think I’m one of those boring people who like to stay inside instead of partying with a large group of friends,” you decided to be honest with him because there was nothing left to lose. Also, why not being honest with someone who decided to sacrifice his own free time in spite of giving you tattoo?

“Why would I think you are boring? I love being by myself with a good book or a good movie on Netflix. However, I also like to go out with my friends from time to time. And I bet you do, too,” the teasing smirk was back on his lips, although it didn’t last long as he reached for your hand with excited sparkles dancing in his eyes. “Are you ready?”

You only nodded, watching him like a hawk when he reached for the disinfection and turned back to you with a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. And just like before, Jungkook easily slipped into his tattoo artist mode, moving around with grace and something more that made your eyes stay pinned on him rather shamelessly. He must have felt your eyes scanning him up and down when he did the magic to your hand - aka applying the disinfection and then wiping your skin gently once he was done. After that, he put some kind of gel on your skin and when you asked what he was doing, he only chuckled.

“I need to print the design on your skin. It helps with the process,” he said, not giving you a single glance as he was so drawn in each step of his job. Next time you looked down on your hand, he was pressing the paper against your skin, peeling it off after he was sure the design was completely imprinted. The picture came out blue and blurry in some places, but you knew that wasn’t an issue for someone like Jungkook. “Is it okay like that? Do you want me to move it a little?” he asked, pushing back on the chair he was sitting in for you to have space to inspect the future design of your tattoo. You brought your hand closer to your face, inspecting each detail of the pattern, internally already excited about how it was going to look once it was done and completed.

Honestly, it looked nice and somehow, you felt it suited you well. Exactly like he told you when he first showed you the design. Simple and delicate, yet somehow daring. Nonetheless, you must have been checking it for way too long as Jungkook cleared his throat and you were quickly snapped back to the reality.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I think the place is amazing, you don’t need to move it. I can already imagine it,” you smiled without the realization Jungkook was closer to you once again, his hot breath brushing against the skin of your exposed shoulder. You weren’t going to lie here, the shivers danced down your spine crazily and your head spun a little when the scent of his musky cologne attacked your senses. How come you didn’t catch it sooner? Never mind, this wasn’t the right time nor place to be weak for the blonde artist.

Although he was hot.

Very hot.

“Okay then, let’s get this beauty done,” he smirked and you couldn’t do otherwise but mirror the excitement that was entangled within his voice. You outreached your hand for him, mentally preparing for the pain to come. Bonus points for Jungkook who let you breathe out for a while before he grabbed the tattoo machine and leaned closer to you to the point you felt his breath and cologne again. Damn, that kind of thoughts must have clouded your mind completely because you hissed when the needle first touched your skin. Thankfully, you didn’t flinch nor you moved an inch in your seat. Soon, you grew kind of used to the new sensation glazing through your skin.

“You okay?” he looked up to your eyes after a minute or two, you didn’t count. You only nodded, chewing on your inner cheeks because you couldn’t describe the weird sensation. On the scale of ‘it hurts’ to ‘it’s kind of annoying’, your feelings balanced perfectly in the middle.

“Yeah. Just can’t decide if it hurts or not. I mean, it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it was going to hurt. Am I weird?” you voiced out your thoughts with a chuckle accompanying them, hoping Jungkook would understand the message you tried to send.

“You are not weird. I’ve met countless people who couldn’t quite decipher what they felt, and to be honest with you, I’m surprised you are not squealing in pain considering the place you chose for your first tattoo is quite painful. No offense, of course. Anyway, yeah. Long time ago, me and my brother agreed this type of pain was… somehow exciting. You are expecting something great and you are willing to go such a length to get it, whilst the pain. I, personally, like that pain.”

“I can see that. Considering your arms are basically drowning in the ink. I like it,” the bold confession slipped your lips without you even realizing so. Jungkook stopped working for a split second and looked at you, eyes hazy and suddenly full of something that hasn’t been there before. And as much as you yelled at yourself internally to avoid his gaze, the other half of yourself did quite the right opposite. You started back with the growing smirk curling your lips in a teasing matter. Something inside of you enjoyed the little game that was slowly but surely getting out of control with each second that passed. If he could call you love, you could play with him in return as well.

All while keeping his eyes on yours, he started talking, the process of tattoo momentarily completely forgotten.

“Most of it is mine work, some of it my brother’s. Got my first one when I was sixteen and parents almost killed me. My brother went with me, he played the role of my legal guardian since I was still a minor. And that’s basically how this addiction started. First tattoo, drawing my own designs, getting the machine and experimenting on my own skin. I fucked up some and my brother had to cover it with another design. And I still want more,” he said, giving a special emphasis on the last word as his eyes flickered in your direction for the last time before he started working on the tattoo again. The stinging sensation grew heavier, yet you prevented yourself from yelping or flinching in your place.

Because the sensation of his burning stare caused you feel more than the process of inking your skin itself.

“That really is a sheer talent,” you murmured under your nose, still bothered with the thoughts that kept whirling in your mind like a vortex that swept everything along the way. You thought about his words again and again until a question rolled down your tongue. “Do you think I might end up wanting more too?”

He looked up to you with the long strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes. The urge to push it behind his ear was too strong and you had to resist hard not to reach out to do it. Damn, there was something about him that kept bugging you like crazy.

“I don’t know, love. You can get rid of the tattoo in a year or less. Or you can come barge in like Jimin did because you will want another one. One can never know,” he said as he reached for the paper wipes to clean the first part of the tattoo that crawled around your wrist. His touch was gentle and caring, almost as sweet as the smile that appeared on his lips when he said: “I’m going to finish the outlining and then we can take a break if you want. But I should warn you that after the break, it might hurt a little. Your skin will be triggered, so if you feel dizzy or something, let me know.”

“Now you sound like I might pass out.”

“You wouldn’t be the first one,” again, the sound of his laugh filled the room and you rolled your eyes. “But so far, you are holding really bravely. You are definitely not going to pass out.”

The next twenty minutes passed in silence between the two of you, only the soft tunes of R&B music filled the room. However, that wasn’t something that disturbed you, quite the right opposite. You managed to relax yourself, body almost melting against the chair as you let Jungkook finish outlining the tattoo. However, despite your relaxed state, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he touched you even though it was just a part of his job. Of course he had to touch you, of course he had to be careful with what he was doing.

But there was something more to it. Something more about Jeon Jungkook and the way he talked to you when he explained the story behind his tattoos. The way his eyes from time to time flickered to you and refused to leave just to hold a tiny piece of eye-contact. Not that you wanted to flatter yourself, but you did. This wasn’t only in your head - he was staring because he probably felt the same connection or how you should call it.

No, it was not connection.

Perhaps something else.

Something you would dare to call desire.

But then again, you didn’t want to flatter yourself.

But you did.

The realisation you were all hot and disturbed because of the blonde tattoo artist covered in ink felt fresh and exciting, however, you were quickly pulled out of the pool of your thoughts when he pushed back and put down the machine, getting rid of the gloves. He threw them into a trash bin and when he looked at you, there was this bunny smile gracing his features.

“Time for a little break. Do you want coffee or something? I bet the one you brought with you must be already cold,” he shook his head and got up from the seat, eyes still pinned on you. For some reason, a thought of him being able to read your thoughts momentarily flashed through your mind - and you felt stupid for even thinking about it. Of course, it was only able in those fantasy books you loved reading.

Yet, his eyes mirrored something deeper.

“Coffee, please. With milk and sugar if I can ask.”

“Of course. Everything for you, love.”

Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said it might hurt after the break. The skin on your hand was triggered and burning, however, you were too proud to admit it was getting too painful and too unbearable. Instead, you kept biting on your inner cheek while your eyes remained on his focused face and his skillful fingers that were almost done with the tattoo. What was first a design in Jungkook’s little sketchbook was now a beautiful art gracing the skin of your hand in a very delicate way. Just when the art was done and Jungkook cleaned your skin, he put on a transparent tape over it and gave you yet another bunny smile.

“And, we are done,” he pushed away from you and got rid of the latex gloves, cleaning the mess around while you hopped down from the chair and checked yourself in the mirror on the wall (although you didn’t really have to since the tattoo was perfectly visible just by looking at it). As you were scanning your posture in the reflection, you also felt something else. A pair of eyes running up and down your body rather shamelessly, and you had to admit - you enjoyed the attention he was giving you.

“You are strangely silent and I’m not sure if I like it or not,” Jungkook surprised you with his words, causing you to finally turn to him with a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was already done with cleaning the space, now sitting in the tattooing chair with arms folded over his chest. Something about him was so mesmerizing you found yourself unable to look away and take a deep breath. He seemed the same, though, giving you a rather intimidating look full of undisclosed attention and something more.

“I was just checking the masterpiece you created, that’s all. It looks amazing,” your voice came out strong and steady, surprising even yourself when you finished the sentence with a smile plastered over your features. Ever since you crossed the threshold of Jungkook’s salon, you managed to boost your confidence a little over the small talk and the cup of coffee you two had together during the short break.

“Now you are exaggerating, love. Anyway, I’m glad you like it. The first one is always very special. At least in my case,” the smirk was soon replaced by the bunny smile you found too cute on a guy like Jungkook. His appearance and look probably confused many people - including you. When you saw him for the first time, you thought he was a bad boy, a player, someone who would toy with you around only to tell you off the next day. But the more you were talking to him through the session, the more convinced you grew he was actually a nice guy with passion for art and tattoos. He was a nice example of that ‘to not judge the book by its cover’ saying. Those thoughts seemed to occupy your mind for longer than you thought as Jungkook slid down the chair and came closer to you, examining the tattoo he has just given you. “And it looks very good on you. Hot and tempting, but also sweet and delicate. It’s complimenting you well, love,” this time, he put a special emphasis on the last word, catching you completely off guard. However, you quickly collected yourself as your eyes found his, already staring. Once again, he came too close to you, completely destroying the last pieces of your personal space, but for some reason, you didn’t give a damn. If he was about to play, you weren’t the one to chicken out of this. No, not really. Therefore, came the answer with a smile flashing through your features and the smirk your eyes managed to pull out.

“Thank you, I like that place too. And who knows, I might come for more once I think about it deeper,” you smiled and internally fought the urge to touch him somehow. Anyhow. The aura around him was so welcoming you almost heard it whispering those teasing words into your ear, luring you to come closer despite the fact his work was over for now. You didn’t want to be done with him, not yet. You wanted more.

And moreover, you wanted him to call you like that again.

Gosh, being attracted to someone has never been more annoying than at this very moment when you wanted nothing more but to lean closer and—

“I’d be very happy, to be honest,” he took a step back, however, the smirk remained lingering over his facial features, giving you that tiny spark of hope that the game wasn’t finished just yet. But then again, he took a step back and it was a sign for you to do the same.

“Surely I will let you know in advance next time. Now, how much do I owe you?”

“How much what?”

“How much for the tattoo, Jungkook,” you couldn’t help but put a special emphasis on his name that rolled down your tongue easier than you first expected. He seemed to be caught off guard momentarily before a soft sound of him chuckling filled the room.

“Nothing,” he shrugged as if it indeed was nothing, as if he just didn’t grace your skin with his art.

His answer made you look at him in pure shock, blinking once and twice before his answer settled and you finally understood the simple word that left his lips. Just when you were about to scold him a little, he caught you unprepared with yet another shocking answer. “I stole a drink from you, so think about this as a payback. Also, you seem to be friends with Seokjin - and Seokjin’s friends are my friends.”

It was quick and bold answer, leaving you standing there as if someone spilled a bucket of cold-ass water over your head. Your lips formed a shape of a small ‘o’ and you very probably looked like a complete idiot.

“No, I can’t let you do that. I came here on your day off; you can’t give me a tattoo for free.”

“My studio, my rules, love. However, you are right about this one,” he wondered out loud, giving you a look that you couldn’t decipher, quite the right opposite. The look and his answer made your heart beat faster, almost as if it wanted to jump straight out of your ribcage. However, you kept it cool, just casually waiting for him to tell you more.

But he didn’t.

“So?”

“So… let’s just say you owe me this one, love. Let’s settle this as a debt I can collect anytime I want. What do you think about that?” he tilted his head to the side and gave you a look that was supposed to look innocent, yet there was nothing innocent about the mischief burning in his eyes. And despite the fact you didn’t know what did he mean by the ‘debt he could collect anytime he wanted’, the idea somehow excited you, causing the butterflies to play the game of catch in your tummy again.

“I think that’s something I can agree on.”

“Then give me your number, love,” he fetched his phone and unlocked it, handing it to you right after. You took a deep breath, typing the number and giving it back almost immediately. You didn’t dare to save the number, honestly curious about what name he was about to use for you. But as much as you tried to peek, Jungkook turned away from you, typed something down and then gave your phone a quick call so you had his number as well. Just then he put the phone back into the pocket of his jeans. Pout momentarily flashed through your features, but once he turned back to you, it was quickly replaced by a smile. At least you had his number now.

“Alright so… I’m gonna go now. Thank you for… you know, staying and working despite you were supposed to have a day off.”

“No need to thank me, pretty one. Let me tell you, it was a very well spent time. I will see you around? Perhaps on Seokjin’s anniversary party at the bar next week? Or… perhaps sooner, who knows,” the same mysterious look appeared in his face once again as he gave you a look. You tried not to pay attention to the way he ghosted after you while you collected your stuff and slid into the leather jacket. “And don’t forget to take care about the tattoo. Leave the tape on for approximately twenty-four hours and then gently wash it. And use a special lotion, here, I almost forgot,” it was impressive how quickly he snapped into his artist mode, reaching for one of the tubes standing on the shelf nearby. “Here, use this. Twice or thrice a day. If anything, call me.”

“Thank you, Jungkook. I will see you.”

“I already can’t wait, ____.”

Perhaps Jungkook was right when he said he would see you at the bar next week. And maybe, just maybe, you expected that stupid call or debt-collecting way sooner. Because once you came home from the tattoo session at his salon, you did nothing else but stared at your phone, almost cursing yourself for being that worked up over a boy you’ve only spent a few hours with. Yet, he left you excited and expecting, although nothing came. The week was long and boring, you mostly spent it with your friends or cuddled under the blanket with Netflix and bottle of red wine. From time to time, you thought about giving him a call first, but you always declined the idea as soon as it rubbed against your mind. You didn’t want to seem desperate; you didn’t want to look like another freshmen thirsting over the postgrad student, way out of your league.

But then again.

The way he talked to you never left your memory, quite the right opposite. Your brain decided to rub it in your face until the night of Seokjin’s anniversary party came and your friends came barging into your dorm room with paper bags full of alcohol they claimed to be a ‘pre-game you needed’. Drinks were followed by loud laughter and fight over who was about to use the bathroom first - because it had the biggest mirror and the best lightning needed for a precise make-up process.

Hours later, you finally made it to the bar, wearing short black dress your friends chose for you despite your loud protest. At first, it felt a bit uncomfortable because you were used to visit the place wearing jeans or shorts with comfortable tops, but once you realized you weren’t that underdressed, it calmed your mind a little since there were girls wearing considerably less amount of clothes.

“I’m thinking about tequila, what about you?” one of your friends asked, actually not waiting for you answer as she made a straight bee line towards the bar. Not caring about people waiting, she fought her way towards the bar and ordered you a round of the drink you swore you would never drink again. Yet, some promises were made to be broken - all over again, in your case.

After you received your shot of tequila, you cheered with your friends but not for long. It literally took them ten minutes to disappear, dancing in random corners of the bar with random dudes while you tried your best to find a calmer place - which was a corridor that led to the restrooms and deeper, where the visitors of the establishment weren’t allowed.

Not that you weren’t about to have fun, not at all. You just wanted to check your phone in case… well, you were probably very much head over heels for Jeon Jungkook who didn’t give you a call or spared you a text since last Saturday, but who were you to blame him?

“Looking for someone?”

You almost jumped in your place, placing the phone back into your purse as you turned around and face Seokjin, the handsome bartender to whom this crazy party has been dedicated. Instead of his usual place behind the bar, he seemed to have a night off, enjoying the party at its fullest.

“No, not really. My friends dumped me and I wanted to check my phone, that’s all,” you shrugged with a smile on your face, crossing your arms over your chest right after. “What about you? Aren’t you having fun tonight? It’s your third anniversary as the most handsome bartender - as I heard. What are you doing here?”

Yes, what was he doing there? In the hallway that led towards the door to the supply room when he wasn’t even working? Perhaps he was seeking some lone time as well, you didn’t know.

“Oh, we are at the VIP box with the guys but we ran out of some bottles so I was just going to get them. It’s easier than fetching it from the bar. Do you mind giving me a helping hand?” he asked with a genuine smile plastered over his features. You quickly nodded, following him to the supply room. You’ve never been there before which made you feel like going on an adventure. Seokjin quickly grabbed a few bottles of whisky, handing you two of them as he collected more. You gave him a look but he left it without answer which only left you wondering just how many guys were out there, sitting in the VIP box he had mentioned before.

“So, are you enjoying the party?” you asked and followed him out of the supply room, hands full of bottles of alcohol. Seokjin scoffed but smile crawled to his lips almost immediately.

“I’d rather spend the night behind the bar. I mean, I’m not saying I’m not enjoying the night, but it feels different to be on the other side. I guess I’ve been working here for way too long to enjoy a proper night off.”

“Come on, this is your party, you should enjoy it,” you nudged him as you navigated your way through the crowd of people dancing on the floor. The VIP box was located on the second floor of the bar, way calmer spot for people who just wanted to chat and enjoy the night without bumping into already intoxicated (mostly) freshmen. Way up there was a bit challenging with high heels and your hands full, but you successfully reached the spot - and almost dropped the bottles when your eyes met with Jeon Jungkook’s. He seemed to be surprised to see you up there but he quickly adapted to the situation and offered you a smile that quickly transformed into a welcoming smirk.

You put the bottles on the table, completely ignoring the looks of others, and straightened your posture.

“Okay, so… I’ll go,” you didn’t know who did you address your words to, but Seokjin was the one to answer you almost immediately.

“Why would you go? You said your friends dumped you. Stay with us for a while and then you can go. I don’t think the others would mind,” he said, turning to the guys sitting around the table. They shrugged one after another until it came to Jimin and Jungkook. The duo seemed to welcome you way warmer than the others, deep into a conversation about a thesis that was completely out of a place.

“Come, sit, sweetheart,” Seokjin ushered you to the last vacant spot next to Jungkook who immediately moved to give you slightly more space. Not so much, though, as he shamelessly threw his arm on the couch over your arms. He didn’t touch you, but you knew the motion spoke for itself.

“So, you got dumped, huh?” he asked, leaning a bit closer so you could hear him. The music might have been a bit more silent than down there, but people still needed to sit closer to each other if they didn’t want to yell like crazy. Exactly like the rest of them since the conversation seemed to escalate into something reminding more of a fight.

“It depends on the point of view. They were pretty much smashed before we even arrived here. You know, the pre-game and stuff. So, after a shot of tequila, they disappeared to look for an adventure like Powerpuff girls. I’m not blaming them, it’s not the first time. And right now, I guess I’m talking way too much, aren’t I?” you looked at him, kind of flustered by your own behavior. The words just fell off your mouth without you thinking about them first. Perhaps you were intoxicated more than you first thought and it perfectly mirrored on the way you were talking to him - shamelessly and without filter between your brain and mouth.

“You can never talk too much, love.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. At least you are not blushing and giggling like crazy. That’s really something I’m not digging,” he shook his head and looked into your eyes but soon, the gaze dropped to the hand in your lap. He gently reached for it, his thumb recreating the lines of the tattoo that was already in the process of healing. “Seems like you didn’t forget to take care about it. Good girl,” his voice dropped a few tones lower and his breath caressed your skin. Your eyes met and your heart fluttered, the urge to lean closer was back and on the highest alert. Yet, you were still not intoxicated enough to simply lean closer, grab his collar and kiss him right here, in front of his friends. Also, the way Seokjin peeked over his shoulder to check on you to stopped you from proceeding with the plan that has just come to life in your mind.

But taking one brave step forward would harm anyone, would it?

You leaned closer to his ear, desperately fighting the way his cologne was making you go crazy, and whispered: “Exactly like you told me, Jungkook.”

His posture changed and you could swear you saw the muscles shifting under the layers of clothes he was wearing. With clenched jaw and closed eyes, it took him a while to come back to his senses. Yet, you never pulled away from him, enjoying the scent of his musky cologne taking over your senses rather quickly.

“Love, what are you doing right now?”

“What am I doing?” you asked, blinking once and giving him an innocent smile. “I’m not doing anything, Jungkook. I just let you know I’m taking care about my tattoo the way you told me to.”

“Right,” he straightened his posture and cleared his throat. Something inside of you chuckled, the silent voice telling you that indeed, the game you started to play last week was on the table once again. With those thoughts, you watched as he reached for one of the bottles on the table and turned to you with a question mirroring in his eyes. You only nodded, giving him a go to pour you a glass.

Suddenly, you completely forgot about the pre-game drinks and the round of tequila you had shortly after you’ve arrived at the establishment. You forgot how annoying the hungover might be in the morning. Also, it was too late to think about it when Jungkook handed you a glass of whisky you brought with Seokjin. It was neat, without ice cubes you would be happy for, but this had to do.

“To—is there something we should cheer to, love?” he asked, taking his previous place next to you. Dangerously close to you. You looked at the glass in your hands and let out a humming sound.

“First, we should toast to Seokjin. In the end, this is his party,” with those words, you turned to Seokjin who occasionally kept an eye on you two. He smiled and nodded, joining the toasting process without even being invited. When the others joined and their loud cheering filled the space, you turned back to Jungkook without taking a sip of the drink. “And then, perhaps, we should drink to this masterpiece you managed to create on my hand,” you smiled softly, yet the softness never reached your eyes as the game has already started. And you hated being on the losing end.

“You are the fierce one, I see. Honestly, I misjudged you a bit,” he said, downing the drink and putting the empty glass on the table. You did the same and leaned back, your nape brushing against his arm that managed to find the way around your shoulders once again.

“Now you got me interested. How did you misjudge me, Mr. Jeon?”

“Easy as that - you came to my studio visibly stressed on Saturday morning. I knew you were not sure about getting the tattoo at first, but then, something changed. As if something has clicked inside of you and you took the complete opposite direction. I liked that. I liked that a lot. But then again, I’ve already told you I’m not digging the fake shy game. You decided to be honest with me,” he shrugged, offering you a genuine smile.

And that was the moment the smile vanished from your face.

Because you weren’t completely honest with him.

You didn’t tell him the whole tattoo thing was just a bet because you didn’t manage to get Jimin’s number. Yes, that satan who now sat at the same table as you, laughing loudly on something his best friend told him. However, you weren’t mad about the bet anymore, because what came out of the consequences you had to accept was something beautiful. Something you fell in love with your eyes fell on it.

And perhaps that was the reason you decided to be honest with Jungkook once again. You took a deep breath, desperately trying to calm the inner storm that dispersed the game of catch the butterflies played in your stomach.

“Actually, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Come at me, love. Tell me whatever you want.”

“The tattoo… when I came into your salon last weekend, without having an appointment… it was a consequence of a bet I lost the night you stole my drink. I— I believe I don’t have to tell you what that bet was about, but the condition was simple. If I fail, I’m about to get a tattoo. I believe my friends used it against me because I was talking about getting one for quite a time, so… this was just a push for me,” suddenly, you weren’t so brave and bold as before. You felt shrinking in your seat, the touch of his hand on your shoulder almost burning. For some reason, you expected a storm coming but instead, your senses met with a chuckle that escaped Jungkook’s lips. He shook his head, giving you a rather unbelievable look.

“So, a bet, huh? I’m not gonna lie to you, love. You are not the first one to get a tattoo because of a bet. Although, I didn’t consider you the type to accept conditions like this. I guess I should put that on the mental list I made about you - things about ____ that keep surprising me. We should drink to that.”

You looked at him with mouth wide open, probably looking like an idiot. You were expecting a lecture but instead, he laughed in your face - and didn’t forget to flirt along the way. And although you were pretty much caught off guard, you quickly collected yourself and relaxed a little. Your little secret was out and you felt much lighter.

“May I know what was that bet about?”

“No, you may not. Now, pour us that drink.”

“Savage. I like that as well,” smirk graced his features momentarily. Your glasses were soon filled with another round of the golden liquid that easily slid down your dry throat and numbed your senses more. The good old feeling of intoxication clouded your view of world and your head spun a little, making you lean into Jungkook. The blonde didn’t seem to mind as he finished his drink and his hand other hand slid to your thigh, leaving a burning trail as it finished its journey on your exposed knee. He was silent for a moment, his eyes dropped to his hand that explored your skin, fingers dancing on the floor of your naked skin. The sparks of electricity were undeniable, making you take a deep breath.

“So? How did you decide? Do you want to get rid of that or do you want another one?” his hot breath met the sensitive skin under your ear as he leaned closer to ask you a question you didn’t see coming. Just then his hand left your knee and grabbed yours, thumb once again recreating the lines of tattoo he gave you. The way he was basically curled around you, shielding you from the outer world that seemed to go wild around you, made your breath got stuck in your throat, unable to give him a proper answer even though you were basically screaming in the back of your mind.

“I haven’t given it a thought yet, to be honest. But if I wanted another one, I’d definitely book an appointment beforehand, no worries about that.”

“Well, that’s your call to make. You have my number, so it’s going to be fairly easy,” he murmured, leaning even closer to you, not giving a damn about his friends sitting around the same table. You looked at him, taking a deep breath just to get a little bit higher on his musky cologne. And although his breath was mixed with alcohol and perhaps cigarettes as well, you so wanted to lean in and kiss those two sweet cushions. Inches of air held you from kissing each other, inches of nothing but space you hated so much. You hated it existed and you hated it prevented you from kissing the blonde tattoo artists. Although, everything you needed to do was simply to lean in and steal the kiss.

You didn’t do it.

No, you didn’t.

Because he was faster.

He crossed the last line of your personal space and pressed his lips against yours in a kiss that was sweet but tempting at the same time. You felt the tip of his tongue caressing your lower lip, wordlessly asking for a permission to slip in and give you more.

But there was this thing.

You weren’t alone. Not at all.

That was the reason you pushed back even though the kiss left you feeling like a hot mess. And before you had a chance to speak, he pressed his index finger on your lips.

“It’s time to collect my debt, love.”

“Collect how?”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, boldly.

You felt your head spinning and you didn’t know whether it was because of the alcohol or the excitement that rolled through your body and settled in your core, sending painful pangs to your lower parts. Yet, you managed to give him an answer right away.

“Like where?”

“Like to my place.”

“Gladly.”

The cold night outside seemed to be the only witness of your little escape from Seokjin’s party. Jungkook’s friends sitting around the table were too busy with the fiery conversation going on to notice the two of you left, and your friends were nowhere to be seen. The club was packed, so Jungkook had to hold your hand tightly when he navigated the way through the ocean of dancing bodies. You liked it; the way his fingers tangled with yours, holding tightly onto you just to be sure you wouldn’t disappear or bail from his debt-collecting plan.

When you finally got out of the club, the cold air brushed against your skin and sobered you up a little to the point you realized what you were about to do, but Jungkook didn’t seem to care as he led the way down the street, knowing exactly where to go. Just when you crossed the street and walked for a few more minutes, you realized his studio wasn’t that far away.

The studio.

Was he really taking you to his studio?

“Didn’t you say we are going to your place?” you asked, a little bit dumbfounded when he didn’t aim for the main entrance of the tattoo salon, but instead led the way to the other side of the building. Another door came to your sight and Jungkook fished the keys from the inner pocket of his leather jacket. He noticed you staring at him with furrowed brows and he chuckled.

“Of course, love. This is my place, you just haven’t seen it all, that’s it,” he said as he unlocked the door and pulled you into a dark hallway. He closed the door and locked it again, but instead of turning on the lights, his arms sneaked around your waist like a pair of snakes, pulling your body closer into his. The way he teased you back in the club was nothing compared to how he held you at the moment, his chest hot and heaving with every breath he took brushing against you, igniting the fire again. “I hope you didn’t change your mind, princess.”

“Not yet,” teasing words rolled down your tongue and were followed by loud yelp when Jungkook’s hands slid down your bum and made you jump into his arms. The dim light of the street lights that peeked inside through the windows illuminated his face and revealed the smirk curling his lips.

“Love, you know I like it when you are fierce, but even I have my boundaries. So, if you don’t want to end up with blue ass and shaking legs, I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” he murmured into your ear and turned around as if you weighed nothing. His motion only made you wrap your arms around his shoulder and bury your face into his neck. Soon, you felt him climbing the stairs to the upper floor. Curiously, you looked around only to see nothing. The room was covered in darkness, not even the street light reaching inside.

“Mhm, mysterious,” you mumbled under your breath and squinted your eyes in desperate effort to scan the place. Jungkook only chuckled and continued in his little journey until he reached one of the doors, bringing you inside. Finally, he switched the lights on and revealed the place he brought you to.

The room was coated in darkish colors and was dominated by a big bed with sheets crumpled in a messy pile. Opposite the bed was a working table with PC and a pile of sketchbooks and in one of the corners stood a guitar. The rest of the room was made by wardrobe, drawers and shelves. It was simple yet it somehow complimented his persona. For a while, you just stood there, looking around yourself to grasp a tiny detail that would tell you something more about Jungkook’s character. And just when you were about to dive in, a pair of strong arms curling around your waist from behind cut the train of your thoughts.

“Do you want something to drink?”

You turned in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck to pull him into a kiss that seemed to be the most natural thing ever. Your lips met in a sweet kiss that soon grew into something more heated, perhaps a fight for dominance you immediately lost as he pressed you closer to his chest and caressed your lower lip with his tongue. You opened your mouth, welcoming him with a silent whimper that crawled from deep inside of you. He smirked into the kiss, deepening it a little to lure another series of moans out of you. And when he pulled away with the same smirk still playing over his features, you pouted.

“That wasn’t an answer, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to drink. I want you,” you murmured and your fingers started to work on his leather jacket, slowly rolling it down his shoulders until the piece of clothing hit the floor. But you didn’t stop, the jacket wasn’t enough. Your fingers found the way to the buttons of his shirt, undoing one after another until his firm chest came to view and you took a deep breath.

“Seem like you like what you see, love,” Jungkook wondered out loud, chuckling right after. Honestly, you didn’t mind stripping you off the clothes that covered upper part of his body. He didn’t even mind when your fingers touched his burning skin and recreated the lines of tattoo covering his chest and stomach, mainly the tattoo of tiger and its paw that disappeared under the waistband of his peeking boxers. When you touched him there, his hand shot up and handcuffed your wrist. “In this household, we play the fair game,” with his words, you found yourself pressed against the wall with his lips lingering around the skin of your neck. So close, yet so far; his lips left you desiring when he didn’t kiss you there. And you were craving him. You wanted him like crazy. Your mind was clouded, your eyes seeing red as he carefully peeled your jacket off your body. Cold air mixed with his hot breath gently caressed your skin and you trembled, wishing for nothing but to be in his arms already.

“Then strip me,” surprisingly, your voice came out steady and full of confidence. Even Jungkook blinked once before the infamous smirk flashed through his features - and to your very surprise, he took a step back until the back of his knees meet the bed and he sat down. Spreading his legs while leaning back on his elbows, he teasingly clicked his tongue and you felt his eyes running up and down your body.

“Why don’t you do it yourself, love?”

Wave of heat rolled through your body and your cheeks flushed momentarily. He took the game to yet another level and for a split second, you weren’t so sure about playing. But then again, your eyes briefly flickered in his direction and you had to swallow the whimper crawling up your throat.

“Fine,” you shrugged and reached for the straps of your dress, internally cursing your friends for making you wear it. This piece of dress was too tight to allow you to wear a bra underneath, but thankfully, you could afford to wear at least panties. The process of thinking slowed down your motion which only boosted the hunger in Jungkook’s eyes. The spark of power play flashed between the two of you as you finally managed to pull one string down - and the second followed right after. You’ve never stripped in front of anybody - if you didn’t count your friends, but that was a completely different case - so you weren’t so sure about what you were doing. Yet, Jungkook seemed to like it. His hand slid to his crotch where the bulge started to form while a silent curse left his lips.

You pushed the fabric lower over your hips and let it hit the floor before you stepped out of it, kicking the high heels off your feet along the way. Shivers danced down your naked spin and you trembled a little under the weight of Jungkook’s heavy gaze. He was silent for a while, only staring at you as his tongue poked his inner cheek.

“I always knew you were a piece of art, love,” his words surprised you and brought yet another wave of blush to your cheeks. Even in the middle of a heated moment he was complimenting you like a true gentleman. His posture straightened as he sat on the bed and signaled you to come closer. “Come closer, sweetheart.”

Your body acted on autopilot, approaching him only to stop between his parted legs. He looked at you from down there, long blonde strands of hair falling into his eyes as his hot breath brushed against the soft spot under your exposed breasts. The shyness went completely away when he leaned closer and his lips traced a line of wet kisses down your stomach. And again, as if your body didn’t belong to you at all, your fingers found a way to his hair, tugging on the strands tightly when he slid down the bed and dropped to his knees to reach lower.

The tingling started in your fingertips, making them numb to the soft feeling of his hair, and continued to your inners, travelling down to your core that you already felt dripping wet. Your panties were ruined the moment Jungkook stick his tongue and copied the curve of its lacy hem. But before he could do something more, you pushed away, looking at him through your hazy eyes.

“Sit.”

Throaty laugh crawled out of his mouth, but he obediently sat back on the bed, waiting for your move. You weren’t so sure about your next move, but what you knew what that you couldn’t let him continue in his little play. You were already balancing at the edge of falling down the pit of pleasure - and honestly, you didn’t want to let go that easily. And that soon.

You waged your way between his legs only to drop to your knees like he did seconds ago, undoing his pants rather quickly. The bulge in his pants didn’t escape your attention and you found yourself licking your lips. The situation completely took over your senses and turned you into a someone who desperately sought something raw and feral.

“Must be painful, isn’t it, honey?” he was the pro in using pet names, but who said you couldn’t give him one as well? Mainly when he looked like he really enjoyed you calling him like that. However, you quickly hushed those thoughts to the corner of your mind and rolled down his pants, throwing it into the space behind you. Fierce, really. Suddenly, Jungkook was sitting in front of you only in his boxers, yet you decided to get him rid of those as well.

Wearing nothing but ink and the smug smirk on his face, you took another deep breath to calm your senses before your eyes dropped to his lower area. Tall and hard, his cock brushed against his underbelly with his red tip that called for some attention.

“It indeed was painful, thank you for your help, little one,” suddenly, his voice dropped a few tones lower and you swallowed hard, contemplating what to do next. Of course, you weren’t stupid, you knew what to do next. However, you wanted to adore the view in front of you for a little longer.

Because the naked man in front of you kicked the air out of your lungs completely.

“Well then we should do something about it, don’t you think?” you leaned closer, fingers curling around the base of his pulsing cock. Whimper escaped Jungkook’s lips and you smirked, leaning even closer to gently kiss his rosy tip.

“Love, don’t tease me,” he murmured, voice deeper than before because of the tense atmosphere lingering around. You had none of his shit as you took him in and twirled your tongue around his length, feeling the veins popping out. You gave him a few licks before diving deeper, letting his tip brush against the back of your throat. His whole body tensed under you and his hand found a way to your hair, tugging on it rather harshly. Not that you minded.

“Fuck, love, just like that—“ he threw his head back and moaned loud, causing you to swallow on purpose. You looked up at him exactly at the same moment he looked at you, eyes wide open as a deer caught in the flashlight in the middle of the road. What happened next was too fast for you to catch up but suddenly, you found yourself caged under his firm body on the bed, legs wide apart as he squeezed himself in between. His whole posture changed, the features of a soft artist were gone and replaced by something harsher and hungrier. He was hungry for lust and passion. He was hungry for you.

“It’s time for you to get rid of these,” he murmured, pushing away only to get you rid of the panties. The sound of fabric ripping filled the room and you gasped, giving him a rather offended look.

“Those might have not been my favorite one, but hey! I’m not going home completely underwear-less!”

“Who said you are going back home?” the cockiness in his voice caught you completely off guard and unprepared when he parted your legs again and slid lower, making himself comfortable in between. “Because I’m not letting you go home that soon, love,” with those words, you felt his lips burning a fiery path down your underbelly until he reached your womanhood. And then, the fireworks exploded behind your closed eyes. First, you felt his lips sparing your nether lips soft kisses, nibbling and sucking gently. Then, you felt his tongue sliding up and down your slit, lapping around to drink your juices. And last, you felt his teeth gently teasing your clit which almost pushed you towards the bliss you wanted to hold off for as long as possible.

But your plans were ruined the moment you felt one of his fingers pushing in slowly, curling inside only to leave your body twisting on his bed and in his sheets. Soon, second finger followed, stretching you oh so good while his lips never stopped the wicked dance with your clit. Moans mixed with curse words fell down your lips and your fingers tangled within his blonde locks in a desperate need for climax. And as it was slowly building inside of you, you rolled your hips against his face and now three fingers that pushed in and out in a desperately slow manner. The man exactly knew what he did to you - and he enjoyed it.

“Jungkook—I—I need to cum. Please—“ you stuttered with the last strength you found in yourself, giving him a look. He started back, looking like a hot mess between your legs with your juices glistering all over his face.

“You sound so good when you are pleading, love. Do you want it that much? Huh?” he asked, picking up the pace and you nodded, desperately rolling your hips against his hand. You felt the spasm coming, dangerously close, peeking around the corner. Chuckling sound filled the room as he dove deep into your core again, this time sucking harsher. That was the last action that finally pushed you towards the first orgasm of the night. You let go and welcomed the warm arms of the bliss, screaming and moaning while Jungkook tried his best to guide you through the paradise. The motion of his hands slowed down and he spared your inner thighs sweet kisses to calm you down a little.

It’s been a while since you experienced orgasm this hard and heavy, clouding your senses for minutes until you came back to yourself. You opened your eyes to meet Jungkook’s. He was hovering over your, his erecting poking your inner thighs only reminding you that indeed, he needed some release as well.

“You are so beautiful,” with those words, he leaned closer and gave you a taste of yourself, the kiss so sweet but so passionate at the same time. After you were sure your body recharged at least a little, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, bodies colliding together. Yet, what was sweet once again turned into something not so innocent anymore. His hips rolled against yours and you were again reminded of his pulsing shaft.

“Jungkook—“

“Yes, my love?”

“I need you. Take me. Make me yours.”

“As you wish, my love,” he spared you one last kiss before he pushed away and reached for the nightstand. You gave him a confused look before you realized he was reaching for a pack of condoms. Smile sneaked to your features as you grabbed his arm and pulled him closer again. And at that moment, it was his turn to be confused.

“You don’t need that. I’m clean and on pills so—“

“Shit, don’t tell me twice,” he was back above you, his hand crawling down to his shaft to give himself a few pumps before you felt his tip brushing against your slit. The familiar wave of heat rolled through your body and you didn’t even have enough time to collect yourself as he slowly pushed in, grunting noise accompanying his motion. Slowly, from the tip to the base he filled your pulsing walls and halted, his eyes scanning your face to find a tiny hint of discomfort. However, there was none, only a pure need to urge him to move.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” his voice came out low and hoarse with the first roll of his hips. Unable to form any coherent word or sentence, you only nodded, desperately reaching for him to hold onto something. The gentleman he was, he leaned closer, however the motion caused him to part your legs even wider until you find yourself in a position when your legs were pressed against your chest while Jungkook picked up the pace, sliding deeper and deeper with each thrust of his hips. He looked at you and despite the lust that almost sent you to another dimension, you managed to give him a smirk.

“I told you—I did yoga.”

“From now on, you are only practicing yoga with me, love,” smug smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as his thrust became harsher and you felt his tip hitting your cervix.

“You wish,” your teasing manners didn’t leave you even in such a situation, and you soon felt your legs pressed between his and yours shoulders as he decided to lean in and shut you with his own lips. The kiss was hot and heavy, broken from time to time because you the moans that crawled out of your throat. Each thrust of Jungkook’s hips became harder and deeper, which made you call out his name loudly. You felt the sensation building inside of you, slowly but surely. Clenching around him, you tried desperately to push him towards his own limit which was already visible in his hazed eyes. He was close and so were you, yet letting go still seemed out of option.

“More,” you murmured, tugging on his lock, pushing him closer and closer to the finish line. You felt him twitching harshly inside of you, first drops of precum warming your insides.

“Fuck, love, I’m so close.”

“Then cum with me,” your voice came out as a desperate cry, eyes almost tearing as you looked at him, completely lost in the view he provided you. Hot mess was nothing compared to the man towering over you, desperately chasing over the sweet release.

His hand found a way between your sweaty bodies, crawling lower until it reached your clit and gave it a few rubs which finally pushed you towards the finish line. Your body was momentarily caught in a spasm before you allowed yourself to let go, screaming and desperately digging your nails into the skin of Jungkook’s back. The second orgasm of the night felt stronger than the first one, mainly when Jungkook kept thrusting into you, still not there. And you let him. You let him overstimulate you until his body tensed and his cock twitched inside of you for the last time before the thick warm sprouts of his release coated your insides and eventually leaked out into his sheets. His body collapsed into yours and you let a whimper. The heavyweight of his relaxed body made you unable to breathe and when you tried to push him away, it didn’t work.

“Kook, baby.”

“Hmpf.”

“Jungkook.”

Nothing.

“Jeon.”

“What?”

“I can’t breathe.”

“Crybaby,” he murmured and slowly pushed away while gently pulling out of you. The sudden lack of his girth made you whimper but you soon found yourself comfortable as he rolled over and pulled you closer to his arms. His chest was firm but soft at the same time, the slight scent of his musky cologne mixed with post-sex scent lingering around. He pressed a kiss to your hair and chuckled.

“What was that?” you asked, too tired to actually look at him.

“Nothing. I just didn’t imagine collecting my debt to end up like this.”

“Now you are lying.”

“No, I’m not, love,” he shook his head and spared the crown of your hair another kiss. “I wanted to ask you on a date. Well, I guess we skipped that stage. Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless you want to go on date with me.”

Now that was something that made you look at him with a question mark hanging above your head. The man that has just fucked the soul out of you turned into a complete sweetie asking you out for a date. How unbelievable.

“That I’d love to, Jungkook.”

Heavy sigh left his lips. It almost looked like he was relieved.

“And you know what else I want?”

“What is that, my love?”

“Drink. I want my drink, Jungkook.”

“I swear to god… You are going to be the death of me.”

#bts fanfic #bts fic #fanfiction #jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #smut #college au #bts au

[skellebonez]

Prompt 76, MK accidentally lets it slip to Pigsy that Monkey and Macaque are “seeing each other” as in not quite dating but been on a few “dates”...again. Pigsy who is on a low profile and hasn’t told MO who he really is, let’s it slip how he thinks “his eldest brother can do better” and MK is very confused.

Feel free to ignore!!!!! I’ve never asked for something like this before and if I did it wrong feel free to ignore it!

I may or may not have a soft spot for protective younger sibling type scenes in media so I had way too much fun writing this.

It could be worse. They could be dating. Wait? They are?!

"I don't understand what that damn monkey is thinking half the time," Pigsy said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his snout with a groan. "Just... let Macaque on the ship, yeah, that totally isn't going to backfire. Not like he has ulterior motives at all, not like we just learned all the stuff he pulled over the last year including trapping three of us in a lantern to fight you and teach you some kind of lesson.”

Things had been tense on the drone ship for the last month. They’d barely begun on their journey before a certain immortal monkey managed to catch them off guard and chase them for multiple days under the White Bone Spirit’s influence.

It became apparent very quickly that she was using him to toy with them, a sort of gloating in her victory. Well, joke was on her. Sending him after them meant they were able to see just how far her influence and control actually reached and they were able to find a way to free him from that with more than a little force and some stolen artifacts.

The fact she hadn’t sent anyone else, however, was... concerning to say the least. If she wasn’t worried about losing her grip on Macaque, of all people, that did not bode well for them.

But for the moment that was neither here nor there. What mattered in the moment was that in the month since the immortal monkey had managed to be dragged onto their ship to recuperate Wukong had become far too comfortable with letting him have free reign over whatever he wanted to do on the ship (within reason).

And Pigsy didn’t like that. Aforementioned soul trapping in a lantern and trying to turn MK against his teacher and all that. Pigsy didn’t trust Six-Eared Macaque as far as he could throw him.

"It's been a month and nothing's happened yet?" MK offered not so helpfully, shrugging with an awkward nervous chuckle. “I mean... unless he’s playing a really long game he’d probably have done something by now, right?”

"Well... It could be worse," Pigsy admitted with a chuckle as he stretched out and started to cut up the ingredients for his lunch dish. "They could be dating."

MK made an awkward choking sound as he inhaled his water.

"Wait...?" Pigsy turned around slowly, leveling the young man with a half glare. He stared for a moment, watching as MK refused to meet his gaze. Looking left and right and literally anywhere not at Pigsy’s face. "THEY ARE!?"

"I didn't tell you!" MK shouted, jumping up and hiding behind the table and pointing at Pigsy dramatically. "I said nothing, you cannot pin this on me!"

"YOU KNEW AND YOU KEPT IT A SECRET!?" Pigsy yelped, tone not angry but loud enough to make MK freeze with wide worried eyes. The chef stopped, sighing again as he took in a calming breathe before continuing. "Ok... ok... MK, I ain't mad, being mad at you would be ridiculous. But exactly how long have you known?"

MK frowned, looking up at the ceiling in thought before a tentative but curious look passed over his face.

"...I can neither confirm nor deny that I caught them smooching in the med bay two weeks ago."

"TWO WEEKS!?"

“You didn’t hear it from me!” MK said, pointing at himself as he backed away with another nervous laugh. “I have plausible deniability, you figured it out on your own!”

“Of all the hard headed thick skulled bad decisions that stupid-” Pigsy mumbled to himself, burying his face in his hands as he held back a scream of frustration. “There are so many men. So many men! So many ex-enemies even! But no, he had to go and hook up with his actual ex that tried to take over his identity and kill his entire travel party!”

“To be fair he kinda seems to be changing for the be-wait...?” MK started to offer, watching at the chef paced around the kitchen. “How... do you know they used to date? I don’t think even Tang knows that.”

“He could have dated literally anyone else and he chose to get back with Macaque,” Pigsy said with another sigh, removing his hands from his face with a scowl. “I knew he was dense but elder brother can do so much better.”

“I’M. SORRY?” MK yelled, this time being the one to startle the other. “ELDER. BROTHER?”

Pigsy froze, eyes wide in horrified realization. “... you didn’t hear that.”

Pigsy ran out of the room, MK hot on his heels.

“PIGSY COME BACK YOU NEED TO EXPLAIN AND NOT MAKE RASH DECISIONS!”

Pigsy did not go back to the kitchen, instead heading straight to the rec room that he knew the two monkeys were spending most of their recent time in when not off alone who knows where (now he knows where). MK was following right behind, trying to both get an explanation out of him and to dissuade him from confronting the Monkey King and also looking generally very confused and concerned.

He didn’t succeed before the pig demon slammed the rec room door open.

"WUKONG!" Pigsy shouted from the doorway, startling the two immortal monkeys from whatever conversation they were engrossed in . "You. Me. Deck. Now."

"I-"

"NOW. ELDER BROTHER."

The facial journey through confusion to realization to horror on Sun Wukong's face was worth the delayed reaction shout of "WHAT DO YOU MEAN ELDER BROTHER!?" from the other immortal sitting next to the Monkey King.

“BAJIE!?” Wukong yelped.

“YOU’RE ZHU BAJIE!?” MK yelped in much the same tone.

“Oh fuck,” Macaque whispered under his breath.

“DECK!” Pigsy repeated.

“BAJIE WHAT THE FUCK!?” Wukong repeated himself.

“ZHU BAJIE!?” MK also repeated.

“How many other enemies did I piss off that are on this ship?” Macaque continued, seemingly resigned to his fate.

“YES I’M BAJIE STOP YELLING MY OWN NAME AT ME!”

Needless to say that conversation was the most incoherent non-productive mess they had on the ship in the last month. Until Sandy burst into the room and forced them all to talk it out peacefully.

Macaque did, in fact, learn how many old enemies he had on the ship when Sandy came clean that he was also Sha Wujing.

And Pigsy did not, in fact, manage to talk any sense into his elder brother given how much MK was yelling at him for keeping his identity a secret from him.

Wukong just sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands wondering what in the actual hell his life had become.

(The next day, after a night of rest and a day talking to MK and apologizing and explaining everything, Pigsy caught the two immortal monkeys asleep cuddled on the couch of the rec room and decided that his elder brother could make his own decisions. And maybe MK had a point, given Macaque hadn’t done anything. Yet.

If he pulled a blanket over the two of them while they rested and they noticed no one said anything about it. And if Macaque snuck off the ship and there were, coincidentally, some rare ingredients for some dishes Pigsy missed making and a few scrapes and bruises on the immortal when he resurfaced... well, he didn’t say anything either. But he made it a point to have more mangoes and plums on hand.

Just in case.)

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #ship fic #gen fic #pigsy #mk #Qi Xiaotian #sun wukong #monkey king #six eared macaque #shadowpeach #once again i think the highest form of comedy is YELLING AND CONFUSION and i don't know why

[jiminrings]

Lunchbox lovers request:

So I would love to see a sit down talk between yoongi and mc. Just so like mc can sort her feelings out about everything, and like get advice about forgiving Kook. Idk, I just want those two to have a chat between besties.

-🐞

cold senior!y/n x stem major koo masterlist :D

yoongi will be on y/n’s team — always

“what do you want for dinner?”

yoongi had the best afternoon nap anyone could ever possibly have

it was a mid-afternoon nap actually and something about it just hit different this time

there’s days when it’s extremely warm y’know? not hot, but like uncomfortably warm

it was that uncomfortably warm afternoon when everyone’s collectively feeling sleepy?? turn the airconditioning on to its coolest and sleep without a shirt on and be surrounded by a pillow on both sides......?

yeah that afternoon nap awhile ago really put yoongi on a happy mood

he’s not asking what you want for dinner because he slept good :D

excellent afternoon naps aren’t the only things that make him this way!! lol you could also count days when he receives a random gift out of nowhere and the days when you replace the toothpaste instead of him

but really, whether or not he gets these instances, he genuinely just asks you what you want for dinner so he could either cook it or order it

“what do you want for dinner?” yoongi nudges you from your spot on the couch, about to invade your personal space again and lie down on your lap before you get to cooking

you only hum in response, your best attempt at returning his affection coming in the form of tussling his hair

“we already have dinner, yoongs.”

omg that’s nice then

“you already cooked dinner? even while i was still asleep? wow, look at you,” he praises you abundantly, attempting to pinch your nose when you dodge him

.... that’s the thing though

yoongi watches you visibly freeze when you were doing anything in the first place besides watch your show in a still position

“i didn’t.”

oh

if your dorm was already silent, it became even mORE silent now

if you didn’t cook, then that means-

“jungkook brought dinner.”

yoongi finishes for you and it’s the far worse equivalent of two mothers bringing their own turkeys for thanksgiving

the show you’ve been rewatching is white noise at this point that you can’t recognize anything in this room besides yoongi

it’s been two weeks

that’s literally half a month

two weeks ever since jungkook’s been pouring active effort into working for your forgiveness and normalcy with him out of his own volition

alright maybe you’ll just focus on the gray streaks in yoongi’s new hair <3

and maybe he’ll just focus on the blue stain on your pink pajamas because he put them in the same load when they were newly-purchased <3

yeah but no you can’t do this forever

he can’t do this forever

you and yoongi can’t do this forever

the two of you can’t keep dancing around each other whenever the mention of jungkook pops up because the two of you have two dRASTICALLY different perspectives

right now, yoongi’s just awkwardly laying on your lap and he’s can’t even look up ay the ceiling

“do you wanna talk about it now?”

you end up caving by asking him first, a sigh of relief from holding it in which makes him relieved because he didn’t want to initiate that

“yeah, let’s talk,” he pulls himself up and he’s now looking at you with much embarrassment, “can we even have this conversation while completely sober?”

yoongi’s really rEALLY looking for a distraction to help ease this discomfort in his chest

okay you get where he’s coming from

“you mean you wanna share a joint with me while we have a long-overdue conversation?”

you chuckle at the mental image of yoongi seeing literal stars and freaking out about it, probably crying while he chats to you

“mhmmm. would probably calm our nerves. o-or maybe just mine, atleast.”

to be honest, he doesn’t even have quite a clue on wHY he’s nervous!! it’s the two of you and you’ve always been comfy with each other

that’s the whole foundation of your friendship — you’re fully comfortable with each other and the two of you find it difficult to be this comfy with anyone else

if he really delves deeper into it though, yoongi would know that the reason he’s so nervous for this conversation with you is because he doesn’t want to fight with you

you’d only have occasional tiffs and arguments ever once in a while, but never a fight!!

he’s not assuming that your conversation would turn into a fight, but that possibility scares him still because what if he loses you?

:(((

and if the two of you do fight, it would be over a junior named jungkook who broke your heart and probably insulted you to your core

he doesn’t want to romanticize it either, but if the two of you do fight, yoongi would want it to be something entirely else

he’s willing to have a fight about being messy and how it frustrates you so much

he’d pick a fight over his clingy habits and how it sometimes makes you feel insecure

he’d pick a fight over how he wants to be your number one best friend so bad that it’s beyond unhealthy he’s making it a competition

he’d want a fight over him being a lil insecure of seokjin at times because the two of you get along so well and know much mORE things than he ever could and he can’t always be included in the inside jokes

what yoongi doesn’t want is to fight over jungkook.

“that sounds nice,” you agree because maybe you too are feeling a little antsy, “but we could do that after.”

he nods, his hands curled to his lap that he only meets your eyes now

“okay.”

oh my god

what now

everything’s put out of the way and it’s now the part when you actually tALK

“are you mad at me?”

you take the first approach and it’s already heavy right from the start, the question weighing especially hard in your mind the past few weeks

“what? no. i could never be mad at you,” he answers just as quick and precise, “i’m mad at him.”

“and i understand that.”

you really do know where yoongi’s coming from because after all, you’re the receiving end of all of jungkook’s words at the time

but that’s the thing!!!

that’s tHEE thing that bothers yoongi the most

you have this feeling of guilt because you feel like you’re betraying yoongi in a way

“then why are you letting jungkook in again?”

it’s as if it’s a double-edged sword and merely entertaining jungkook would be a stab in the back to yoongi, even if you don’t owe him anything

“because i understand him too.”

yoongi deadpans at that, a tired sigh falling instinctively from his lips but his mind’s more awake now

“god, seriously?” he shakes his head and outstretches his hands to hold your shoulders in place. “y/n you are the most lovable person i know. you believe him when he told you otherwise-“

“i-i know it isn’t true. it’s not true when it comes from jungkook.”

your voice wavers but it’s not the only thing that’s coming in waves, your resolve blurring even more when you see yoongi fighting back his own tears

“but when it comes from me i-“

“it’s not true either.”

all that yoongi does is take you to his chest the moment your body feels limp with the sigh that escapes you, a knowing body of tears coming next

your parents’ divorce is the furthest thing from fresh but the impact it placed on you renews without warning, the thoughts coming in waves

they were sure to reiterate over and over again that it wasn’t your fault, but god the way that they never even bothered afterwards made you think otherwise

“i-i just feel like a placemarker and neither of them came back for me, y’know? don’t get me wrong, i love my aunt to pieces and she’s family and-“

your faint sobs rack your ribs and yoongi can feel them, a relief that your face is buried to his shoulder so that you wouldn’t see him cry

“jin and i are your family too.”

they are but deep down, you know it’s a whole other ball game

“b-but that’s because you’re unrelated to me. i don’t remind any of you of the other. i’m not your daughter.”

it really wasn’t as harsh as how your words cut out, but it just breaks yoongi’s heart to know how difficult is must have been and is for you

you mumble when you calm down enough, playing with a loose thread on the cardigan you’ve gifted him on his birthday this year

“jungkook didn’t know that sore spot. he couldn’t have, but i’m not defending him either, yoongi.”

you mean it with full sincerity and he’s trying to digest your words as best as he could before his bias gets the best of him

“it’s on him for being horrible to me, but it’s on me for relating what he said to what i felt a long time ago.”

yoongi opens and closes his mouth, but before he does, you’re lifting your head up to interrupt him

god he’s aLSO crying

“use the sleeves to wipe your snot, dumbo. it’s not even that expensive!!” you chuckle when you urge him to do so, making him both frustrated and sheepish because his goddamn snot interrupted you

you lean on his shoulder and stay that way, this time being a rare occurrence in which you cling to him like a koala

“and i know that he shouldn’t have said those things to me either way. i do.”

yoongi nods at that, capturing his point fully

he insists on patting you on the forehead, drawing circles and definitely not a penis as he drawls his words

“he can’t take back what he said, y/n.”

“but that doesn’t mean he can’t redeem himself, yoongs.”

you offer him a timid smile, turning into a bigger one when you know just the right approach to satiate him enough

“jungkook taking accountability is the bare minimum, though,” you chuckle when he nods eagerly to the point he gives himself whiplash, “which is why i’m being smart and haven’t fully forgave him yet.”

…

…..

yoongi sighs when the two of you spend the pause in silence, speaking in all honesty

“i don’t know if i can forgive the little shit.”

“you don’t need to.”

you say just as genuine, a reassuring smile on his face to ease the focused knot on his brows

“you don’t owe it to me, yoongs. i know what you’re thinking.”

you really do

he tends to look at you in high regard even when you tell him that he shouldn’t, and it leads to him with the mindset that he really should appease his best friend at all times

“i eventually will,” he admits quietly. “just not now.”

“that’s okay too.”

it was supposed to be another bout of silence but yoongi actually breaks this time, blurting out words once he felt that the coast was clear

he just needs to get this off his chest before this heart-to-heart moment dwindles

“i don’t want to sound weird, but you’re like, my platonic girlfriend, y’know? my soulmate in a very platonic way, but no one says either that your soulmate has to be in a romantic sense and-…”

you exclaim in relief, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you jolt him by the shoulders

“god, finally. i’ve always wanted to tell you that i feel the same. you’re my soulmate, i’m pretty sure. my very, very platonic boyfriend i live with.”

yoongi sighs, stares, then fiNALLY heartily laughs in relief

everything’s out of the way :)

“we’re good. we always will be.”

you’re about to get up to fulfill yoongi’s suggestion earlier, being cut short when he gently pulls you by your forearm when you stood

“i’ll always be on your team — you know that right?”

yoongi means it with his whole heart, just one more reminder he wants you to reaffirm in your mind for the night

“i’ll always be on yours too, yoongs.”

#AHHHHHHH THEY FINALLY GET TO TALK :D remember that the next update is the last installment for their (((chronological))) series!!! #the rest of the next updates would be miscellaneous so you can send in requests for that as early as now!!! FEEDBACK PLS AND THANK U :D #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook au #jungkook college au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook drabble #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

[inviouswriting]

Family with you

Simeon x fem!reader

Some light smuts mixed in, but mostly fluff. Nothing graphic but enough to be cut.

If mc was already a mother when arriving to Devildom with their child. Needed something for myself too. 

TW: for reasoning behind the father figure not in as a result of them leaving, or uninterested. Abandoning mc. 

When you had first arrived at Devildom, the others were surprised to the child with you. Looking no older than between five to seven and hiding behind you. Lucifer was first to be taken aback by this exchange, and Diavolo immediately is dropping down to say hello.

Things progressed as they normally did afterwards. You had a stronger backbone when it came to threats and reminded the demons that you’ll have their horns and wings if anything happened to your child. 

You are single, and comforted your child as best as you can in a world full of demons. Diavolo set up a special way for your child to be cared for while you attended RAD. Spending time with Barbatos, to learn from him rather than be around all the chaos.

When you met Simeon, it was like something clicked between you two. Barbatos had brought your child to you at the end of the day, and Simeon is already enamored by them. His eyes shined at seeing them, and you feel trusting of the angel. Luke sees a potential friend, close in age, able to relax, though he felt more like an older brother figure. 

“Why not visit us a little more?” Simeon offers, and you take him up on the offer for any peace and quiet from House of Lamentations. A steady relationship bloomed between you and Simeon. Alot of the time spent guiding both Luke and your child in the right directions.

When Simeon asked how your child came to be, you felt your face hot at mentioning everything prior to Devildom, whether a joyful one or a unpleasant. Your child was someone you never regretted, even out of wedlock. 

Simeon understood the question he asked was personal, and remembered how it sounded from an angel.

“I mean genuinely, I am not asking you or putting you under a confessional. I am just curious, do you have anyone in your life... in the human world?” You see the dusting of pink on his face, and it clicks for you.

“No, they’re not in the picture anymore.” At your words Simeon takes your hands into his own, realizing he has a full chance. 

“Would you go on some dates with me then?” You are surprised at this, and want to say yes, but your eyes drift to your child playing a game with Luke. 

“I’d love to, but who would watch them?” You haven’t quite trusted the brothers, the closest one you feel you could is Beelzebub, and Asmodeus. 

“I think Barbatos can, he does enjoy both Luke and your child. I’m sure it would be fine to escape for an evening.” He offers solutions, and you agree to a date.  Agreeing was easier than the actual planning.

The night arrived, and you are dressed nicer than you normally are. Asmodeus being supportive and helped with an outfit that accents a Ristorante Six date. Simeon took care of arranging Luke and your child to be with Barbatos to learn how to cook some things together.

All that was needed was you, so Simeon met you at the restaurant. When he first saw you, he thought you really are an angel in disguise. Once inside, you talk about your life prior to Devildom, him learning more about the things you’ve gone through to raise this child, the hardships you’ve faced and he feels more protective of the idea of being with you.

Simeon walked with you for hours afterwards, you went back to House of Lamentations to drop off food you had leftovers from to Beelzebub. Promising him at least a dessert. The rest of the evening was spent walking through the city portion with Simeon. Getting to know him, his ranking as an angel, how he is raising Luke almost as a child of his own.

“More like grandson.” He amuses aloud, and you gently poke his sides. A moment is stilled between you and he takes his first kiss with you overlooking the Devildom.

After that first date, many more were had, till you are sure you are inseparable to Simeon as much as your child is so fond of Luke. 

When you became so entangled in your angels life and him in yours. You find yourself yearning for the love you two have made. Seeing him fall head over heels with your child, you laugh at moments when he is tender and gentle teaching them different ways. 

There have been only a few fights, only when it came to how you chose to raise your child. A little more firmness than Simeon letting Luke have free reign to learn from his own mistakes. You still had a role as a mother, and reminded Simeon that it works for him, but not for you in some aspects. You reminded your child of boundaries whenever Luke showed discomfort in sharing something.

After an evening of sharing insecurities with Simeon, explaining how hard it has been being alone. He runs his hands through your hair to remind you, you are not alone anymore. You question if he finds you attractive, the hour late, and you both knew Luke and your child sound asleep.

Simeon expresses his desires in you, even when you shyly bared yourself to him, he graciously kissed any marks left on your body from carrying those years ago. Didn’t care of your breasts were a little uneven, or what others have said as a “mom” body. Whether you were skinny or you never lost the weight, belly that sagged or didn’t look right to yourself.

“This is the result of the miracle you have brought into the world. And you are far more beautiful than you realize.” Simeon looks over every spot of you, blue eyes curious to the scars he may see, whether you had a rough pregnancy, or the scars left to save you both. He leaves no spot unkissed, letting you feel truly seen and loved more than the first time a man took interest only to leave later on.

Simeon sees the faint hurt in your eyes when it is reflected after kissing a spot that flared a memory. He replaces that memory with his own touch, reminding you that he loves you even as he loves you till you are clutching his bedsheets or pillows.

In the morning you feel wonderful, renewed and shy as those dark arms are wound around you possessively. Simeon not wanting to let go of you yet, your eyes being greeted to his face first thing, blue eyes meeting yours. 

You tease each other, tease long enough that Simeon coaxes you into a softer session with him in the shower together. Where he holds you up against the wall and any of those smut novels never compared to the things an angel has done to you.

When you broke the news to both Luke and your child about your relationship, Luke is surprised and almost unsure, questioning Simeon about whether he wants to risk his job as an angel. Simeon refutes this with.

“There are no risks involved, I’m in love.” You realize he could lose his wings.. you don’t want to make him choose. Your child on the other hand looks at Simeon with love in them. That an angel could literally be their father.

“Does this mean you’ll get married?” The thought crosses your mind with Simeon glancing to you, perhaps hopeful of your thoughts on the idea.

“It might mean that, if he wants to be.” You feel a squeeze in your hand from Simeon, and you catch his gaze. He is successful in the things he does, and he shines unique as an angel.

“I would love that. To have a family with you. Perhaps once we are in the human world?” Simeon asks, and you nod to make that a goal. 

The path to marriage was longer, going through so much, that the evening when Simeon actually asks you to marry him, you thought he was joking. It was on his birthday, and you had spent the day with him. Luke and your child set up a pleasant surprise for you both, getting Barbatos and Diavolo in on this unique exchange.

“Of course!” You are happy to no end and Simeon is relieved. The ceremony is held on the spot, as a more private exchange. The brothers agreed once you had chosen Simeon solely.

It isn’t until you were given a honeymoon to Diavolo’s private island that the need for your angel was truly awakened. Spending almost every day with him and night finding out just how much Simeon wanted you more than you realized. You wondered how much he held back from the first time you were together. 

Soon you settle into a routine with the new life with Simeon. That it surprised you when you found out you are pregnant again. Fear rises in you, as this was the scenario you had the first time. Perfectly happy, then it came crashing down when the other half didn’t want to be involved.

So you hide it from Simeon, for now. You wanted to wait before you told him, to see if your body could handle another. It isn’t until you are lying down fatigued that Simeon catches on. His fingers are tender as they touch your stomach to sense life, giving you a firm stare for not telling him sooner.

“My love, how long have you known?” He questions, he is already pressing his face to say hi to the life forming. 

“Only a few weeks... I wanted to be sure that this one will stay.” Simeon looks up smiling, the intensity in his eyes fades.

“My lamb... how could you keep this wonderful secret from me.” Your hands card through dark brown hair, bright blue eyes peek up more framed by dark skin. He is over the moon and nuzzles his face into your belly. 

You smile and feel a little guilty he found out this way. You wanted to tell him, and see him full of joy instead of concern. Though his happy expression keeps you from spoiling him too much. You learn him and his ways of showing love, but this side of him. 

You are amazed at how much he dotes and loves you. Seeing the blush on his face realizing all those sleepless nights resulted in a life that is of you and him. That this brings you two closer than ever.

When Simeon looks up he sees your eyes brimming with tears and he freaks wondering if he did something wrong.

“Please don’t leave me...” You plead him, and he remembers that years ago that a child is the reason your first doesn’t have a father. Whether by them leaving, vanishing, or expressing unwanted. He sees the pain return to your eyes, the wound that he had spent so many times trying to mend to heal your heart.

Simeon moves to sit with you and cups your face into his hands as he presses loving kiss after kiss.

“Never will leave you. Not now, not ever.” You tremble in sobs at the shock still going through you of the fear settling in, that it “could” happen. He could grow tired, just like before. When things got tough and they just left. 

Simeon sees the hurt still, and it takes coaxing from him to get you to curl up into his side. His colder hands pressed to your forehead as a nausea wave hits you and you let go of all your fears and tell him you are afraid he will leave you.

He assures you, he is there permanently, he won’t leave, not unless you chase him out yourself. And that breaks you of your spell, the fear of pushing a literal angel away overwhelms you and you raise up to kiss him like you haven’t before.

You still had hours before Luke and your child would be home, you spend the next few hours entangled together. You and Simeon on the floor of the house you call home. His hands going over every speck of you, and kissing away your worries. He is surprised when you take initiative to ride him, and your love making with the angel is truly felt through every nerve that you hold onto each other tight.

When you woke up much later, Simeon is next to you in the bed you share, just watching your face serenely. Foreheads pressed together.

“What time is it?” You question him, and start to raise to look at a clock and Simeon guides you to lie down.

“Almost time to make dinner. We still have time before they’re back. Let me spend this time with you?” You look at him and lay your head back down next to his. He seeks out your left hand to rub at your wedding band, while his other hand presses over your belly. He’s more loving here than what he did hours ago, touches you with such tenderness that you feel your heart thudding in your chest.

You indulge Simeon as he presses loving kisses and you both discuss the possible baby names. Simeon ever grateful you choose to be with him and love him.

#simeon fluff #shall we date simeon #simeon angel #simeon x reader #simeon #simeon smut #obey me simeon #simeon x fem!reader #mc is a parent #I tried to include body positivity as some have scars and things we find unpleasant with our bodies #I am also feeling super down lately so needed something to pour my feelings into.

[aomine-ryo]

kise breaking up with fem s/o like maybe he just used her or it was a bet or idk (yaaas angst but idk if you could make a HEA work at the end?? but yeah :P) scenario pls thank youu ❤️❤️

The DRAMA lmaooo

I really like writing for Kise ngl so it’s kinda long. I hope you like this :) x

Scenario: Kise using and breaking up with a fem! s/o

Kise Ryouta likes playing games. Basketball, football, tennis— you name it, he’s probably played it. But things like sports take a long time to hone enough skills to thoroughly enjoy it. So what does Kise do when he’s in the need for a quick bit of fun? Fool around with girls’ hearts, of course.

Kise’s track record with girls has not been the best. In fact, the track record is so incredibly long that it would take a week to get through it all. Despite this, he gets girls falling for him time and time again because of his looks. It’s quite pathetic to him really. At this point, he’s just seeing how far he can go with this. The moment he gets bored with the girl he’s with, he calls it quits and moves on to the next. Toying with their feelings over and over.

You were fully aware of this. But for some reason, you thought you were different. No one could blame you to be fair. There’s something charming about Kise that no one could resist.

Prior to your relationship, you and Kise were actually quite close as far as classmates went. He was paired as your lab partner for Chemistry and he also sat behind you for Math so it was inevitable that you had to communicate. He’d tell you all about basketball and all his endeavours with other girls and you’d just listen whilst trying to make sure he didn’t cause any chemicals to explode (it was quite ridiculous how often this nearly happened).

“So, Y/N, what’s your deal?” He asked you in the middle of a practical activity one day.

“My deal?” You repeated in a questioning tone, taking your eyes off of your notes to look at him in confusion.

“You know, I’m always the one sharing. Tell me about yourself. Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked you.

You did your best to hold back a laugh so that you didn’t seem pathetic in front of your crush. “No, I don’t,” you answered simply.

“Seriously? When did your last relationship end?” he asked, getting way too comfortable with the questions.

“I’m not sure. Maybe a year ago?” you replied, hoping this conversation would end because it was embarrassing on your part.

“A year?!” Kise exclaimed far too loud for your comfort.

“Geez let the whole school know, why don’t you?” You snapped, a tint of pink rising in your cheeks as you looked around nervously.

“Well that’s just simply wrong. Someone as cute as you shouldn’t be single for that long,” Kise said smoothly, catching you off guard as your cheeks got even brighter.

“Hm, sure,” you muttered in a sarcastic tone as you did your best not to leap in joy at the fact that he called you cute.

“No, I’m serious. Let me take you out on a date,” Kise said with his award winning smile.

You felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest and lay limp on the table in front of you. “Ha ha very funny. As if you even like me like that,” you said, maintaining your cool and logical thinking.

Kise placed his hand on top of yours, which was resting on the table, the sudden warmth sending your mind into a frenzy as you looked at him with concern. “Well I’ve actually liked you for a while now. I was kind of just working up the courage to actually ask you out,” he said, the sweetness of his words paired with the way his thumb grazed over the back of your palm swaying your judgement.

You took a deep breath in attempt to collect your thoughts. You had to be realistic here. You didn’t want to end up like those other girls he talked about. “You’ve practically gone around the whole school. What makes me so different to the other people you’ve gone out with?” you said, hating how harsh you sounded.

Kise seemed to be impressed by your response. It wasn’t often that girls would question him like this. However, it just make him smile with joy. He liked a challenge; you would be adding good fun to Kise’s game.

“I’m not sure. Something about you makes you so easy to talk to. You should know— after all, you know so much about me at this point when I barely know anything about you,” Kise said before tightening his grip on your hand. “We’d work well as a couple, don’t you think?”

You tried to think it over, but your mind was far too blown away with this information that you couldn’t even form a coherent thought. Every part of you screamed at you to say yes, but you were still hesitant. You didn’t want to end up getting hurt. “Could you give me some time to think about it?” You asked, noticing Kise’s smile falter a bit.

Hearing that answer made him ecstatic though. It had been a while since someone seemed to be uninterested. It just meant that he could try harder and improve his game. Which is exactly what he did. He gave you a few days to think about it, but he certainly didn’t sit idle and wait around for a response. He’d send you texts every now and then, engage in flirty conversations with you during class, and even buy you chocolates in attempt to get you to say yes.

It worked though. In the end, you couldn’t say no to Kise Ryouta.

To you, it seemed like he liked being around you. He was always giggly and cheery and your relationship seemed to be lasting longer than the average length of Kise’s past relationships. Maybe you were the one who could finally tie him down.

“Hey there, cutie,” Kise smiled at you as he walked into the classroom of your after-school club one evening.

As usual, the supervisor was not around when Kise entered so he took his liberty in placing a peck on your lips as a way to greet you. A few of his exes were a part of your club and they’d always roll their eyes at the act, but you didn’t pay too much attention to it. “Hi Ryouta,” you’d reply softly once he pulled away, though his hand would remain on your waist.

“Ready to go?” He asked.

“Err,” your eyes scanned your area to see if you’d left any of your belongings. “Yep, all good,” you nodded, letting him lead the way out as you waved a quick goodbye to your friends.

“So, how was your practice?” you asked him as you walked across the school campus towards the gates.

“It was fine. Nothing new. You should come watch me practice, it’d be much more fun with you there,” he smiled, swinging his arm around your shoulder and causing you to lose your balance for a moment.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the act. You were now pressed against the side of his body as you walked, and the scent of his sweet cologne was stronger than ever. “You know I would if I could,” you replied.

“I like having you there to cheer me on. Plus I won’t miss you during practice then,” Kise said, causing you to blush. He’d used this line on countless other girls before and it always worked. It was fun to watch how you’d all just wrap around his finger so simply.

“God that’s so cheesy,” you said, averting your gaze out of embarrassment.

“Well it’s true,” Kise responded. He didn’t get that kind of response often but it was still clear as day that you enjoyed it.

Kise placed a kiss on the top of your head as you two continued to walk and talk about your days. This was how it always was with Kise. He’d pick you up after school and walk you home, saying goodbye to you with a rather passionate kiss.

Every now and then, Kise would be left home alone, so he’d call you over. And who were you to say no spending time like that with Kise? You had to admit, Kise knew what he was doing. You were never left unsatisfied. Surprisingly to Kise, he actually enjoyed this time you spent together more than he did with most other girls. He didn’t think too much of it though because he had made up his mind about you. You were just another one of his little games.

A few weeks into the relationship, you had started feeling more comfortable with your relationship with Kise. In fact, most of the school had begun to identify you two as a couple. Everything seemed to be going smoothly with him though, so you weren’t all too worried about that because you genuinely did feel like there was something between you two.

One Friday evening though, he picked you up after school with a smile like he always would. The two of you liked to visit a nearby cafe after school on Fridays so that’s where you were headed. He listened to you talk about your day though he seemed to be a little less responsive than usual.

“Hey Ryouta, is something wrong?” you asked him after you two finally settled down at the cafe after placing your orders.

“I know this is kind of sudden, but can I be honest for a moment?” Kise asked, a discomforted expression sitting upon his face.

“Of course, you can tell me anything,” you nodded, putting a hand over his reassuringly as a waitress placed his hot chocolate and your strawberry milkshake on the table.

“These past few weeks with you have been amazing,” Kise began. He always hated this part— it was such a pain. “And you’re really a cool person.”

“Aw thank you. That’s so sweet of you,” you smiled as he took a sip of his beverage.

“But I don’t think that this is going to work out between us, Y/N,” he said, making your heart sink.

“What?” you said hoarsely, unable to believe your ears.

“I think we should break up,” he reiterated.

You struggled to fight back your tears as your throat felt as though it was closing up. You should’ve known this would happen. “I don’t understand. What went wrong?”

“Y/N, you’re amazing and I feel like you probably deserve better than me,” Kise said. He’d used this line many times before too. However, a small part of him was genuine about it this time.

“Why do I feel like you’re lying to me?” You said, thinking out loud.

Kise was taken aback by your response. Did you see through him? “Lying to you? About what?”

“About why you’re breaking up with me. Someone like you wouldn’t think that there’s anyone ‘better’. So what is it? Is there someone else?” you couldn’t believe how blunt you were being. Your mind was moving too fast for you to process what was even going on.

Kise hesitated for a moment. He didn’t have to tell you the truth. He could easily lie his way out of this. Make up any other reason that isn’t the truth to spare your feelings. How could he say that he’s bored of playing around with you in a nice way? “I never actually wanted to be with you,” he said, words flying out of his mouth as if he drank a truth potion.

“Excuse me?” You said, appalled by what you were hearing.

“I mean, I was using you— wait no, I was just messing around.” Kise was a stuttering mess. Why was he saying this stuff? Why was he nervous to hurt your feelings? Why couldn’t you have just accepted that he wanted to break up easily like everyone else?

“You were using me?” You repeated his words, your sadness slowly turning into anger. “So was I just another fling of yours?”

“No,” Kise replied immediately. What was he saying? Yes you were.

“No?”

“I mean, yes you were. I was just bored and decided to date you for fun,” Kise said honestly, unable to even look at you in the face.

“So it’s true then. I’m just another one of your throwaway girls?”

“Yes,” Kise said. His eyes looked down in shame. Why was he mad at himself?

“You’re such an asshole!” You yelled, throwing your milkshake into his face, gaining the attention of everyone at that cafe. “Never talk to me again.”

You stormed out of the cafe, wiping the tears away from your eyes as you did so. Kise was left sticky, soaking and dumbfounded. This was certainly a first. He grabbed a few tissues to wipe the drink off of himself, but it was no use, he was still visibly covered in it. He quickly left the cafe too after apologising to the workers for causing a scene. He felt so embarrassed. Not once did he ever feel so hurt after a break up.

“Ugh what a bitch,” he muttered to himself as he walked home all sticky. Why was that so incredibly difficult? If anything, he was glad you told him not to talk to you again because he was equally mad at you for putting him on the spot like that.

When he got home, he immediately took a shower and tossed his clothes in the laundry basket. Once he was finally clean, he landed on his bed with a tired sigh, beginning to go through his phone like he usually would when he gets back from school. He noticed that you had blocked him on all social media, so there was no way of contacting you— not that he wanted to anyways.

He spent the rest of his weekend lazing around and going out with his friends like he usually would. He tried to get a fresh start and get the numbers of a few cute girls he saw, but for some reason all he could think about was you. He’d ask for a girl’s number and they were more than compliant, no witty comments like you would do. He’d go to the mall with his friends and remember which stores you liked to shop at. Hell, he couldn’t even have peace in his own bedroom because he’d remember you laying there with him. Countless other girls have been on this bed so why were you the one that stuck?

Kise did his best to avoid you at school. It wasn’t all that hard since you were doing the same. You inevitably had to work with him during Chemistry, but you could do so with minimal words exchanged.

A few weeks went by and Kise still couldn’t get you out of his mind. He tried going out with other girls but they never kept Kise’s attention long enough for him to forget about you. There were even times where he’d almost call them by your name. It was getting pathetic at this point. Maybe he did actually like you.

Kise’s mind entertained this thought for a while and it was slowly picking him apart. It even began to affect his performance at basketball because his mind was so occupied with the thought of being in an actual relationship with you. He was beginning to grow tired of running extra laps as a punishment for not being focused.

What made you so different? Kise couldn’t figure it out no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps that milkshake to the face woke him up. No other girl would dare do that to him. We he really being swayed by the fact that you threw a milkshake at him?

Eventually he gave up trying to figure it out. However he did come to a conclusion. He wanted to be with you. For real this time.

He managed to run into you after school one day. After dating you, he managed to memorise your schedule so finding you wasn’t too much of an issue for him. “Hey Y/N, can we talk?” Kise said.

Hearing his voice immediately made you turn on your heel and attempt to walk away as fast as you could. It was no use though, Kise quickly caught up to you and stopped you my grabbing onto your wrist.

“What the hell do you want?” You snapped.

“I wanted to say that I was sorry for using you like that,” Kise replied, pushing away his pride.

“What do you want me to say? That it’s okay that you wasted my time?” You retorted, trying to wiggle your wrist away from Kise’s hold.

“I genuinely am sorry. Something about you made it so that you never left my mind and now I’m trying to change, I just don’t know where to start,” Kise explained. “How do I get you to forgive me?”

“You can’t. Just leave me alone, why don’t you?” You said, finally breaking away from his grasp and walking away before he could bring you to tears again.

Kise ran after you once more. “Y/N, please. I really like you. I want to date you— for real this time,” he pleaded.

You finally stopped in your tracks. You stared at him with the coldest expression your face had ever worn. “Are you insane? What kind of desperate idiot do you take me to be to think that I’d agree to going out with you again?” you said, raising your voice.

“I don’t know what more I can say except that I’m sorry about before. I genuinely do like you, Y/N. I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since we broke up. Ask any girl I’ve dated and I can assure you that I’ve never backtracked like this before,” Kise said, noticing tears of frustration beginning to well up in your eyes.

If you were being honest, you really wanted to believe that he liked you. The time you spent together wouldn’t have felt like a waste if that were the case. However it still hurt. And you didn’t want to be hurt like that again. “I don’t know, Kise. How can I be sure that you’re not lying to me again?” You said.

“I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you again, but I can promise that I won’t lie. If I lie, I’ll buy you as many milkshakes as you want to throw at me— you can hold me to that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of his promise, putting a smile on Kise’s face as well. You took a moment to think about it before finally letting out a sigh, “Fine, I’ll give you another shot. But one lie and you’re buying me ten milkshakes to throw at you,” you warned.

Kise’s heart filled with glee. He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him feel like this. He was so elated that he nearly started skipping down the pavement. “Oh my god thank you,” he said, pulling you into the tightest hug ever. “I’ll treat you right this time, Y/N-cchi.”

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #knb #kise ryouta #kuroko no basket x reader #kise ryota x reader

[tommybaholland]

when their s/o suddenly quits/loses their job

featuring: team captains (aka daichi, kuroo, bokuto, oikawa, wakatoshi, and kita)

dedicated to any post-grads who might be struggling with finding their place in the world right now. you are valuable, especially to the haikyuu boys. enjoy <3

daichi

he’s just as shocked as you are when you tell him 

no matter how you felt about your job, he knew it was important to you and you always tried your best

he’s confident that you’ll find something else easily 

literally the most dependable and supportive boyfriend

“wait, are you serious?”

you shifted in your place while looking down at your feet and nodded. the realization hit hard in that moment as you felt the tears spill over your eyes.

“aww, sweetheart. come here,” he consoled, moving closer to take wrap you up in his arms. “let’s go sit down.”

he takes your bag for you and sets it down before leading you over to sit on the couch. he quietly hushes you while rocking you gently back and forth in his arms. one hand remains on your back while the other comes up to pet your head, smoothing down your hair. 

“i’m so sorry this happened to you, babe. i know you loved working there.”

“maybe i wasn’t doing a good job,” you sniffled before sobbing harder. 

his arms tighten their hold around you. “i don’t think that’s true. you are so wonderful and hardworking, it was probably a really hard decision for them to make. but i’m sure they didn’t do it to you on purpose, sweetness.”

“okay,” you agree, pulling away from him to give a weak smile as you wiped your tears with your sleeve.

“would you like a tissue?” he asks, reaching behind him. “here you go, sweetie. there you go.” 

“i think you’ll find something else in no time,” he encourages while continuing to rub your back. 

you’re not so convinced, still shocked that this even happened to you. “you think so?”

“don’t you think so?” he asked.

you shrugged, avoiding his gaze.

“babe, i absolutely one hundred percent think you will. even if it takes a little while, that’s okay! i know you’ll pull through and get something great or even better than your old job,” he assures. 

you manage to nod and wipe your eyes, mumbling a quiet thank you as you wrap your arms around him. he smiles as you nuzzle into his shoulder.

“we should get you up and doing something to take your mind off of it. are you hungry? i think some food might help clear that pretty head of yours,” he offers, nudging your head gently with his nose. 

kuroo

you had quit your job after finally deciding that it wasn’t good for your mental well-being 

but that was several months ago and you hadn’t been able to find another place that would hire you 

the more time that went on, the more you felt you had little support from others except for kuroo 

he could see that the pressure was weighing hard on you and you were getting more discouraged 

you remained in your seat on the couch as your boyfriend was tugging at your arm, determined to follow through with his plans. 

“please, baby. let me take you out somewhere.”

“i don’t know, tetsu. i’m not sure that i can afford to go out right now,” you reply solemnly. you didn’t mean to be such a downer but it was the truth in your mind. 

“um, what makes you think that you’re paying? i mean, what else do you have me for?” he jokes.

“noooo. that’s even worse,” you object, hiding your face in a pillow. “i don’t want all your hard earned-money to be spent on me, a freeloader.”

he scoffs. “you’re not a freeloader, babe. i want to take you out and treat you to a nice dinner and some good wine. we could go to that bakery that you like too,” he offers, wrapping an arm around your slumped form, rubbing up and down your arm.

then he hears your sniffles. “hey, sweetie. are you crying? oh, no. come here.”

he pulls you closer and you turn to cry into his chest. “i don’t think i deserve it.”

“hey, hey. it’s okay,” he soothes, hugging you tightly. “listen, i know you’ve been having a hard time adjusting with being in-between jobs. you might even regret quitting your old one. but i want you to know that i think you did what was best for you and i’m proud of you for that. and i think you’re doing your best now with what you have. it might not feel like it but you are doing something to help yourself and i think that’s something you should be proud of. so i think you deserve to go out for a fun night with your handsome, charming boyfriend and get your mind off of jobs and everything. so will you please come with me, hmm?”

you sniffle a few more times before looking up at him. “we can go to the bakery?”

“yes, kitten. we can go to the bakery,” he laughs. “if that’s all you want to do, we can just do that. i just want you to relax and see you smile again.”

you nod, giving him a small grin. 

“i’ll take that. thank you, beautiful,” he muses as he wipes a stray tear from your face before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “now, come on. go get ready, babe.” 

bokuto

has a rather overreaction when you tell him that you were let go from your job

meanwhile, you’re unfazed by it and understand their decision 

you try to remain positive about it and he’s happy to see that

insists on helping you look for new jobs and even offers you a spot on the volleyball team

he never took bad news very well, especially when you’re acting so nonchalant about it.

“babe, did you just say that they let you go?”

“yeah?”

“WHAT?! why? how? they can’t do that! so you’re not sad at all?”

you shrug. “i mean, it sucks for sure. but they had to get rid of someone and i was the last person they hired so i understand why they would choose me.” 

“but you’re, like, amazing,” he observes, his hands coming up to squeeze your shoulders. “didn’t they take that into account?”

“thank you, kou,” you grin, patting his cheek lightly. “and yeah. i’d say i was pretty good at my job but honestly, i don’t know that i could see myself working there long-term. and besides, now i can go to all of your games.”

his smile grows ten times bigger as stars shoot through his eyes. “oh, you’re right, babe!” 

he squeezes you into a hug. “i can’t wait to see my pretty baby there while i’m playing.”

“i’ll have to get another job eventually, you know,” you remind him gently. 

“right. right. don’t worry, babe! i’ll help you and-- oh! you know what you should do? you should be on the team!”

you smile, amused by his suggestion. “babe, i don’t know that they’d let me play.”

“you don’t have to play! you could be a manager or something, i don’t know. i’ll make up a position if i have to!”

you laugh and hug him tightly. “you’re silly, babe. i love you.”

“i love you more, my dearest s/o,” he replies before kissing your head. 

you saw nothing but puppy dog looks for the next few weeks when he would try to convince you to come work for the team. you’d had to explain to him that it sounds great but that you should have something of your own to work for. it’s never an easy conversation to have and he’ll pout for a little while but he knows you want him to succeed on his own and he wants that for you as well. 

oikawa

comes home to see you crying

he doesn’t like to see you upset but he loves comforting and coddling you

you try apologizing for crying over something that you could easily replace

he doesn’t mind one bit that you’re crying but they should know that they messed up

you wipe away your tears quickly as you hear the door open and close followed by his voice ringing out through the apartment. 

“helloooo, i’m home!”

you attempted to breathe slower so you could talk to him without hysterically crying. it was hard to keep the tears in as you saw him enter the room, coming closer to where you were seated.

“you’re home early. how’s my sweet s/o doing, hm?” he greets, kissing the top of your head. he notices the redness in your eyes and the tension in your posture. 

“is something wrong, babe?”

you immediately started crying again, hiding your face in his chest as you gripped the back of his shirt. 

“aww, baby. what are these tears for, hm?” 

you tell him about what happened at work that day. 

“those jerks. i’m so sorry, honey. i hope they regret losing someone great,” he responds, brushing hair away from your tear-streaked face.

“i’m sorry for crying about this. it’s so stupid,” you chuckle, wiping away the last of your tears.

“no. don’t apologize,” he objects. “you weren’t expecting it so it’s okay to feel emotional about it, babe. now we just have to think about how we can make it better.”

he suggests that you go have a hot bath while he starts dinner and you nod in agreement. 

“now, let me have one last hug.” he hugs you extra tight. “hmm yeah. i’m going to get all of the sad out of you.” 

your back suddenly makes a popping noise and he feels you relax a little more in his arms. “did you hear that? i felt it. i bet you feel a little bit better now, huh?” 

wakatoshi

you had just quit your job and didn’t explicitly talk with him about doing it

you were nervous to tell him for some reason despite that he’s never judged you for the past decisions you’ve made

however, he’s not very expressive so the stoic look on his face when you told him got you a little worked up 

he’s anything but disappointed in you 

you felt good leaving your, now old, workplace early after you finally decided to quit. you felt good about it until you were driving home and realized that he would be the first person you were going to tell about it. your nerves started to creep up on you, making the hair on your arms stand on their end. 

you decided to do this randomly and didn’t talk to anyone about your thoughts of quitting. you wanted it to be something that you felt you were making the right decision on and would have no regrets about it. so it didn’t make sense why you were feeling nervous to tell him. 

you opened and closed the door without making your presence. you knew he would hear it. 

“y/n? is that you?”

“yeah. it’s me, ushi,” you confirmed monotonously.

“did you forget something?” he asked, popping his head out from the kitchen area. 

you put your stuff down, shaking your head.

“no. i, um, i just quit,” you revealed, unable to meet his eyes.

“oh,” he replied simply. his habitual stoic expression remained which was putting you on edge. 

“oh?” you repeated. “is that all you have to say?”

“i mean, i didn’t know you were going to do that.”

you lowered your head, suddenly ashamed of your decision. “yeah. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you. i didn’t tell anyone that i was thinking about it if that makes it any better.”

you then felt his hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. “it’s okay.”

you wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up to him. “do you think i made a bad choice?”

he rubbed your shoulders gently, trying to relieve the tension. “i think it’s rather spontaneous but i know you meant well.”

you grin up at him, grateful for his undying candor. “thank you, ushi. i love you.” 

“of course, sweetheart,” he replies, hugging you tighter. he then suggests that you try to relax for the rest of the day and try to enjoy your newfound freedom.

kita

after you quit your job out of the blue, you managed to find a small part-time job that was flexible and let you work from home

you didn’t make a lot of money as much as your old job but it was the most ideal for you

however, you were getting burnt out from it and even though you were trying your best to find a full-time job, nothing seemed to change

you seemed very unfocused and distracted to him

“dear,” he calls in an attempt to get your attention. he then puts a hand on your shoulder, shaking lightly. “hey. lovely.”

you jolt slightly and turn to look at him. “oh. yes, shin?” 

he frowned at your forced smile. “are you alright?”

“yeah. why?”

“you just seem very distracted lately. this isn’t the first time i’ve caught you staring at nothing.”

your expression dropped into a frown, nodding at his statement. you didn’t really know how to explain what you were feeling. 

“i don’t know, i guess i’m just..tired,” you began. “i’m frustrated with everything and i’m stuck in this cycle that feels like it’ll never end. i want to do something but every day feels like i’m doing nothing and i hate that.”

he nodded in understanding, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders. “i think you’re just restless, sweetie. but you know, it’s okay to not do anything for a while.”

you rubbed your hands over your eyes and forehead. “i know but it’s hard. i just feel kinda useless, i guess.”

“you don’t believe that, though, do you?” 

“i don’t know. maybe,” you reply solemnly.

“well, i’d like to remind you that you’re not. just because you’re not working right now doesn’t mean that you’re productive. you do so much, precious, even when you’re not working. i’m worried that you’ll burn out completely and there won’t be anything left for yourself. let me help you take time to relax so you’re ready for whatever comes along. please, babe.”

he ends his response with a few kisses on your cheek. you’re reminded that you feel so lucky to have such a caring partner. you turn to meet his eyes and nod, smiling softly. 

“good. thank you, cutie.”

he pulls you closer in for a sweet kiss, one that makes you feel loved all over. 

keep pushing on, haikyuu night! request some comfort with your favs..

for more writing and nsfw versions, join me on Patreon!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #daichi x reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa x reader #wakatoshi x reader #kita x reader #tommybaholland #kuroo fluff #kuroo scenarios #bokuto fluff #bokuto scenario #oikawa fluff #oikawa scenarios #daichi fluff #daichi scenario #wakatoshi fluff #wakatoshi scenarios #kita fluff #kita scenarios

[pure-kirarin]

Slow & Steady [P6] [Sabo x f!reader] (+18)

A/N : Hello ! I wanted to start by thanking you guys for the AMAZING responses on chapter 5. This makes me want to continue investing in this story !! I read all of your messages and I cherish them, they make me want to continue. I'd also like to thank my beta reader for her hard work. I hope that you will enjoy this chapter as much as the others.

Please always tell me your opinion as it’s my kryptonite ! Also feel free to ask to get tagged.

Synopsis : Isn’t love a matter of timing after all ?  That’s what Sabo has always thought. It was about finding the right tempo, making the right moves and hitting the right spot. Patience is a virtue after all, and he had a lot of it. It all started when your ex cheated on you. You were heartbroken, you needed someone and he was there. Was he always that hot ? You didn’t know. But after that night you have never seen him in the same way. Chapter Warning : Smoking (cigarettes) - mention of ex relationships AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/31877203/chapters/81748033

P I - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6

I made a playlist for this chapter but I suggest you listen to it after ! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3posJHlUg1XFJzQbPkjF0J

------

The crimson-haired man ceased to look at you, as if it hurt to do so. Your lack of response discouraged him. How could it be otherwise? You had created a narrative where he was a cheater, believed in it, ended the relationship - all of this without him knowing; without him even doubting it. It was ironic enough that he who saw so clearly in the future, he who knew how to read people’s moves so easily was totally blind when it came to love. Or maybe had he tried to blind himself? To overlook the fact that you weren’t answering your phone anymore? To find excuses upon excuses for you? He had always been that type of person after all. As a big brother, as a “responsible” person, it was second nature to him to bottle up his feelings and to never lose composure. And even in this moment, he couldn’t tell you how much your actions hurt him.

But for once, he accepted the fact that he saw a future that you weren’t a part of. Deep down, he knew that by overlooking the signs and hints, he has also played a role in the downfall of your relationship.

He saw it too clearly: you weren’t his anymore. Just like when you excluded him from the decision making, choosing to put an end to your relationship on your own - you didn’t even have the courage to tell him that yourself. He had to do the same: fill in the gaps and read between the lines. He remained silent for a moment. He got up from his seat when he gave up on you saying anything.

He moved towards the door, ready to leave all your shared memories behind his back.

People don’t always get the closure they need in order to move on, he knew that too well.

“Katakuri,” you called for his name weakly. He didn’t know if it was his imagination or if you had really pronounced his name. He turned his head towards you, unimpressed.

Your heart was pounding hard in your chest. You knew that if you let him go now you would regret it forever. You knew that you had to tell him about everything. He deserved it, after all. It was hard to be the bad guy of the story. But you had been a bitch and you had to face the consequences of your behavior. Wasn’t that what being an adult meant?

“There is something else that I think you need to know,” He seemed interested now. He was listening to you without turning your way.

“I apologize for everything that I have done and I know that you will probably not forgive me and honestly, if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't either.” You took a deep breath before going on. “What I am going to say might be hard to hear, but I feel like you need to know it.”

You don’t know exactly how the rest followed, nor how you found the courage to tell him about everything. You didn’t get to any details, it would have been too cruel, but you told him what he needed to know.

“I am really sorry, but I think that it’s best for us to split up. My feelings have changed, I have caused enough damage as it is. I think that it’s better for both of us. I am really sorry I hurt you.”

You looked down and from this angle you couldn’t see his smile. It was bitter, the smile of someone that had seen all of this coming. And yet, he was relieved that you confided in him. It was the closure he needed after all. At least now, he could move on.

* * *

The cigarette trembled between your index and middle finger. Your head was clouded. It took too much effort to try and empty your head, to try not to think of what was going to happen. You had lost so much already and what you were going to lose was beyond repair. With every breath you took, you felt your stomach contract and your legs get weaker. It was one of those days when you wished you hadn't woken up. Despite all of this, a feeling of peace submerged you. Peace? Maybe because you had been honest to your ex, maybe because you were trying to be honest to yourself. What got you into this situation was your indecision after all. You didn’t want to hide anymore.

If you can’t see it, then it doesn’t exist. This mentality of yours had to change and you were going to change it tonight. It was the best opportunity, it had to happen, you had to grow. Maybe to some extent, your “romantic” failures weren’t all to blame on others, maybe you also played a role, maybe you weren’t ready yet. Didn’t Sabo say the same thing?

“I thought that you stopped a long time ago.”

A firm voice broke your trance. His hand snitched the cigarette from your lips before putting it out with the sole of his shoe.

“Hey!” You whined in protest, features softening when you were met with his dark eyes.

“I did quit. But I was stressed,” you tried to justify yourself. “I needed it.” You mumbled.

“Bullshit. You always have the choice.” He shrugged and took place next to you on the sidewalk.

Choices, decisions, you were already done with all of this. An awkward silence swallowed the atmosphere, but it seemed as if it was only awkward for you.

Now that you had nothing to do with your fingers and mouth, you started scratching at your wrist slightly - a nervous tic.

The ambience of the park offered you, however, a feeling of safety. The darkness hid your embarrassment. He was now sitting next to you and it was as if words deserted your mind. He didn’t want to pressure you, he didn’t say anything. Under the moonlight, his blond hair took on a silvery shade. He kept looking in front of him, hands in his pockets. Silence didn’t bother him, he knew that something was wrong, otherwise you wouldn’t have texted him to come to the park at around midnight.

Truth is, you couldn’t calm down, you felt like you had to come clear about this whole situation, you felt like you had to make a decision. You felt that if you let today pass, then you would find one hundred excuses and hide again.

It was now or never.

“Sabo,” you started.

“Y/N,” he mirrored your answer.

“I’m going to tell you something... But please don’t judge me, alright?”

“Have I ever judged you?” He arched an eyebrow, his eyes meeting yours, making you switch your gaze almost instantly.

“Well... You have... Like that time I used the microwave at your place…”

“Y/N, you microwaved a fork…” You fake pouted as you playfully punched his arm.

“Well, the fork was in the bowl and Ace was there and he didn’t say anything! Not my fault.”

“And you trusted Ace?” he smiled and held your wrist to stop you. “He’s a living disaster. You guys can’t do anything without me, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah. What would I do without my Mr. know-it-all of a best friend?” you laughed it off.

Best friend. That word reminded you of the reason why you contacted him so late. You coughed two times, trying to switch his attention to you. Laughing things off helped ease the atmosphere. You twirled a hair strand around your finger then started as if you were going to give a speech.

“Hey, I’m gonna try to... be decisive…”

“That’s some character development.”

“Sabo!”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he said with a sweet smile. You sighed and started bouncing your leg nervously.

“So If I called you tonight it’s not to have the pleasure of your company… and it’s not to rip you off your precious hours of sleep... It’s also not to... ”

Noticing that you were starting to diverge from the topic, he held your hand in his softly and gave you an encouraging look. Honestly speaking, he didn’t have much patience around others but he had loads of it with you.

“I called you for something else. And don’t you dare hang up on me next time! I want to have a serious conversation about…everything, about us, and most importantly about…” you sighed before continuing “About my ex situation.”

He took his hand off yours now that you seemed calmer. He was surprised by your willingness to talk about such matters. It was a pleasant surprise to him, it meant that you wanted to take things in hand, that you were growing.

“I’m listening to you.”

“I thought that it was only fair for you to know as well... that I fucked up pretty badly. I assumed that my ex cheated on me and as it turns out, he didn’t. I just learned it this evening so I feel very confused and bad. It’s a long story. It was just me, assuming things because I was scared and because I feared confrontation. Then everything happened so fast between you and me... I shouldn’t have... I feel very ashamed. For him, for you, for acting so immature.”

Your voice cracked and you couldn’t hold your tears any more. You looked down and started wiping your tears with both hands on your face. You didn’t want to cry in front of him because you had caused him pain as well. Sometimes not taking action is also an action and it has consequences.

You didn’t dare look at him, did he look disappointed? Did he stop loving you? After all, you didn’t even know the reason behind his love. Maybe he was “playing games” too as that anon suggested on Reddit. No, you couldn’t afford to assume things again now. You had to be honest, raw, vulnerable. You couldn’t see his reaction through your tears, but you felt his hand on the top of your head, gently bringing you towards him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Wow, this really sucks.” You were surprised by his reaction, but the fact that it wasn’t one of disappointment as well as his easy-going demeanour released your stress. You started sobbing, shoulders shaking. He didn’t know how to react at first, but one thing he knew for sure: you came first, and he hated to see you cry.

“Shh... Here, here... It’s okay to cry... Let it all out...” He then continued “It’s going to turn out just fine. You can count on me, okay?”

“I was a really bad person. I should’ve acted differently. I should’ve at least told you... or Nami or someone... but I just... assumed things... I was so scared that you’d stop... that you’d stop being my... friend... And stop loving me…”

His grip tightened around your shoulder as he pressed you a bit closer to him. He offered you a warm smile as he spoke in the same light note.

“Well, whatever happened, happened. I don’t think that you are a bad person. You’re human and you made a mistake that you’re now aware of. I know that you had no ill intentions. At least you learned something, hm? And about me... Aren’t you underestimating me a bit?” He smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Did you forget that I’m Luffy and Ace’s brother? I’m tough, you know.”

You were overwhelmed by his kindness, and this just made you realize that it wasn’t only about your feelings, you couldn’t count on everyone else to put up with you and clear up your mess.

“Sabo, you’re so kind.” Despite your mascara running under your eyes and you looking like a total mess, he found you incredibly beautiful. He felt proud, he knew how hard it was for you to go through all of this. He felt like it was worth it that he had loved you for this long, you were honest and strong, even if you weren’t aware of that strength, you had proven it in this moment.

“I’m not being kind.” He meant it; after all, his intentions weren’t all that innocent towards you, he had wanted you from the start. “I’m just being truthful, as your best friend.”

Maybe he wanted more, but he was content being your friend as well. Since for him everything needed time, he had no right to rush you.

Love is a matter of timing after all. Too fast and all of his subtle efforts would go to waste.

“About that... I mean... The “best friends” part...” He could easily see your chest heaving with your breath. Your heartbeat raising little by little until it was unbearable, your lower lip slightly trembling as you dreaded the weight of the words you were going to pronounce. He looked at you with genuine interest and curiosity; he laid off a bit, turning your way.

“I don’t think that we could act this way anymore...” You dug your nails into the palm of your hand nervously.

“I... told Katakuri about everything. I told him that I couldn’t be with him anymore because of how things have changed. I can’t be here and pretend that nothing happened when so much did…”

“Nothing has changed for me.” He said in a stable voice, trying to anticipate your reaction. Despite being sure of himself, of every step he had taken till now, he felt a hint of uncertainty, for this was a variable that he hadn’t taken into consideration.

“But everything changed for me, and I can’t ignore it. I can’t continue to play pretend... Of course it was convenient for me... And I didn’t wanna lose... Whatever it is that we have. But I didn’t realize that it had already changed. I can’t be your friend anymore, Sabo. Not like this. Not with these thoughts in mind. Not after…” Y our eyes flicked from his lips to his eyes and back. “After... everything we did.”

You didn’t give more reasons, but your eyes gave one hundred more.

We can’t be friends because I touched myself to the thought of you. Because I can’t help but think about being with you. Because I don’t stand the thought of you being with someone else. Because I love the way your arms fit around me. Because I love everything about you, from the way you say my name to these stupid blond eyelashes that reflect the light everytime you blink. And most importantly... because I love your way of loving me unconditionally.

As much as I want you...

As much as you want me back...

I can’t be with you, not now, because it would hurt me and hurt you even more, because I have to make a decision, because I can’t draw the line between love and lust and because I am afraid to wrong you in the way I was wronged.

But just for a moment, just for this time, you wanted to kiss him just one last time. You wanted to get intoxicated by that mint smell that you have grown addicted to. He looked at you as he drank your words, eyes reflecting the darkness of the sky. His piercing gaze seemed to understand your dilemma. Suddenly, the emptiness of the park felt too weighty and the air too heavy.

“Say something,” you pleaded, almost begging him to break the silence.

To words, he preferred actions. Before you even realized, he captured your lips into the kiss you were longing for. His hand was fast to encircle your back, pressing your upper body against his. Your fingers instinctively reached for the fabric of his shirt, tugging on it as to pull him closer. For him to kiss you so passionately, it only made you realize his burning desire for you. The more you kissed in an attempt to ease your craving, the hungrier you got for his lips, for his stupid minty taste. But it wasn’t nearly enough for you, the growing warmth and tingles created a desire that you were unable to appease yet. You pressed your legs together when his free hand gently rubbed your thigh. He kissed you deeply, almost willing you into giving up on your decision to give in to his embrace. He was indeed that good of a kisser, making you want to shift into his lap and have him inside of you. You whined at this thought growing more eager, tongue chasing his, teeth nibbling on his lips. But you eventually had to break the kiss, even when you prayed for the seconds to last for hours, it was bound to end. You took a moment to collect your breath again. His eyes were demanding, pupils dilated and greedy, yours were more modest, shifty.

“Looked like you were dying for it.”

He broke the silence, finger tracing your neck before lifting up your chin, making you lose composure as you looked into his deep gaze. It was too late to deny it, you were indeed dying for it. But instead of satiating you, that kiss felt like the promise of something forbidden. You only groaned meekly as an answer, feeling too weak to actively protest. You indulged in his embrace, resting your head in the crease of his neck. You breathed in his scent, even his hair smelled fresh like mint. As you took in a bigger gulp of air, you could inhale the subtleties of a thyme or violet underlying smell. What shampoo did he use? Another diverging thought that you discarded.

You closed your eyes. “Can we stay like this for a little longer?” you asked, and who was he to deny you so little? He revelled in your desperate need for his touch. He felt needed, wanted, but he knew that he shouldn’t get carried away, he knew that it wasn’t the right timing yet. So he just let you sink into his warmth. For now.

You peeled yourself off of him reluctantly. Your eyes avoided his. Nice progress ,he thought, but there was still need for improvement.

“I can’t be selfish, not anymore. I have to make a decision. I am sorry I can’t make up my mind yet.” Your voice cut through the silence, firm, yet not devoid of sensitivity.

You needed time, it was clear, but he was nothing if not patient with you. He was ready to settle for your friendship for now while he worked for your love, but he liked your idea more. He wasn’t one to push his emotions onto you, he was there to lead the dance, to toss a bottle into the sea. If good news came then good for him, if nothing came out then he had gambled and lost. But he wasn’t as detached and passive as things might have seemed, as he took multiple variables into consideration to place his best bet.

“Take all the time you need.” Not an ounce of annoyance was to be detected in his voice. It was steady, a rock that couldn’t be moved. He had what it took, he knew what he wanted and he was ready to wait for it because he had the deep belief that you were worth the wait.

“Why are you so patient? Don’t you think you’re too confident? Aren’t you scared? ” It was genuine curiosity, but you bit your tongue realizing that your words might’ve seemed cocky or doubting. His lips stretched into a roguish smile, making him devastatingly handsome. And here he was, a Sabo that you had encountered a few times between two eyelash beats. It was so destabilizing, the way he morphed into a totally different person from one second to another, giving you a strange feeling. It was something that you couldn’t fully place yet. He kept escaping from your grip while being totally still. He was like sand between your fingers and you were fascinated by the prospect of catching him.

“I thought that it was obvious, doll.” Here he goes again, calling you sweet names and raising the rhythm of your heartbeats. How did he make everything sound good? You would’ve scoffed at anyone else calling you ‘doll’, but that voice of his made it sound oh so appealing. Or maybe it was the seed of desire that he had planted in your core, that was now growing and blossoming, vines intertwining with your lungs.

He got closer again, black eyes scrutinizing yours.

“You can have all the time you need. What I want is simple, non-negotiable, immutable.”

At first he was startled; your ex appearing out of nowhere seemed like an inconvenience, but after giving it some thought, he realized that he was in luck. He didn’t have to make you choose, the choice was there for you to make.

“And what is it that you want?”

“You. But all of you.” He looked you up and down as he said this then got up. He wasn’t the type to settle for less. He wanted no compromises, no half-open doors, no half assed answers. If he wanted something then it was all of it, out of respect for you and for himself. Another reason was probably that he knew: the longer the chase, the bigger the prize.

He got up since he considered that the conversation was over now and it was also getting late. You looked at him, eyes wide open, cheeks aflame. His voice trailed off, cutting through the silence.

“No rush, I think that it’s better for you to focus on your exams for now. Will you manage without my help?” Another charming smile, shifting back to that playful Sabo you have always known. The mood felt less serious now.

“I think I’ll do just fine this time…” you smiled gently, following his lead.

“Good, then. Good night.” He put his hand on your head, softly ruffling your hair before turning back. He seemed a bit more distant now, like he was plunged into some deep reverie. You instinctively got up, looking intensely at his back slowly fading into the darkness. Before his silhouette got completely enveloped, you shouted.

“Sabo!”

He turned back instantly and you threw something in the air towards him. He was quick to catch it.

“I don’t think I need these anymore. Take them!”

He opened his hands, looking at the packet of menthol cigarettes and a blue lighter. He put it into his back pocket prior to giving you a proud smile. He then continued his way back home, leaving you behind. You felt both relieved because things had gotten a bit clearer, yet apprehensive since your feelings were still very much unclear. But maybe what you felt above all was exhaustion. You looked for a moment at your empty hands. Did you make the right choice? Whether it was good or bad, you couldn’t care less. At least you had acted true to yourself.

tag list : @chloenanami @mwls-garden @soanywaysistartedsimping @portgaslari @lofi-coffee @donvampiro @fishandfuck @vemuabhi @gabrielasalazar18 @kiriechanx

#slow and steady #sabo x reader #sabo the revolutionary #one piece x reader #one piece sabo #sabo #one piece imagines #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #sabo x you #sabo imagines #revolutionary sabo #charlotte katakuri #katakuri x reader

[autumnsart22]

Gaming with Shigaraki

Heyyy! So I know literally nothing about video games except for like, Wizard 101 🥲 I tried my best to write it accurately, but sorry if it ended up like shit. 

Art creds go to @ludosartstuff. Go check them out, they’re super talented!

You had been part of the League of Villains for exactly six months, and yet you barely knew a single thing about your leader--Tomura Shigaraki. You knew he hated to lose, and that he acted like a child much of the time. You knew he could dissolve people with his bare hands. You knew he hated heroes, especially All Might. But that was just about it. 

It’s not like you were particularly interested. Everyone in the League had their secrets, you included. He wasn’t obligated to share. But it felt strange to you that while you knew Dabi’s favorite food was hot soba, and you knew Toga weirdly liked cat plushies, you didn’t know a single personal thing about Shigaraki. He always opted out of the nights when you would all hang out, watching movies or training, and you had rarely had any conversations one on one. 

Which was why you were so surprised when you quite literally slammed into him at 3 in the morning one night, after you had deliriously stumbled to the bathroom to relieve your poor blatter. 

“O-oh!” You stopped in front of him, shaking the sleep from your eyes as you tried to focus. “Sorry.” 

Shigaraki stood in front of you, dressed in grey sweatpants and a black sweatshirt, his blue hair all messed up. He didn’t look the least bit tired, his red eyes bright with annoyance as he glared down at you. 

“What are you doing?” He hissed, and you held up your hands. 

“Um. Peeing?” 

He snorted, and you noticed a glass of water in his hands, one finger carefully lifted to keep it from dissolving. 

“What are you doing still awake? Don’t we have a big mission tomorrow?” You asked. 

“And?” 

“I mean...shouldn’t you sleep?” 

“I’m fine.” He went to push past you, and you realized that you were right next to his bedroom, the door wide open. 

Being an assassin, it was partially your job to be nosy, which was why you didn’t feel too bad as you blatantly poked your head towards the doorway to peek into his room. To your utter astonishment, there was a large screen set up with an advanced looking console placed in front of it, a familiar video game icon blinking from the center. 

“What the-- You play (whatever video game you want lol)?”

Shigaraki whirled around, furious to see you entering his room uninvited, but he paused as he took in the excitement on your face. 

“Yes...do you?” He sounded very skeptical, making you cross your arms. 

“Yes. I haven’t been able to play in ages though.” 

You looked at him sidelong, and Shigaraki glared. “No way. You’re not touching my stuff.” 

“Come on! Just one round.” 

“Weren’t you the one who said we had a big mission tomorrow?” 

“Yeah but…” You pursed your lips, staring at the screen longingly.

Shigaraki looked like he was moments away from murdering you, but for some reason you knew he wasn’t going to turn you to dust. For one thing, you were useful to the team, and for another, you didn’t think he was really that mad. 

“Let me finish this round,” he snapped, and you grinned, seating yourself on the rugged floor next to him. Now that you were fully inside, you could see that the rest of his room was a complete mess, stacked with wrappers and dirty clothes. 

“Ugh, you should clean in here,” you murmured, and Shigaraki glared. 

“You invited yourself to my room, and now you’re telling me to clean it? I should kill you right now.” 

You held up your hands again, fighting a smile. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t realize it was such a sensitive topic. 

“Tch.” 

You lapsed into silence as he picked up the controller, and you noticed that he wore a pair of gloves that left his thumbs open so he wouldn’t dissolve the console. 

As he clicked resume on the screen, he wiggled the controller expertly in his hands, making his avatar within the screen jump off a large building and shoot someone in the air. 

You watched in wide eyed admiration as he destroyed the game,  mouth falling open during a particularly tense moment when three different gunmen came at him at once. You gasped out loud as you watched his avatar duck and roll, shooting them one after the other in quick succession before sprinting towards the nearest building to get out of view of any snipers. 

You had played this game a while ago, but you had never even been close to this level of good. He must have been playing for years. 

Shigaraki ended up winning with almost three thousand points, which made your jaw drop when you realized the average score. 

“Ok, give it to me,” you said, suddenly impatient, and he handed over the controller a bit reluctantly. 

He showed you what each of the buttons meant, since you had always used a keyboard rather than a console, but as the game started, you continuously slammed into a wall, unable to get your avatar to move around it. 

“What the fuck!!! No no, AHHH--” A shooter came up from behind you and shot you in the head. 

Game Over: 0 points. 

“WHAT,” You practically yelled, outraged. Shigaraki was gaping at you, and you glared back at him. “It was my first try, ok? I haven’t played in a while.” 

You ended up playing three more rounds, all of them ending in under five minutes. The most points you got was 120, but you still bragged about it endlessly, dancing around the room in excitement. 

“A literal child could have done better than you,” Shigaraki snapped, but his lips were twitching. 

“No one asked your opinion.” You stuck out your tongue. 

“Do you want me to show you how it’s done?” He stuck out his hand for the controller, and you took the perfect opportunity. 

“Yes actually,” You smirked, marching over and plopping yourself directly in his lap. I heard him make a noise of horror and shock, and you looked over your shoulder up at him. “Can you show me how?”

You grinned in satisfaction as you saw his face flushed red, his eyes wide, but after a long moment, he relaxed as his long arms slid around your waist. His hands (which were still in the gloves) were gigantic compared to yours, and easily enveloped your fingers as he held the controller with you. You leaned back against his chest, and you felt him shudder slightly. 

“Um. You just--” he cleared his throat, and you tried not to laugh. 

You ended up winning with significantly less points than his first round, but it was still ten times the amount you had gotten on your own. 

“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” You grinned, leaning your face back to find him only an inch away. 

“Yeah you—you’re improving.” His eyes flickered to your lips, and you felt your heart stutter.

Before you could catch your breath, he jabbed you in the side, making you shriek and fall off his lap. 

“You can’t just tickle a person like that!” You gasped, rubbing where he had poked you, and Shigaraki rolled his eyes. 

“Only weak people are ticklish.” 

“WOAH THERE, you’re talking about like...the whole population.” 

“Not me.” 

“Well, we all knew you were weird.” 

You argued the whole night, passing the controller back and forth between rounds until you fell asleep sitting up, still smiling. 

In the morning, you found yourself slumped on the floor, curled in one of Shigaraki’s blankets. The League of Villains leader himself was also asleep, controller still in his hands. 

“Shigaraki,” you whispered, and he jolted. 

“Huh?” He looked around blearily before his eyes came to rest on you again. “What the fuck are you still doing here?” 

You shrugged. “Who cares. Don’t we have a mission?” 

“Shit.” He scrambled to his feet, and you followed him out his door into the hall...where Toga, Dabi, and Mr. Compress were standing as if about to knock. 

“Uh--” Mr. Compress blinked, while Dabi’s eyes moved between you and Shigaraki slowly. Toga just burst into manic laughter. 

“Damn. Didn’t realize you two were fucking.” Dabi’s voice was slow, and you flushed bright red. 

“W-what? That’s not--”

Shigaraki was already heading away, not even bothering to explain, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Whatever.” 

#Shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #video games #shiggy #league of villains #lov #fluff #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #mha #my hero academia #my hero #tomurashigaraki #tomura fluff

[courtlyharlequin]

Breathing Room

Warnings: fluff, no plot just brainrot,  lowkey horn knee, feral and angry Taku coming from nine o’clock because I squeezed too much of her favorite tropes into this

Summary: Humans are strange. Their hobbies and customs are bewildering, but nothing Jade couldn’t handle as he was quick to adapt. Sometimes, he might even partake in said activities. Case in point with hiking. And you, knowing Jade for a decent amount of time as his significant other, came to terms with the fact that he would decline a request to participate in something that didn’t pique his interest. So when you proposed that he play the pocky game with you, you were certain that he would decline. But he didn’t.

A/N: Happy birthday to the Jade simp, @takuyakistall​~! I’m so sorry that this was posted late but you’re already wary of that and thank you for supporting me through such a tough time. Ahhh life just doesn’t want me to simp for my hair wife! I tell you this a lot but I’ll say it again: I’m quite attached to you since you were my first tumblr friend. I didn’t have any in real life or online friends who like twst before meeting you so you mean a lot to me as my first. You always make me laugh whether it be bullying you or rotting over our mains together. Even when we get serious, I still love talking to you. You’re that amazing.  I hope you have an amazing day, one just as amazing as you are. Eat lots of cake and pocky. I love you ♡

“Jade,” you said, tugging at his sleeves.

He sighed through his strained smile as he set down a glass he was polishing. He tucked his hair behind his ear and dusted off his slacks as if he was brushing away invisible crumbs off the garment. It was an ungodly hour. He was working overtime for Mostro Lounge. Today was unusually busy. As vice prefect, Jade took it upon himself to bite off more than he could chew. And he could chew a lot actually. He was a moray eel with two sets of jaws and an immense appetite. In his human form, he only had one set of jaws yet the appetite remained.

The lounge was deserted. Students shuffled to the mirror chambers and headed to their respective dorms to retire for the night. Jade, on the other hand, was sitting on a barstool with an array of glasses and creased brows. You sat by his side, doing your assignments and engaging him in idle chatter here and there. He had promised to help you with your alchemy homework, but alas his duties called for him. In a way. You didn’t mind per se since he helped you understand the material within minutes during his short-lived breaks.

They were about three minutes long and Jade only took two breaks ever since his shift started. You weren’t an expert at reading people like he was, but even you could tell he could use some rest or a pick-me-up at least. Perhaps the latter. Jade was stubborn. He wasn’t going to head to his bedroom until he was done.

“Yes, (y/n)?”

You reached into your book bag and pulled out a small box of biscuits– pocky to be exact. You held it in front of his gaze. He cocked his head.

“Let’s play the pocky game.”

“Maybe later. We can play after I finish. Or tomorrow. It’s late so you should return to your living quarters and get some rest,” Jade said as he turned his attention to his task.

“Please? Think of it as a break. Your last one was about three hours ago.”

“Well, if you put it like that then I shall indulge you, my dear.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as he spun the barstool to make direct eye contact with you. You avoided his gaze as you opened the box, selecting a random stick of pocky and holding it in front of him. He took it and examined it with a perplexed expression.

“What is this?”

“Pocky.”

“Which is?”

“It’s like a cookie biscuit thing with a chocolate covering,” you said, getting yourself your own stick.

“I see. So this ‘pocky’ edible.”

“Yes,” you nodded, biting the pocky.

He mirrored your actions. You watched him chew it thoroughly. His eyes wandered around the ceiling of the lounge. You held your breath as he closed his eyes and exhaled.

“It’s delectable.”

Your shoulders relaxed and he chuckled under his breath. It would have been disappointing if Jade didn’t like pocky. That would mean you couldn’t persuade him to play the pocky game. You looked into his eyes lovingly while he nibbled on the remainder of the stick.

“And what is ‘the pocky game’?” Jade mused.

You took out another biscuit. His brows arched as you waited for him to swallow the last bit of his current pocky stick.

“The objective of the game is to be the last to hold onto the stick as we each take a bite and move closer to the center. Whoever is the last to pull away wins. You take one end and I’ll take the other. I’ll let you have the chocolate end because it’s your first time playing.”

“My, my how kind of you. I almost thought you were the headmaster. All you needed was to comment on your kindness.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned.

He brought his hand to chin. He feigned curiosity.

“Though… if you wanted to kiss me you could have just said, (y/n),” Jade gave you a toothy grin, ones he shot at the poor unfortunate freshmen souls that tried to escape the conditions of Octavinelle’s yearly exam contracts before chasing them down the hallways with his brother.

“I-I.. It would be more fun?”

“I jest, my pearl. There’s no shame in wanting to engage in intimacy. I shall indulge you. Though, I have a feeling that I will win every round– seeing as you get flustered even when I embrace you without warning fufu~”

There was not a shred of innocence in his voice. Jade knew where this was going. He was going to do everything in his power to win. He was good at that sort of thing, small ministrations that drove you wild.

When he found out that you were sensitive to neck kisses, chaste or not, he greeted you every morning outside of your first period threshold with a peck on the side of your neck. The first time he did that, you were reduced to a puddle of empty thoughts, a spasm of spiraling emotions and heated cheeks. The following incidents featured your hand instinctively shooting to the spot he kissed, cheeks still hot and bothered. When you had adapted to his rhythm, he kissed your neck in the halls, during lunch, and when he walked you back to your dorm. They were spontaneous and sporadic. They ceased when winter began and you wore a scarf around your neck all day, every day. Of course, that was months ago. The routine faded as your relationship developed. Jade had his share of teasing and came to understand that setting your nerves on fire on a daily basis despite your protests wasn’t exactly healthy. He also came to understand how people might get the wrong idea from neck kisses. He teased you for hours on end for being so lewd, but digressed when you were on the verge of tears due to embarrassment. That didn’t stop his other methods of teasing, but at least you were free from public surprise neck kisses.

Jade loved to tease. He was good at it too. He knew you and your ticks like the back of his hand. You were certainly going to lose this game, but it was better not to let your true feelings show and give him the upper hand.

You inserted the biscuit between Jade’s lips and took a deep breath before taking your end. It was more so a hybrid of a deep breath and a yawn. It was late after all.

Jade’s eyes widened and the stick broke in half. Your eyes widened as well.

“You’re supposed to hold onto the stick for a long as you can, silly.”

He closed his eyes: “Yes, my bad. Shall we try again?”

“One to zero,” you said as you slipped a biscuit into his lips.

“Did that count?”

“Of course it does.”

He pouted as you inhaled and exhaled deeply before taking your end of the pocky. It snapped immediately.

“Jade,” you whined, drawing out the last syllable of his name.

“Apologies, my dear. It seems to be instinctive for me to bite the stick.”

“You can bite. It’s just that the pocky keeps breaking in half whenever you bite it. Maybe try to be more gentle?”

“Two to zero.”

“You’re so cruel, (y/n).”

You giggled as you handed him the stick. He pursed his lips and held the stick out for you to take a bite from your end. You closed our eyes and opened your mouth to take a deep breath once more and the stick snapped before you knew it.

You looked up at Jade to see the pocky awkwardly sticking out of his hand which was covering his face. Mostro Lounge’s dim lights made it difficult to make out many details, but you were positive that Jade Leech was profusely blushing.

“Jade?”

“C-Could you not do that*?”

“Do what?”

What could have possibly reduced him to such an adorable state? He’s usually so composed. He was never this flustered. Out of all the times you tried to get him to break, he was resilient. And here you were, not having any idea as to what you did to make him blush.

“O-Open your mouth.”

“Pardon?”

A yawn escaped from your lips. Jade spun the bar stool around and stared at the glasses with sudden interest.

“Could you not do that?”

“Yawn?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

He mumbled something under his breath.  

“Jade?”

“(y/n), you should have just asked for a kiss.”

The eel stood up curtly from his seat. He towered over you and his eyes glowed in the dark lighting. He pulled out a pocky stick from the box in your petite hands and slipped it in between your lips. There was a small pause before he came crashing down. If he hadn’t been holding your shoulders so firmly, you might’ve fell over from the force that he exerted. He came barreling towards your lips. You weren’t sure if he had even bit the pocky. You felt it snap, but when you parted your mouth to allow his tongue to entangle with yours, you could not find a single trace of the biscuit. The flavor lingered in his mouth, but the pocky itself was nonexistent. Did he swallow it whole?

He did not leave your mind to wander too far from him. He kissed you hungrily and nipped at your lips. His sharp teeth grazed your flesh and you mewled into the kiss. You could hear him growl faintly as he held onto your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He tiled your head for a better angle. You pushed him away. You needed to catch your breath.  A string of saliva fell from your lips.

“Jade,” you gasped as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck.

“It would be in your best interest if you don’t do that again, especially during mating season. I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself next time. I might break you in half, dearest.”

Your cheeks flushed as you nodded absentmindedly. Mating season?

He bit your neck.You yelped and wriggled out of his embrace.

“Jade!” you hissed, clutching your neck.

“Consider that a small price to pay,” he chuckled.

You huffed.

“I win this time,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah…”

He packed the glasses onto a shelf.

“You’re free to go now. I’ve finished here so you don’t have to keep me company anymore. Would you like me to escort you?”

“No, it’s fine,” you said, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

“Goodnight, Jade. See you tomorrow.”

Though you had agreed not to yawn, it escaped your lips. Luckily, your back was facing Jade as you exited the lounge so he didn’t see you yawn, but rather heard you yawn. You heard a distant bang on the counter as well as a faint “dammit” from a voice you knew all too well.

It took every fiber in your body to restrain yourself from turning around. You knew all too well that if you turned around, he would’ve rushed towards you and snapped you in half just like a pocky stick. It was best to give him a little breathing room even if you were hot and bothered yourself.

*Note: To initiate the mating process, moray eels open their mouths very wide at each other to signal the start of it. This trait carries over to when (y/n) yawns as Jade took it as a sign for his eel-y instincts.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By the king’s hand 🐍 II

Warnings: warnings to be added as we progress but this series may contain non-consent, violence, death, and other triggers.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You attend king Loki’s coronation but the night ends precariously.

Note: I still don’t know what I’m doing. I’m tryna keep up but tbh I am gonna be working a lot so updates might be inconsistent for the time being.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

There were no windows in the dungeons. No time. No life.

Just you and the distant sounds of your fellow prisoners. A thick iron door closed you in the stone cell, a single slot let in a sliver of torchlight and your sole meal each day. A bowl of thin broth and a heel of moldy bread. You ate out of need though often regretted it as your stomach churned. You counted the days by the bowls but could not be certain how long you languished.

You smelled of sweat and the cell; dank and dingy. You slept sitting up, rarely at that, and filled the time with thoughts of doom. Of regrets and remonstrances. You should have let Gilla go on her own, but could you live with the thought of her in your place? You should have stopped her and dragged her home. You should have climbed faster. You should have accepted death over this monotonous purgatory.

There was nothing you could do. It was over. You assured your own fate in your words. Your want to mock and appease the king’s pride had led you to error. The word, that one you’d never spoken before, a dagger on your tongue; ‘beholden’. Was that what you were? What your imprisonment was? Your debt to your king.

Your feet were bare, damp, and cold. You recalled losing your clogs on the palace lawn. Your tunic felt thin and your pants clung uncomfortably to your legs. You kept your arms crossed over your knees as you sat in the corner. Sometimes your head would law and you would sink into a few moments of hazy slumber. Glimpses of life beyond the dungeon, of memories, sunlight and the kiss of pollen in your nose. But when you awoke, your prison only seemed darker and smaller. 

You heard yourself snoring as you dozed, your head heavy with exhaustion. The eerie nose of your snorts and snarls were quieted by the sudden metallic schlock as gears were turned by a key. You woke with a start, dizzy and confused. The door pushed inward and the clink of the guards armour underlined the grind of the hinges. 

A tall shadow entered, a length of cloth hung from his shoulders, a fine cape that suddenly shone as the guard hung a torch in the ring along the wall. The king walked cautiously around the confined space as if he would be tainted by your filth.

You uncrossed your arms and braced the wall. You struggled to stand as you shook away the sleep from your head. You groaned and staggered as you pushed your feet under you and stood. He chuckled as he stilled and watched your struggle.

“While I appreciate the effort, little mouse, it is expected that one bows to their king.” He mused.

You took a breath and stepped away from the wall. You did your best to bow but as you straightened up, your head swam. The torchlight made your eyes water and you felt as if you were trapped in some wretched dream.

“Are you unwell?” He asked tauntingly.

“Well enough, your majesty,” you answered, even if he held no true concern.

“I must apologize, I have been distracted by my kingly duties.” His green eyes clung to you as slowly the fog slaked away from your mind. They seemed brighter as the flame flickered along the wall. “I did not have the chance to consider your sentence.”

You swallowed and narrowed your eyes. You were slightly perplexed. You blinked and glanced around. “A cell, a meal, my life. I cannot bemoan my lot. Is it not what I asked for, your majesty?”

His lips curved wryly and he shook his head. “Ah, so you think that is your fate. That this hole is to be your existence?” He strode from wall to wall and grimaced. “Did I not agree to mercy?”

“You sent me here…” you uttered, “Your majesty, you said you would spare my life.”

“And I shall. I have.” He faced you again, “I have thought on what this new life should entail for you.”

You wrinkled your nose as you tried to untangle his words. He spoke in riddles and you were untrained in logic. You were no solicitor nor privileged enough to look upon a page. You folded your hands before you and waited for his explanation. You were realising how this man enjoyed the noise of his own voice.

“I thought of the laundries, the kitchens, the stables, even perhaps, a chambermaid to one of my lords or ladies. Consider that any position on my staff is one of prestige for any of your ilk. And I thought that a fine show of mercy but then… I thought more. You see, my staff is well-furnished, I would say I have an excess of servants. Too many hands for one broom.” He paused slid his tongue along his bottom lip. “Those wardens of my staff assured me of this conclusion.”

You watched him warily. He was playing with you. A cat dangling it’s wriggling prey as it considered how to devour it. A snake, rather.

“I will admit, that alongside the many duties that delayed me was this conundrum. This puzzle without a solution,” he continued as he took a step towards you. You resisted the urge to retreat or shy away from him. That was what he expected. “What do I do with this life thrust upon me? On the one I did promise my first act of mercy?”

You stared back at him as he neared. He was close. You smelled the earthy oils rubbed in his hair, the soft scent of gardenia that softened his musk. You bit down as you swallowed your impatience.

“It would not be just for you to serve another, as it were. That was not our barter. You swore yourself to me. And so I did ponder how exactly you might serve me…” His lashes flicked as his eyes descended briefly. “Your fashion does make one almost forget what lay beneath.”

You squirmed as his gaze returned to your face and your realised his meaning; salacious and repulsive. Your body went rigid as a deep sigh forced itself from your lungs.

“My own father kept a bed warmer for years. Especially in those years after my mother’s death.” He said coyly.

You glared at him and took a step back, you weren’t far between him and the wall. 

“I’d rather the cell,” you sneered.

He snickered and came closer. You continued backward until you met the stone. He leaned in until his nose almost met yours. “I’m not asking, little mouse. I am come to deal your sentence.”

“Then I refuse your mercy and would take the noose,” you insisted. “If mercy is what you would call it.”

“It is an honour for any, even the most dignified lady, to please her king,” his fingers crawled along the tails of your tunic and pressed more firmly to your hips, “It is more than mer--”

Your hand flew up before you could think. His touch made you recoil and his words reminded you of the sour broth you had gulped down only hours ago. He was stunned by the strike across his cheek but he stayed close. He winced only slightly as his eyes flared. His hand was at your throat in an instant.

“Don’t you fret, little mouse, I like the game,” he snarled, “And I suspect you will give me quite the chase.”

His hot breath grazed your lips as he held you against the wall. He stared you down and let out a fractured huff. He squeezed until your head swelled and released you sharply.

“If you do so prefer this cell, then you can remain.” He waved his fingers casually as he backed away, “The cell and nothing more.”

He felt along his belt and slowly revealed a long dagger as the metal whispered against the leather sheath. You gaped at the blade and as he came closer, you could not hide your fear. He pushed your hand away as you tried to keep him from you.

“If you resist, you will bloody yourself,” he scowled as he grabbed the collar of your tunic. “So be still.”

He hooked the dagger inside your tunic and tore through the fabric. The blade easily sliced open the wool and caught in your belt, only to snap it just as swiftly. You gasped as he shoved the fabric away from your shoulders. Your undershirt was thin and just as easily shorn away. You looked away as your shame seared across your flesh.

He was rough as he cut away your leggings and had you naked before him. You tried to cover yourself as he replaced his dagger at his belt. He grabbed your arms and pulled them above you as he gazed down at your naked form.

“Your first lesson, little mouse.” He slithered, “You must not strike your king.”

He smirked and dropped your arms. He turned and went to the door. He rapped with two knuckles and called for the guard. You sidled to the corner and crouched down as the door was opened. The guard appeared and the king directed him to collect your shredded clothing. 

“Bastard,” you whispered under your breath as the king made to leave. He stopped for a moment but said nothing before he passed into the corridor.

The guard took the armful of wool and cotton and retrieved the torch from the wall. You were shut up in the dark once more, shivering and shamed. You hung your head and cursed.

You could blame Gilla for getting you into this mess, but you were the one digging yourself deeper.

🐍

The meals still came but were harder to eat. You were always cold, always awake, always hungry, and yet always nauseous. You paced to keep warm, to keep your body from growing stiff, but often found yourself huddled once more in the corner.

When the door opened again, after maybe another week, maybe longer, maybe less, you didn’t move. It didn’t matter. The torch was set in the ring and the armoured steps neared you. There were two guards this time. The wrestled you to your feet and clasped your hands in a pair of shackles. You were turned to face the wall as the chain was secured to a hook above you. 

Your chest pressed to the cold stone as you hung on tiptoes. A gauntleted hand brushed your ass and you kicked blindly behind you.

“King’s property,” the second guard reproached, “He’ll have your hand.”

“Wench isn’t that pretty,” the other growled, “If I was king, I’d have a duchess every night.”

“You’re not king, thank the lord.” The men retreated to the door and left it ajar behind them.

You tried to free the shackles from the hook but only dangled weakly below. You knew it could not be a good omen. These were king’s orders. You could only expect that you were due for another visit.

As if your thought summoned him, you heard the soft swish of silk. His shadow flickered in the torchlight as he entered. You did not bother to look back. The king stopped feet from you as you watched his silhouette on the stone.

“I will forgive you this time for your lack of a bow,” he declared, “But know that it will be expected.”

He came closer and you shifted on your toes.

“You might utter a simple ‘your majesty’,” he warned.

“Your majesty,” you recited as your shoulder strained. You closed your eyes as you balled your hands.

“I am not one to expound upon my past but I think it prudent at this moment.” He paced behind you and his shadow flickered on your eyelids. “What was that darling little word you called me? ‘Bastard’?”

You cringed and exhaled. “Your majesty.”

“That was what you said? Correct?”

“Yes, your majesty,” you admitted.

He laughed, darkly, and his footsteps ceased.

“I am a second born son. I was a prince, not an heir. None expected me to come upon the throne. That word, that title, bastard, was my lot in life. Not because I was born too late, but because I did not share the golden hair of my family or truly any of their traits. That word was said to a child no more than five years old, and repeated until this very day.” You felt a tickle along your ass and a shiver rolled up your spine. “However most have the sense to whisper it beyond my hearing.” He pressed the cattail to your flesh and you felt the leather straps clearly, “Most.”

He pulled back and lashed you without pause. You bit your lip as you muffled a cry and threw your head back. He inhaled deeply and once more teased your skin with the limp straps.

“I don’t expect an apology. That means little from the lips of a peasant.” He said. “What I expect is discipline; obedience.” He rescinded the cattail again, “I came to hear you scream.”

He whipped you again and you pressed your forehead to the cold wall and whimpered. The shackles tinkled as you swayed on your tiptoes and he struck you once more. You grunted and gulped down a shriek. Perhaps it would be easier to scream, to give him what he wanted, but to think he had never been denied a luxury in his life, fed your obstinacy. If he wanted you to bend, you would not do so easily.

A fourth time, a fifth, a sixth. Your eyes welled and you lost count as you felt your skin split. He laid out the lashes across your back, your ass, and your thighs. The pain made you delirious as your head lolled and the strength drained from your body. You hung prone to his wrath.

When at last you cried out, you didn’t realise. It didn’t sound like you. You didn’t even feel the scream as it tore through your throat. You only knew that the assault had stopped. That blood and sweat trickled down your back.

He sighed, content. He came closer, slowly, and planted his hands on either side of you as he leaned in. He spoke against the back of your ear.

“You have a tough hide, little mouse,” he purred, “This will be more delightful than I ever expected.” He brushed your neck with his fingers, “Another lesson.”

He pushed himself away and you listened to the soft pad of his boots. You opened your eyes at last as the torch was smothered and the door clanged loudly into place. You were left as you were, bleeding and hung like some animal. Like a slab of meat before a feast.

How long would it be before the king supped on you?

🐍

You didn’t recall being let down. You only recalled the pain that roused you. The burning along your back and legs. The smell of brown broth that made you wretch from across the cell. The cold that made you shiver as it met your hot flesh. Your teeth chattered and you could not still yourself as your entire body quaked.

When the guard grabbed the bowl through the low slot of the door, the untouched broth spilled. The moldy bread remained in the puddle and you heard the grumble from the other side. When the next appeared, it was met with the same disgust. It was removed, as full as it arrived. A third and you were trapped in a cloud that grew thicker with each bat of your lashes.

When you woke again, you were no longer in the cell. The pain remained; greater as your back was wiped clean with wet linen. You murmured but could do nothing as you laid on your side and sank back into obscurity.

You blinked and there was a cloth on your forehead, the smell of herbs, and the hot taste as the heady brew was poured down your throat. Sleep again. A fever of frightening visions; of a shadow behind you, of the sharp bite of leather, the painful depth of unending hunger.

And when the chill left your body, when the daze seeped away, when you were returned to the world, you stared up at the ceiling in quiet confusion. There was a window, a bed beneath you, a blanket over you, and the smell of roses in the air. You groaned and tried to sit up. You fell back, dizzy.

A thin, short man appeared at the side of the bed. He felt your forehead and nodded. He disappeared and returned to you. He dropped a robe on the edge of the bed.

“Your fever is broken.” He said plainly. “You must bathe.”

“What? What is going--”

“The king is impatient. As am I. I haven’t time for your questions.” The man reproached. “It will take some time before a bath is drawn. You will be upon your feet by then.”

He marched away from you and disappeared through the door. You once more pushed yourself up on shaky arms and held your head until it was clear. You looked around at the chamber; there was an upholstered chair in the corner and a painted chest of drawers; a large metal tub and a folded screen against the wall.

You drew yourself from beneath the blankets and took the robe. You stood, unsteadily, holding yourself up on the side table near the bed as you pulled it on. 

The door opened again and a servant entered with a bucket of steaming water. Another followed in quick succession, and another. The train of maids quickly filled the metal tub and left just as they had come.

The man returned not long after. He snapped the door shut and his hands went to his hips in frustration.

“Get in,” he nodded to the tub. “You’ve wasted enough time.”

“Where am I? Who are you?” You asked as you stood.

“You remain in the king’s custody.” He snipped as he went to the tub and pulled the screen open to conceal it from the rest of the room. “Wash yourself and I will explain. Or I shall call a guard to help.”

You slowly made your way across the room and went behind the screen. You threw the robe over the top of the screen and carefully stepped into the tub. You nearly slipped as you lowered yourself into the hot water.

“You will scrub yourself and use the oil,” he ordered from the other side of the screen.

You took the small vial from the low stool and sniffed. It smelled of roses. You grabbed the sponge and went about washing yourself, gingerly as you wiped your tortured back. It was tender but not so raw as before.

“So… who are you?” You asked.

“You can call me Birger,” he replied as you heard him moving around, “I am the king’s footman and have been, for these past days, your keeper.”

“And how did I come to this chamber?”

“You were half-starved and feverish,” he said, “The king commanded that you were tended to so that you might survive the cell. Ever generous, he is.”

“Generous…” You mulled as you let the water ease your muscles.

“I know your crimes. I know he has shown you an unusual exception.” Birger explained. “Mercy had never been the king’s preferred method.”

“Mercy, is it?”

“I’ve seen him have others killed for less,” he countered coolly, “I do wonder why he should favour a peasant such as you. Alas, I have never worried much on the king’s thoughts. That is not my duty. I do as he wills me.”

“And you served him as a prince?” You prodded.

“Since he was barely more than a boy,” Birger confirmed. “Now be quick, we must have you dressed shortly.”

“Why the hurry?” You asked.

“Do you always ask so many questions? I never knew the king to favour it.”

You were quiet as you finished washing yourself. You climbed out of the tub, more steady on your feet than before, and pulled on the robe again.

“I will call for Liv to ready you.” Birger went to the door again. “You will dress before I return.”

He gestured to the bed and the sheer black fabric across it. The door closed behind him and you went to the bed. The dress was sparse and would barely hide your nudity, if at all. You lifted it and frowned at the cut. Thin straps held up the bodice, black embroidered with silver in a way that would obscure the more intimate parts of your chest. The waist form a vee above the skirts that were slitted along the sides. You rarely wore dresses and had certainly never dressed so scantily.

There were no undergarments. You reluctantly pulled on the gown, if it could be classed as such, and the door opened. You turned as Birger entered followed by a woman with orange hair. Liv, you assumed.

“Turn,” Birger ordered and marched over to you. He pulled tight the laces of the bodice and you gasped at his strength. He knotted them at the top and backed away. “Sit.” He pulled up the stool from behind the screen. “Liv,” he pointed at you and retreated to the other side of the room.

You sat on the stool and Liv opened the chest she carried in with her. She peered down at you as she considered its content.

“The king did say not to use too much,” Birger girded.

“Very well,” Liv retracted her hand from the pot of powder and instead took a stick of kohl. “Just the eyes and lips then. A touch of colour.” She bent over you and lifted your chin. “Look up,”

She ordered you around tersely as she lined your eyes and then painted your lips in a delicate pink. You were not afforded a glance in the mirror before you were ushered to your feet. Birger looked you over and shrugged. He took a pair of silver sandals from beside the bed and gave them to you.

“Better,” he remarked as you slipped on the sandals. “Come.”

He beckoned you forth with two fingers and to the door. A guard awaited you in the corridor and you were handed over to him without pretense. You hesitated and he grabbed your arm. You were directed down the hallways and up several sets of stairs. You were met by another guard before a large golden door with the kingdom’s crest inlaid into its face.

“The king was called away,” the guard said to the other, “He has permitted her to wait in his receiving chamber.”

The other grumbled and nudged you forward. The king’s guard pushed open the door and pointed you inside. He shoved you when you did not budge. You stumbled past the door and it slammed behind you. You turned back and deflated. Slowly, you looked around.

An ebony desk carved with silver snakes, a grand chair behind it; a set of sofas before a hearth and low table; a finely woven carpet, side tables along the walls beneath portraits of the king and his predecessors; each piece of furniture was finer than the last.

Opposite the doors you’d come through, was another set. These were painted with hundreds of snakes, hissing and baring their fangs. You could see that the oil was recently applied. You could guess what was on the other side.

You gulped as you neared the hearth and stared above it. A portrait of the king stared back at you, his dark locks hung pristinely from beneath his horned crown and his green eyes bore into you as he seemed to watch you in turn.

It was a fine chamber but no less a cell.

#loki #loki x reader #dark!loki #dark loki #fic #series #by the king's hand #medieval au #medieval!au #au #medieval #mcu #marvel #dark fic #dark!fic #king!loki

[natasha-romanoff-deserved-better]

The Day The Music Died

Summary:

“This’ll be the day that I die,” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told.

Natasha never wanted to hear that song again.

Word Count: 3437

Also on Ao3 here

~~~

Natasha stares at the bandages wrapped tightly around Clint’s left wrist, eyes locked in on the red spots where extra blood had been soaked up by the gauze. Clint’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, softly drumming along to the song playing from the radio as he maneuvers the car around a bend in the old back road.

“I can feel you staring.” He says, snapping Natasha out of her trance. Clint takes his eyes off the road for a second to catch her gaze. “Nat, I’m fine. I promise.” It’s not going to change what happened, but he still tries. These types of missions were always hard on Natasha, and it’d only been made that much worse when one of the target’s bodyguards had managed to catch Clint’s forearm with a knife, dangerously close to critical veins. There had been a lot of blood and although Nat was easily able to stitch his skin back together, the close call had scared her - even if she refused to admit it out loud.

“I know you’re fine, idiot. It’s impossible to get rid of you.” She snorts and sends him a small smile. The radio cuts into a commercial, advertising their station and morning talk show before launching into another song.

A long, long time ago

I can still remember how that music

Used to make me smile

Natasha frowns at the song as an alarm bell begins to blare in the back of her head at the notes that drift out of the speakers. She furrows her eyebrows at it, a sinking feeling coming over her. Images from another time threaten to overtake her, and she’s too weak to stop them.

And I knew if I had my chance

That I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while

A blonde little girl, only five years old, prances around the front yard. She’s barefoot and wearing her pink sparkly sundress, hair pulled up into pigtails as she tries to catch a ladybug. Natasha watches from her perch among the tree branches. Mom Melina is kneeled on the ground as she works on the garden in front of the house, planting new flowers to replace the dead ones. She’s brought her portable stereo out, sitting it on the porch and playing at full volume. Natasha isn’t even aware of what song is playing until Yelena is running up to the porch, begging her to play it again. Mom Melina does. And then plays it again with an amused smile and quirked eyebrow when Yelena asks for a third time. Yelena cheers with joy as it starts again and rises to her tip toes as she begins to twirl and dance to the music.

Nobody knows what it is about the song that Yelena likes so much, but she loves it. She constantly asks for it, so much so that Melina loads it onto a cassette tape and keeps it in the car just for her. Natasha doesn’t quite understand what most of the lyrics are talking about, but she decides she doesn’t mind the song for Yelena. In a way, it fits- Yelena is the picture perfect little all american girl, apple pie personified.

Natasha’s frozen in her seat. She pleads with herself to move, to turn off the radio. She doesn’t want to hear this. She knows what verses are coming next, and her breathing catches in her throat as they start. These words hold no comfort for her anymore.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

And them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Her sister’s high-pitched voice singing the words, a beat behind as she moves her hands cheerfully, lost in the rhythm of the song. She’s buzzing with excitement- ready for her promised big adventure, too young and oblivious to notice their parent’s anxiety or her sister’s internal crisis happening in the seat next to her. Natasha can’t look at her sister, she doesn’t want her to see the panic she knows is written over her face. Instead, she keeps her eyes locked out the window, trying desperately to commit everything to memory. The red, white, and blue lights that light up the night, the football game where a band plays and people cheer, the abundance of restaurants where families are sat enjoying dinner. The normalness of it all makes her angry - how can all these people be so casual when her world is falling apart at the seams? Yelena begins to sing the verse about dying, and it takes everything within Natasha to not snap at her. She can’t bear to listen to her little sister singing about dying, so blissfully unaware of the possibility of the verse becoming true at any moment now. Natasha should say something to her, tell her to stop, tell her what was happening. But the lure of pretending one last time is too great for her to give away. She doesn’t say anything.

Did you write the book of love

A photo album, thick with pictures of them all sit on the shelf. It’s Natasha’s favorite thing in the house, and she often sneaks out of bed to stare at the photos. Realistically, she knows they’re all fake. But if she tries hard enough, thinks long enough, she swears she can recall the events. Thanksgiving had been fun; the food had been the best she’d ever tasted. Their summer vacation had been at the beach, and she swears she can feel the sun warming her face and the sand between her toes.

And do you have faith in God above

If the bible tells you so?

She and Clint had gone to a church once, as part of an undercover mission. She’d ended up having to walk out in the middle of the service. It had been too much. She could never believe in it, even if she wanted to. No loving God would ever create the horrors she had seen before her 13th birthday or give her a family purely to steal it all away so violently.

Can music save your mortal soul

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Natasha’s feet hit the ground, still en pointe, as she lands the perfect Grand Jete. She tosses her arms out in the landing pose and holds it for a second before excited clapping breaks her concentration. Yelena sits there, smiling wide as possible, clad in her own black leotard and pink tights. She’s in the younger classes, not as advanced as Natasha yet, but it doesn’t stop her from trying. Yelena scrambles to her feet, crossing the floor to stand next to her sister.

“Teach me, teach me!”

It’s a complicated step, and Natasha knows she’s not ready for it just yet. She doesn’t want her to get hurt.

“I’ll teach you when you’re older, okay?” Yelena nods, and turns to the mirror, copying Natasha’s arm positions.

Natasha tries to force another breath into her lungs, but it’s harder now, her throat and chest constricted. She squeezes her eyes closed, trying to block out the flashbacks that continue to assault her.

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own

And moss grows fat on a rolling stone

But that’s not how it used to be.

Fifteen years. It had been fifteen goddamn years since Natasha had seen her sister for the last time. She refuses to let herself think of what might have happened to her. It pains her to think of her baby sister, who had once been so full of life, in such a horrid place.

Natasha wraps her arms around herself, arms holding each other tightly. She digs her fingernails into her skin, attempting to give herself something else to focus on and ground her. It doesn’t work.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the Levee was dry

Them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

And signing this will be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Natasha doesn’t know how long they’ve been stuffed into this shipping container, crowded against a hundred other little girls. They’re all dirty, all starving, all terrified. The scent of sweat and urine threatens to suffocate them, the air hot and heavy.

She has tugged Yelena into her lap, arms protectively crossed over her torso to hold her close- hasn’t let go of her since the second they were put into here for fear of losing her amongst the other girls. She’s so tiny, and Natasha doesn’t trust any of the others.

Yelena stirs, a small whimper falling from her lips. Natasha tries to shush her gently, but it doesn’t work, and her sister keeps squirming. Her cries are starting to grow in volume, and one of the girls next to them sends them a dirty look.

“Yelena, Yelena. I’m here. You’re with me.” It’s the only words of comfort Natasha can offer her. She wishes she could tell her they were okay, that she was safe, that they were going to be fine. Instead, all she can do is assure her that her older sister had her. Yelena had stopped calling out for her mom a while ago, after her calls went unanswered and she finally realized no one was coming to rescue them. Natasha shifts them around, turning her back towards the others and away from prying eyes. Natasha turns Yelena on her lap, so that Yelena is facing her. “Yelena, look at me.”

Yelena shakes her head, so Natasha gently cups both sides of her face, titling her face up so that she has no choice. Yelena doesn’t resist, just locks her tear-filled eyes onto Natasha.

“I’m scared,” Yelena sobs through hitching breaths as her body trembles.

Natasha clutches her tighter and brings her closer, so close their noses are almost touching. “Don’t cry, Lena. Just sing with me.” Yelena frowns at her in confusion, and Natasha starts to sing under her breath, quietly, so that Yelena is forced to quite herself down and focus to hear the words.

She starts with the chorus, the part that Yelena knows and likes the best. “Bye, Bye, Miss American pie,” Natasha sings. The corner of Yelena’s lips quirks up in recognition. Nat pauses, prompting Yelena to sing the next line herself.

Her voice quivers, but she sings it anyways. “Drove my chevy to the levee…” Natasha nods in encouragement and joins her for the next verse. “But the levee was dry.” They sing the next few lines together. They near the last two lines of the chorus though, and this time, Natasha can’t allow her to sister to sing the last line. They hurt too much, they’re too real.

So she interrupts Yelena, skipping forward past the “Day that I die” line and jumping right into the next verse. Yelena doesn’t even question it, just follows her sister’s lead and allows herself to be completely absorbed in the whispered song.

Natasha sings almost the entire song to her sister, doing her best to remember as many lyrics as she could, and then starts over. She keeps singing, over and over again, until her voice starts to crack, and Yelena’s eyes are slipping closed in exhaustion.

“Tasha?” Clint calls, picking up the tension in his partner. She doesn’t respond, just stays frozen in her seat, locked in her own little world. “Hey,” He calls, a bit louder this time. He takes one hand off the wheel and places it on her shoulder gently. “Nat. What’s going on?” She’s shaking.

Instead of answering, Natasha claps her hands over her ears and leans forward, bending at the waist so she can rest her head atop her knees. She’s shaking her head, muttering something under her breath.

We all got up to dance

Oh, but we never got the chance

“Teach me, teach me!”

“…When you’re older.”

Natasha never got the chance to teach Yelena that ballet move. She wonders just how many other promises to her baby sister she’s broken.

“I’m going to pull over, Nat, okay?” A male’s voice comes from somewhere close by. His hand moves from her shoulder onto her back, to rub small circles on it.

Do you recall what was revealed

The day the music died?

She had never felt so stupid. Standing on that airway strip, holding a gun out in front of her, blocking Yelena. She had let her fall into the lie, childishly believe that maybe, just maybe Dad Alexei loved them like he said he did. As Alexei kneels before them, showing no sympathy to his daughters tears, she realizes that had never been the case.

The chorus starts again, and she feels bile rise in her stomach. “Bye Bye Miss American Pie” Natasha remembers how she had stolen that gun from a solider, shoved her sister behind her and threatened to kill numerous grown men for touching her. How desperately she had clung to Yelena when they’d been ripped apart. She hadn’t been ready to give up her sister, not ready to say goodbye to the American dream lie they had built side by side. “Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the levee was dry” The memory of Yelena’s face during those few days had haunted Natasha’s dreams for years. It had frightened her- even more so than the men with oversized guns. She had never seen her sister, who laughed at everything and loved the world with everything in her, look so despondent. She had tried telling her jokes to pry some kind of smile out of her. It didn't work. “This’ll be the day that I die” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told. That day, when dad Alexei handed them back to Russians soldiers, they had both died. Died only to be remade and ruthlessly forged into something new, nothing more than weapons of mass destruction and trained killers.

There’s cussing to her left that pulls her back halfway to the present. She’s in a car, and she’s covered in vomit that runs down her front and onto her chest and lap. Clint has a hand on her, and he’s telling her just a second, Nat.

“Clint?” She asks, still slightly confused. She can still feel the weight of a smaller body on top of her, feel the soft blonde curls against her chin.

“I’m here, Tasha. Hold on.”

Oh, and there we were all in one place

A generation lost in space

With no time to start again

Countless little girls standing in a straight line, blank expressions, awaiting their next commands. They’re all mirrors of each other, no identity left for any of them to cling onto. Natasha scans over each girl, searching for the blonde waves she knows so well. She can’t find her.

The song drags on as Clint navigates the car off the road, coming to stop. He jumps out and jogs around, flinging Natasha's door open. She doesn’t move, so he reaches in and unbuckles her before slipping his hands into her armpits and pulling her out of the car. She tumbles to the ground, falling onto her knees.

And as I watched him on the stage

My hands clenched in fists of rage

No angel born in hell

Could break that Satan’s spell

Natasha catches Dreykov’s eyes on them, and she tightens her hold on Yelena’s hand. Her sister makes a small noise - she’s going to have bruises with how tight Nat is holding her- but doesn’t pull her hand away. Natasha curls her free hand into a tight fist, ready to swing if need be.

Dreykov says something to the men with guns next to him and points a finger at them. The soldiers start moving forward, and Natasha backtracks, tries to back up but Yelena stumbles at the sudden change in direction.

I saw Satan laughing with delight

The day the music died

Natasha screams her sister's name, gripping onto her as tightly as she can. Soldiers have hands on them both, ripping them away from each other. Dreykov is standing several feet away, a tiny smile on his face. Yelena is shrieking, hands desperately trying to keep her grasp on Natasha with all the strength in her six-year-old frame.

They lose their grip on each other and are dragged apart. Yelena’s voice dies out as they carry away the only thing Natasha had left.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie -

“Turn it off!” Natasha pleads, before promptly vomiting even more onto the ground. Clint’s hands support her head, keeping her from falling. “Off, please. I can’t. Turn it--” Clint’s hands leave her for a second as he scrambles over her, reaching through the open passenger door and slamming the power button on the radio.

Natasha lets out a breath, thankful for the silence. With the song no longer playing, her head is beginning to clear, the painful images retreating somewhere she could lock them away again.

“All done?” Clint asks her. She spits out one last string of bile and nods her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as Clint helps her sit up and lean against his leg. He doesn’t rush her, just allows her to sit and try to regain control of her breathing as he combs his fingers through her hair.

When Natasha can finally think again, she frowns at herself in disgust. “Sorry,” She apologizes.

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” he tells her. Clint reaches over and opens the backdoor, grabbing his go bag and digging around until his fingers find one of his clean T-shirts. He yanks it out, closes the door. “Can I help you change, or do you want to do it yourself?”

He’s honestly not even sure if she could change herself right now, with how much she was still shaking, but he gives her the choice anyways. She shrugs her shoulders, her way of accepting help without actually having to accept. “Okay, arms up.” Natasha raises her arms, and Clint carefully tugs her shift off her by the collar, making sure the filthy outside never touched any of her skin. He crumples up the shirt into a ball and tucks it in a bag. He bunches up his shirt at the neck hole and slides it over her head before gently guiding her arms through. It takes a lot for his partner to get to this state, and his concern grows with every passing second that goes by and Natasha is still out of it. He fixes the shirt over her torso, making sure she’s completely covered and then sinks down to the ground, leaning his back against the wheel of the car. There’s a soft breeze in the air, the slight chill nipping at their skin a welcome distraction. “C’mere,” he says, and guides Natasha into his side. She tenses for a moment, but then lets her head drop onto his shoulder, allowing Clint to take her weight. He wraps an arm around her to hold her close.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha repeats, and this time Clint doesn’t say anything. He knows she’s not apologizing to him, but someone not in their presence. He doesn’t push it. She’ll tell him when she’s ready, on her own time. He has guesses though. Clint had an older brother, and he knows what a protective but burnt-out older sibling looks like. He’s seen the way her eyes linger on certain little girls in public before snapping back, caught the way she had once brushed her fingers over a fabric doll with pink hair on a store shelf, heard the way she is able to understand children’s speech without any effort. She’s never mentioned a younger sibling before, but sometimes in her sleep, she mumbles a girl’s name, her hands clenched in fists as if trying to hold on to her.

He presses a kiss to her temple, a silent promise. He won’t push her- He doesn’t need to know exactly what happened. He knows how to support her and how to take care of her when she needs it and for now, that’s enough.

Years later, Natasha will press her forehead to an adult Yelena’s, both panting from the fight, Yelena upside down and laying in the wreckage of the red room. Dreykov is finally dead, by Yelena’s hand. Yelena cracks a joke, and Natasha smiles. They’ll never again be those little girls they once were, but they’ve finally found each other.

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