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atinycafe · 10 months

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MEETING HYUNG LINE ATZ 4 THE FIRST TIME — headcanons

pairing: ateez hyung line (psh, khj, jyh, kys) x fem!reader genre: fluff wrd cnt: 4.2k warnings: different aus for each boy, violence + language + annoying man hitting on reader (hwa's part), groping and sexual harassment by creep (yuyu's part) + mention of needles and blood (yeo's part), petnames note: this weirdly took me so long that's why i didn't post my usual tiny drabbles these past days, like i think you can actually see me lose interest in writing this as you go on further and further in the post, but anyway if you like it, feel free to tell me so i can write 4 the maknae line, feel free to request anything, i'll write it 4 u bb, also completely out of context but yeosang's initials are crazy like sir?? masterlist

　　○˳　　　🎭　　　idol!hongjoong x model!reader (1.3k)

you ready yourself for what lies ahead, inhaling soft breaths to steady your nerves. you make a conscious effort not to bite on your acrylic nails, a habit that helps alleviate your stress. standing in a line filled with seasoned models, you find yourself at the forefront.

this marks your first time opening for a catwalk show, and it happens to be for balmain, one of your favorite brands. you can sense the gaze of more experienced mannequins piercing the back of your head, intensifying your desire to disappear completely.

excitement courses through you, but it is overshadowed by overwhelming anxiety. your stomach tightens beneath the long black bodycon dress. the excessively high heels dig uncomfortably into your feet, and the black fur coat feels hot and itchy against your skin. a golden necklace dips between your breasts, accentuating the deep v-cut of your dress.

gazing down at your legs, you can feel the tightness of the dress, accentuating their curves forcefully. the thought of appearing awkward while attempting to strut along the runway plagues your mind. you pout and try to recall the words of your therapist, assuring yourself that everything will be okay, despite your rising anxiety.

the staff begins the final checks on the models, informing you that the show will commence in 10 minutes. everyone nods, preparing themselves. some models ask their personal assistants to double-check their hair and makeup, while others place their healthy smoothies on the large tables at the sides.

you remain still, already prepared, though the weight of the coat on your body feels burdensome. breathing becomes a challenge, but you push through the discomfort. fake it till you make it—perhaps the placebo effect can work in your favor now; you desperately need it.

you all stand behind the grand curtains, the sound of music signaling the beginning of the show. having practiced a new, slightly more sensual catwalk routine for this occasion, you convince yourself that everything will be fine. however, the fuck ass coat… it weighs so heavily upon you.

recognizing your cue, you part the curtains on the first drop of the music. the lights dramatically illuminate your silhouette as you push your anxiety to the back of your mind, casting a seductive smirk toward the audience on either side of the runway.

you start strutting slowly, each step perfectly synchronized with the bass of the song. you know you look good, feeling your hips sway enticingly. yet, you can't help but notice the tightness in your chest and the sudden difficulty in breathing. fuck that damn coat.

quickly contemplating your options, you realize no one is behind you. if you take a dramatic pause, it won't disrupt the flow. and so, you do just that. in the middle of the runway, you come to a halt, gracefully turning on yourself as if putting on a show for the spectators. removing your coat, you reveal the backless dress beneath, flinging the fur onto someone seated in the front row. gasps of astonishment ripple through the crowd, and the camera flashes multiply, blinding you to the identity of the recipient of your 10-kilogram coat—only catching a glimpse of orange hair.

resuming your stride, you are well aware that this impulsive act will likely be splattered across social media for months. you suppress a laugh as you imagine the dramatic edits that will ensue. with the burden of the coat lifted, you finally feel free from the weight that had fueled your anxiety.

having completed the walk flawlessly, you now find yourself in your own small cubicle—a room of your own, courtesy of your friendship with olivier rousteing. seated in a chair, donning simple shorts and a t-shirt, you sip on your americano. your

face is adorned with a white face mask as you stare intently at something on your phone, hugging your knees.

the door creaks open, and you assume it's your assistant finally arriving to inform you that your uber has arrived. pushing against the dressing table, you swivel the rolling chair to face the door, only to be met with a stranger.

both of your mouths hang open in surprise, and you simply gaze at each other in disbelief. you, because you find yourself face-to-face with one of your favorite singers, hongjoong from ateez. and him, because he didn't expect you to look so adorable after witnessing the mature show you put on just thirty minutes ago.

"uhh, can i help you?" you ask, swiftly removing the mask and straightening yourself, coughing softly in awkwardness.

"uh, yeah, you… umm, dropped this earlier," he points to the weighty coat in his grasp, and your jaw drops once more.

you just threw that coat at kim fucking hongjoong. you wish you could disappear.

"oh shit, sorry, i…" you begin to stand up, almost causing the cup of americano in your lap to tumble. but you catch it in the nick of time, your reflexes acting swiftly, even as your embarrassment threatens to engulf you. "did it hurt?" you blurt out in a quick squeak.

did it hurt? did it hurt?? you must be out of your damn mind. what kind of question is that? your face flushes, and the redhead before you can only stare in shock before bursting into laughter.

"shit sorry, 'm not making fun of you, i promise precious," he manages to say in between wheezes, tears forming in his eyes. "no, it didn't. don't worry about me. i'm stronger than i look." you let out an awkward laugh, finding some amusement in the situation as well, and you wipe at your face, feeling exhausted. it's only 9 pm, but you've been at this place since dawn. hongjoong notices the tired smile on your face and straightens up.

"i didn't know who to give it to. i figured since you… uhh, wore it," he trails off, hoping you'd understand that he didn't want to waste your time.

"that's so nice of you, if i were you i would've kept it to be honest," you laugh, finally starting to feel at ease. and he smiles.

he smiles. your brain goes haywire at the sight, and you can't help but make a quick remark, "could i get your autograph?"

he looks at you as if you've just asked him the most improbable thing in the world, and you bite your lip, scolding yourself internally for getting too comfortable. "sorry, you don't have to—"

"no no no, it's alright. i just didn't think you… knew me," now it's your turn to look at him in the same way he did, and you're at a loss for words.

you try to formulate a response, attempting to convey that he's rather daft for being surprised that you recognize him. but before you can speak, your assistant finally enters the room, holding your considerably lighter coat. he eyes hongjoong up and down, and then turns to you, pointing at him discreetly.

"isn't that the guy you keep fangirling over?" your horror-stricken gaze meets your assistant's, while hongjoong hides his face behind the fur coat, muffling his laughter within the material.

your assistant fails to read the room and continues, "anyway, your uber's there. come

out whenever you're ready, but make it quick, guys." he gives both of you a knowing look, and you stare back in a mix of confusion and disbelief. he places your brown coat on the chair next to hongjoong and closes the door behind him as he exits.

"sorry about him, man. he's weird. don't mind him," you start, tossing the empty cup of americano into the trash along with the face mask you had worn. as you reach for your brown clothing, you pass by hongjoong, noticing how his eyes follow you, his smile never fading. his cologne wafts around him, but you resist the urge to inhale deeply. while putting on your coat, hongjoong finally smirks.

"i'll give you my autograph next time i see you, along with that coat. in exchange, give me your number."

○˳　　　🏍️　　　gangster!seonghwa x chaebol!reader (0.9k)

you're chilling in the vip section of one of seoul's most famous clubs. having a blast with your girlfriends, clinking glasses, and laughing uproariously. everyone around recognizes you as the daughter of a prominent politician, shamelessly having a good time with other influential figures' daughters, but they mind their own business.

you feel the judgmental gazes on you, but you try to ignore them, not wanting to let them ruin your night. your father wasn't the best person, openly feasting on the public's taxes. he was awful both in public and private. you're relieved he's a deadbeat dad, with his messed up personality, you don't have to deal with him.

you'd rather spend his ill-gotten money on clubbing and shopping, reclaiming a small piece of what he's taken from the nation. it might be foolish, but hey, you're just a young girl. what else can you do?

your thoughts are interrupted when one of your girls grabs your arm, slurring about wanting to dance. you both giggle as her words come out in slow motion. you stand up, letting her lead you onto the dance floor.

you move to the beat, her body pressed against your back, her hands caressing your bare waist as yours wave in the air. she leans in, her nose brushing against your hoop earring, and she shouts over the loud music about a guy who keeps checking you out. you turn to her, silently asking "where?" and she points behind you.

you pivot, following her gesture, and lock eyes with a man sitting in a vip section similar to yours. he's at the edge of a circular seat, accompanied by seven other guys. as his gaze meets yours, he smirks, the club's lasers reflecting off the grills in his mouth. you flash a smile, then turn away, acting unfazed. your friend catches on, throwing her head back in laughter as she teasingly grabs a handful of your ass. both of you erupt in fits of giggles, behaving like immature high school students.

the night carries on, and you grow tired of dancing. the other girls have joined you on the dance floor, so you leave them and head to the bar. you ask the bartender for a glass of water, hoping to refresh yourself a bit. suddenly, you feel a large hand on the small of your back. you smile, assuming it's the stranger from earlier, but when you turn around, your smile fades. it's some random guy, much older, and you recoil in disgust, smoothing over the spot he touched with your palm.

"ew, back off. not interested," you say dismissively, not even bothering to look at him. you shift your focus to the bartender, who gives you a sympathetic smile. he places the glass of water in front of you and goes off to clean other glasses.

the man, who still hasn't budged from behind you, snatches your drink and takes a sip. you look at him, utterly shocked, thinking, "what the fuck does he think he's doing?" he carelessly drops the cup right next to your hand on the table, causing the water to splash onto your fingers, making you flinch.

"water? nah, let me get you something good, babe. what do you want? i can get you anything," he yells at the bartender, who gives you a questioning look. you shake your head in refusal. when the guy sees that you both ignore him, he starts getting agitated.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" he snaps at you. funny, you were thinking the same thing. "you think you're better than me or something? i know who you are, you bitch. just because your daddy's th—"

before he can finish his sentence, his head slams onto the table, and he crumples to the floor, leaving a streak of blood where his nose hit the wood. you turn to the person who just knocked him out.

"seonghwa, nice to meet you, pretty. sorry about him. he won't bother you anymore," he says calmly as he takes a seat next to you, motioning for someone to remove the unconscious body. you stare at him in astonishment before taking a sip of your water, letting the cool liquid calm you down.

he signals the bartender, who swiftly approaches, discussing a glass on the rocks. the older man nods unsteadily. taking advantage of the moment, you let your eyes wander over his face. he's attractive, but that's not what catches your attention. the dragon tattoo peeks out from his shirt, extending along the side of his neck. it's the symbol of the notorious gang and, surprisingly, the owners of the club you're in.

"you often handle paying patrons like that?" you inquire, taking another sip of your water and gazing straight ahead.

now it's his turn to feel your gaze on his profile, and you can hear his chuckle. "i only do that to the ones who scare the highest-paying patrons," he cleverly replies, alluding to your wealthy background. you roll your eyes and turn to face him, resting your elbows on the table and propping your cheek on your fists.

"'m not paying for my water, you are," you state, and he laughs, mimicking your posture by resting his cheek on his hand.

"am i now? and why would i do that, pretty?" he smirks. you can now see the details of his grills more clearly, small diamonds adorning the silver jewelry, and you smirk right back at him. a few strands of hair fall across your face as your body shakes with laughter.

"'cause you got a crush on me," you drawl out the last word, your smile widening, your cheeks starting to hurt. he moves one hand to your face, gently brushing the hair away with a feather-light touch, and chuckles softly.

"such a smart girl."

　　○˳　　　🚟　　　student!yunho x student!reader (0.8k)

you gaze down at the subway floor beneath your feet, gripping your eyes tightly. the train compartment is packed to the brim, the morning rush causing people to scramble and squeeze together. however, you're well aware that the hand grazing against your skirt is no accidental result of the cramped space.

clenching your fists, you lean your forehead against the windowpane of the door ahead, seeking solace in the cold surface. a scream wells up within you, the desire to make a scene overwhelming, but this is the first time such a thing has happened to you. frozen, you're unable to react.

your eyes sting with tears, and you attempt to hold them back, but they refuse to be contained. small droplets trickle down your cheeks, and you gently brush them away with the sleeves of your uniform.

suddenly, the subway screeches to a halt, reaching a new station before the doors slide open in front of you. you lower your gaze to the floor, your hair partially obscuring your face, and you notice only one pair of jordan 4 sneakers and a pair of pants resembling the ones worn by boys in your school. your curiosity leads you to glance up swiftly, and there stands one of the tallest boys you've ever seen. he's a stranger, someone you've never crossed paths with before, but you surmise he must be a new student at your school, given the familiar uniform.

he stares at your face, taking note of the tear tracks on your cheeks, then casts a quick glance behind you, piercing through the person who has been violating your boundaries for the past five minutes. in an instant, he connects the dots, understanding the situation, and his expression changes from shock to anger.

he steps into the train, forcefully grabbing the man behind you before hurling him out with a powerful throw. the man lands on his rear with a grunt, and before he can utter a word, the doors seal shut.

you have no time to react as more people flood in through the other subway doors, inadvertently pushing against your body. almost losing your balance, the boy behind you grabs your forearm, turning you around and gently pressing you against the door. his hands shield you from the surrounding crowd, his larger and stronger frame providing protection.

you can only gaze up at him, fear evident in your wide eyes, while he looks down at the others around him, his face reflecting displeasure as people jostle against him. eventually, he looks back at you, and his expression softens.

"sorry for touching you like that," he whispers, and you feel a tug at your heart, strangely soothed by his voice despite his recent shoving and pushing.

"like what?" you respond softly, perplexed because he has nothing to apologize for; in fact, he did the complete opposite by helping you fend off the harasser.

he simply gestures toward your forearm with his long finger, not even making contact, alluding to the moment he turned you to face him.

"oh," you glance down at your arm, "'s alright," you say awkwardly.

silence hangs between the two of you. you try not to dwell on how close he is to you, but this time, the proximity doesn't make you uncomfortable. while yunho gazes upward, deliberately avoiding meeting your eyes, he can't help but notice their beauty—the way they shine so brightly with tears—making him feel breathless, as though he could suffocate if he stares for too long, forgetting to breathe.

"by the way, thank you for, umm…" you finally manage to speak, still unable to meet his gaze as his eyes find their way back to you, "you know, yeah, thanks."

he's about to reply, insisting it was nothing, when the door behind you opens. a gasp escapes your lips as you begin to lose your balance, but his hand instinctively reaches out, pulling you closer and helping you regain stability.

he tries to create distance between you, but the stream of people surging in from behind prevents it. the next station is even more crowded than the previous, as it draws nearer to downtown. pressed tightly against his chest, your left cheek resting against his pec, you can hear his heartbeat quicken. the closeness causes his ears and neck to turn bright red.

once both of you step out of the subway, finally arriving at the station that leads to your school, you release a weary sigh simultaneously. at the sound, you look at each other and share a soft chuckle.

walking in the same direction, you have a feeling that getting this close to yunho won't be a one-time occurrence.

　　○˳　　　💉　　　doctor!yeosang x patient!reader (1.2k)

"so, how did that happen?" yeosang mumbles as he checks out the open gash on your hairline, his gloved hands carefully examining the wound. you wince in pain when he applies a bit too much pressure, and he gives you an apologetic look before returning to his seat, tossing the gloves into the tiny trash can beside him.

you're in one of the er rooms, sitting on the examination table, and you're grateful for the blood smeared on your face, hiding the blush you can't help but feel around the cute doctor. you nervously bite your lip, and he notices, reaching out with his thumb to release your poor lip from the clutches of your teeth. you don't overthink the gesture; after all, he's a doctor who doesn't want you to cause another injury to your face.

raising a perfectly arched eyebrow, he expects an answer to his previous question. you fiddle with your fingers, trying to come up with a response that won't embarrass you. eventually, you let your shoulders slump in defeat and clear your throat.

"my friend, uh, told me a joke, and it made my stomach hurt. i clutched my stomach," you explain, and he nods along, ensuring he follows the story. "but then, when i bent down too fast, i ended up smacking my head on the glass table and, umm, breaking it…"

he hides his face behind his palm, scribbling something in the paper placed in your folder. you can tell from the shaking of his shoulders that he's laughing. he mumbles something about how the joke must've been really funny.

you offer a shaky smile as he explains the next steps you'll need to take at home. he mentions that you won't require sutures since he doesn't want any obvious scarring, which is a relief because you're not exactly fond of needles. he continues talking about the medications and creams you'll need to apply to your face every night and day for the next month. you agree with a soft nod, feeling the throbbing headache intensify with each movement.

he hands you a prescription paper, and as you reach for it, you nearly stumble, experiencing the same dizziness that preceded fainting. but he catches you in his strong arms with lightning reflexes. you pull back, clutching your head instead, as the headache reaches unbearable levels.

yeosang notices your distress and swiftly guides you back onto the bed, using the gentlest movements. he takes hold of your chin between his fingers and looks into your fluttering eyes as you struggle to keep them open. worry lines crease his forehead as he reaches into his front pocket, retrieving not a pen, but a small flashlight. he shines it in your face, swiftly passing it in front of your eyes to check for dilation.

"you've lost quite a bit of blood," he says, his jaw tensing with concern as he lightly traces the back of his fingers along your cheekbones. "i can't believe i missed that…"

you wave your hand dismissively, whispering that it's okay since you only recently started feeling the effects of the blood loss.

"do you know your blood type? we need to transfuse, sweetheart," he whispers, clicking on his laptop, most likely searching for your blood type in your folder, which isn't available since this is your first visit to this hospital. you don't dwell on the endearment, too focused on recalling your blood type from memory.

"no, sorry, i don't remember," you meekly reply, feeling a tinge of embarrassment. after all, what adult doesn't know their own blood type?

"it's okay," he reassures, turning to you with a soft smile. "i'll take a sample, send it to one of the nurses, and they'll find out for us, okay?"

the question is rhetorical, and you realize it. you don't bother mentioning your fear of needles; it's not that you're scared of them, but you just don't want them penetrating your body.

with wide eyes and clammy hands, you agree with a small nod. yeosang immediately notices your tension. your knee bounces up and down rapidly, and your hands tremble slightly in your lap. he doesn't say anything as he retrieves a disinfected syringe from a small plastic container, along with two tubes.

he brings a chair in front of you and takes a seat, bringing himself down to your level. you gaze at him through your lashes, and yeosang feels his heart skip a beat. he takes a deep breath, then gently holds your hands, rubbing his thumbs softly against your skin. he can feel your rapid heartbeat under his touch and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"hey," he simply says, and you look at him, waiting for more. when no further words come, you respond with a quiet "hey" of your own.

"good, the patient is responsive, not a lifeless body," he smiles crookedly, cracking a joke that brings a smile to your face.

"wow, the patient is even smiling. today must be my lucky day," your smile widens, and he releases your hands. you hadn't realized how grounding his touch had been until it disappeared.

he grabs your arm and places your hand on his lap, palm facing up. he starts tapping the crook of your elbow since you're wearing a t-shirt, trying to locate your veins. when they don't appear, he clucks his tongue and takes hold of your smaller fist in his own, manually making your hand clench while his other hand remains on your forearm, attempting to raise a vein.

you remain silent and still, focusing on his concentrated expression. his eyebrows furrow, and his eyes remain fixed except for the occasional blink. his strong nose defines his face, and you notice the spot where he bites his cheek from inside his mouth. there's a small birthmark next to his eye, shaped like a tiny heart, and you find it endearing.

"enjoying the view?" he smirks, and before you can respond to defend your honor, he grabs the syringe, effectively silencing you. he tears open the packaging, discarding the waste on the table, and approaches your arm.

you flinch when he places a hand on your forearm, and he looks up at you with a gentle smile. however, the sight of the needle next to his face does little to calm you.

"'m gonna need you to keep your eyes on me, can you do that?" he asks, and you nod once, not planning on fixating on the impending puncture. "i'll make it quick, i promise, princess. do you trust me?" once again, you nod, this time thrown off balance by the endearing nickname, which he notices through the quiver of your lips.

"if i asked for your number, would you give it to me?" he shocks you with the question, as he's one of the most beautiful humans you've ever encountered, and here you are, looking like a complete mess with half your face covered in blood and a massive hole in your forehead.

"y-yeah, i would, obviously," you stammer, and he swiftly inserts the needle, hitting the vein accurately—something for which you're internally grateful. instinctively, you glance downward, but he quickly clicks his tongue, drawing your attention back.

"what did we say, eyes on me," he shows off his perfect teeth as he finally removes the needle, carefully transferring its contents into the two small bottles which he pushes aside. "now about this phone number."

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seethesin · 6 months

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peace and quiet

pairing: Villanelle x Assassin!F!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, car sex, dirty talk, fingering, edging (18+, mdni)

a/n: bet ya didn't see this coming 😏 truthfully, i've had this scenario on my mind for about a month now. i had to write this before i got through the rest of my drafts. im also a bottom!villanelle fan oops enjoy! gif credit.

The last way you wanted to spend your Friday evening was stuck in a Ford Fiesta with the world's most infuriating assassin, Villanelle. But here you both were, cramped and cranky as you wasted hours watching a man go through his nightly routine. Truthfully, you didn't know much about your target except his name, James Fitzgerald. His dossier was light and you suspected that further information wasn't yours to know.

As your handler would say: the less you knew, the better.

Silently, you watched as James moved from room to room in his home; starting in his bedroom, wandering into the kitchen, and finally, settling into the living room. Couldn't the Twelve have a vendetta against someone more interesting?

The blonde next to you must have thought the same thing. Immediately, she turned the radio on, flicking through the stations until she hummed in approval.

"Oh, I love Britney," she muses, beginning to sing along to the chorus of Womanizer as it pumps through the car's surround sound system.

You refrain from groaning.

"Villanelle, I need you to stop." Your voice is strained as your eyes are trained in front of you.

She's completely off-key but sings without a care in the world. Obviously, she's ignoring you and you exhale slowly, squeezing your eyes shut. Villanelle was good at what she did. Great even. But her hyperactive nature and flair for dramatics made you dread any time the two of you had to work together.

It wasn't just her obnoxious nature that made it so difficult for you to work with her. From the outlandish yet stylish outfits she donned to the way she held herself on and off the job, you thought she was stunning. But now, being in such close quarters only seemed to intensify those feelings. Your stomach did somersaults at each pesky thought, unable to get them out of your head quick enough. Entertaining those ideas was a distraction you couldn't afford.

Not in this line of work.

It's just one mission, you find yourself thinking, blinking your eyes open. I just need to get through one mission with her and then—

And then you will work with her again when the Twelve will it. You will still have these terribly ridiculous feelings that you will, once again, have to dissect like you are now. You grit your teeth and instead focus your boring gaze on James Fitzgerald's wrinkled forehead.

Wordlessly, you turn the radio knob towards you, muting the music so you can focus. Villanelle's contralto voice cuts through the silence like a blade and it takes her a few moments to realize what you've done.

"Hey! I was having fun!"

You roll your eyes, tapping your fingertips against the steering wheel.

"I wasn't."

Villanelle scoffs, feigning offense before leaning back. Aggressively, she adjusts her seat, allowing it to fully recline. She lays down, eyes glued to the car ceiling before crossing her arms over her chest petulantly.

You were ready to further accentuate her childishness as she muttered about how you were a 'party pooper,' but paused. James was getting up and walking towards his front door. He was letting someone inside, holy shit! This needed to be documented.

In the dark, you felt for your phone that was supposed to be on the console. Miscalculating, you reached over farther than necessary and instead grabbed—

Villanelle gasped, body arching forward.

Oh.

Your fingers gripped the flesh of her inner thigh, dangerously close to the hem of her shift dress. Blush immediately crawls over your cheeks and you become a stammering mess.

"Oh my god," you ramble, going to remove your hand. "I'm so sorry, Villanelle. I thought that—"

You don't get to finish your sentence. Her hand is over yours and she shoves your palm in between her legs. The wet cotton of her underwear greets your fingers and the heat it emits makes you flatline.

This wasn't real. None of this could be real.

"I know how you look at me."

The statement throws you off kilter and you gape like a fish. Were you that obvious? The idea makes you nauseous; how the hell did Villanelle know your feelings better than you could even comprehend them?

"Stop thinking," she husks and her confidence seems to spread to you like wildfire.

James Fitzgerald and his unannounced guest are long forgotten as you shift in your seat, turning to face Villanelle. Your finger pads inquisitively drag up the length of her clothed slit. Her breathing grows heavier the closer you stroke towards her clit. You can make out her teeth digging into her lower lip and the mischievous glint in her eyes as she stares back at you.

She’s begging you to keep her entertained.

Cautiously, you pull your hand away. The loss of contact squeezes a whimper from her throat, but it dies as she watches you slip two fingers between your lips. You suck slowly, refusing to break eye contact with her before releasing them with a soft pop. You don’t miss the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“Are you going to behave?” Villanelle nods like a bobblehead, practically rutting her body closer to where your hand used to be.

You chuckle. “Good girl.”

Wet fingers glide up her bare leg, meeting at the junction just below her thigh and cunt. Gently, your fingers worm underneath the waistband of her underwear. Painfully slow, you tug them down so that they pool at her knees. They are soaked and the sound of the blonde’s panting is amplified in the enclosed quiet of the car.

"Oh baby," you taunt, watching as she presses her thighs together. You want to swallow her whole.

"Is this all for me?"

"Yes," she sighs out instantaneously, parting her legs as your hand connects back to her cunt.

Your middle finger delicately slides through Villanelle's folds, exploring her velvety flesh. Tracing circles around her labia, you finally brush just underneath her clit. She jerks forward, desperately chasing your touch.

"Villanelle." Her name is a warning on your tongue, tutting gently as you watch her squirm. Your middle finger is fixed in the same position and her fingers curl around your wrist.

"Be nice," she pleads and no matter what your plan was initially, you couldn't deny her further. You nod and gently, your middle finger sinks inside her.

Villanelle tenses momentarily, adjusting to the intrusion before relaxing. She squeezes your wrist, silently goading you to move. You comply, thrusting deeper inside of her.

Your finger moves leisurely at first, more so to savor the first-time feeling of her silky flesh enveloping you. Gradually, you pick up the pace. Her slick drools down the length of your finger and the obscene squelching makes you blush.

Thank god for the dark.

A stream of moans bubbles from Villanelle's throat as her fingernails dig into your wrist. Her other hand moves to her lips, her teeth sinking into the knuckle of her index finger to muffle herself. In response, your finger curls inside of her. She keens, her eyes rolling back as she shoves her hips forward.

"Don't do that," you chide, pumping against the spongy walls of her cunt. "I want everyone to hear how good I'm gonna fuck you."

Her gaze peeks through her lashes, blinking in surprise at the vulgarity of your statement. She's beautifully flushed and the image is seared into your mind. Your ring finger presses inside of her and she gasps, finally removing her hand from her mouth.

"Don't be mean," Villanelle mewls and you can't stop the smile tugging at your lips.

By now, the windows have fogged over in the car. The air between you has risen at least ten degrees higher and you match Villanelle's ragged panting, hyperfocused on every expression she makes. Her hair fans out like a golden halo, illuminating her furrowed brows and parted lips. You want to kiss her, but you instead settle for swiping your thumb across her clit.

Villanelle's chest heaves when you suddenly piston your fingers inside her. She sloppily pushes down to meet your thrusts while her head lolls back against the car seat. By the way her walls fluttered against your sheathed digits, you knew her orgasm was imminent.

James Fitzgerald's departure was also imminent.

Suddenly, the flash of headlights appears in your peripheral vision. A midsized sedan rushes past the front of your rental car. James is driving while his guest in question is in the passenger seat. Your eyes go wide; the memory of exactly why you and Villanelle were here to begin with hits you like a truck.

You withdraw your fingers from Villanelle's pussy and she cries out in both confusion and frustration. Scrambling, she pulls the seat back up so she can properly glower at you.

"What the fuck?" She yells, softening only slightly as she watches you suck your fingers clean before putting the car in drive.

"It's James," you start, pressing the defogger button near the bottom of the dashboard. "I'm gonna tail him."

"I was about to cum!"

You glance at Villanelle quickly as she complains, tossing a cocky smirk in her direction.

"I guess you'll just have to wait then."

#villanelle #villanelle x reader #villanelle x you #villanelle smut #villanelle imagine #oksana astankova #oksana astankova x reader #killing eve #lesbian #wlw #lgbtq #smut #fanfiction #fanfic

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chaos-monkeyy · 10 months

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Okay I've finally caught up and finished episode 5 of Witcher season three 🥳 I don't have time to go wading through all the filtered posts right now BUT

They seriously missed a golden opportunity in episode 5 to just periodically cut away from the political intrigue and the fancy ball with the ~classy~ music and sparkly outfits, and give us little like three second clips at a time of Jaskier and Radovid back in their hut, enthusiastically and - most important - clumsily getting it on

Just imagine. An intensely meaningful conversation at the ball; Radovid tripping over a dusty chest on the floor as the makeout intensifies and nearly pulling Jaskier over with him with a yelp and thud. Intricate political maneuverings over flowing dance moves; topless Jaskier going oop shit as he accidentally tears Radovid's shirt open instead of just the lacings. Dramatic confrontations in Stregobor's chambers; Radovid dropping to his knees below frame and Jaskier's eyes rolling back in his head as it cuts away again in the middle of his oh, F-

It would have been incredible 😂😍

#radskier #jaskier #radovid #the witcher #the witcher season 3 #the witcher spoilers #the witcher season 3 spoilers

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revnah1406 · 8 months

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So this was sitting on my wips list for quite a long time. And It's been a while since the last time I brought Op Kingslayer content. I don't know if I'm going to finish it hahahaha! But I thought it would be nice to show you what the team looks like in their mission in Bolivia. <3

I'll bring more content soon! And I hope the next chapter too! Also new OCs will join the team! What is going to happen? *Dramatic music intensifies*

OCs:

Hannah "Sparrow" Clayton - @revnah1406

Alyssa "Aly" M. - @alypink

Captain Arjun - @welldonekhushi

Mandy Macfie - @alidravana

Charlotte "Jade" le Jardin - @sleepyconfusedpotato

#call of duty #op Kingslayer #call of duty ocs #charlotte jade le jardin #alyssa martinez #captain arjun #hannah sparrow clayton #friends' ocs #my art <3 #my skecth #Rev's thoughts

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skyward-floored · 3 months

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I think I’m coming down with a cold again and possibly have a fever but I’m here to scream about the update some more anyway! (and analyze a bit but mostly scream). Dawn part 7 here we go!

(All images belong to @linkeduniverse <3)

First off I have to say this was my favorite panel I think, it’s so pretty. The faint glow! The colors! The cape over his shoulder! Amazing. This truly was Sky’s update, I loved every bit of focus he got. Jojo fed us well :D

So it looks like I was wrong about Sky reading everyone’s mail. He just immediately took off after the mailman instead (and spent all morning chasing him ha!),

Side note but I love the npc guy. He’s simple but still Zelda-y. the character design in this comic is just👌

Looks like the mailman has a list of who he’s supposed to deliver to, or at least that’s my guess. It could be a map maybe, but that probably wouldn’t do much good since he’s time traveling?? How does he do it. Don’t question the magic of the postman I guess.

*green hill zone music intensifies*

Shoutout to Sky’s face here, I make the same expression when I’m trying to chase after my nephew and stop him from eating crayons

This looks like a postcard no joke, I'd frame this and put it on my wall. Plus the way the trees were done in the background is really neat, there’s something just really pleasing about this panel. Also the return of Sky: Just Standing There

They’re all bein silly <3

...except for Four. Because I think him and Warriors both realize that Sky isn’t just telling them what he was doing all morning— he’s got something important to say, something they all actually need to know.

(Downfall duo laughing together I love them)

Also I agree with everyone saying Warriors is close to snapping— they’ve all had a pretty stressful 24 hours, but Warriors has been breaking up arguments and repeatedly checking on everyone while they’re struggling, and... I don’t think he’s had a break. Take a nap bud, please?

SKY TALKING TO FI MY BELOVED he's hoping there’s enough of her aware to help him dowse hhhhh. And then he’s so sad she didn’t seem to hear him waahhh 😭

It doesn’t look to me like she truly helped much, but maybe Fi gave just enough of a nudge for Sky to find the postman’s footprints? Even in her sleep? She is glowing just a bit there... Interesting to think about.

It’s confirmed that the postman uses the portals! And that the Shadow is alive and kicking! Uh-oh! (Also does anyone else think this one seems more... firey? Then the last one? Maybe it's just me).

And the chopped-off darknut head is still there too.... and I’ll bet you twenty rupees somebody is going to kick it when the Links go through the portal later. (My guess is Wild but I’d put my money on Legend or Wind too).

I’m also really curious where that portal leads... My guess is either Twilight’s Hyrule or Sky’s, based on what hints we’ve been getting, but I really don’t know. It’ll be fun to see!

*Wind rapidly thinking of at least three conspiracy theories*: SUS

Also an amazing expression from him I’m laughing so hard, he really said 3:<

Tag yourself I’m Four

Also Sky just chugging away at the stamina potion, poor guy XD he must be beat from all that running around, I hope he has some more time to sit before the Links get moving.

(And I mentioned this in another post, but Legend looks so alarmed at this information, as does Wild... it’s not going to be pretty when they cross paths with the Shadow again, that’s for sure)

I love when Time breaks out the dramatic language... makes me remember that this guy is going to be the Hero’s Shade someday (who’s speech is 99% dramatic things).

Now the Links just have to decide what to do next... will they stay another day at the inn for Twilight’s sake, or get moving right away? Is Four going to confront Twilight about the dark magic he uses to turn into Wolfie?

So many questions... but in the meantime I will gladly continue to reread this amazing update, I really loved this one :D

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #linked universe analysis #lu sky #and a bunch of other guys I don't feel like taggig #update spoilers #rambles from the floor

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imrowanartist · 18 days

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Gaz dances with Rosie, while also realizing how fast his little girl is growing up 🥹

Tags: toothrotting fluff, humor, established PriceGaz, SFW

About 1200 words, continues under the cut

—

Afternoons like these, Kyle has found, are quickly becoming his favorite. He’s settled at the kitchen table, going over some paperwork, while over in the living room, there’s the soft rustling of paper as Rosie is keeping busy making drawing after drawing at the coffee table.

It’s peaceful. The sound of an animated film on the telly plays softly in the background and provides just enough white noise to keep Kyle’s focus on his work.

Today’s pick is Anastasia, and Kyle actually remembers that movie from his own childhood. It’s a sweet story and it’s even sweeter to see how much Rosie loves it. She’s been on a creative streak lately, redrawing her favorite characters from films, shows, and books alike. It’s something that Kyle and John have been supporting wholeheartedly, nurturing the imagination that she seems to have in abundance.

Lost in thought, Kyle doesn’t notice it when Rosie gets up from her spot and pads over to him until she’s suddenly pulling on his sleeve. He blinks back to the present, looking right into his daughter’s questioning face.

“Dad? Will you dance with me like they do in the film?” she asks and Kyle looks from the puppy eyes she’s giving him to the scene currently playing out on the telly.

It’s a ballroom scene with a whimsical song playing over it and he smiles when he remembers some of the lyrics.

“Of course,” he replies, in the most posh accent he can manage as he gets up. “May I have this dance, Princess Bee?”

He bows dramatically then swipes Rosie up in his arms as she giggles, “Dad, it’s Princess Rosanna—“

“Deepest apologies, your Highness.”

He turns up the sound of the telly, then starts swaying around the living room to the rhythm of the music, taking one of Rosie’s hands in his to mimic a ballroom dance. Her other hand is warm on his shoulder and her laughter in his ear is infectious.

Someone holds me safe and warm Anastasia sings and Kyle can’t help but press his daughter a little closer against him as they make another circle around the coffee table. They hum along to the song together as Kyle tries to take it all in, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. She’s growing up so fast and he’s all too aware that moments like these will not last forever.

He dips Rosie down, then pulls her back up, her cheeks flushed red and eyes wide with joy.

Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember

Kyle swallows against the lump in his throat as he suddenly remembers another instance of swaying around their flat with Rosie held in his arms. Though that had been in the middle of the night and she’d been only a few weeks old at the time; he and John sleep-deprived as they got up every few hours to feed her. It seems a lifetime ago now.

He’d do it all over again, knowing that it means he gets to have this.

“Do a pirouette!” Rosie demands and Kyle grins as he spins around in place until they’re both dizzy and breathless with laughter. As the song ends, he hugs her close and kisses her cheek over and over until Rosie giggles and pulls her face away with a mock grumble.

Behind him, Kyle can hear the front door of their flat opening and closing.

“Da, we’re dancing!” Rosie calls out and Kyle turns with her still in his arms to see his partner shrug out of his coat, back from running his errands.

“Are we now?” John smiles, toeing off his shoes and stepping towards them.

Kyle leans forward to snatch the remote from the table, rewinds to the start of the song, then drags John in by his sleeve.

“Her Highness Princess Rosanna-Bee demands it,” he says, gently swaying his hips as the music slowly intensifies. John holds his gaze for a moment, eyes twinkling and a smile pulling on his lips.

“Haven’t danced in a while, might step on your toes,” he comments, bringing his right arm around Kyle’s back to join them in their dance.

Rosie pats his shoulder in consolation. “That’s okay, Da. Just try your best.”

Kyle has to keep himself from snickering at her completely honest tone and the affronted look on John’s face in return. Then he pulls his partner along in a repeat of before, swirling around the living room to the beat of the music.

It’s clumsy and unpractical, with Rosie on his hip —who’s definitely not a toddler anymore, John’s arm around his back, and all three of their hands held together, but Kyle doesn’t care. All he cares about is the pure joy on his daughter’s face as he sings along to the lyrics this time, pitching his voice to reach the high notes.

They do another spin, and just before the song ends, Kyle trips over the coffee table and with an exaggerated cry, lets himself fall onto the sofa, on top of John, Rosie still held in his arms.

John lets out a loud oomph as he gets stuck underneath them, causing Rosie to laugh so hard she has tears in her eyes. She wriggles in Kyle’s grip till they’re face to face.

“A real Prince wouldn’t have dropped me,” she says pointedly and this time it’s Kyle’s turn to look affronted, feeling John chuckle underneath him.

“Excuse me,” he returns dryly, “A real Princess wouldn’t have a table in the middle of her ballroom.”

She scoffs, then climbs down from the both of them, dusting off her clothes like a real pretend royal. Before Kyle can get up too, he feels John’s arm snake around his waist and his beard nuzzle his neck.

“You’re still a real Prince to me,” his partner mumbles and Kyle just about melts in his grip. He shuffles around until they’re side by side, the sofa barely able to hold them. Kyle takes a moment to study John; the added grey in his hair and the wrinkles around his eyes. It only makes him look more handsome in Kyle’s humble opinion.

“If I’m a Prince, what does that make you? My dashing Knight?”

“Sure,” John hums, before leaning in for a kiss that Kyle returns happily. He could stay in this moment forever, just enjoying his family.

His daughter has other plans though.

“Ewwww,” Rosie groans, already tired of their mushy behaviour. She throws a pillow at them and they break apart with a laugh.

As she skips past the sofa, Kyle reaches out on a whim and pulls her back into his arms. He kisses her hair and the freckles on her cheeks and her nose, despite the loud protests in between her laughter.

She’s growing up so fast. It feels like Kyle has just blinked and here she is, eight years old already. With a curious mind and her own opinions, while it feels like yesterday he was still changing her diapers. He’s afraid that if he blinks again, she’ll be a teenager already.

So he presses her close against him, as he feels John’s arms around his waist, enjoying it all while he still can.

#kyle gaz garrick #captain price #pricegaz #gazprice #call of duty #modern warfare #Rosie garrick price #ro writes

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 5 months

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Music Jam Session

Bayverse!Michelangelo x reader

Just a short one shot with some music between Mikey and the reader before I go to bed🧡

Warnings: None.

—---------------------------------------------

The lair echoed with the rhythmic beats of Michelangelo's drumsticks against the practice pads. The vibrant energy of the orange clad turtle filled the air as he started his impromptu music jam session. Mikey, with his contagious enthusiasm, had suggested the idea of the two of you playing some music together, and soon enough the lair was filled with the sound of his drum set.

You found yourself sitting on a comfortable bean bag, surrounded by an array of musical instruments, watching your boyfriend closely. Mikey, in his element, effortlessly switched between the drums, guitar, and keyboard, before deciding to stick with his trustworthy drums. It was a delightful sight, watching his arms move and muscles flex as he used his drumsticks. If you could, you would be watching him all day.

As Mikey's beat intensified, he cast a playful grin your way. "Ready to rock, (Y/N)?" he called out, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

You picked up the microphone Mikey had begged you to use, nodding with a smile. "Absolutely, Mikey! Let's do this!"

The lair reverberated with a lively melody, a fusion of rock and ninja flair. Mikey's drumming set the pace, and soon you joined in, creating a harmonious chaos of sounds. You belted out the lyrics, your voice blending seamlessly with the crash and banging from Mikey’s drum set. The lair transformed into a lively concert hall, the walls pulsating with the raw energy of your impromptu performance.

In the midst of the music, Mikey initiated an energetic drum solo, showcasing his impressive skills. You placed one arm around his neck and kissed his temple as he continued to play.

As the song reached its peak, Mikey motioned for a dramatic pause. The lair fell silent for a brief moment before erupting into cheers and applause from the two of you. Both of you grinned, catching your breath with excitement.

"That was awesome!" you exclaimed, your eyes meeting Mikey's. "Who knew we had a ninja rock band in the lair?"

Mikey beamed with pride, his orange mask contrasting against the gleam in his eyes. "Turtle power, baby! We're not just skilled in ninjitsu; we've got musical chops too!"

“Shut the shell up!”, it sounded from Raph’s room, before the red brute came marching out. “Will the two of you just shut up?! I was trying to sleep!”

“But Raph, it’s in the middle of the day”, Mikey said, trying to hide an amused smile. You had to hide your smiling face on Mikey's shoulder, in order not to trigger your boyfriend’s angry brother even more.

“Doesn’t matter! I need my sleep!”, Raph rumpled. “I’ll go back to bed, so keep quiet!” The big turtle turned and walked back into his room.

As the two of you watched Raph walk away, Mikey turned to you with a mischievous smile. You already liked where this would be going.

“Wanna play another round, angelcake?”, he asked, smiling knowingly.

“There’s nothing I’d rather do”, you answered with a smile just as mischievous as Mikey’s.

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seireiteihellbutterfly · 5 months

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Vanilla Twilight

Rating: E! Super safe. Type: Drabble Premise : Gojo is known for being dramatic when he isn't near you 24/7. When you don't wish him goodbye, he comes up with a musical solution. Pairing : Gojo x reader Tone : light hearted, fluffy, cute, humorous

"Huh, music?" You pause in your teaching as the faint sound of melancholic pop flows through your window. Your students look around curiously as it gets louder.

Nobara's eyes widen suddenly. "This sounds so familiar... Is it... Owl City?”

The other students murmur in agreement. Bewildered, you try to get your students attention back to the lesson but the music kept getting louder. Then...

"The stars lean down to kiss you And I lie awake and miss you Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere"

Someone was singing, their voice amplified right underneath the window of your classroom. You recognize it and close your eyes.

He didn't... He wouldn't...

Bordering between amusement and exasperation you go over to the window and peek out. Sure enough, a familiar cloud of fluffy, white, hair is visible. A large speaker on wheels has been brought over with him. Your students are are unable to contain their curiosity as they flock to the window.

"Eh? Gojo sensei?" Yuji looks over the sill in fascination.

"I'll watch the night turn light blue But it's not the same without you Because it takes two to whisper quietly"

Gojo expertly sings into the mic. He looks up at you, and even with the blindfold, you can tell there's an adoring look in his eyes.

"For heaven's sake Gojo." You cover your face with a palm. "I had to leave early to get to work! That's why I didn't wake you up in the morning!"

In response, Gojo shakes his head as if to say not good enough and keeps singing.

"The silence isn't so bad 'Til I look at my hands and feel sad 'Cause the spaces between my fingers Are right where yours fit perfectly"

You had to admit, he has a nice voice. But his antics had reached a whole new level with this seranade.

"Cmon! You were sound asleep! What was I supposed to have done!" you shout out the window.

"But drenched in vanilla twilight I'll sit on the front porch all night Waist deep in thought because when I think of you, I don't feel so alone"

Your students are torn between wanting to laugh and also empathize with you. They've seen enough of the ridiculous stunts Gojo pulls on you when he's needy. With a resolute expression, Megumi walks out of the classroom and towards where Gojo had set up his concert.

"You didn't need to go this far! You would have come in and seen me here at work anyway!"

You're still trying to reason with Gojo, but this only makes him sing louder.

"When violet eyes get brighter And heavy wings grow lighter -”

“Hey what are you doing?!"

With a loud whine of feedback, the mic gets pulled out of the speaker socket and shuts off. Then a blast of curse energy hits the speaker, wrecking it beyond recognition.

"Megumi! I raised you to be better than this! How will my lady know I missed her now?"

Wordlessly, Megumi walks away, his job done. Pouting, Gojo looks up at the window and catches sight of your face. You groan and press your temples.

"Class dismissed". The students clamor out, talking about what just happened. You walk outside to your moping boyfriend as he sits on on the grass.

"Proud of yourself?" you ask him.

"I just... Wanted you to know I missed you. I don't like waking up alone in our bed." His pout intensifies, making him look like a neglected puppy.

"Oh Gojo." You sit down next to him and pull his head onto your shoulder. "Why are you such an idiot?"

You stroke his hair as he moves closer to you.

"Not just any idiot. YOUR idiot." he grins widely at you.

You smile back at him and let him give you soft kiss. He had somehow won this round.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fandom #jujustsu kaisen x reader #fluff #cute #jjk gojo #fanfiction

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razorblade180 · 8 months

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Aether:*throws apple away*

misses trash can

Dramatic music intensifies

Furina:WELL! WELL! WELL! *raises from trash can* Littering!? In my great nation of Hydro!? For shame; illegal in fact! I hereby sentence you to-

Aether:*tries tying bag*

Furina:Ahh! Stop it! I’m still in here!!!

Aether:That’s kinda the point. Also, even if I wasn’t about to pick up my trash, apples are biodegradable! Are your mechs when they breakdown!?

Furina:Jokes on you! We have a metal compost facility! If you cared more about the environment you would know that before making such an accusation! I hereby-

Aether:If you want to see me so badly then just ask me!

Furina:….

Aether:…..

Furina:….*red* Harassment!

Aether:HARAS- *grabs collar* You’re in a trash bin!!!

Furina:Clorinde! Prevent this assault! Face the perpetrator!

Clorinde:Please let go.

Aether:*let’s go*

Furina:…You were supposed to draw your blade in my defense.

Clorinde:Neuvillette told me to stop doing that on command unless necessary.

Furina:Why is that man so boring!? *steps out of trash bin* Until we meet again, Golden Traveler!

Aether:…(I should’ve let the apple hit her.)

#genshin impact #gi furina #gi aether #gi clorinde

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imorphemi · 5 months

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'samba music intensifies'

I've been going to a lot of ballroom dance comps lately and I cannot stop imagining my favs dancing along as well. Samba has to be one of my favorite dances and I am dying to learn it. It's just so high energy and most of all it looks so damn fun. I couldn't resist drawing Ed and Winry dancing as well :D

Some more headcanons about the fma crew:

Al likes the contact involved so he likes the standard and nightclub styles best

Ed usually leads but if Winry wants to lead well he's not going to say no, but he is more experienced in leading. The two usually dance Smooth or Latin and they are terrifying in quickstep

Roy only knows nightclub dances until Riza forced him to learn other styles for military events, but he absolutely kills it in West Coast Swing

Riza knows Standard best, though she has less experience in most of the other styles, she's a really good follow and can follow just about anything. She's also a really good lead for Standard and by some extension Smooth

Ling, Lan Fan, and Mei are newer to ballroom dance (sorry guys i may be chinese but idk any chinese dances) but once introduced, well Ling is a diehard for the dramatics and LanFan is usually willing to comply. They start off learning Smooth, while Mei jumps straight into nightclub with Al

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causekarmaismyboyfriend · 11 months

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Annoying Boy

PT.2 HERE

Fem!14yr!Reader x 14yr!Ranpo

Summary: Your father, Fukuzawa, brings home Ranpo and you're left to deal with him. His 'special ability' reveals some cracks in the story your father has always told you regarding your mother's death.

Warnings: Fukuzawa somewhat neglection and disregarding reader's feelings(?), Mention of a mother's death.

A/N: Part 2 if this does good? Proofread✅

The heels of their feet thump against the matted carpet of the hallway as Fukuzawa leads Ranpo to his apartment.

"Here." Fukuzawa stops in front of the door, Ranpo observes the ragged hallway as the older man reaches into his sleeves to retrieve his keys.

Ranpo messes with a part of the ugly green carpet that had begun sticking up at the edges, using the front of his shoe to step on it in an attempt to stick it back down to the concrete it laid on. He cringes at the sound it makes when it rips from the concrete to stick back up again. He hums a sound of confusion when he realizes that Fukuzawa hasn't opened the door and let them in yet.

Fukuzawa sighs and turns towards the younger boy. "I forgot to tell you," Fukuzawa puts the key into the lock after missing one or two times that Ranpo finds himself holding back laughter at. "I have a daughter, Y/N, around your age." He turns the key and pushes the door open. "Her old bed is still in her room it's a little old and beat up, but it should be fine, so you'll be sharing." Fukuzawa closes the door behind them. Next to the shoe rack was a bicycle. Fukuzawa notices Ranpo observing the bike. "Some things are best left unsaid."

Ranpo huffs as the two begin taking their shoes off. The thought of having to share a bedroom with someone he hasn't even met yet annoyed him. Why couldn't he just make his daughter sleep on the couch? He follows Fukuzawa through the apartment, examining all the rooms he goes through. The apartment was small only two bedrooms with one bathroom. He noticed as he walked past the dining table that there was only two chairs and he wondered if Fukuzawa would be bothered to get a third. In the corner of the table was a framed photo of a black cat with big yellow eyes, imbedded in the frame was 'Mr. Paws.' He hadn't seen a cat or any food or water bowls since he entered, so he assumed the cat died or something not bothering to put much though into it.

They stop at a door down the hallway with peeling white paint. Faint music seeps from under the door. Fukuzawa knocks on the door a few times before speaking. "Y/N? Turn that down and open the door." He wiggles the doorknob of the locked door.

Behind the door the music barely lowers and Fukuzawa rolls his eyes before the door clicks unlock and opens. The music seems louder through the open doorway. Y/N leans on the doorframe, glancing at Ranpo and then looking away deciding he wasn't important enough to ask about. She looks at her father with a bored expression. "What?"

Fukuzawa clears his throat. Ranpo takes notice of the similarities of their personalities as they interact. Fukuzawa gestures to Ranpo. "This is Ranpo. He needs somewhere to stay, so he'll be here."

Y/N shrugs. "Okay." Silence takes over the three. Fukuzawa raises his eyebrows at his daughter and motions behind her to the abandoned bed that sat in the corner of the room. She groans and slumps dramatically. "Dad, no, I don't know him." She complains and points to Ranpo.

Ranpo crosses his arms and his eyebrow twitches as she talks. "Then why don't you sleep on the couch and I take the room?"

Y/N's eyebrows scrunch together and she pushes off the doorframe, stepping closer to Ranpo. "Excuse me-?"

Fukuzawa steps in-between the two and holds up a hand in front of both their faces. "Okay, that's enough." He lowers his hands and turns towards Y/N while still staying in-between them. "Ranpo will be using the extra bed in your room and if you have a problem with it then you can sleep in the living room."

Y/N's mouth falls agape as her frustration intensifies and her face flushes. "Well, why can't he take the bed and share a room with you-?"

"Y/N, I told you what was going to happen." Fukuzawa hisses.

Y/N tightens her lips into a thin line. "Fine."

Fukuzawa nods. "Good." He looks between the two before speaking again. "I'm going to cook dinner, okay?" The two nod. In the music that is still blaring from the room a curse word is mustered while Fukuzawa is walking away. "And turn that off!" He demands before disappearing around the corner at the end of the hallway.

Y/N groans and glares at the boy left in front of her before turning on her heel and walking back into her- their room. Ranpo follows behind her and watches as she shuts the music off. He walks over to the old bed. The frame is dark brown with random scribbles over it's wood. There wasn't a sheet or any blankets or pillows.

He turns back to Y/N's side of the room, she climbs up the ladder leading up to her loft bed, underneath it was a desk with a laptop and a display of framed pictures and other random trinkets. It creaks as she settles against the pillows.

Ranpo sets his backpack at the foot of his new bed before making his way to her desk and picking up one of the photos, not bothering to ask permission. He instantly recognized Fukuzawa standing behind a chair where a women sat and was holding a little girl in her lap. All three of them were smiling widely. Y/N stops the action of putting her headphones on and leans over the railing to look at him.

"What are you doing?" She asks harshly, moving towards the ladder to make her way back down. "Don't touch my stuff." She snatches the photo from him and places it back in its place.

"That's your mom, right?" He asks. Y/N glares at him.

"Why do you care?" Ranpo shrugs and Y/N scoffs climbing back up to her bed. "Don't touch my stuff anymore." She puts her headphones over her ears and ignores any other words from him.

Ranpo shrugs, this time to himself, and sits on the old bed. He moves into a lying position the stiff mattress and lack of pillows uncomfortable against his back and neck.

A few minutes go by the only sound being Fukuzawa in the kitchen until Y/N breaks the silence. "She died awhile ago," Y/N turns off her phone and sets it in her lap, staring at the ceiling. "When I was really little."

Ranpo blows air through his lips. Controlling the timing between each blow to make some kind of rhythm. When he doesn't reply Y/N picks her phone back up.

"I know." He says suddenly.

Y/N rolls her eyes. "Oh," She turns the phone off again. "Did Dad tell you?"

Ranpo sits up and turns to look at Y/N. He shakes his head. "No, I just know."

Y/N scoffs. "Yeah, right." She turns the phone on again and begins scrolling back through her playlist.

"It's true!" Ranpo stands up and proudly places his hands on his hips. "I'm a genius detective- the greatest in the world! I helped your Dad solve a case and because I have no home or job he's giving me both!" He removes one of his hands off his hip and holds up two fingers.

Y/N stares blankly at him from up on the loft. "Yeah, and now I'm stuck with you."

"A honor, really."

"Really?"

Ranpo nods. "Yep!" Ranpo makes his way towards her bed again this time to climb up the ladder. Despite her protests he climbs up to join her on the mattress, staying at the foot of the bed.

"Hey!" She waves her hands towards him. Motioning for him to get off. "Get off my bed Detective Jackass!"

Ranpo holds a finger out in front of her face. "Not until I prove to you that I am the greatest detective!" He pulls his hand back. "I'll start by telling you how your mother died."

Y/N's eyebrows scrunch and she crosses her arms. "Okay, I wouldn't be surprised if you got it by just guessing." She admits.

Ranpo smiles and reaches into his pocket to pull out a pair of glasses. Y/N raises a brow. He places them on his face, pushing them up on the bridge of his nose with a finger. Opening his eyes for the first time since they've met. Y/N took note of their bright emerald green colour, distracted she missed what he said.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said," He takes the glasses off and shoves them back in his pocket. "You killed her."

Y/N huffs out a laugh and stares at him in confusion. "Excuse me? And what were those glasses for? Special effect?"

Ranpo shakes his head. "Your dad covered up the incident by lying to you and saying she died in a car crash. You were too young to remember, so it probably wasn't that hard to keep up the lie for years."

She was beginning to feel angry with the boy again. He showed up out of no where, insisted he was some weird super genius and then started sprouting random lies about her mother.

"I think you've lost your goddamn mind." She gritted her teeth.

"He tried to comfort you by getting you a cat, Mr. Paws, but he ran away a year later." When Y/N didn't say anything he continued. "You hate cars because of what he told you, so you prefer riding bikes or just walking-"

"Okay, stop!" She holds both her hands up. "None of that proves anything. You're just saying bullshit."

Ranpo smiles again. "But nobody has told me these things, so how could I have known?" Y/N's eyebrow twitches as she stares down the grinning boy.

Fukuzawa walks in through the open doorway. He glares at Ranpo who sits on his daughter's bed. "Okay, a rule starting right now is that you two are not allowed to sit on each other's beds with each other."

Y/N claps her hands together as if in a prayer. "Thank, God."

Fukuzawa sighs and motions for both of them to get down. "Come in here, dinners ready." He disappears out the bedroom door.

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs ranpo #x reader #ranpo x y/n #ranpo x reader #ranpo and fukuzawa #fukuzawa yukichi #fluff #cause karma is my boyfriend #ranpo edogawa #ranpo my beloved #fanfic #fem reader

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