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mokulule · 5 months

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Take Out for Dummies - Part 3

Aka Danny has been hired to take out Red Hood, there may or may not have been a misunderstanding.

First | Masterpost

Jason had carefully checked their surrounding for cameras, but they ended up doing as Danny had suggested, sitting back to back each with their own collection of various meats and vegetables on sticks.

Danny groaned and leaned his weight back against Jason. “What is it about food on a stick that makes it so delicious?”

Jason chuckled, “I don’t know.”

It was simple fare, charred just the right amount from the grill and spicy in a way that warmed.

There was a moment of silence.

“You have a very nice voice, you know? Like I get the voice modulation is meant to be scary and all and it makes sense. Just… you have a nice voice.”Jason swallowed. He wasn’t sure why his throat felt so tight all of a sudden.

“Thanks.” He didn’t know what else to say.

They finished eating and Danny jumped up with renewed restless energy, still turned away from Jason.

“Tell me when you’re decent.”

Jason snorted as he pulled the helmet back on and it came online. “I’ll show you indecent.”

Danny squeaked. Jason turned around to find him hiding his face in his hands in embarrassment. At least Jason wasn’t the only one with the dirty thoughts.

“Alright-“ Jason peeled one of Danny’s hands away to hold it, “show the way. Are we breaking in?”

“Uh-“ Danny looked from Jason to the hand, his cheeks were dusted a very becoming pink - turnabout really was fair play. Finally he seemed to come back online as he shook his head.

“No, I have a key.”

Jason grabbed the trash bag in his other hand as Danny was still carting around his unicorn.

“Why do you have a key to the ice rink?”

“I do maintenance here sometimes, so I asked to borrow the rink for tonight.”

“Are there anyone in Gotham you don’t know at this point?”

“I’m sure there are plenty still,” Danny answered the rhetorical question as he opened the roof access door. Why that was the door he had a key to was another question entirely. Though they may of course just all use the same key.

They went down a stairwell and out into the cold hall with the frozen rink as centerpiece. Jason eyed Danny’s thin button down shirt, if he’d planned this why hadn’t he brought a jacket?

“There’s skates over there,” Danny pointed to the skate renting counter on the left side of the room. “will you grab me a pair of size seven skates, while I turn on some music and lights?”

Jason did as asked jumping the counter. There was a convenient trash can behind the counter where he could dump the bag.

When he returned to the main hall with skates in hand his eyes widened. When Danny had said turn on the lights he hadn’t expected them to be from those multicolored disco balls, nor for the music to put them back to the 70’s with an upbeat disco track.

“What do you think?” Danny yelled from where he ducked out from an operator room.

“It’s something alright,” Jason yelled back as he sat down on one of the benches and started pulling his boots off. He snorted as he realized something: if this was still an elaborate hit, Danny would be the type to love the double pun of taking out Red Hood by putting him on ice.

Jason didn’t actually think this was a hit. Hadn’t thought so in quite a while. He’d let his guard down.

Danny walked over with that small smile on his face that made Jason wonder if this was just his base state; just happy, enjoying himself, doing his little odd jobs, helping kids out for pebbles because he could, taking Red Hood out on a date.

Jason still didn’t know what to think about that. Like even if he genuinely thought whoever asked him to take out Red Hood meant on a date, there was still that logic break where Danny had decided, yeah sure sounds like a fun time, let’s just corner the former crime lord current vigilante on a rooftop in the middle of the night to ask his date preferences.

Danny was definitely not normal in any sense of the word, but Jason found that he couldn’t help but like that. Some good kind of crazy in this city for once.

“Never been to a skating disco before?” Danny asked when he within easy speaking range.

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Well not that there’s really any expectations here since it’s just the two of us, so we can do whatever.” Danny grinned, sat down next Jason and pulled his shoes off. He was in his skates and jumping to his feet in no time at all. He wobbled, and windmilled his arms so as not to fall and Jason had to grab him and steady him.

“Are you sure you have tried this before?”

“I’ll have you know I’m a great skater.” Danny sniffed, brushing Jason off, as he started awkwardly walking towards the rink in his skates.

“Just not at walking in them.”

Danny sent him a bewildered look. “Nobody is good at walking in skates.”

Jason rolled his eyes and tightened and tied off the last lace. He didn’t jump up carelessly like Danny, instead he rose and took careful steps. While it was indeed neither comfortable or normal to walk on the bladed edge of the skates, he did make it seem a great deal more natural than Danny had.

Danny stuck out his tongue at him for that and Jason couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Join me on the ice and we’ll see who’s laughing.” With that he stepped onto the ice in a languid, confident glide, that immediately made it clear, that Danny did indeed know how to skate.

But Jason was no slouch either. He could skate even if it’s been a while and he never said no to a challenge. It took a moment for Jason to get used to the ice below his feet, but he quickly gained both speed and confidence.

Danny caught his eyes then with a wink, turned, and built up speed in a few quick glides and then he was jumping off the ice, spinning in the air and at what seemed like last moment he landed on just one leg, the other leg stretched out behind him as he leaned forward in something almost like a bow.

Okay so it turns out Danny couldn’t just skate he could skate. As in he could do not just spins but flips - Jason could do flips fine on the ground; he was not quite Dick enough to try it on ice. Of course Danny was also being a little shit about it.

There was something about that smile he was sporting that made Jason just want to reach out and grab him - and do what? He wasn’t sure. But there was an invite to try and catch him in the way he glided around Jason, responding to Jason’s movements by darting away like a fish only to come back, but never close enough to reach.

Jason smiled. Okay, he would bite.

When next Danny passed, he lunged. Danny shot forward with a delighted laugh. Jason wasn’t far behind him, but Danny’s turns were needle point sharp as he lead Jason on a merry chase across the ice. He was slippery as a fucking eel, the way he kept himself just shy of Jason’s fingertips every time he reached for him.

He was doing it on purpose too, Jason realized. He was letting Jason get close only to twist and turn and escape with a laugh and leave Jason to regain the balance he lost by lunging. Jason didn’t immediately pick up the chase this time.

“What’s the matter Hood? Can’t keep up?”Jason huffed. No, he couldn’t. That much was clear at this point. But that didn’t mean the game was over. It only meant Jason had to work smarter not harder. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and started on a leisured circuit of the rink.

“Did you skate a lot as a kid?”

Danny came into Jason’s field of view, skating backwards effortlessly. There was a slight pout on his face at the interrupted game, but he answered Jason’s question, “Not really.”

“Huh, how did you learn to skate then?” Jason asked surprised.

That wiped away Danny’s pout and Jason felt a twinge of anticipation for what surely boded another fun story, but nothing could have prepared him for what actually came out of Danny’s mouth.

“I was taught by a yeti named Frostbite, he’s like my mentor in everything ice.”

“A yeti?” Jason spluttered.

Danny grinned in a way that showed he knew exactly how outrageous it sounded, but still kept his voice perfectly even when he said, “yes, it’s their national sport.”

Jason laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Uh huh, and where did you meet this yeti?”

“A place called the Far Frozen, not many people have heard of it. They tend to be rather reclusive.”

Danny didn’t falter one moment in his explanation. He either had a selection of stories he told or he was extremely good at improvising. He was also suddenly within reach, guard down as he thought Red Hood had given up on the game.

Jason lunged. Danny’s eyes widened comically as he realized his mistake and tried to backpedal, but it was too late. Jason had him wrapped in his arms. They both went down overbalanced from Danny’s struggle. Jason twisted them so he took the brunt of the fall. Danny didn’t deserve to be caught beneath 225 pounds of vigilante even if he’d been asking for it.

They laid there on the ice catching their breaths.

“Bastard, you caught me.” Danny finally spoke giggling like he couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have-“ Jason stopped, finally noticing how cold Danny was. “You’re freezing!”

“No really it’s fine-“ Danny protested as Jason pulled him back up, but Jason wouldn’t have it.

“Who forgets to wear a jacket when going skating,” Jason grumbled pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around Danny shoulders. It looked comically large hanging off Danny’s small frame, but Jason only gave himself a small moment to appreciate it before drawing Danny close again.

It took a moment but then Danny relaxed into the hold.

“How’s this? Better?” Jason asked after a while.

Danny looked up his eyes wide and blue and maybe a little overwhelmed. “Y-yeah.”

Jason frowned looking around to locate the bench where their shoes were. “We should probably get out of this cold.”

“No,” Danny said immediately pressing close, then flinched, before saying quietly, “can we just stay like this for a bit?”

Jason blinked in confusion. It didn’t make sense to stay in the cold, but he found himself agreeing quietly.

The music at this point had turned to quieter songs. Jason was starting to feel the cold himself by staying still, and he started to sway to the music, moving just a little across the ice. Danny looked up. He wiggled around and it took only a moment for him to actually find the sleeves and push his arms through. Jason let go to let him and soon found his hands captured in still cold but no longer freezing hands.

“Dance with me?” Danny asked.

Jason couldn’t say no to that, but “I’ve never danced on ice before.”

Danny grinned and glided back in close, getting them positioned for a waltz. “It doesn’t have to be right, but you lead and I’ll follow and make sure we don’t fall on our asses.”

Jason scoffed as he lead them into a glide that had Danny moving along mostly backwards on the ice.

“You don’t trust me to follow.”

“No,” Danny grinned, “But I do trust you to catch me.”

Jason rolled his eyes fondly behind the helmet. Then dipped Danny suddenly to make him prove it. There wasn’t a hint of struggle, he stayed relaxed in his hold as if they’d danced together like this a million times. Jason didn’t know what to do with that, and pulled him back up.

Jason didn’t know how long they danced. Danny had started talking quietly after a while admitting he hadn’t gone on a date since he went to high school, and got Jason to admit he liked reading. but he did know his feet were starting to hurt. Still he was reluctant for it to be over.

It was only when Danny failed in hiding a yawn they left the rink.

Jason rolled the bike to a smooth stop putting one foot down to keep balance. He let go of the handlebars and straightened up to allow Danny to get off.

However instead of getting off Danny took off the helmet, hung it on a handlebar and twisted around bringing his legs up until he faced Jason and could wrap them lightly around Jason’s waist. Jason’s mind went blank at the way it brought them closer, the only thing keeping the position somewhat decent for the public was the unicorn now squished between them. If Jason now wished he’d never won the thing, that was a secret he was taking to his second grave.

“So,” Danny said conversationally, wrapping his arms loosely around Jason’s neck, leaning his forearms on his shoulders almost thoughtfully, “I had fun.” He smiled. “I hope you also had fun, that was the whole purpose after all.”

He paused - maybe waiting for a response, but Jason didn’t even know what to say. He certainly wasn’t going to admit he had fun. That was- Red Hood wouldn’t do that. He’d already behaved way too much like himself tonight.

There was a momentary frown on Danny’s face before it smoothed out replaced by a soft smile, that Jason had no idea what to do with. “This is the point where a successful date is usually rewarded with a kiss - you can say no?”

Jason stiffened.

Surely he wasn’t going to?!

Danny leaned in, his smile turned wicked for a moment as his hands splayed out on either side of the helmet. Jason needed to stop him, but instead his traitorous hands landed on Danny’s waist.

He needed to push him away; he didn’t.

Danny’s hands tightened on the helmet, pulling-

Except he didn’t pull the helmet off, he just pulled Jason closer and tilted his head backwards and then pressed his lips to the helmet, right were his mouth would have been. It was chaste, but not just a quick peck. No, it was a slow and languid press in a way that made Jason all too aware that there was little more than an inch between their lips, but it might as well have been miles for the barrier between them. Slow in a way that made Jason’s breath catch in his throat and his treacherous brain wish Danny had removed the fucking helmet.

Danny drew back, his blue eyes practically sparkling in mischief and he lightly bonked his forehead against the helmet before twisting around again and jumping off, Jason letting him reluctantly.

“See you around, Hood.” Danny waved once before he started walking down the road, unicorn plushie under one arm, utterly unafraid to walk the most crime ridden streets of Gotham in the early hours of the morning. Presumably he was going home to his mystery residence.

Jason should follow him. It was the perfect time to find out more about the mystery that was Odd-Job Danny. It was why he’d agreed to the date in the first place. Right?

Instead his brain was going around in circles, wondering if he had pulled up his helmet when Danny first mentioned the kiss, not pulled it off of course, just up to his nose or so, would Danny have gone through with it? Would he have actually kissed him? Or did he only do it because he knew the helmet was there in between them?

Did Jason want him to kiss him?

Fuck. He did.

Danny was gone now, nowhere to be seen. Whatever chance he’d had of figuring out more was gone. And yet that seemed the least of Jason’s problems.

So that's the end of the date, though of course not the end of the story. Consider commenting or writing something in the tags if you liked it, things irl are gonna be very busy for the next year so I could use all the motivation for writing I can scrape together. You can subscribe at the masterpost for future updates. Next

#take out for dummies #dead on main #dp x dc

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hisunshiine · 9 months

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—it’s the way that you can ride [3/7]

Part 3 of 7 of the Seven Days Series ↣ series masterlist

🗓️pairing: nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader 🗓️au/genre: non-idol au, brother’s friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut 🗓️rating: M 🗓️wc: 4,622 🗓️warnings: emotionally constipated pairing, reader is older, adult worries, growing older, dating younger, time passing and not hitting milestones everyone else is, second-hand embarrassment, enter Kim Seokjin as an antagonist, Jungkook is so hot but his feelings are too big, angsty cliffhanger explicit sexual content: unprotected sex, light bondage, talks of a safeword, oral (m & f receiving), discussion of safeword, Jungkook is whiny, positions of 69, face riding, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, and jack-hammer, biting, multiple orgasms, creampie. 🗓️an: part 3!!! I apologize in advance for the ending cliffhanger, but hey, it's the angst that makes the story, amirite? 😭 🗓️summary: “It’s the way that you can ride, it’s the way that you can ride…” Picking an outfit for a wedding is hard enough without your friends with benefits turning you on. Especially when he makes a tie look so sexy, you can’t help but use it to get him right where you need him to be. Ties make great reigns, and Jungkook is willing for you to be the leading lady, in more ways than one.

Taglist: @sizzlingfestpeach @mochminnie @jungkooksmytype @kookslastbutton @taebangtanbabe (if joining the taglist, please think about reblogging with tags/leaving feedback!)

The smell of antiseptic cleaner might be pungent to some, but for Jungkook, it’s non-existent. He sits in the hallway of the unit, typing away at one of the portable computers used to write up notes on patients. He picked up a shift to help balance the few days he plans to take off for Yoongi’s wedding, and once he gets off at 2 PM, he plans to head straight to your place so he can figure out an outfit formal enough to wear to the wedding.

“Hey, Jungkook, you finished your DAR notes fast. In a hurry? It’s a little early for you to be rushing off to get your fix,” Dr. Kim Seokjin teases him as he approaches, scrolling through a tablet.

“Actually, I am headed there, but not for what you’re thinking, nosy.” Jungkook puts the finishing touches on the last patient’s notes. He’s proud to say he carried out all of his assigned responses to patient action plans Dr. Kim assigned, and once his relief shows up, they’ll reap the benefits of all his hard work on day shift. “I have to finalize my formal outfit for Yoongi’s wedding.”

“You don’t know what you’re wearing yet? I’m surprised you aren’t wearing matching outfits with a certain someone…actually, I’m waiting on when it will be her walking down the aisle to you.”

“Seokjin, fuck off.” Jungkook knows he’s being sensitive, but right now, he’s confused and stressed about this wedding.

“Listen, you guys need to come clean to Yoongi, and then come clean to each other. It doesn’t take a doctor to diagnose you both as lovesick.”

“Seriously, hyung. It’s…complicated.”

Jungkook is about to elaborate, but just then, another voice chimes in.

“What’s complicated? Do you need help?” SoHee bounds into view from behind Seokjin, her hair braided and scrubs a soft pink to compliment the light blush dusting her cheekbones.

“Nothing.”

“Jungkook here’s thinking about bringing a plus one to Yoongi’s wedding. Hey, you’re going aren’t you?” Seokjin spills, making Jungkook huff out an angry exhale.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be there!” SoHee shares. “Yoongi invited quite a few of us from the school. To be honest, I think it was to get a larger haul of wedding gifts. I guess if I bring a plus one, we could split the gift…”

Seokjin laughs, but Jungkook just chuckles, feeling a little awkward.

“Well, maybe you can go to the wedding as Jungkook’s date?”

“Hyung.” Jungkook shoots a burning stare at Seokjin, but he ignores it, continuing to push the agenda.

“You’re not going with anyone yet, and SoHee here is a perfect option. Unless you have someone in mind?” Seokjin gives Jungkook a challenging stare.

“I mean, I would love to go with you, SoHee,” he answers, looking to her eager face, “I just have to make sure of some things. I’ll let you know, though, okay?”

“Of course, Jungkook! I look forward to hearing from you.”

A page sounds off over the speakers on the floor, and Jungkook glances at the clock, seeing he’s free to escape Seokjin and his terrible attempt at prescribing a cure for his diagnosis. He bids farewell to SoHee, but Seokjin follows him towards the staff lounge. Once they’re alone, Jungkook rounds on him.

“Are you insane? Now SoHee is going to expect me to take her on Sunday!”

“And? I thought you liked her?”

“I do, but it's complicated, like I said.”

“Just…think about it. SoHee is totally into you and willing to take it to the next step. I know you’re enjoying your sexcapades, but don’t you want more?” Jungkook just shrugs before pulling off his scrubs to change back into his street clothes. Seokjin sighs, shaking his head as he turns to leave. “I can prescribe something for your emotional constipation if that would be better?”

“Fuck off, Jin!”

Music plays loudly as you search your closet for something to wear. You bought a few formal pieces, making sure to keep the tags on until you make a final decision on a dress, but if you’re being honest with yourself, you know exactly why you have yet to make a decision. The sound of your door opening as Jungkook lets himself in with his spare key (because who wants to get up out of a comfy bed every night to let in a horny muscle bunny just to get back into said bed?) reminds you to stop being honest with yourself and continue to lie; it’s easier that way.

“Babe, I’m here and I have, like, seven different tie options. Help.” Jungkook appears in your bedroom doorway with a vinyl-zippered garment bag and another small bag clutched tightly in his hand.

“Seven options? They had that big of a variety when looking for eucalyptus and sage?” You reach for the smaller bag, guessing correctly that it held various ties in the shades mentioned. “Wow, color me surprised.”

“No, go color yourself eucalyptus or sage so we can make sure these tie colors are suitable.” Jungkook orders you back towards your closet while he begins to shrug off his hoodie.

“What color suits are you debating between?” you call out as you step into the silky sage dress. It’s a little too frilly for your liking, making you feel younger than you like. 2004 is calling and they want their clothing back.

“I have a navy blue, a black, and a grey suit,” he responds, and you tell him to try them on one at a time, sans tie, to see which one looks and feels the best first. Then you’ll help him narrow down the tie options from there.

Stepping out of the closet, you hug your dress to your chest and ask Jungkook to zip you up. He does so, but his response to the dress is just so-so. You knew before you put it on that you probably were not going with this one, and his reaction only solidifies that. The navy blue tuxedo on Jungkook is nice, but upon close inspection, the jacket button sits a little too high, making his torso look shorter than it is.

“Okay, let’s see the black one. This one is a little too tight now that your chest has grown.”

Shimmying out of the dress, you return to grab a floral print dress with shades of lichen green sprinkled all throughout. It’s body-con and knee-length, and missing that umph that you want in a formal dress, but you didn’t have many options in the colors Yoongi chose.

“That’s better than the sage one.” Jungkook appraises you, but you can tell this one is not right for you either.

“I have a few more, but I think I know which one will work best.” Eyeing Jungkook’s black slacks, you stop him before he puts on the jacket. “ No. Definitely not. The pants are high-waters, did you get that thing when you were in high school?”

Jungkook’s ears turn red as he ignores your question, and you realize you hit the nail on the head.

“I mean…maybe?” He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“Okay, last suit. Hopefully it fits, or we’re running to the mall.” Back in the closet, you reach for the hanger of the dress you really love. It’s a eucalyptus-colored floor-length gown, with an A-line cut, spaghetti straps, and a thigh slit. You try to zip up the dress as far as you can, but you don’t want to ruin the presentation by walking out just yet. “Jungkook, can you zip me in here, please?”

His slippered feet shuffle along the carpet as he steps into the dim closet, fingers warm where they skim your back as he closes the dress. You shoo him back out into your well-lit bedroom before gracefully walking out on tip-toes. Jungkook lets out a wolf-whistle.

“Damn, you have to wear that. You look like a goddess.” You can tell he’s not lying or offering flattery for no reason. His eyes are a portal into his true thoughts and he’s shit at lying. A giddy feeling fills your chest, reminiscent of puppy love. “Okay, now me.”

You look up at him and the soft grey of the suit complements his honey-glazed skin well. You have him spin in a slow circle, and despite the pants being slightly snug, you know that’s not something you can fix without a tailor on short notice—the man has a nice ass and with his slim waist and long legs…It looks good.

“Perfect.” Your voice is almost a whisper as you step into his orbit, hand reaching for the ties to see which one looks best. Jungkook is still, letting you color match his suit and he thinks you’re also subtly seeing which one matches the color of your dress as well. He wishes for the umpteenth time that he could just…convince you to say what you’re thinking at this moment. Why don’t you tell him that you want to match? That you want to be his plus one? He’s sure that’s what your actions mean. So why don’t you ever tell him?

“Are you sure? Maybe I shouldn’t wear this color, you know?” Jungkook asks timidly, testing. “Your brother really wants us all in his wedding colors?”

“Yes, he explicitly said we had to wear the colors. They won’t have bridesmaids or groomsmen—you know Yoongi and his minimalist agenda, but his fiancé still wants to have wedding photos with all of us, so we have to coordinate.” You pout as you answer him, fixing the tie as you finish the last loop and pull through. “Why? You don’t want to match with me?” The way your eyes look at him, all wide-eyed and lovey-dovey has him backpedaling.

“Babe, you know I do, I would choose to match with you even if we didn’t have to.” Jungkook finds himself admitting, and kicking himself in the ass if he could, for revealing way too much about how he feels about you, without anything in return. Well, the way the furrow between your brows disappears and your pout turns into a cute smile is definitely a reward, but it’s not the same.

You turn, asking him to unzip you again, and then you shuffle back into the closet to disrobe from the dress. He wishes he could see you wear it for a little longer, because you look so gorgeous in it, but he knows that this isn’t his last chance. He shucks off the suit, carefully placing the pants and jacket back into the garment bag. Lying it down flat, he leaves it open so he can still add the shirt and tie. He admires the color of the fabric, a soft but bright green that compliments his honey skin well, the satin pinched between his fingers.

“Let me.”

Jungkook turns back to face you at the sound of your voice, freezing when he sees you’re only in your strapless bra and thong. Not that he’s in any better of a situation; he’s in boxer briefs and a white button-down shirt.

You tug at the tie, gently pulling the longer piece to allow it to slip off from around his neck, Jungkook ducking his head to help you guide it free. Dropping the tie on top of the suit jacket, he feels the way your fingers, warm and light, touch his stomach as you undo each button, starting from the bottom of the shirt. Your eyes never leave his, and he swears he barely blinks—you’re like a siren calling to him, keeping him in place.

“You bought all of these ties, Ggukkie. And only that one will be used.” You nod towards the garment bag, hands finally reaching the collar of his shirt. “What will you do with the rest?”

“I-uh, I think I’ll save them. Can use them for other formal things. You know?” Jungkook can’t think of any other occasion that he would wear a tie, other than another wedding (his to you, perhaps?) or possibly his funeral—the look in your eyes is like you want to eat him alive, and he’s more than willing to go out that way.

“Hmm, I can think of a few uses for them.” Your hands slip under the shirt where it sits on his shoulders, gliding the sleeves down his arms. His tattooed arm slowly reveals itself, a sight he knows you enjoy seeing.

“Oh yeah, like what?” Jungkook knows he’s going to like your idea. You work in a school, and teachers are always pretty creative; this isn’t his first time letting that beautiful brain of yours run wild with him. He can feel his boxer briefs tightening in a specific area as his excitement grows.

“Let me show you.” Jungkook follows your lead, allowing himself to be placed in the center of your bed. You climb off briefly to pull two ties from the bag and pop off their tags. You make sure to choose two of a softer satin fabric, since he can’t return them now. You climb back on and return to straddling him. Your core is warm through the thin cotton of your thong, and Jungkook can’t control the slight jump of his dick when you settle on top and lean forward.

“Hand.” You kiss each of his fingers delicately before pressing a kiss to his palm. Placing his hand against the headboard, you thread the tie through the cutouts and secure his wrist in place with a bow. “Other hand.” Jungkook’s doe eyes are wide as he watches you follow the same routine on this hand, hitching him so he sits like a scarecrow against the frame.

“Let me know if at any time it hurts and you want to stop, okay?” Your hand rests on his cheek, cupping it gently as your eyes search for any signs of fear or wanting to back out.

“I know, babe. Safeword is Velveeta.”

You giggle, climbing off of him so you can move his garment bag a safe distance away. “I can’t believe you chose that as the safeword.”

“Have you heard the way you sound when you get super wet? It’s like Velveeta mac and cheese, you know?”

“And why is that what you equate to a safeword?”

“Because, when I want to feel safe or need comfort, I need to be inside you.”

Jungkook watches your reaction, the way your footsteps falter momentarily as you return back to the bed where he’s sitting patiently, waiting for you. You don’t say anything more, you just pause at the edge of the bed, your hooded eyes only on him.

Your hands reach behind you, undoing the clasps of your bra so that it falls to the carpeted floor. Your thong drops next to join it in a scant pile that you leave behind to climb back on the bed. Returning to straddling him, you press your chest against his as your hands frame his face. You run your nose along his slowly, bringing your lips to his forehead in an act of closeness so much deeper than sexual—at least to Jungkook it is.

He strains his hands against the ties, already seeking to touch you, hold you, secure you to him. He tilts his head up, seeking your lips instead and you kiss him fully, several pecks before it deepens into a wet, tangle of tongues. Both of you moan; you rock your hips over his clothed cock and he wants to cry because he can’t feel you the way he wants to. Not yet, at least.

“I’m gonna taste you, yeah?” you breathe out into his mouth, and he nods, eyes blown as he watches you lower your body until your head hovers over his lap. He can see the sheen you left behind on the black fabric, a thin oval shape that glistens from your fresh arousal. You pull at the waistband, hands cheekily grazing his cheeks as you reveal him.

He’s somewhat hard, naturally, and pants in anticipation as you make yourself comfortable between his thighs. He’ll never get over the feeling you give him when you admire his length. He’s sure he’s told you before, but no one cherishes his cock the way you do. He feels all but one muscle relax as your mouth envelops his tip, all soft and wet, warm and comforting like your pussy—a great alternative, he thinks.

If the first moment you taste him relaxes him, the moments ensuing are the opposite, causing his muscles to expand and contract as your sinful mouth glides up and down along his shaft. It’s low-key infuriating for Jungkook that you make him feel this good and he can’t even touch you.

The headboard creaks slightly and you narrow your gaze in warning, mouth stuffed full of his length and unable to reprimand him. Jungkook lets out a series of chuffs at the scene spread before him: you, naked and drooling into his lap with eyes cutting into his soul for the simple fact that he wants to reward you with touches for the way your throat, mouth, and tongue treat his prized possession.

“Please, babe, wanna touch you too,” he whines out, hoping to appeal to your nurturing side. And it does work. Kind of. He watches (he can’t do much else) as you pop off his cock with that lewd sound he so enjoys hearing your lips make against the tip, and crawl back up his body. Your chest is heaving slightly as you fill your lungs, but you ignore all attempts by Jungkook to nip at you with his own lips.

“Scooch down,” you demand, and he listens well like a pupil as you guide his wrists and ties down to the bottom edge in turn. You have to get off the bed to go to the end, wrapping your soft hands around his ankles and pulling him so he slides across your sheets, arms mostly extended. “Only because you’ve been good, and I don’t want to risk you breaking my headboard.”

Jungkook is a little confused at how laying flat is a reward, as it makes it harder for him to watch you, until you climb back onto the bed facing the opposite direction. “Fuck, yes,” he practically sings, but you just shake your head with a smile as you grip his hard-on in your fist.

“Let’s see how well you keep your focus, baby.” It’s a taunt that you pair with a shake of your hips before lowering your glistening pussy lips to his waiting mouth. Jungkook loves how turned on you get just by sucking his cock, wants to taste the arousal created just for him, by him, and loves a good challenge.

His mouth is open when you nestle yourself against him, tongue out and lips ready to make out with you. You squeeze him in your palm, a whimper as your back arches from the heat of his mouth and Jungkook has to lift his head a bit to chase your movements. “Don’t run, wanna make you feel good, too.”

He hears you take a deep breath, breasts rubbing against his lower abdomen as you lick at him before dropping your hips once more. Jungkook resumes his feasting, spurred on by the little sounds you make as you rock back and forth on his face. He loves that you’ve split your knees on either side of his shoulders; he can’t use his hands to hold you wide, but you do a great job keeping your pussy open for him to tease with his tongue.

The switch between who is dominating who is fast—he knows that you must’ve been aching and throbbing between your thighs before letting him touch you, and now you’re closer to climax than he is. It’s also Jungkook’s specialty; what can he say? He likes to eat.

When you catch your rhythm on his face, you lose your rhythm with your mouth, instead using your hands to stroke him as you sit up higher and higher. Your left hand grips his thigh, right hand stroking him in time as Jungkook groans from below you. He loves when you do this: give in to the pleasure and suffocate him, and almost whines in despair when you lift up to check-in.

“Can you breathe? Am I killing you?”

“If you don’t sit back down on my face and let me eat this pussy—mmphh.”

Jungkook doubles down his efforts, dropping and raising his chin in order to lick you from top to bottom and when you adjust slightly so he can access your clit, he gently suckles it as your thighs shake and you cry out his name.

“Fuck, Jungkook—holy fuck!”

You collapse onto him, laying your head on his pelvis as your body shivers from the aftershocks.

“And you thought I would lose focus,” he jokes, but you seem to take it seriously.

“Ah, you’re right. You didn’t get to finish. I got you.”

“Hey, you know I never have to cum, just making sure you get off makes me feel good.” Jungkook hates that you might think this is just a sex exchange, needs you to know it’s more than that. You sit up and shift around, body moving to align with his.

“And I like knowing I made you feel good.” You kiss him deeply with tongue. “We’re perfect that way, huh?”

Jungkook wishes more than once that he could say what he wants to say. That you’re perfect for each other—probably soulmates—bets he’s met you in another life. Instead, no words come out of his mouth as you face away from him. You throw a mischievous smile over your shoulder before you spit in your hand and grasp him, moving to hover over his pelvis.

“You’re actually mean for this,” he says, watching as you sink onto him, and he’s able to watch your lips part around his cock, stretching to fit his girth until you bottom out. Your cute ass hides the view until you lift up again, revealing the glistening trails of cum that decorate his veins and he can’t stop himself from pulling at the ties. Jungkook just wants to help guide you, wants to put his hands on your cheeks and spread them apart so he can see the stretch of your pussy as you ride him, maybe even press his thumb to your puckered hole, watch as that shiver runs down your spine in ecstasy.

“Safeword?” Your concern shows in your tone and the way you slow your movements.

“Don’t need it, just wanna fucking touch you.” He would hate how whiney he sounds if he didn’t know you thrived off it—can feel it in the way you clench for him.

“If you use it, I’ll release you from your shackles…” you counter, and how dare you giggle at Jungkook, knowing using the safe word gives him what he wants, but he’ll never use it with you. How can he when he feels his safest right now, balls deep.?

“It’s fine,” he grits out, bucking his hips to get you to move again, ride him again, but you don’t. Instead, you rise up, keeping just the tip in until you are able to rotate around and face him. You look torn, teeth worrying your bottom lip about whether to untie him or not, safe word be damned. “Don’t do it unless you want to.”

Jungkook watches the debate swirl in your eyes, before you reach up and tug at the bow ends, letting him free from his confines. Instantly, his hands move to your body, fingers wrapping around your ribs as his thumbs settle under your breasts before moving down to trace the outline to your hips. With a firm tug, he seats you once more, a groan of curse words slipping out. You’re still so wet from the mixture of his spit and your own orgasm spread along his shaft that he slides into you like a glove, nestled tight between your walls.

Small hands press to his chest, and your thumbs rub circles around his nipples as you begin to ride him, pussy walls quenching the thirst for you as he fights to keep his eyes open so he can watch your tits bounce in his face.

“That’s it, baby, ride my cock,” he encourages, “only you ride me this good, fuck—so good for me.”

You smile at his praise, moving to lay chest to chest so you can really roll your hips, sheathing and unsheathing him in rapid succession. The clapping of your skin against his fills the room, creating a harmonious sound paired with the heavy breathing and sweet murmurs and whines. Jungkook feels his control slipping as his hands grasp your cheeks and spread them, allowing him to reach deeper inside of you. He feels the flutters that let him know you’re so close to a second orgasm, so he plants his feet into your mattress and begins to jackhammer up into your aching cunt.

Your teeth press into his shoulder, cries muffled, but he keeps going, even after he feels you contract and release, wetness pooling below his belly button as he gets closer and closer to joining you.

“Jungk—shit, shit, I’m—”

He’s not expecting you to cum for a third time, didn’t realize his repetitive stroke to keep him in your pleasure longer would catapult you, so when you do—and hard at that—it takes him as well. His cock throbbing from how hard he fills you up, cum milking in spurts that leak out around his cock as he fucks you through the best of it until neither of you can take anymore.

—————

Jungkook’s left hand plays with the strands of your hair as you sleep on his chest. His cellphone’s brightness is turned all the way down so as not to disturb your beauty rest. Not that Jungkook thinks you need it. His smile from the thought of your beauty fades as he focuses back on his phone. There’s a tightness in his chest under your head that isn’t stemming from the pressure of your body.

He knows he hasn’t done anything wrong, in fact—he’s very much within his rights to do whatever he wants, with whoever he wants, but the only person he wants to do things with is you. It actually makes him a little irritated that he shouldn’t feel guilty. He wants a good reason to turn away any and all advances women (and even some men) make on him.

When everyone knows you’re single, it’s a bit harder to say no to dates with people. Especially if it’s someone Jungkook might’ve been interested in at one point in time. How does he explain that he can’t give someone else a chance because he’s holding out for you? That he’s too busy building his own courage to tell you that he wants you, to let another person (like the girl texting him) into your spot?

He scrolls through the messages SoHee left him while he was busy fucking you into the mattress during round two after a break to rest and refuel with Korean BBQ takeout and a Netflix movie.

stay tuned for “so break me off another night” coming 8-10-2023!

#bangtansorciere #bangtanbathhouse #clubzerooclock #bangtanwhq #btscreaturescoven #btsafterdarknet #bangtantheatrenet #thebtswritersclub #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook au #jungkook writings #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #seven days series

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biisexualemma · 7 months

Text

happier (pt.6). rafe cameron

word count: 3.8k

warnings: unwanted passes, bit of angst, mostly fluff

requested: i guess soo

plot: you and rafe are figuring out this dating thing

a/n: it has literally been 6 months since i last updated series… whoops… i have some much written for this series but it’s all in bits and pieces and i’m trying to rewrite bits / put stuff together and it’s taking a minute lol but anyway enjoy the 2 people who will read this lol

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / masterlist

texting

bold = rafe

italics = y/n

hey

very ominous first text rafe

all i said was hey

exactly

and it's you so

what else am i supposed to say?

idk

'hey y/n'

'hi how are you?'

''sup what you up to?'

you'd rather me start the conversation with 'sup'

it's less serial killer-y so maybe

alright next topic please

YOU texted me rafe

yeah and you said i sounded like a serial killer so excuse me if i'm a little wounded

didn't think that was even possible mr big-shot kook prince

please never call me that again

because it's too on the nose?

you always this annoying?

nah i just like making things difficult for you

cuz your life is too easy as it is

you think you're so funny

i know you do too :)

you're still hanging around sooo

your eyes dragged away from your phone screen, and away from where rafe was currently typing out his response, when you heard a honk from outside your house. you peeped out the window and saw the twinkie pulled up outside, lights still on and engine running as they waited for you.

you grabbed your shoes and jacket, still holding onto your phone when another message popped up as you were making your way out of your house to meet your friends.

yeah yeah

just tell me what you're not doing tonight so i can come pick you up

you rolled your eyes at his presumptuousness, a small smile on your lips as you grabbed your keys and closed the door behind you. you texted back as you walked to the twinkie, hardly looking where you were going.

believe it or not i have plans

i don't sit around waiting for you to text me you know

> why not? >:(

you let out a snort, shaking your head as you typed out a response just as you approached the beat up van where sarah and john b were waiting for you. you clumsily climbed into the back, sarah watching you fumble as your fingers and eyes remained glued to your phone screen.

my life does not revolve around you rafe cameron

as much as i'm sure you want it to

yeah i do actually

guess we don't always get what we want

this is a valuable lesson that you're long overdue to learn little trust fund baby

wow

you're actually so mean and for what

yeah i'm not very good at this flirting thing tbh

yeah i got that

yeah? did the serial killer comment tip you off?

amongst other things

ok well maybe i'll just remind you that i think about you more than i care to elaborate on right now

that was better...

you're learning

thank you

i'm trying my best

we'll circle back to that comment at some point though

don't think i'll forget that one

yeah you think about that while you're home alone tonight

wow

wait not like that

don't take it back now that was good

it's not what i meant!!

"what is she grinning about?" sarah quirked an eyebrow, muttering to john b as she watched you trying to buckle up with one hand while you texted with the other.

john b watched you in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows furrowed together slightly. neither of them could recall a time they'd seen you look so giddy, you were always misplacing your phone and now you couldn't tear your eyes away.

sarah gasped softly and john b's eyes quickly darted over to his girlfriend, wide and wondering what she suddenly knew that he didn't.

sarah grabbed john b's arm and shook it a little, all giddy herself now but john b still looked just as confused. "what? what? tell me!" he whined.

"she asked me and kie for advice the other night," she clarified, lowering her voice a little, though you were entirely consumed in your own conversation. john b's eyes were still full of confusion. he didn't understand girls at the best of times but this was beyond his comprehension all together. sarah rolled her eyes playfully. "about a boy."

john b glanced at you for a second before moving back to his girlfriend, shaking his head. "i didn't think y/n was even interested in guys."

"oh just because she didn't fall at your feet john b doesn't mean she doesn't like guys," sarah scoffed, hitting his chest lightly. john b went to defend himself but quickly stopped because he thought she might be onto something.

you suddenly grew aware of your surroundings, realising the twinkie was still stationary. your eyes lifted up from your phone for a second to see sarah biting back a grin and john b staring you out in the rearview mirror.

"uh," you looked around like something was wrong. "are we waiting for something or what? why are we still sitting here?"

"nope," sarah narrowed her eyes at you and you frowned at her, mouth opening slightly in confusion. she looked like she knew things. "c'mon get going, john b."

weird you thought, shaking your head when another message appeared on your phone.

i know what you meant don't worry ;)

no you don't

you'll know what i mean when i actually mean it

tease

shut up

i gotta go rick

who tf is rick

you

i'm rick?

yeah you're rick

i don’t understand

that's your name from now on

at least via text

so if anyone sees these messages they don't get suspicious

that's crazy

i lose my phone a lot it's not that crazy

that's not the crazy part

just play along please?

i'm not ready for people to find out about this yet

whatever this is

what is this again?

that's a question for another time

see you around

- rick

you fell back against the blanket you'd laid out on the grass, eyes immediately falling upon the stars above you. you sighed contentedly, oblivious to the curious eyes that were watching you from beside you.

"you seem happy," jj spoke up from where he was sitting next to you. "what's that about?"

you snorted, your head rolling to the side so you could glance up at him. "what? i can't just be happy?"

he made a face at you, his hand nudging your arm. "you know what i mean," he shook his head. "you've been so tired and grumpy lately, no offence," he said the last part quickly when he saw your face contort into one that looked offended. "you just seemed like normal today. it was nice."

you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching the rest of the gang who'd gone for a quick swim. kie had launched herself onto pope, dunking him under the water and laughing hysterically when he came back up for air looking bewildered. sarah was floating on her back, eyes up at the stars while john b held his hands underneath her so she wouldn't sink down. you didn't feel like swimming after the amount of food you'd eaten so jj decided to sit with you and keep you company.

you shrugged. "i don't know," you could feel jj's eyes watching you. "i just feel more like myself i guess. i don't know why."

it was a bit of a lie. with everything out of the open between you and rafe, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. you thought it'd be hard to lie to your friends about it, but none of them really asked you outright so you didn't find yourself having to lie at all. everything just seemed to be going better for now.

"well i'm glad anyway," he gave you a soft smile. jj was a good friend, and most of the time he played into the reputation he had, but every now and again he would show the other side of him. he was loyal to his core and just wanted to see his friends happy. "you feel like swimming yet?" his lips stretched into a wide grin, nudging your shoulder as he tried to encourage you.

you couldn't help but smile back, he was infectious. you let your head roll back before sitting yourself upright. "fine, c'mon," you lifted your shirt over your head, throwing it at his face. "race you," you quickly jumped up, undoing your shorts as you ran towards the water, only stopping when you got to the edge to pull your shorts off the rest of the way.

jj was racing behind you, not bothering to remove anything other than his shirt as he whizzed past you and threw himself into the water, shoes and all. "cannon ball!" he screamed and pope, kie, john b and sarah all tried to clear out as quickly as they could but he didn't give them much notice before a crashing wave of water soaked them all even more. a chorus of angry jj's followed but you couldn't help but laugh before throwing yourself in after him.

—

texting

you awake pretty girl?

hey

y/n

rafe it's late

you asleep?

fast asleep yeah

that's why i'm txting you right now

come to the party

rafe it's 1 am i'm with my friends

still?

haven't they had enough of you

rude

i mean they're hogging you

how old are you?

ditch em c'mon

i'm more fun anyway

i'm gonna bet you're drunk

or high

and?

doesn't change anything

still wanna see you

you always this clingy with girls?

mmm funny

you know it's just you

you think i'd be texting you at this party if it wasn't just you

maybe no ones caught your eye yet

yeah you have

so get your ass over here or i'm coming to get you

relentless

you love it

hmmm

just come and get me

everyone will be asleep by the time you get here

on my way

can you drive?

'course i can

ok but are you sober enough?

don't worry about it

rafe

i'm good i promise

swear?

swear

half an hour later and you'd sneaked out of john b's house unnoticed and were sitting in the passenger seat of rafe's car. last time you were in this seat he was driving you home from a party, and now you were going to a party... with him.

"hey," he mumbled as you secured your seatbelt, his eyes raking over you, smile on his lips.

"hey yourself," you chirped, still pretty awake considering the late hour, you were used to running off no sleep most of the time. you noticed him staring at you instead of starting the car and driving. "what?"

"you look really pretty right now."

you glanced away from him, feeling your cheeks grow warm from the compliment. "shut up and drive, rafe," you mumbled, meeting his eyes quickly as he shook his head and breathed out a laugh.

"yes ma'am," he did as you said, driving you to the other side of town, to a house you didn't recognise but was probably four times bigger than your own. you felt a wave of anxiety all of a sudden when rafe parked the car and got out. he appeared again on the passengers side where you still sat, seatbelt on.

he opened the door, leaning on the frame of the car and ducking down to see you sat still. "c'mon," he urged but you quickly shook your head.

"this is a bad idea," you blurted out, eyes shifting to meet rafes. "i don't think i should go in there— definitely not with you."

rafe, for a split second, looked wounded but he quickly played it off. "you're overthinking it."

"rafe, your friends hate me," your lip involuntarily slipped into a small pout, your eyes not moving from his. "i can't just go to a kook party, when i hate kooks and they hate me."

your eyes moved down to your thigh where rafe had moved his hand to sit against your skin. you gulped. "i'm a kook and i don't hate you," he reassured, giving your thigh a squeeze before shifting his hand. "if anyone has a problem with you being here they can take it up with me."

"rafe," your voice came out smaller than you had intended. your mind was pretty focused on his hand and where it was moving, until you heard a click and your seatbelt was retracting. "i don't want you messing things up with your friends over me."

he shook his head, his hand latching onto yours and tugging you out of the passenger seat. he closed the car door and guided you towards the house. "'told you they're not my friends."

"still— won't it make things awkward—"

"oh my god," he turned around, smile on his lips when he came to halt, you nearly bumping into his chest. "i told you i don't care what people think, and i really don't care what my friends think."

he let go of your hand, moving his hands to either side of your face. your breath caught in your throat when he moved his face directly in front of yours. he squished your cheeks together, his stomach churning when you looked up at him with your big, nervous eyes.

"c'mon," he urged again. "you'll be fine s'long as you're with me," he offered you a reassuring smile, hands slipping from your face, his arm moving to sit on your shoulders, pulling you close into him. "you're good, ok?"

you took his word for it, trusting him in that moment that everything would be fine as long as you stayed with rafe.

—

"do you want another drink?" rafe hummed the question to you, his fingertips grazing the skin of your arm, before moving back down to sit snug on your waist. his eyes were looking up at you from where you sat on his lap.

you had relaxed somewhat since you got here, making yourself comfortable on rafes lap after he insisted that no one was watching, nor cared. you took his word for it and he wasn't wrong, the people at this party were too high or drunk to care who's lap you were sitting on.

you shrugged, glancing at your empty cup. you hadn't drank much, it was already late and you didn't feel like having a hangover tomorrow so you didn't push it. "i could do a water."

"water? sure, i got you," he nodded, repositioning you so you sat back on the sofa while he went on the hunt for water.

you propped your head up with your hand, resting your elbow on the arm of the sofa. you peered out the corner of your eye when you felt someone sit next to you.

"hey you're y/n, right?" you turned to face the guy that had sat himself beside you, he wore a small smile on his face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. you recognised him from around town but not enough to know his name.

"uh, yeah," you gave him a polite, albeit uncomfortable smile before turning away from him, hoping to discourage him continuing to talk to you.

"i think i've seen you around the club," he carried on, not picking up on anything. you nodded, pursing your lips. "i'm alex."

he held out his hand for you to shake, you looked down at it in almost disbelief but shook it still to be polite. "cool," you said with a twinge of sarcasm.

"sorry if this is forward— i just think you're really pretty— i've been watching you for a while—"

"you've been watching me?" you repeated his words, your brows furrowing slightly.

he let out an awkward laugh. "not in a stalker-y way— i just noticed you is what i meant."

"sure," you nodded. "i'm kinda here with someone else though. sorry," you tried to let him down easy, with another small smile despite your discomfort.

"ok well you're sitting here alone," he breathed out a laugh, as if he'd caught you in a lie.

your smile drooped a little. "he's getting me a drink. not that i need to explain myself."

he huffed, seeming to grow agitated with you. "you could just say you're not interested instead of coming up with a lame excuse."

your mouth hung open slightly. "the truth actually— not that i even owe you that but sure whatever."

"last time i try talking to a fucking pogue," he muttered under his breath before picking himself up and walking away. "not even that pretty," he muttered under his breath.

you sat for a couple minutes in silent disbelief, blinking a few times before pushing yourself up off the sofa and beginning your search for rafe. you'd had enough of this party and he was your ride home.

you finally found him in the kitchen on the other side of this humongous house, filling up a cup with some water. you approached from behind him, feeling his body stiffen when he felt your hands snake around his torso.

"hey," you felt him relax slightly when you spoke, realising it was you holding onto him. he turned to face you, your hands gripping the shirt he was wearing as he looked down at you.

"oh hey," he mumbled, you were standing pretty close but your eyes shifted about the room. "what's up? i was just coming to bring you—"

"can we go now, please?" you cut him off quickly, eyes moving back to his pleadingly. his brows furrowed a little when he saw your anxiety-ridden expression again.

"you're good here," he spoke in a hushed voice, setting aside the cup in his hand so he could move his hands to your waist. "we're good."

he tried to reassure you but it wasn't enough, you wanted to go home, you didn't want to see another self-entitled kook tonight (excluding the one in front of you).

you shook your head, adamant, "no— rafe— i want to leave."

his grip on you tightened a little. "did something happen?" his brows knitted together slightly, standing up a little straighter.

"no," you shook your head quickly. "i just want to go— rafe— please—"

"ok, ok," he rooted for his car keys in his pocket, his free hand grabbing yours and pulling you out of the kitchen. "we'll go, c'mon."

you followed him out of the party, trailing behind him, he helped you into the passenger seat, even trying to buckle you in until you insisted that you got it and that you were fine.

"i'm sorry," you mumbled after a while of sitting in silence, reflecting on your actions. rafe driving on the quiet roads, not saying a word or looking in your direction. "i didn't mean to ruin your night."

"you didn't," he spoke quietly.

you eyed him up, his hands tight on the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road, lips pulled into a tight line. "i feel like you're mad at me."

"now you wanna talk?"

"you're mad at me."

"i'm not mad at you."

"rafe—"

"i'm not mad at you," he repeated, a little shorter than before. "i just want you to talk to me."

"i am talking to you—"

"you know what i mean," he cut you off again. "i can't help if you don't talk to me."

you were quiet for a second before speaking again. "this guy was rude to me at the party, that's all," you felt his eyes move over to you for a split second. "i felt out of place and wanted to leave."

he thought on it for a minute. "rude to you how?"

you chewed on your bottom lip, not wanting to answer him, partly because you were still mad but mainly because you were kind of embarrassed.

you huffed. "he was trying to hit on me and when i told him no he got all hurt and mean."

rafe was quiet for a minute, he was picking his words and his tone carefully, trying not to let his imagination run wild. "he was mean to you?"

"it's just guys, they get like that— bruised egos you know, kooks are the worst for it," you shrugged. "i didn't want to tell you back then because i didn't want to make it into a big thing or cause a scene. i just wanted to leave, with you."

"ok, but you're fine? did he try anything?" his knuckles were turning white at this point, you found it hard to look away.

you shook your head, but when he looked over at you for a second for confirmation you spoke, "i'm fine. it was just weird and awkward."

he nodded and you were both quiet for a while after that.

you knew rafe was a hot head, you knew he didn't always think before he acted, and maybe you should've just told him what happened straight away but part of you was glad you didn't.

"where am i dropping you off?"

"john b's is fine."

"won't your dad wonder where you are?"

your eyes focused on the road ahead still but you could feel him stealing glances at you. "i already told him i'd be at john b's tonight."

"you sure?" you nodded and so he dropped you back off at the house he'd picked you up from a few hours ago. the sun was just starting to rise, creating just enough light so that you could see his face. he still looked pissed.

you were looking at him with big, tired, bloodshot eyes when he turned his head towards you. your eyelids drooping slightly the longer you focused on him.

"y'promise you're good?" he mumbled.

you nodded. "do you promise you're not angry at me?"

he rolled his eyes, glancing away for a second, the corner of his lip curling upwards softly. "could never be angry at you when you look like that."

"like what? exhausted?"

he hissed softly, shaking his head. he reached his hand out, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding you closer to him. "you're always so fucking pretty," his eyes raked over your face one last time, kissing your forehead before immediately shoving your face away with the palm of his hand. "now get outta' my sight, you're turning me on looking like that."

you snorted, ignoring the way your stomach fluttered at his actions. "you're such a boy," you joked before saying goodnight and hopping out of his car.

you walked up to the house with a small smile on your face, despite the bump in the night, you felt good about where this was going with rafe. you felt positive, giddy and your head was kinda foggy thinking about him.

"y/n?" you stopped in your tracks when you heard your name from his mouth. "was that rafe's car?"

shit.

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 1 year

Text

Adoration — kinkvember 2022

✦ pairing — roommate!Lip Gallagher x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 1.5k

✦ prompt — cheating.

✦ additional warnings — nsfw, slight angst, mentions of beverages, mentions of holidays, making out, dry humping.

✦ MINORS DNI

════════════════════════

You could see his lips moving and he could only possibly be talking to you. Lip often cursed at the TV for various reasons, but you could see on his face he was relaxed. Besides, the TV was off.

Tilting your head, you dropped the towel you were using to dry your hands onto the counter. “Sorry, didn’t catch the last part.”

He gave you a funny look as though he could see through you. Nodding upward, he asked, “What’s up with you today?”

You almost smiled at the question. Almost. “Nothing.”

“Was it Patrick?”

Lip always thought your boyfriend did something wrong. They barely interacted so you always assumed they just needed to get to know each other to get over their ridiculous suspicions. You had heard so many insane things from both, accusations so unfounded you worried you were going crazy and hearing them wrong, that you stopped counting.

“It was my sister,” you confided to him, hoping the explanation would ease his worries. Lip was convinced Patrick wasn’t good enough for you, whatever that meant. He furrowed his brow, staring at you and expecting you to elaborate. “I had lunch with mom today and the topic of the upcoming holidays came up… she said we wouldn’t do anything this year because I’m on bad terms with my sister.”

Amused, he motioned for you to go on with his hand. “And what did you do?”

“I called her, asked her to meet up and we kind of talked. Everything is supposedly fine for the family's sake, but I can tell she wanted to get something out of her chest.”

He pushed his tongue against his cheek, nodding as he walked behind you to reach a mug. “Maybe you should hear her out.”

Turning around so you could face him, you squinted. “You don’t mean that.”

He placed the empty mug on the counter and gazed into your eyes. “I hate when you fight with her, you get mopey.”

You twisted your mouth. “Mom’s ecstatic we’re cool now. I’m guessing you’re too? Oh, she said you’re invited, by the way.”

His semblance shifted, mood souring. “I hate third-wheeling.”

“Pat’s not invited,” you assured him. “You gotta find another excuse.”

Patrick could be invited, you were sure, but he would never attend. You were only dating and there was no reason for you to spend any holiday with his family or vice versa. It would have been sweet, but you had never talked about it even though you openly discussed your individual plans all the time. It didn’t help that your dad didn’t like him that much.

“It’s not an excuse,” Lip quickly defended himself. “ I like your family.”

“They like you too.”

“Too bad you hate me,” he teasingly said, taking the mug and moving it near the drip coffee maker.

You stuck your tongue out at him, making him playfully roll his eyes.

“You know I adore you, right?”

Lip was one of your favorite people in the entire world, you wished you had met him earlier in your life even though he insisted you would have disliked him back then.

“Yeah, yeah,” he jokingly dismissed your reminder. His hands rested on your shoulders as he added, “You know it’s mutual.”

This time you did smile. He gave you a short smile of his own and his eyes didn’t leave your face for a while. Eventually, you started to suspect he wasn’t really looking at you or at anything in particular.

Waving your hand in front of him to get his attention, you couldn't help but laugh. “What are you thinking about?”

“About fucking you into the couch,” he said, as though it was a normal occurrence.

As though he knew there were times you had found yourself wishing Patrick's hands were his. You loved your boyfriend, but you weren't blind, Lip was attractive, 'just your type' according to your sister, whatever that meant.

His voice made your skin warm in the mornings and at first, you blamed it on being used to his presence after almost a year and a half of living together. But as he said that, as he admitted he thought about fucking you —for whatever reason, a reason you didn't want to know, and perhaps not even entertain— his voice did more than warm your skin.

Your hands burned at the desire to touch him, to trace his shoulders and bury your fingertips in the dips of his body. More than that, your skin tingled, yearning to be touched by him.

You hated that you could see it clear as day, Lip pinning you to the couch, holding your arms to your head as he plunged in and out of you.

“What are you thinking about, huh?” he teased you.

“About you fucking me into the couch.”

Saying it loud didn’t make it less real, or shameful, and his lack of answer told you he wasn’t expecting that. He always had something to say, except when you needed him to talk, of course, except when you needed him to be reasonable and leveled about something both of you were old and mature enough to control.

You rushed to say, “We wouldn’t go through with it—”

He interrupted you with a smothering kiss, hands grasping your face. The shock wore off, perhaps too quickly, as you brought a hand to lay on his shoulder while the other rested at the base of his neck. Trying to match his intensity, devouring his mouth for a moment before relinquishing power, you found that going through with it was pretty easy.

Kissing him was easy, so fucking easy in fact that you should have done it sooner if only to scratch the itch.

Heat radiated from his lower body and seeped into yours as he pressed himself to you as his hands lowered to grip your plump waist.

He guided you away from the kitchen, forgetting about the coffee maker he never got to even plug in. You both clumsily moved into the small living room, lips still attached and hands holding onto each other as though the body underneath your hold would disappear if you were to let go.

Slipping your fingers into his hair, you found that it was softer than it looked which prompted you to tug on it. He groaned against your mouth, pushing you onto the couch.

You broke the kiss, looking up at Lip in a trance as he hovered over you. He gazed into your eyes, expectant — you wished you knew what he wanted from you, that he would outright say it. Instead, Lip crashed his lips against yours again.

Leisurely, he dropped his weight onto you, making you feel every ripple of his muscles as he shifted to a comfortable position, overwhelming your senses in every single possible way.

Lip humped into you with soft rolling motions, rubbing you through your leggings and thin panties with his hard cock. You wished he wouldn't, you wished he would try to be rougher, to make it hard for you to think this meant something different.

You bucked your hips, desperate for more friction, grinding into your roommate at a frenzied pace. Lip's hands gripped at your hips, squeezing hard, meeting your movements by grinding against you almost in a rush.

Every shared kiss was sloppy, short and breathless, with teeth clashing in between in attempts to keep groans and moans in. You didn’t know whose hands wandered first, but your skin was set ablaze when his cold fingers slipped under your top.

Delighted with the feel of his bare back under your fingertips, you pulled Lip closer to you, pushing his cock to poke your thigh. You whined the exact moment he groaned, pulling away from your needy kiss with a thread of saliva still connecting your mouths.

His blown pupils as he slowly brought his eyes up to meet yours were more sobering than anything else he could have done. His lustful gaze, turning his sparkly eyes into a deep blue you couldn’t afford to get yourself lost in, made you shiver.

“We shouldn’t,” you panted.

He hummed and gave your body another squeeze for good measure.

You suppressed a moan, afraid you would cross yet another line if he did it again. “I have a boyfriend.” The reminder hung in the air and no matter how long you tried, you just couldn’t let it settle, not between you and Lip, and not within yourself.

“I don’t give a shit about your boyfriend,” he simply stated. You didn’t even pretend to be surprised. “‘m not forcing you, though. I’ll stop if that’s what you want.”

Squeezing the back of his head, you admitted, “I don’t know if I want you to stop.”

“I’ll stop, then.” He kissed your forehead. Your hands dragged down his body, almost in slow motion, as he pushed himself off you.

You stared up at the ceiling, chest heaving up and down as Lip walked away from the living room and into his bedroom. The door closed behind him.

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher smut

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commander-krios · 4 months

Text

A Divine Dream

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Rolan/Dammon Rating: Teen Summary: An invitation to a Grand Ball. A returning hero. And the man who'd gotten away. Words: 5798 Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Slow Dancing, Ballroom Dancing, Banter, Happy Ending, Love and Hope, Second Chances, Mild Language, Background Wyll/Karlach

Read on AO3

This fic was written for @Cozy_Bossi to go along with a piece of art they made a few months ago of Dammon and Rolan. I've attached the picture and their twitter on AO3 so that you can follow them for more wonderful art!

Also, I hit 200k words posted for 2023!

Your presence is requested at a Grand Ball in honour of the rebuilding of Baldur’s Gate by his eminence, Duke Ulder Ravengard.

The invitation was written in elegant script, looped letters in golden ink that glittered in the light. He knew he should attend. Most likely, his absence would be noticed and considered rude among the upper circles of the city. He was the master of Ramazith’s Tower and Baldur’s Gate’s newest archmage, yet he had much to still do, even a year after the destruction of the Absolute. With a sigh, Rolan tossed the parchment on his desk amidst mountains of scrolls and books.

The movement caught Cal’s eye. His brother glanced up from his book, scrunching his face in concern. “Another solicitor?”

“If only.” Untying his hair from the elaborate braid he’d started to wear recently, he brushed his fingers through the strands, combing the knots out. “There is a party for the Duke in a tenday. I’m expected to attend.”

“A party sounds fun.” Cal reached for the paper, glancing it over quickly before a grin appeared on his face. A grin that Rolan didn’t like the look of. “And Ravengard is fair and honorable. You might actually enjoy yourself.”

“The horror.” Rolan muttered, the sarcasm not lost on his younger brother. “I can think of a hundred other things I’d rather be doing than getting dressed up like a prized peacock and prancing around a dance floor.”

“Is it because you don’t have a date?” Cal teased, setting the invitation face up in front of Rolan again, the golden script mocking him.

“A date? Have you seen the type of person that tries to woo me? Hardly any of them are worth the time or effort.”

“So you’re saying that some of them are worth it?”

“Please spare me.” The invitation sat open, a temptation despite his objections. How long had it been since he’d left the Tower to merely socialize? His work as archmage brought him to many drawing rooms in Baldur’s Gate, not to mention his travels across Faerun visiting with other archwizards. He wasn’t locked away in Ramazith’s Tower like his predecessor had been. No, he frequently took on apprentices, delved into research with other wizards in the Realms.

But his patience for frivolous things, for frivolous people, had waned in the last months. What use was making connections, social or otherwise, when the one person he wished to see had left for Avernus nearly a full year ago?

Cal shifted in his seat, bringing his book closer as if he planned to continue reading, but his eyes were fixed on a singular spot on the page. He knew what this was. Cal craved life outside of the tower walls. Lia was well established with the Flaming Fist. She had friends and dates and hobbies that kept her away for days at a time. Cal had put his life on hold to stay behind and help Rolan with the organization of the Tower, of everything Lorroakan had left behind. He worked in Sorcerous Sundries most days, only going out on the occasion when Lia insisted.

After everything they’d been through to get to this point, Rolan knew he owed his brother this.

With a sigh, Rolan rested his elbow on the desk, cupping his chin in his hands, his eyes fixed on his brother. “Cal.”

Cal glanced up curiously, the shadow of a grin twitching at his lips. “Yes, Rolan?”

“Did you want to go to the ball with me?”

In his excitement, Cal slammed the book shut hard enough that the entire table shook. Rolan cast a spell to stop the ink pot from tumbling to the floor. It floated, suspended in mid-air before he snatched it and returned it to the safety of the desk.

“I know you’re excited, but please be careful.”

“Sorry.” Cal said with a sheepish grin. “Should we invite Lia?”

“I suspect she’ll be there.” Rolan cleared away the texts, standing and replacing them to their spots on the bookshelf. He didn’t want to discuss the ball, or the Flaming Fist, or anything when he knew how easily it could lead to places and people he wasn’t ready to talk about yet. Friends that were long gone and most likely would never return.

“Right. Flaming Fist and all.” Cal stood as well, stretching to relieve his muscles from sitting in one place so long. “Should I check in on Tolna before bed?”

“No.” He said, realizing his voice was sharper than was necessary. Forcing himself to be gentler, he turned to his brother, putting on his best smile. The frown on Cal’s face only proved he was still terrible at it. “I’ll do it. I should secure the vault and check in on a few things anyway. Go. Get some rest.”

Cal hesitated, as if he wanted to say something, but decided better of it. “Alright. You’ll let me know if you need help, right?”

Rolan nodded, but he knew no matter how much help he needed, he wouldn’t bother his brother’s well deserved rest. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he gathered up his loose hair, tying it back like he used to do when they traveled the dangerous roads of the Storm Coast. If Cal noticed, he didn’t comment on it. “Of course. Now off with you. I have work to do.”

Cal knew better than to argue with him, it wasn’t worth the trouble. Even if Rolan was in the wrong, it took practically pulling teeth for him to admit it. When his brother finally exited through the portal, the wizard of Ramazith’s Tower was left in the echoey silence.

~~~~

Duke Ulder Ravengard’s estate was lavishly decorated with red and gold hangings, perfectly shined silverware, the glow of hundreds of candles creating the perfect romantic atmosphere for the couples that had already taken to the dancefloor. Gowns made of delicate fabrics in colors of indigo and crimson, lavender and silver, each one more beautiful than the last, billowed and swayed with each movement. Elaborate beading, expensive jewelry, fashionably coiffed hair…

Rolan still couldn’t believe he was here with the nobility as an equal. All of his ambition and dreaming never prepared him for this new life: the opulence, the respect, the wealth of knowledge at his hands. He knew how lucky he was for such a chance, he’ll always be grateful to Wyll and his friends for helping him acquire it.

With a wave of his hand and a quiet recitation of a well-known spell, stars sparkled across the ceiling, falling in wide arcs of light and color, and a smattering of applause went through the room at the sight.

Cal inhaled sharply beside him, eyes fixed on the magic until it disappeared, wonder and appreciation on his face. “Wow. That never gets old, does it?”

Rolan smiled softly, clapping a hand to his brother’s shoulder, enjoying the way his eyes lit up at the light show. Almost like old times. “I’m glad you convinced me to come. Now, go. Enjoy yourself. I am going to see if Lia is here yet.”

Cal met his eyes, hesitating. “Are you sure you want me to leave you?”

“I can handle some nobles, Cal.” Rolan held back a laugh at the incredulous look on his brother’s face. “I’m not that insufferable, am I?”

“Well…”

Pushing gently against Cal’s shoulder, he wasn’t surprised when he burst into laughter. “Get out of here, you menace.”

Cal was still chuckling as he melted into the crowd, in search of whoever he knew among the guests. The Flaming Fist was here in force, silent watchers in the corners of the room, although most threats to the Duke or the city had long disappeared with the destruction of the Elder Brain and the deaths of the Chosen Three. Baldur’s Gate, like much of the Storm Coast, hadn’t experienced peace such as this in years. He hoped it lasted.

Rolan had no difficulty finding Duke Ravengard in the crowd, he and Counsellor Florrick speaking to nobility and common folk alike, neither being barred from the Upper City as was once the norm. Now, everyone had a voice in the rebuilding, in the life that was going to bloom here, and Rolan was grateful to be part of it.

Perhaps there was hope, after all. Hope for a better future, for a happier one. A future where he didn’t have to regret or question the choices he’d made.

A future where he finally made a life for himself.

His sister was at her post near the back of the room, the refreshment table not far from where she stood. When Lia noticed his approach, a smile spread across her face, waving in the direction he’d come from.

“I knew you had to be here when the magic show lit up the room. Can’t stop showing off, can you?”

“I did it for Cal, if you must know.” He replied flippantly, reaching immediately for the Arabellan Dry and pouring a large glass full. “He is here, somewhere.”

“Probably searching for Lord Guthmere’s daughter.” She teased, pretending to be at attention when he glanced at her. “They’ve taken a liking to one another.”

“Please, Lia. Let’s not make enemies of the patriars of the city already. I don’t want to be chased out by a mob because you and Cal cannot be discrete.”

She was silent as he sipped the wine, watching the people of Baldur’s Gate flirt, dance, and stand a world apart from them. Even if he was considered among them, Rolan doubted he would ever feel as comfortable among the glitter and gold than he was in the Sundries library, discussing spells and history with other wizards, most notably Elminster and Gale, both of whom visited him frequently over the last year. It’d been quiet, informative, and immensely enjoyable.

“You look weird.” Lia said, barely concealed mischief flirting across her face. She wore her Flaming Fist uniform, the crimson fabric and silver iron looking right on her. He would never admit it aloud, but he was proud of the woman she’d become.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t still irritate him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He brushed a hand over the rich blue robes he wore, enjoying how the golden threads shone in the light. Rolan had spent days searching for the perfect set of robes for the Duke’s ball, only to end up in Facemaker’s at the last moment to find something worthy of an archmage. “This was an expensive purchase.”

“You might want to ask for your money back.” She teased him, motioning to the ensemble. His frown deepened. “Half of it is missing.”

Rolan sniffed in irritation, lifting the goblet to his mouth again.“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“Hells, you’re sensitive tonight.” Lia rolled her eyes so hard he was surprised they didn’t roll all the way into her skull. “I was joking, you idiot.”

“It’s difficult to tell when everything you say is a joke.”

She stared at him until his lips twitched, a smile curling his lips without his permission. Lia snorted a laugh, shaking her head but the expression on her face was approving. Figured.

“Why are you over here sulking, anyway? I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love to get to know the fabulous Master Rolan.”

He gazed into the wine glass, the dark burgundy liquid holding no answers to what plagued him. Only he knew and like hell would he explain any of it to his sister.

He diverted her attention instead.

“Shouldn’t you be worrying less about me and more about protecting the Duke instead?”

Lia rolled her eyes, nodding to the Duke in question. “As if anyone is going to get past his entourage. Most of the Fist are here for the appearance of protection. Absolutely no one is going to hurt the Duke with a wizard prodigy, a Harper, and a damned vampire spawn protecting him.”

There was no doubt about that. The Duke’s son had left Baldur’s Gate to his father’s benevolent rule, but hadn’t left him alone. Many of his companions had either stayed in the city or visited frequently, to the point that they were welcomed guests at Ravengard’s.

“I suppose you have a point.” Rolan conceded before taking another sip of wine, refusing to meet his sister’s gaze. The last thing he wanted was to see her smug grin. She may have won this argument, but there would be plenty of those tonight and he wasn’t going to concede victory so early. “But then again, I am also here to protect our beloved Duke. Lest you forgot.”

“Could never forget a head that big.”

Rolan held his tongue when there was movement ahead, a gathering of the patriars and their guests as the familiar visage of Duke Ravengard appeared, calling for their attention as if his very presence didn’t immediately call for it. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed even Lia had snapped to attention, her chin held high and her focus entirely on the man she worked for. He’d never seen her so disciplined before.

Perhaps he wasn’t the only one to truly benefit from the time they’d spent in Baldur’s Gate.

“Now that everyone has gathered, it’s time I explained why I asked you here.” Ulder Ravengard stood slightly raised above the crowd, a goblet of wine in his hand, Florrick and a few of his closest council standing a few feet off, watching with much less anxiety than the rest.

Whispers broke out, speculation running rampant. Ravengard raised his hands in supplication, a genuine happiness on his face that Rolan hadn’t seen much of since Wyll left for Avernus, and the guests fell silent, waiting with bated breath for his announcement. Rolan sighed quietly, trying to still the anxious flutter of his hands. He folded his arms over his chest, tucking his hands against his body, trying to ignore the foreboding that tickled at the back of his mind.

“It’s been nearly a year and yet, I never gave up hope that my son would return home to Baldur’s Gate. To us.” Rolan didn’t miss the whispered ‘to me’ that Ravengard spoke under his breath. “And for the first time since that day against the Netherbrain, he isn’t alone. Please aid me in welcoming back the Pride of the Gate, your hero, and my son. Wyll.”

Applause and cheers mixed among the patriars, all turning as one as the enormous ornate doors opened once more to admit their heroes. Wyll Ravengard stood at the front, looking as much the hero as the Blade of Frontiers ever had, dressed in an impeccable doublet of black and gold, a prince among patriars.

The tiefling barbarian, Karlach, stood beside him with their arms linked, a radiant force with her wide smile and affectionate laugh, eyes sparkling with a fire that always burned within her.

Rolan hadn’t heard a single scrap of news regarding the tiefling with the infernal engine until now. Her return to Avernus was kept quiet among the companions and the few people who knew of her affliction. Duke Ravengard’s mood had soured considerably after Wyll left with her, refusing to let the woman he loved suffer alone, but tonight, there was a new light within the Duke… within them all. A happiness that Rolan hadn’t seen in so long.

Wyll’s infectious laughter and wit immediately drew people to his side as it always did. He was surrounded by his usual friends, those that had helped him end the Absolute plot. The silver-haired cleric held a goblet of wine and a rather beautiful smile on her face. The wizard of Waterdeep with his jovial laughter and light hearted, yet silly jokes. The pale vampire who was the life of the party, taking in the attention with the air of a man who’d done this sort of thing his entire life. The High Harper and the former First Druid stood side by side farther back, discussing something at length with the Githyanki, supplied with all manner of drink and entertainment, preferring to shield themselves from the golden light that radiated from the savior of Baldur’s Gate instead of basking in it.

But none of them held the allure of the one who stood within the confines of their circle, out of place among heroes but never far from Rolan’s thoughts.

A tiefling blacksmith with a heart of gold and a smile to match it.

Dammon’s radiant smile was all the more blinding with the joy reflected in his dazzling blue eyes. He watched Karlach and Wyll with the pride of a friend, the affection of a brother. They had been his constant companions for nearly a year and yet, Rolan was jealous of the bond he’d so clearly built with them.

It was then that Rolan realized what their return meant. Karlach was no longer burning up, the fire of the infernal engine stifled in her chest.

They’d done it.

“It sounds like father has been telling tall tales about our exploits.”

“If anyone deserves to be a hero, it’s you, darling.” Astarion cooed at him, lifting a glass of wine to his lips. “Just take it before he decides to build a statue or something. The man is relentless.”

Karlach laughed, a harsh loud bark that was full of so much love and joy that it nearly broke Rolan’s heart. How he missed her vibrant personality, despite how loud and perhaps a tad bit boisterous she could be. Wyll took her hand in his, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles, a gesture that felt too intimate for the setting.

He ignored his friend’s teasing and instead, tugged Karlach closer, slipping his free arm around her waist, their combined hands coming up in the imitation of a dancer’s pose. “Let’s lead this dance, shall we, my love?”

Karlach responded, but Rolan didn’t care what it was she said, what any of them said, not when Dammon had noticed him staring. Realizing his mouth was hanging open, he snapped it shut, blush crawling up his neck and cheeks to the tips of his ears. Dammon smiled at him kindly and approached as the heroes of Baldur’s Gate continued to the dance floor, ignoring the two of them completely.

Rolan’s gaze swept Dammon’s body, taking in the new piercing hanging from his pointed ear, the dark blue doublet with fancy cloak, gold clasps glittering in the light of a thousand candles.

“I didn’t realize you’d returned. This is quite the surprise.” Rolan said, trying to keep his voice as casual as possible, but knowing he immediately failed when Dammon glanced at him, curiosity winning out over anything else. He swallowed with some difficulty, a lump sitting painfully in his throat. Might as well have been his foot.

“Yes. It was… recent. Very recent.” Dammon cleared his own throat, suddenly captivated by the sight of the dancers. Avoiding his gaze, most likely. “Karlach is doing much better than I expected. Better than I had hoped. I’m proud of how far she’s come. She deserves a happy ending.”

And what of us?

Rolan’s shoulders stiffened as his gaze sought out the subject of their conversation. She was laughing loudly, her voice carrying over the music and the chatter. Rolan could acknowledge that she deserved this, both she and Wyll did, but he was still angry that Dammon of all people took that responsibility on to himself. To leave for the Hells, the very place they’d escaped from such a short time ago, to put himself in danger for a woman he barely knew. Only because of the infernal engine she carried.

He took advantage of Dammon’s distraction to study him. The doublet he wore was a rich ocean blue, only highlighting the azure of his pretty eyes. His blond hair brushed his shoulders when he turned, watching a particularly handsome couple spin across the dance floor. The corners of his mouth tipped up, his expression gentle, softening his features. Longing thrummed beneath Rolan’s skin, the desire to reach out and comb some of that blond hair from his face, to tuck it behind an ear, if only to trail one of his claws across Dammon’s jaw.

“I suppose they all do. They did save us, after all.” Rolan forced the words out, trying to bridge the gap between them, the one that he had created when they’d last spoken. Because despite Dammon deciding to help Karlach’s mission in the Hells, Rolan was the one who’d taken a step back, reexamined things. He decided to leave the fleeting touches and longing looks behind him.

Rolan didn’t want to be left alone picking up the pieces of his heart when Dammon didn’t return. For a year, he’d been right. Dammon was gone, he wasn’t coming back, the Hells had torn him apart or had broken him. And if he did come back, what would be left? Would the man he cared for even still be in there, somewhere?

Rolan knew he wouldn’t survive that. Not after everything they’d fought against, fought for.

Dammon played with the edge of his cloak, the fine fabric shimmering with each movement. He was lost in his mind again, the revelry echoing in a sea of sound and color, a kaleidoscope of chaos. “Everyone here is a hero, in their own way. Even you, Rolan.”

He snorted, resisting an eye roll at the almost compliment. “Of course I am. My greatest achievements being almost getting killed by goblins and shadow creatures only to end up abused at the hands of a megalomaniac. You have a strange definition of hero.”

Dammon glanced up at his confession and Rolan realized too late what he’d admitted. He couldn’t meet the blacksmith’s gaze, this time he was the one to stare out into the crowd. “Lorroakan did what?”

Shit.

“I… Karlach told me about the aasimar, but not-”

Rolan waved the concern away, trying not to feel embarrassed at how easy it was to talk to Dammon. Like old times, indeed. “It’s fine. I’m fine. If it makes it easier to swallow, I helped to throw him from the Tower.”

“It does not.” Dammon sighed, closing his eyes and breathing slowly as if to calm himself. “If I had known, if you’d told me-”

“It changes nothing. Lorroakan is dead and I’m the new Master of the Tower. It’s taken a lot of work but it is mine now. And the Realms’. Knowledge shouldn’t be hoarded.”

Dammon made a noise low in his throat. A strangled laugh. At least, that’s what he thought it was.

“Is something funny?”

“I didn’t expect you to see the silver lining in such an awful situation. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always had confidence in excess.”

“Confidence or not, I’ve had plenty of practice surviving. We both have, it seems.”

Dammon bit his lip, concentrating on the words for what they were, a truth that was impossible for him to refute. They’d both done quite a bit of surviving over the last few years. Together and not.

And that was the problem, Rolan realized. Despite everything he’d gained, the safety and security of his position, the wealth and knowledge at his fingertips, the wonderful lives that he always swore he’d provide for his siblings, he was still in survival mode. A difficult habit to break, for sure.

“Rolan, I-”

Clearing his throat, Rolan cut Dammon off before he could get anything else out. The last thing he wanted was a heart to heart in such a public place, with the man who he, once upon a time, wanted something more with. “I apologize, but I really must return to the tower. It’s excellent that you’re well, Dammon. Truly. Perhaps, in the future, you can regale me with tales of your fight in Avernus.”

A brief flash of uncertainty crossed Dammon’s face before he hid it behind a smile. The blacksmith was always levelheaded, more so than Rolan ever was.

Rolan turned away, intending to disappear into the crowd without another word, when a hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks before he could take a single step. “Ah, here you are. The man I was looking for. Where are you off in such a rush?”

Wyll. Of all the people who could’ve caught his escape, it had to be the one whose disappointment would hurt most.

“I’m terribly sorry for leaving so soon… there are things I forgot that must be done, tonight-”

Wyll tsked, shaking his head with a frown on his face. For a brief moment, Rolan felt like a child again, being scolded by the matron of the orphanage he’d been abandoned at. The expression always rankled and this was no exception.

“The Archmage of Baldur’s Gate must stay for one dance. Come, I haven’t seen you in nearly a year and you’ve been standing here stiff as the statue my father said Lia had commissioned of you.”

“She did what?”

“I must insist that you enjoy yourself.” Wyll smiled kindly, nodding towards the dance floor. Rolan’s heart thudded dangerously fast in his chest at the thought of twirling among the other guests. Dancing wasn’t one of his strengths. He couldn’t recall ever having to do so. “Please. Think of it as a favor to an old friend.”

Damn him.

“I’m sure I can enjoy myself quite well with another glass of wine.”

Dammon coughed, covering his mouth with a hand, eyes staring at his feet. Rolan easily saw the smirk he attempted but completely failed to hide. So this was an ambush, was it?

“You mustn’t leave us so soon, Rolan.” Wyll continued as Karlach joined them, the fitted ebony gown looking even more stunning up close. She slipped her hand into Wyll’s, the joy of being to touch her love clear on her face. “There is plenty of fun left to be had.”

“But, I don’t have a partner.” Rolan responded, a smug grin aimed in the direction of the blacksmith. Dammon’s eyes widened slightly, as if he realized where Rolan’s thoughts had gone. If I have to suffer this madness, then so do you.

“Crazy idea!” Karlach interrupted, a grin breaking out across her lips, excitement sparkling in those glowing golden eyes. “You and Dammon could dance. Together. Because if it’s one thing I know after all of this crazy shit, it’s that everyone needs a chance to find that special person that makes them better. And Dammon here,” Karlach nudged him with an elbow, a grin that could light the Hells on her face. “Well, let’s just say he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since we left for Avernus.”

A blush colored Dammon’s cheeks at the revelation. “Karlach!”

“Was it a secret?” She asked, seeming genuinely confused and Rolan might’ve laughed if he wasn’t so embarrassed. “Come on, the two of you are irritatingly obvious and if I have to throw you into a wardrobe until you finally just f-”

“What Karlach means to say is-” Wyll cut her off, tugging her away from the two of them with a laugh. But not before throwing one last look at them. “Enjoy yourselves.”

Karlach’s laughter faded into the murmurs of the crowd, the son of an Archduke and the tiefling barbarian he loved finding the time to enjoy their lives now that the latest crisis had passed. Rolan released a breath, feeling the tightness in his chest ease only a little, a new fear warring inside of him. With a quick glance in Dammon’s direction, he wasn’t surprised to see the blacksmith studying him.

“I think that was the most polite threat I’ve ever had aimed at me.”

Rolan laughed, feeling breathless, and perhaps a little dizzy. It was definitely a threat, but one he might actually not be afraid of the consequences of. “I guess we have only one option then. That is, if you’re amenable to a dance.”

Hells, was he really doing this? He didn’t even really know how to dance a proper waltz.

Dammon raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him. “Is that what you want?”

The man was so annoyingly handsome, with his light hair cascading around his face and striking blue eyes that haunted Rolan so many nights since their first meeting in Elturel. And here they were, both alive and settled in Baldur’s Gate, surrounded by friends, living the future they’d only dreamed about. Dammon was watching him intently, a soft grin curling his lips in a way that left Rolan’s insides feeling like pudding.

Holding his arm out in invitation, he tried to quell the erratic beat of his heart when Dammon linked their arms together, fingers brushing softly against his forearm.

Dammon was alive. After all of this time. The Hells hadn’t destroyed him, hadn’t changed him. His eyes were still kind, soft, beautiful. And to touch him after everything...

The room was too warm, too crowded, too bright, but when Dammon turned to face him in the midst of it all, everything faded to background noise. The only thing Rolan could see was the hypnotic azure of his eyes, a golden ring around his irises that was the same color as a noonday sun. There was a pink flush to his cheeks, the candles in the chandelier above highlighting the gold in his blond hair. Dammon was ethereal, dazzling, and too good for him.

The orchestra began its song, the music swelling around them as Dammon took the lead, free hand sliding to Rolan’s waist while the other gripped his hand gently. Then, without warning, they were moving, no, gliding, across the dance floor, their feet barely touching the ground as they went. Rolan knew there were eyes on them, he felt them burning into the back of his head, but the look of unadulterated bliss on Dammon’s face kept his attention.

There was nothing more beautiful to him than the sight of Dammon’s smile as they spun in the complicated dance, his face flushed in exhilaration, a laugh on his lips that came out awed, delighted.

“You’re good at this.” Rolan said, forgetting himself in the moment. He felt weightless as Dammon changed direction, stepping even closer. Blush creeped up his neck at the soft brush of their chests and his breath caught in his throat. “Uh, dancing, that is.”

Dammon chuckled, barely able to hide the smile on his face. “You are kind to say that. I admit, it’s been a while.”

The music picked up speed, a tempo that had the rest of the dancers spinning madly around them. Dammon’s gloved fingers tightened on his hip, digging into his waist and if his hands weren’t protected by the thick gloves he wore, his claws would’ve drawn blood. Rolan clenched his hand against Dammon’s shoulder, letting the music distract him from the sudden uncomfortable feeling flooding through him. Closing his eyes, he let Dammon lead him through the dance, each twirl and sway of their bodies, each tap of their feet to the rhythm, each brush against the other’s body nothing short of intoxicating.

Rolan wanted to stay in this moment indefinitely, free of responsibility for the first time in months, with the air rushing by as he realized how much he truly did enjoy dancing. At least, he did in the arms of a man who clearly knew what he was doing.

“Can I be honest with you?”

Dammon’s question pulled Rolan from his mind. He opened his eyes to find his friend watching him intently. His eyes begged for understanding, for a chance to be vulnerable. Rolan, at least, owed him that much. “

After a beat, Dammon realized his breath, tilting his head slightly to watch out for other revelers, focusing on everything but Rolan’s face. Almost as if he couldn’t bear to see his expression at his revelation. “I didn’t believe I would survive the trip to Avernus. I’d accepted that the Hells would be my tomb. That I would never see the sky again. Never see my friends from Elturel again. But whenever Karlach or I started to doubt, the Blade of Frontiers was there filling our heads with hope.”

“That does sound like him. Irritatingly so.”

Dammon laughed, a soft sound that loosened the butterflies in his stomach and he nearly felt as if he’d be sick. “If there is one word to describe Wyll Ravengard, it is hero.”

“A hero, yes, that’s for certain.” Rolan snorted, leaning forward to glance around them. Guests were still coming and going, and would be well into the night, and for a moment he contented himself with watching the glittering jewelry and fabric, the gilded gold and gemstones, the dancing lights above. It was lovely to behold, this moment of peaceful bliss.

“Do you have an issue with heroic types, Rolan?”

The question brought his gaze back to Dammon and the smile that greeted him there. He was teasing, eyes hooded and sparkling with laughter, and they twirled again, in their own world where no one else but them existed. “Depends on the hero we’re talking about. But to answer your question. No, I don’t have an issue with them. Not anymore.”

With a shake of his head, a breathless laugh escaped his lips, but he didn’t once take his eyes from Rolan’s. “Well, that’s excellent news because I’m dancing with my hero. To be fair, I almost feel like I'm dreaming.”

Rolan might’ve scoffed if the admission didn’t shock him. “Me? A hero? I think the Hells scrambled your brain.”

Dammon rolled his eyes, but sidled closer, their bodies touching again as they danced. “You saved us in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. I wouldn’t be here if not for you so… thank you.”

Rolan broke eye contact, staring at where their hands were entwined. Maybe… this was a second chance. Maybe there was more here than either of them expected. Perhaps, together, they could figure out what that was.

With a smile, he returned his gaze to Dammon, thoughts of a divine dream dancing in his head. A dream that he refused to imagine for so long that he craved it as much as he did the wine in his goblet. His hand tangled into the golden locks that brushed Dammon’s shoulders, enjoying the shiver that ran down his spine at the silkiness.

“If you’re staying in the city, I’m certain I’ll need your heroics to save me. From a stuck cork in a wine bottle, perhaps?”

Dammon laughed, the sound a balm for the soul but did little for the erratic beating of his heart in his chest. “I’m sure I can handle that.”

Yes, quite the divine dream.

#my writing #bg3 #bg3 fic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon #rolan x dammon #dammon x rolan #wyll ravengard #karlach #wyll x karlach

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to-the-stars8 · 1 year

Text

Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3

49-Stake-Outs and Civilian Partners

“Jason quit texting your girlfriend and actually participate in the stakeout.”

Jason shot Tim a look before realizing that, with the helmet, he couldn’t see it so he opted to just flip him off. Tim rolled his eyes before resting comfortably on the edge of the rooftop, throwing glances at Jason every now and then.

“You keep looking at me, why?” Jason asked, finally putting his phone in his pocket.

Tim could feel his face get hot at being caught but played it off. “I…was wondering how are things between you and your girlfriend? I know dating civilians can be difficult. From personal experience.”

Jason felt guilt flush into his chest because he had totally forgotten about Bernard, not even caring so much as to ask how his relationship was going. He thought for a second as he ran a hand over his red helmet in a piss-poor attempt to move back his hair. Another nervous habit of his. “We’re doing good.”

Tim nodded, looking into the distance but not so much as seeing. Finally, Jason asked, “How are you and Bernard?”

“Not great,” He said, letting out a huge sigh like he was relieved to finally be able to talk about it with someone who would understand. “It’s getting difficult to juggle this life—” He gestured to himself. “And our relationship.”

“Elaborate.”

Tim was hesitant to answer but decided that maybe—maybe— Jason would have something worthwhile to say. So, he told him how Bernard had noticed Tim was getting too into his cases and putting off dates. Admittedly, he had been because if he didn’t then he might miss something important that could put his case at risk—or worse, his family. Tim had tried explaining to Bernard why this was so important to him, and, in turn, his boyfriend tried to understand. Yet, working on some type of compromise was difficult.

Jason understood where he was coming from, for the most part. There had been countless nights where Jason had put off dates and events the two of you had planned. In return, he had doubled his efforts to let you know how he felt and that, no matter what, you were extremely important to him. He told Tim as much, but it didn’t seem to help.

“I’m thinking about breaking up with him,” Tim said, tears welling up in his eyes under his mask. “I…just don’t know. I love him, but I also hate hurting him like this.”

Jason didn’t want to give his opinion at first, but finally said, “I’m gonna be honest with you, Timmy, you gotta do more than just say you’re gonna come up with a compromise because that shit’s easy. It’s the doing it that’s hard.”

Tim didn’t say anything much, staying silent as he thought more about what Jason meant. He could feel his heartbeat quicken and anxiety tear at his heart. Tim, above all else, loved Bernard. He was just as goofy, loving, and fun, all the best parts that Tim thought he didn’t have.

“Tim,” Jason clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay. It’s a struggle, I know. I’m still learning myself, but you’ll get through it. Plus, if you want a civilian point of view you should talk to my civilian girlfriend.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but he was seriously considering it. “Okay, whatever, Jason.”

“Just sayin’,” Jason said as he spotted the bank robbers on the side of the building. “Well, off-brand bird boy, this is our cue.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #romance #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood #red hood x reader #batfamily #robin jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #tim drake #red robin #batfam #tim drake headcanon #bruce wayne #bernard x tim #tim x bernard

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floral-poisons · 2 years

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Can you do a headcannons of leona, vil, cater, malleus and floyd reacting to their crush (gn!reader) being confessed to the day they also planned to confess? Reader rejects the first confessor but they don't know that LOL. Also your blog was what made me start falling for Vil!

hi anon!! i'm so happy my vil agenda is being so successful!! i am an avid vil lover and i can understand why people wouldn't like him, but i think we all need a vil in our lives sometimes. i know he would make me get my shit together (and then rook would help too).

thankfully angst is my specialty according to the anons telling me i love angst~

also i kind of want more like...introspective cater (and in general more of his cards like come on stop avoiding me, him and kalim man). like his groovy ceremonial robes is kind of refreshing and like a peek behind the mask. anyways he’s probably the character i would write the most angst for if i had unlimited writing energy. can you guys tell i’m starting to become a simp for cater?

honestly though i can definitely turn these into like full fics for full elaboration on the characters and the aftermath of the miscommunication.

curious about part two? read it here!! (ft. malleus, cater, and vil)

MALLEUS DRACONIA

malleus has been around for a bit. he’s watched people come and go, most notably humans. humans had the lack of longevity that fae had. but there was one human he didn’t want to see fade away: you.

the time you two spent had caused him to grow fond of you. sometimes you two would hang out late into the night and he’d come back to a very worried sebek, telling malleus that he should’ve told him he was going to come back late.

he had plans to confess. and great seven, he went through a lot of work for this confession. he even wrote and memorized a speech for you which went through lilia first.

“ah, young love. it’s been a while since i helped with a confession.” the old man chuckles. “though you have quite the romantic touch malleus. and all for (y/n)...”

malleus would make sure he would not become tongue tied when professing his romantic affection to you. but then again, you always made him tongue tied. you were the only human that could.

he remembered you under the moonlight. your skin glowed and the wind gentle blew against your hair and clothes. you looked ethereal, like a divine being who was only meant to be here temporarily. you’d disappear like the cherry blossoms.

the two of you were going to go to a show held by the pop music club. you hadn’t forgotten to invite him. you would never forget to invite him. and he was going to confess afterwards. he had everything planned out in his head. and every time he thought about the possible end results, a dreamy smile crossed his face.

surely, you’d reciprocate. right?

his footsteps were silent as he approached you from the distance. and yet, he froze seeing someone come up to you.

it was another diasomnia student. they were still wearing their school uniform as they approached you. and he could hear them. he felt his heart drop to his stomach. “(y/n)...i really like you. you’re quite interesting for a human you know. and i would like to get to know you better.”

he turned around and began walking away. he needed to be alone for a bit as he felt his heart beat increase and his hands shake. of course it made sense. why choose him when you could have someone who was normal? a normal citizen? someone who wasn’t revered? there was a lot less hassle to handle.

he could only collapse on his bed in his dorm. you’d say yes. and then you two would start dating...and he would be on the sidelines, watching. maybe you would be the type to prioritize a partner over your friends. he would become uninvited. it would be gradual, slow.

the idea of loneliness settled in his mind and he felt his eyes begin to tear up thinking about wandering without you. why did he have the sudden urge to cry? it’s not like you were together. it was unfair of him to have the expectation that you’d say yes. it was selfish of him. he let himself get carried away.

the great malleus draconia has fallen.

CATER DIAMOND

confessing...it couldn’t be harder than forming a caption. they were similar in that way. it had to be meaningful, short and sweet. that was the best confession wasn’t it?

you had seen sides of cater that no one else has really seen. you’ve seen him frown and be upset and lose his happy-go-lucky persona that everyone loves on magicam. that was the curse of social media, you guess.

today was particularly special. he was going to confess. you were his rock, his anchor. you got him through those episodes of depression that just...really made him not want to leave his bed or room.

he even measured out the sides of his diamond with his makeup. and he did it in black compared to his normal red. you told him the black one looked really good on him during halloween and that he should do it more often.

his heart swelled at the thought of confessing to you. and it swelled even more when he thought of the potential feelings you could reciprocate. he felt his cheeks heat up thinking about taking you on a date.

he would make sure to treat you like the royalty you are.

night had fallen and he was walking over to your meeting spot. the two of you had decided to attend the movie screening hosted by the film appreciation club. they were airing a rom-com tonight. funny right?

you came into his line of sight and again, cater’s heart swelled. you looked so good tonight even if you were in your normal clothes. there was a skip in his step as he began to close the distance between you two.

and then it all fell apart.

someone approached you. they were still in their uniform. octavinelle. he couldn’t hear what they said. but he could read their lips. “i like you a lot (y/n). and i have since i first met you. do you wanna sit with me at the movie screening?”

what was he thinking? he was in over his head! you wouldn’t choose him. why would you? he had so many problems underneath the surface. he was broken. you were stressed out. and he would add to that stress. why would you choose someone as broken as cater diamond?

he turned around and ran. you didn’t notice him because the sudden confession from your classmate shocked you and you had been on your phone before, scrolling through cater’s magicam. you contemplated if you should confess your affection for him tonight during the movie.

cater had to catch his breath. he had ran back to his dorm and into the rose maze. here there was solitude and he would be left alone. the two of you spent a lot of time here. he felt his heart squeeze with pain.

“these roses are half painted...riddle’s going to be irritated in the morning.” he sighed. he put his phone up and activated the camera, positioning himself in front of the roses. he smile his signature smile and gestured to the roses. once he took a few pictures, his smile turned into a frown as he picked which one to post to magicam.

Found these half painted roses! Heartslabyul, you know that’s not how we do it! #FirstYearMistakes #InTheZone #DoItMyself

VIL SCHOENHEIT

he had a plan. it was a very meticulous plan that he made sure to optimize. making sure you were free? check. making sure it would during a time where you two could be private? check.

he had to look his best today too. he needed to make sure he looked worthy enough for your affection!

“you got this.” he smiled in the mirror. “confidence is key!” but why was he so nervous? he shouldn’t have been. you two have been friends for a while now and he was certain that you liked him back. rook had approved of the plan.

it was obvious that vil had a crush on you to rook. why wouldn’t vil have a crush on you? you were just gorgeous to look at. you had a glow to yourself that was only yours. and he was smitten by that glow. he was smitten by you.

you spent time with him, ran with him. you even helped him practice dancing and his singing so he could prepare for competitions. you went shopping with him and gave your honest opinion when most people would rather sugarcoat and get on his good side. he despised that. but he didn’t despise you.

a lot of things could go wrong though. life was unpredictable. and you were a noticeable presence at school. people were bound to cause his plan to unfold. but vil had faith. he had complete faith.

his plan seemed to be going well. he found you in the cafeteria and was ready to approach you.

vil stopped in his heels upon seeing another student in front of you, talking to you. he overheard what the student said.

“i like you (y/n). and i was hoping that you’d be my date to the yearly carnival?” the savanaclaw student looked nervous

a sudden pang rammed its way through his heart. he felt his hand begin to shake slightly. and he felt speechless. all his confidence from earlier completely shattered and collapsed.

you’d say yes without a doubt. a savanaclaw student was asking you out. and you had told vil your general preference were athletes. and well...guess which dorm was full of them.

vil cleared his throat and turned around, walking away. his heels clicked along to the hurt beat of his heart.

he never stood a chance, did he?

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

it wasn’t like him to put this much effort into something. but this wasn’t school. this was his personal life. and that involved you. you were the special thing in his life.

for weeks now, leona has been contemplating on how to confess to you. he had fallen for you. hard too.

ruggie often teased him from how noticeably sheepish leona got when you were around and how leona put in extra effort to see you, talk to you, hold your hand even.

he walked you to class, got lunch for you, woke up early just to see you in the morning. he even went with you on errands which gave him a much more intimate look at you and vice versa.

leona didn’t have a plan. he would wing it once he found you and asked to talk to you in private.

after all, the best words would be words from the heart.

the bell of your final class had rung. you were helping put stuff away after your potionology lab. and leona decided this would be the perfect chance to confess.

except someone had beat him.

“(y/n) i...i really like you! i like you a lot! you’re brave and you’re funny and...would you go out with me?” the student professed.

he saw the dorm logo on the sleeve of the lab coat. pomefiore. you always said you had a thing for people that kept up beauty regiments and were more put together. which was...different from him.

what had he been thinking? you? choose him? someone from pomefiore had the ambition that he lacked. they were more put together than him. they were flawless. and he was full of flaws. why settle for him? you deserved better. you didn’t deserve someone as subpar as him.

leona couldn’t help but turn away from the two of you, blocking out any other noise as he quickly put away what he needed. he swiftly walked away, needing to change. he could feel tears beginning to form in his eyes. “stupid, stupid, stupid.” he mutters.

why did he even put in effort?

FLOYD LEECH

floyd was an unpredictable student. a lot of students feared him because of his mood swings. but for some odd reason, he was quite stable with you. you saw a stable floyd. you were aware of his mood swings. but something about you calmed him and allowed him to be leveled.

he thought he would scare you when you first met. there was nothing better than intimidating newbies. and yet you just looked up at him, smiled, and said he was very tall and it reminded you of your younger brother back home (it wasn’t fair how you were the shorter child even though you were older).

that quickly made him nosedive into falling for you.

you were bold, honest, straightforward. you wouldn’t handle other people’s bullshit which is probably why you dealt with overblots so well. “i just wanted to pass midterms and relax! and now i have to deal with your overblotted ass!” is what you had yelled at azul after he overblotted.

your boldness was just...so fucking hot. he felt his face become red every time he witnessed it. it was just...divine.

it was an impulse decision to confess to you. he had just finished basketball practice with ace and jamil. jamil was surprised today because floyd had been playing rather gentle compared to his usual competitive fervor. the moray’s head was filled of thoughts about you, not basketball.

he found you at the mostro lounge, sitting alone and looking at the menu. you were contemplating what to eat. floyd knew what you would order. it would be your favorite meal. you were consistent and predictable.

life however? not so much. life was more like floyd.

he was going to walk over, but someone else approached your table. it was a dude from heartslabyul. his pale face was completely red. and floyd could hear words he didn’t want to hear.

“(y/n)! i...i really like you! and i...will you go on a date with me?” you were surprised. this was...not expected. and in public too. why were men so bold? why did men have the audacity?

floyd angrily scoffed and turned around, walking away. he felt his body get hot with anger. but after a few minutes, it dissipated. what’s to stop you from saying no? why would you say yes to floyd anyways? he was unstable, unpredictable. this other dude was probably predictable and stable. he was foolish to think that?

“fuck...maybe azul has some first years acting ridiculous so i can squeeze them.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #pomefiore #heartslabyul #diasomnia #octavinelle #savanaclaw #vil schoenheit #malleus draconia #cater diamond #leona kingscholar #floyd leech

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bts-hyperfixation · 1 year

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How are bangtan spending new years with a partner?

Namjoon: Has some kind of elaborate plan made up. He started it their first year of dating and to get their attention and realised how badly he fucked up when he decided to up himself every year. It started with an intimate dinner with food brought in from the restaurant of their first date. The next year there were tickets to a private box for a light show. Then he presented them with tickets to a museum tour just for them where they could watch the fireworks from the roof. He is getting extremely stressed thinking of anything this year when his partner surprises him with tickets to another country (weeks in advance so he doesn't have to plan anything). He still brings a ring with him for a midnight walk along the beach.

Seokjin: He hosts a new years dinner party and game night in their apartment. Everyone is coupled up. Obviously, the couples have this built-in, but all of the singles are carefully masterminded into partnerships that Jin and his partner think would be cute. To make it fair they make it seem random, splitting regular couples up into new pairs, but people do start to think it's odd that married people end up with other married people and the singles end up with strangers they've never met before. (Jin's favourite pair will always be Yoongi and the mail person from his partner's firm... they have been together for four years nearly, it gives Jin a horrendous ego)

Yoongi: Loves an intimate night in. Sets up snacks and a movie that he can watch in bed with his partner. They talk about their new year's plans, all their resolutions and dreams for the next 12 months. They spend time reflecting on everything they have managed over the last 12 months. They dirft in and out of paying attention to the film and paying attention to each other, playing with each others hands, sharing idle kisses, checking the time so they don't miss the ball drop.

Hoseok: Hires a private karaoke. Dances all night with his partner and their friends. Drinks are offered by the bottle, they play games to talk about the next year, everyone has a chance for a solo to which Hobi claps the loudest, but never louder than he does for his partner. The music turns off at midnight and they share a toast. He and his partner head home and spend the next hour alone, talking, drinking, kissing, delighting in one another's company now that it's just the two of them. Seems like the type to have a morning walk tradition to start the new year off the right way no matter how hungover they are.

Jimin: Likely to want to spend time with family. Maybe his ad's restaurant is hosting a New Year celebration so he and his partner attend. It's a lot of drinking and chatting. His hand stays on his partner's hip all night if they are standing. If they are sat either he is on their lap or they are on his. They share a chaste kiss at midnight. Then they help with clear up, celebrating with family until they escape and pass out until the next morning.

Taehyung: Once Taehyugn settles down I think he would quite happily settle in for a quiet life. Escaping to the countryside with his partner, walking up a hill at 11pm and setting up a picnic so they could be under the stars for the strike of midnight. Delicious snacks and good champagne. Slow dancing as fireworks go off somewhere far in the distance. Continuing this tradition after having children, his little princess dances on his toes while his partner holds the baby, a dog running around trying to trip them up.

Jungkook: Loves New Year with a partner. The first year he gets tickets to the biggest gathering of people he can to impress his partner, only to realise he didn't get to spend the amount of time he wanted to with them and he had to share his attention and he is far to jealous a person for that. Every subsequent year he tries for something more intimate. They settle on a tradition of hiring a boat and releasing a latern with their new years resolutions on them.#

I’m alone for new years! send me an ask to keep me company! Let me know what you are doing this year!

Taehyung's is my ideal, what about yours?

#bts fic #bts imagines #bts fluff #namjoon fic #seokjin fic #yoongi fic #hoseok fic #jimin fic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #namjoon fluff #seokjin fluff #yoongi fluff #hoseok fluff #jungkook fluff #jimin fluff #taehyung fluff

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pashminalamb · 1 year

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Is it okay to talk about Yandere Blue Lock characters with you? If so, what's your take on Nagi, Oliver, or Rin (I just finished reading Breaking mirrors and so I thought of their names immediately lololol) being yandere for fem!reader? Feel free to roam free with your imagination as you wish. However, if you're not okay with yandere-themed asks, it's okii not to elaborate uwu, all I can say is.. thank you for reading my ask!

Absolutely! (｡>﹏<) i like writing yandere themes as well (this is my first ask acutally) - i focus more on the psychological part of it; I don’t like writing about guro. My take on the Nagi, Oliver and Rin as yanderes :

Warning : dc (dark content), emotional manipulation, mentions of starvation, mentions of chaining down, mentions of baby trapping, psychological mindbreak.

Nagi would be a mild yandere, but also the most unpredictable one. Will be jealous of anything and needs full time attention not to mention that he’s clingy- to the point where it’s not adorable, but it’s overbearing and smothering you. So rather than living with a boyfriend; you’re his official caretaker. He has separation anxiety- and always wants to be around you to the point that it’s actually suffocating and you can’t have any space. Try bringing it up-

“I want some alone time to think Seishiro. I need some space.”

“I don’t care. I wanna stay here.”

He knows he is cute and adorable when he speaks softly; so he’ll use it to his advantage to make you give him anything - which includes emotional manipulation.

“Do you know how much you’re hurting me?”

“Why can’t you stay with me? That’s all I’m asking of you. Is that too much to give?”

Oliver if he had to be a yandere… he’s definitely the type to plan ahead of time itself. He is the kind to get addicted to you. Even after he tried meeting with other girls- he can’t stop thinking about you; thinks it’s cheating when he even considers of asking another girl at the bar out. So it narrows to two options, talking to you and dating you. He has the reputation of playboy and he can use it quite well; here’s why- when you start dating your friends begin warning you that he is a red flag and that something seems off about him.

“Your friends don’t like me?”

“I care for you, you know that don’t you?”

“You wanna see my phone? There are no other contacts there. Just you, my mother, sister and niece.”

“What should I do for you to not doubt me?”

His exes start disappearing, and your friends grow concerned. He’ll sweet word his way into your mind, telling you that he is good for you; your friends don’t know anything about your relationship. If they were really your friends, they should be happy for you. Soon you start cutting them off one by one until you have no one left to turn to but him. Oliver’s plan is a very meticulous one- first was to isolate you from friends and family. The second being relying on him solely for the validation of your existence, basically Stockholm syndrome. The third plan was the one in case everything else failed - trapping you with his child. And you’ll never see it coming because Oliver is just so sweet.

Rin would be a strict yandere. He is all about punishments and getting things done to the point of perfection. If you’re defiant and don’t do what he says, he will punish you; from not giving you meals to chaining you to the bedpost or to a handle he attached specially to the wall. He won’t allow bathroom privileges either and humiliate you if you can’t hold it in.

He goes hard on you until your will is broken and you’re in a fragile state of mind- to the point where you would do anything to get his attention. He is also very sadistic, and finds it “adorable” when you’re trying to get his attention, even testing the boundaries of it.

“And why should I pay attention to a pathetic little thing like you.”

“You can’t do anything by yourself can you? Always need me.”

“What would you even do without me.”

“You can’t live without me, you need me.”

His aim - first breaking your will. Second, making you broken to a point where you can’t function well without him. He wants you to live for him and be completely dependent on him. And third, making sure you can’t fathom even the thought of leaving him. He knows he’s won when you’re very broken for him.

#belle.☏#.lost sheep : anon #belle.🥛#.⚠️: starvation #.⚠️ : mindbreak

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maylorscardigan · 11 months

Note

You know what song is probably about Matty? STYLE. She said she wrote that song about that person she had in her life that came in and out of it and that they always found a way back to each other. She also said she felt like that person would one day stop her wedding 😍

Who else could it be? I mean, if they’re twin flames she wouldn’t write that song about anyone else. She also said that person was one of her best friends at that point (late 2014).

I personally believe he was an inspiration for the song and naming it style is a good way of throwing fans off the trail. Which Taylor has done many times. She is a master mind at making songs so convincingly about one thing but it’s really something else.

Or - and I say this as someone who is going to have a Ph.D in Psychology soon… let’s say she originally got inspired by Harry, hence the name, once she got deeper into writing it her subconscious took it another direction. The subconscious is a writers superpower.

I won’t go into elaborate detail about this but we aren’t typically aware of our subconscious is doing. You can have some degree of awareness of it but never fully - and I’ve written a paper on the subconscious and Taylor’s music before.

Let’s go on the assumption that Taylor met Matty back in 2011 / 2012 (I don’t feel like arguing with fans right now over theories of meeting earlier so let’s go with this) while piecing together plans for the Red Tour, which was announced in October 2012. Typically, opening acts are announced with the tours dates. So - let’s say somewhere between 2011 to 2013 something happened between them and it was brief, fast and fleeting. Okay that’s established.

Then she has a relationship with what is basically the “good boy” version of Matty. They’re very similar but Harry is an Angel when compared to how Matty was back then. So she dates Harry and when they break up she gets to writing and starts writing Style. Consciously, the part we are aware of, she is writing about Harry but subconsciously she is writing about another boy… a real James Dean type.

And one of the main reasons I believe that Taylor may have written Style about Matty either directly or subconsciously is because of this part:

I say, "I heard, oh, that you've been out and about with some other girl, some other girl."

He says, "What you've heard is true but I

Can't stop thinking about you," and I

I said, "I've been there, too, a few times."

It suggests that Harry had been with some other girl during a period of separation. And he was. With a few women. (Time they broke up in January 2013 to 1989s release) while Taylor… didn’t really date anyone in between Harry and Calvin… yes Matty is mixed in with that but this was more towards the time she started with Calvin. Therefore, the lyrics don’t really make sense. However - with Matty, from the time you consider when they first met until they ran back into each others lives… they had both been with people.

Again - she may have done this intentionally writing the song consciously about MH or even both boys. Or she did it on a subconscious level.

I know Haylor fans are going to come for me. I’ve gotten numerous long winded histories then had them say (oh I’m not a Haylor…. Riiiight)

But that’s my take.

#taylor swift #matty healy #the 1975 #maylor #tatty #matty and taylor #taylor and matty #anon

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alilybit · 1 month

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positivity is important so here’s a positive coming out story:

it’s now been one year (2023-03-26) since i’ve told my “little” brother (15 at the time) that i’m trans. it was my first “proper” coming out, the only person who knew before was my best friend and i never had to come out to him because we’ve been a part of each other’s lives since 2012 and so he partially witnessed the entire process starting from me playing as a female version of myself in pokemon while coming up with excuses for it, to me starting to question, and eventually changing my name in our chat and in private games we played together.

i’ve been wanting to tell my brother for months so i wouldn’t have to hide it from him any longer, but i was too scared. and on top of that, right-wing propaganda has taught me that telling people under the age of 18 about the existence of anything outside of cis and straight is child abuse. and i was (and still am but it’s getting better) still struggling with accepting that me being trans is okay.

i hadn’t planned to tell him that day, it just sort of happened. it was late at night and we were both in our beds, texting each other on matrix on our mobile devices. and then i felt that this might be the time and i should just do it now instead of continuing to be afraid of it and planning to elaborately plan it beforehand. and so i typed the message and eventually pressed the physical enter key on my tiny physical phone keyboard. for the first time i phrased it like “i’ve kind of always wanted to be a girl, i am trans” instead of “i think i might possibly be trans because i kind of feel like a girl and it somehow makes me happy but also what if i’m wrong and what if being trans is not real and bad and disgusting after all”. saying “i am trans” to another person was really scary and felt too big and definitive and somehow pretentious, but i didn’t know how much he knew about trans people and i worried that he might think i’m (even more) crazy if i sound like i’m not even sure about this myself. and i am sure, i just have way too much internalised transphobia and homophobia and way too little self-confidence. i also hoped that phrasing it in a definitive way would help me become more confident. so that’s what i said. and as “proof” i mentioned some things he already knew and i sent him a screenshot of my female pokemon protagonists dating back to 2013.

and he accepted it. naturally he asked questions that i was happy (although nervous) to answer because we love and trust each other and i knew that they were genuine well-intentioned questions. he might not understand how someone could not feel at home in the gender they were assigned (just like how i don’t understand how apparently not every boy wants to be a girl) but he fully accepts and supports me.

afterwards i felt very relieved, but even more guilty and disgusted by myself. i had internalised the narrative of telling minors about the existence of disgusting gays and transes equals child abuse too much and doubted if i had done the right thing, even though i knew that it was the right thing to tell him for my sake and even more because it’s important for him to know about this stuff, both for him should he discover that he is not straight and/or cis and so he learns that queer people are just people. which has unfortunately not really been a part of our upbringing or education or environment. not knowing that LGBTQ things exist or are acceptable and thinking oneself is broken or wrong is the real abuse. but over the next few days the guilt grew smaller and joy won. shortly after i also felt safe enough to tell him about the time i had a crush on a boy and that i might be on the bisexual spectrum (figuring out more on that has been a big and difficult thing over the past year with an important realisation just this month, more on all of that some other time).

i have no words for how important and positive it was for both of us that i told him all of this. i love my brother with all my heart, and he loves me too, now as his big sister lily. and since i finally told him, we’ve grown even closer and i’m so happy that i can be open about this and be myself around him in this aspect too. it turned out there was no reason to worry after all because we love each other no matter what. he has guarded the secret well, but we’re used to keeping each other’s secrets. recently when he and our mum visited me he even made sure my (musical) keyboard with trans stickers was covered before our mum came in so she wouldn’t see them.

we may not be the Ph Brothers anymore but we are the Stardew Siblings, and we love each other more than ever.

#trans #coming out #trans positivity

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chemmerson · 2 years

Text

just for tonight - part one

Business man!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader, Modern AU

Nanami needs a date for a wedding, and Gojo won't let him go without one. Nanami can really only think of one person he can stand for an extended period of time, and that person happens to be you.

Chapters: 1/?

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: none!

A/N: hiii back with another nanami story!! so my plan for this story is to post all of it here, and then have two different endings on ao3. i got that idea from my friend @/lemony-snickers. that way everyone can enjoy the fluff here and then if you want to check out the alternate ending, you can on ao3 with the proper tags.

business man nanami has a chokehold on me and this is the product of that brainrot. enjoy you nanami lovers <3

read on ao3

masterpost

———

“I’m not saying you need a date, I’m saying if you show up without a date then it will look weird.”

Nanami narrowed his eyes at Gojo who was sitting quite smugly across the small table, blue eyes peeking up from behind his sunglasses. Gojo was nonchalantly watching the people passing by their table, and then he glanced at Nanami to await his response.

Nanami had no response though, and he hadn’t had a response the entire time they were having this conversation because he thought it was ridiculous.

Nanami just sipped his coffee and continued to stare at Gojo blankly.

“Come on, Nanamin,” Gojo threw his hand up in the air. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m telling you. Everyone is going to have a date.”

“Everyone, huh?” Nanami replied unamusedly.

Gojo sighed and sank back into his seat with his arms crossed, still looking at Nanami over the top of his sunglasses. “Yes, everyone. Even Utahime…”

Nanami didn’t miss the way Gojo had mumbled that last part. He raised an eyebrow and waited for Gojo to elaborate, but Gojo just looked away.

Nanami took another sip of his coffee. “So Utahime has a date?”

Gojo didn’t look at Nanami. “Yeah, some random guy. I don’t know.”

Nanami had to fight down his smile and just hummed in response.

It was Saturday morning, Nanami and Gojo’s day off. Gojo had texted Nanami to meet him at a cafe to discuss the upcoming wedding that they and everyone from their office had been invited to. Apparently, the woman from their office, who Nanami had never spoken to, was having a very upscale wedding with a large attendance. Nanami wasn’t going to go at all since he had no idea who the woman was, but Gojo had convinced him because apparently everyone from the office was going.

Nanami had gotten the invitation through his email. Next to his name, it had read “plus one” which Nanami had no intention of following through with. But everyone else had also gotten a plus one, and Gojo had called an emergency meeting to discuss the detail on their day off.

Nanami declined immediately because he didn’t want to entertain Gojo on their day off. But Gojo said they could go to Nanami’s favorite cafe to talk about it, and Nanami hated how easily he was persuaded by that.

Nanami just wasn’t expecting Gojo to push the whole “plus one” detail.

Gojo smiled again though and turned back to Nanami. “I’m serious Nanamin. I’m going to have a date, and you should, too. It’s going to be a beautiful, expensive, once-in-a-lifetime type of event. It’s not every day you get invited to stuff like this. Take advantage!”

“Just because it’s on the invitation, doesn’t mean it’s a requirement,” Nanami said.

“It should be, though,” Gojo challenged. “That’s what it basically means.”

Nanami sighed. This was just ridiculous to him. He didn’t even want to go to the wedding in the first place. Going to someone’s wedding he didn’t even know seemed awkward…but apparently that thinking was ridiculous to everyone else. So was the idea of going without a date.

It was a beautiful day, and Nanami was glad they decided to sit outside. Other people had the same idea it seemed, and there were several people seated outside while enjoying their coffee and small breakfasts. The atmosphere of this place made Nanami feel calm, which was why it was his favorite.

While looking around the area, something caught his eye coming out of the door to the inside of the cafe. A familiar face he saw every morning before work was carrying a latte and a pastry of some kind.

“Who’s that?”

Nanami turned, surprised by Gojo’s voice. “Huh?”

Gojo wore a smirk. “Who’s that you’re staring at?”

Nanami turned back to watch you again as you carried the coffee and food to a customer sitting outside. You smiled delightfully at them and turned to walk back inside.

“Oh, uh,” Nanami mumbled. “She works here. She’s the barista in the mornings when I come before work.”

Gojo’s smirk grew and he nodded slowly. “Do you always stare at her like that?”

Nanami rolled his eyes. “Gojo quit it.”

“She’s beautiful—“

Nanami shot a fierce glare.

Gojo barked out a laugh and held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, I get it.”

It was strange seeing you here on Saturday mornings, because to Nanami’s knowledge, you only worked during the week. Not that he was complaining. He rather enjoyed seeing you every morning. When he first started making visiting the cafe a habit before he went to work, you were nice and made his coffee perfectly. You couldn’t have been much younger than him either, maybe by a couple years. But after some time, he had gotten to know you better, and you started making conversation with him. Nanami found himself looking forward to mornings, and you always greeted him with a smile.

Just then, both he and Gojo turned when they registered someone approaching the table. It was you, wearing a bright smile on your face.

Nanami took notice of the several artsy pins that decorated your apron, a detail that he didn’t get to notice because you were always behind a counter. You also wore a tank top today rather than a t-shirt like usual.

“Well, well, well,” you smiled. “Mr. Nanami, what are you doing here on a Saturday morning?”

Nanami couldn’t help but smile slightly himself. “Just enjoying the morning.”

You turned to Gojo, held out your hand, and introduced yourself. “I’m one of the baristas here during the week.”

“Gojo. Nice to meet you,” Gojo looked you over with a smug smile. Nanami didn’t like that.

“I just had to come back out here because I thought that was you I saw,” you turned back to Nanami, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Not used to seeing my most loyal customer out here!”

“I didn’t see you inside,” Nanami observed. “I thought you didn’t work on the weekends.”

You sighed, removing your hand from him and running a hand over your hair. “Yeah, I usually don’t. I had to come in last minute because we had a staff shortage. I’m not even a barista today. I’m serving.”

Nanami nodded. “Saturday mornings are probably busy here.”

Chuckling, you smiled. “Yeah, tell me about it. I don’t mind coming in, but it’s basically nonstop until lunchtime is over.”

As Nanami chatted with you, he couldn’t help but notice that the bright sunlight looked good on you.

“I’ve never sat outside before,” Nanami continued.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You beamed. “I love it out here. Helps that the weather is nice today.”

You sighed again with a smile. “Well, I better get going. Nice to see you, Mr. Nanami, Mr. Gojo.”

Nanami nodded. “Nice to see you, too.”

You turned to leave, then looked over your shoulder. “See you Monday!”

Nanami felt a chuckle escape him, and he held up a hand to wave. Nanami watched you head back inside, and he picked his coffee back up, bringing it to his lips.

He paused when he felt Gojo staring at him incredulously.

“What?” Nanami raised an eyebrow.

Gojo scoffed. “What do you mean what? What the hell was that all about?”

Nanami furrowed his eyebrows and put down his coffee. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Another barking laugh came from Gojo. “You’ve gotta be kidding me, man. I just witnessed you willingly hold a pleasant conversation with someone while smiling. You aren’t even that friendly to our clients.”

Nanami immediately shook his head. “Gojo, you’re thinking too hard about it.”

Gojo’s jaw dropped dramatically. “Nanamin. Oh my god, you are too much. Seriously.”

Nanami didn’t respond. Gojo tended to exaggerate situations and create things that weren’t really there. You were just the friendly barista he saw every morning before work, nothing more.

Nanami’s eye was drawn to the door of the cafe again where you were carrying another drink, making your way to a table for two. He didn’t even notice that he was watching you. The couple said something to you that made you laugh, and you responded with a cheery, lovely voice. You definitely brought life to the cafe with your easy-going personality.

Nanami also didn’t even notice Gojo watching him with a mischievous smile.

“You should ask her,” Gojo interrupted Nanami’s staring.

This definitely broke Nanami’s focus. “What?”

Gojo sat up from his slouch and leaned closer to Nanami. “Ask her. To the wedding.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nanami mumbled. The idea itself was just not plausible.

“So you’re telling me you don’t think she’s beautiful?” Gojo pressed further, now whispering harshly.

Nanami just stared Gojo down, but Gojo wasn’t budging. His closest friend wasn’t normally so stubborn. Well, as stubborn as this.

Nanami sighed. “She is beautiful.”

More beautiful than I’d like to admit to Gojo right now.

“See?” Gojo snickered. “And she’s charming, easy-going. Perfect for you.”

Nanami clenched his jaw. Because Gojo was right. You were beautiful, easy-going, had a lovely charm about you that Nanami couldn’t ignore even if he tried. He knew because for the first several months he visited the cafe, he didn’t speak much to you even if you tried to spark a small conversation. But you eventually broke him down with your smile and strange jokes. And you seemed to anticipate his arrival every morning as well. One time when he had been out sick for a day, he came back the next day and you reacted like a mother when her child hadn’t come home for curfew on time. You gave him the coffee for free that day.

Nanami sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Good fucking grief. Gojo was right.

Gojo chuckled to himself as he watched Nanami slowly break down. “She would make a wonderful date, I bet. Plus, she seems to have taken a liking to you, too.”

“She would never agree,” Nanami replied with a tense tone. In reality, Nanami was thinking why would you agree? He was just some guy that got coffee every morning. There were probably several other people that frequented this place every morning. He wasn’t special.

“You don’t know that,” Gojo continued to push. “And what’s the worst thing that could happen? She says no?”

“Getting coffee each morning would become a lot more awkward if she did,” Nanami cringed.

Gojo rested his chin on his hand. “So what? I thought she was just a barista.”

“I never said that,” Nanami jumped to respond. “She’s not just a barista.”

“Hmm,” Gojo’s face twisted into a look of victory. “So she’s not just a barista to you, you think she’s beautiful, and you like to talk to her. Tell me again what’s so ridiculous about asking her to the wedding?”

Nanami was wondering why he had ever befriended Gojo in the first place.

Gojo was also right.

Nanami had no answer for him. So he didn’t say anything, but Gojo always understood Nanami whether he spoke or not.

Gojo leaned back in his seat with crossed arms. “Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky—“

“Don’t push it.”

“Right. Sorry.”

———

It was Monday morning, and Nanami was on his way to work. But he had one stop to make before he went there, and his palms on the steering wheel were getting quite clammy as his nervousness grew.

Somehow, Gojo had actually convinced Nanami to do it. Nanami was about to go get his morning coffee from you and he was going to ask you to be his date to a wedding. Nanami had no idea why, but he supposed there must have been a part of him that really wanted to. A much bigger part was screaming at him that this was a terrible idea, but Nanami didn’t want to think about how it probably had to do with some fear of your possible rejection.

Before he knew it, Nanami was parking on the street near the cafe and trying to calm his thoughts. He decided to leave his suit coat in the car because it was a warm morning, and he got out of the car.

When he opened the door to the cafe, the little bell rang, and there were two people already waiting for their to-go drinks. Some people were sitting at the tables. He made his way up to the register, and he noticed no one was there.

“Just a second, Mr. Nanami!”

Ah. You were here.

He saw your hand waving over the tall coffee machines on the other side of the register. He threw up a hand in understanding, though you probably didn’t see. You were probably busy making other people their drinks.

It gave him time to think through his approach of asking you to the wedding.

Like Gojo said, the worst that could happen was you say no. Except that didn’t make Nanami feel much better, because watching your normally cheery, kind face twist into something like offense or even disgust was just not something Nanami wanted to experience. Ever.

Too soon, Nanami saw you walking to the register, dusting your hands off together and looking at him with a bright grin.

“Good morning, Mr. Nanami,” you sing-songed out in a sigh. “Sorry about that. We’re short-staffed again, so it’s just me for right now.”

You started tapping the screen. “The usual?”

Nanami forgot his nervousness watching you already putting in his order before he said anything, and he started pulling his wallet out of his pocket. “You aren’t going to let me order?”

You paused your tapping and raised an eyebrow at him, leaning over the table. “So you’re telling me you’re getting something different today?”

Nanami fought down a smirk and held out his card. “I didn’t say that.”

You laughed, shaking your head and continuing to tap the screen. He thought he might've caught a bashful smile, but then you grabbed his card from him. “Mr. Nanami giving me a hard time? How shocking.”

You swiped his card and handed it back to him with a smile. “I’ll be quick.”

“I’m not in a hurry,” he said as you walked away. Before putting his wallet away, he shoved a twenty in the tip jar.

Nanami made his way over to the other side of the counter to wait for his drink. No one else had come in, and he hoped it would stay that way so he could ask you his question and not hold you too long. It sounded like you were going to have a busy day.

Just then, another employee walked in from the back. They greeted you, and you greeted back, saying something about saving your life. They laughed and went to stand at the register.

He saw you peek out from behind the counter and then smiled. “Here you go, Mr. Nanami!”

Nanami grabbed the coffee from where it sat on the tall counter. You scooted over to where the counter wouldn’t hide your face, and you leaned on your arms. Nanami followed you. You two usually chatted for a few seconds anyway.

“You should come on Saturdays more often,” you said. “The cafe is much more lively on the weekends.”

Nanami nodded. “It was nice. I enjoyed sitting outside.”

“Sometimes I even sit outside,” you replied. “When I’m not working. It just has such a lovely view of the city.”

Nanami hummed, feeling his palms start to sweat as he held his cup. Now was the time.

He started with your name, and then cleared his throat. “I would like to ask you something.”

You just smiled like always. “Of course.”

Nanami suddenly felt bad, because you were probably not expecting what was about to happen, but it was too late.

He cleared his throat again and put his free hand in his pocket. “I’ve been invited to a wedding by someone I work with, and I am allowed a plus one. I was wondering if you would like to join me.”

Nanami held his breath as he watched your eyes widen. Everything was suddenly crashing down and he was expecting the worst when—

“Are you asking me to be your date to a wedding?” You asked with a hint of disbelief.

Nanami swallowed. “Yes.”

Your widened eyes relaxed and your mouth shaped into a soft smile. “What time do you get off work?”

Nanami stared blankly. “Five o’clock.”

“Perfect,” your eyes twinkled with your smile. “Stop by after work and I’ll be finishing up my shift. We can talk more then. Okay?”

You leaned off the counter and put your hands in your apron pockets, still grinning at him.

“Is that a yes then?” Nanami blurted. And then he immediately regretted it.

Idiot. You’re an idiot.

You chuckled. “We’ll see after you come to pick me up for our first official date tonight. Sound good?”

Nanami blinked, heart beating in his ears. “Alright.”

“See you then, Mr. Nanami,” you winked.

“See you,” he replied. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Of course!” You beamed and then turned back to make a drink for a customer that just walked in.

Nanami walked out of the coffee shop feeling extremely relieved and somehow more stressed at the same time.

He had a date after work.

When Nanami arrived to the office to tell Gojo what happened, Gojo laughed so hard he had tears running down his face and didn’t stop laughing for a hell of a long time.

Part Two->

---

please let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list for this story!! <3

#nanami x reader #nanami fanfiction #nanami kento #nanami fluff #jjk x reader #my work

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1kook · 3 years

Text

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates.

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens.

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class.

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him.

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all.

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly.

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months.

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got.

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career.

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course.

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.”

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you.

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen.

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.)

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side.

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly.

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil.

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester.

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness.

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you.

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face.

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!”

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things.

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone.

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought.

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you.

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news.

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward.

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason.

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away.

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom.

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same.

Apparently not.

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed.

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile.

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.”

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck.

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot.

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi.

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.”

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face.

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments.

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.”

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.”

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character.

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester.

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right.

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile. He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.”

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?”

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh.

This man was dangerous for your heart.

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.”

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you.

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well.

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook.

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk♡#mine

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genshin-obsessed · 3 years

Note

May I request something for Xiao and Xingqiu (separately) where someone frames the fem!reader beachside they’re jealous of their relationship with Xiao/Xingqiu and then everyone turns on the reader? Maybe they comfort her and prove her innocence? Perhaps a random girl starts a fight with the reader and then claims she attacked them out of nowhere? Sorry if this doesn’t make sense, it’s my first time requesting >.<, have a lovely day/night and early Merry Christmas! -🏌️‍♀️Anon

You can see how late I am with this one.

Ooh the drama I LOVE IT >:) I hope you like it💖 I’m kinda proud of this one.

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

You often kept to yourself, not really getting into people’s business. You were pretty introverted and it was something Xiao loved about you. The Adeptus only had eyes for you, but that didn’t mean someone didn’t have eyes for him.

There was a girl who used to spend quite a bit of time at Wangshu Inn and she’d met Xiao multiple times. She had fallen so in love that when she saw you come into the picture, her jealousy raged.

She had set up this entire elaborate plan to make it look like you’d hurt her. She went as far as to admit to everyone that she did in fact have a crush on Xiao and that you had gotten angry. She claimed you’d hired some men to beat her up in an effort to teach her a lesson. The problem was, none of it was true. Not one bit.

Everyone quickly sided with her, since she’d somehow managed to get real bruises to prove it further. You swore up and down you had nothing to do with all of this, but no one believed you.

Except Xiao.

He immediately believed you without needing to be convinced. He didn’t even ask if you had done it, you were the one who brought it up. Xiao knew you. He knew you weren’t the type of person to do something like that.

Even if the entire world turned against you, he never would. He would fight every single person to defend you.

You met Xingqiu at the library. You two often read together and one thing led to another and you were dating.

You never engaged in gossip, since it wasn’t your cup of tea. It was entertaining to hear though. However, one day you heard something you’d never wanted to hear.

Gossip about you. Serious gossip.

There was a young woman who had known Xingqiu for a while. She worked at the bookstore where Xingqiu often visited. Overtime, they became good friends and her feelings grew. She had even confessed to him, but he’d turned her down saying he was already in a relationship. That woman had found out it was that Xingqiu was dating and she wasn’t happy.

So she made up lies about you and so many of them. The main two were that you KNEW she liked Xingqiu and that because you and her had an argument in the past, this was your revenge. The second rumor was that you felt nothing for Xingqiu and you just wanted to mess around with him.

Xingqiu heard this on his own but he only laughed it off. He knew you, he knew you would never do something like that. You devoted yourself to the one you were with, no matter what. And if you happened to lose feelings, you were upfront and honest about it. Yes, you would get scared, who wouldn’t, but you would never lead anyone on.

You immediately found him and swore up and down the rumor wasn’t true. He only laughed and waved it off, claiming he knew the truth.

He knows you’re only devoted to him and that if for some reason you ever lost feelings, you would never lead him on in an effort to “spare his feelings”.

Many people ridiculed you and lots of people were on that woman’s side. But it didn’t matter, because Xingqiu was always on your side.

Someone did once ask him, “what if (y/n)’s lying? What if they’ve been lying since the first day and you’re just too infatuated to see it?”

“That’s not possible. My (y/n) would never do something like that, but hypothetically if you were right… then I would drown in my own delusion. Because no matter what, I still love them. I’ll follow them anywhere.”

“Even to your own grave?”

“Even to my own grave.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin xiao x reader #xiao x reader #xiao headcanons #xingqiu headcanons #genshin xingqiu x reader #xingqiu x reader #xiao imagines #xingqiu imagine

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writinginthedarkwood · 3 years

Text

Werewolf! Kirishimia Eijiro: A New Meaning to Golden Retriever Boyfriend.

Thank you so dearly for this request, it was so much fun to write. Prompt #16 “Not this again.” For the fictober event. If you have a request, please send me an ask I would love to write it.

No warnings, fluffy and cute.

"You've got to be kidding me, not this again." You looked down at your phone, a long paragraph typed up from your boyfriend Eijiro in the same format as last month. An excuse, an apology, canceling tonight's plans, and about two more apologies. Tonight he's claiming stomach issues, but you know the truth. You sigh and check your bank account. If he would just tell the truth you could tell him that it wouldn't be a problem for you to pay for the movie tickets tonight! He makes good money, he must really spend over his budget. He's so chivalrous and sweet, it might insult him to try and pay for things sometimes. You don't mind, if only he'd just open up.

You decide that enough is enough, you're going over there and you're going to put an end to the lying! He's going to let you pay for the date if you have to drag him out by his ears. You throw on the outfit you had planned for your date, cleaned up your hair and head down the street into the night air. Eijiro's house is just outside of city lines in the suburbs. He has a nice end lot with a large field behind it. You're so jealous of his view. You hop on the bus and ride with head phones on, listening to a playlist he made you. The bus can be a little scary at night, but nobody is on here except for you. It's kind of peaceful just listening to music and staring at the full moon. It's large and round face is staring down at you like a caring grandmother.

Another text pops up.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry I disappointed you. I have to get some sleep, I love you baby." You rolled your eyes. It's just past 10pm! You're not letting him sit and sulk in the dark alone all night. You resisted the urge to throw your phone into your bag in frustration. He is such a wonderful boyfriend 99% of the time, but he always seems like he's hiding a part of himself. What is it? A bad childhood? A gambling addiction? Is he secretly apart of the mafia??? The bus halted to a stop and left you outside of his neighborhood, you stomped all the way down the sidewalk to the end of the line of houses and stared at your boyfriends place. The porch light is off, but the lights are on inside. You know where he keeps the hidden spare key and jam it into the lock. You almost kick the door down as you shout for your boyfriend.

He was sitting on the couch, tying his shoe laces. He's putting on hiking boots this late? "Hey! You're awake!" You slam the door behind you and scold your red headed sweet heart. "Babe what are you doing here? It's almost midnight!" His voice is shaking. He nervously looks at the clock on the wall and stands up. "You have to go baby, I'm really embarrassed! My stomach is-" "Stop lying! Your stomach is fine!" You want to raise your voice and yell, but his giant puppy dog eyes are so cute. You jam a finger into his chest and scrunch up your mouth, doing your best to look irritated. "I knew I would get here and see you're not hunched over a puke bucket!" He put both hands on your shoulders and gently rubbed up and down on your arms. He's such a large man, he's practically a wall he's so solid. Yet he always has the sweetest touches, making sure to be so gentle with you. His callused finger tips brushed against your skin and gave you goosebumps.

It took every ounce of restraint in you not to fall right into his arms. "I'm sorry honey, but you really can't stay here tonight. I need you to head back home." He said hardly above a whisper. He kissed your forehead and you shoved his chest with all of your might. He didn't budge, but understood you wanted him away from you so he stepped back. "Oh I'm sorry, is your booty call on the way over and I'm interrupting?" You felt like someone had stabbed you right in the heart. It couldn’t be true, he has never showed any signs of being disloyal. You’re just tired and confused.

Eijiro looked panicked. "Oh god of course not! No, no its not like that I swear!" He swallowed you in his arms pushing your cheek against his pecks and kissing all over the top of your head. "There is nobody other than you, I could never even think of betraying you, you're my soul mate." He said between kisses. You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled in. His warmth overwhelming. "Well then what is it...?" You whined a bit, it's getting later and you want to just fall asleep in his arms. "Are you going to turn into a wolf at midnight?" You chuckled. His hand stopped running through your hair and he stiffened completely. You look up at him puzzled, he's staring down at you with a look of panic. "That's crazy why would you even say that?" He says all too seriously. You nervously laugh. "What's wrong? I was just joking. It's not like I really believe you're about to start howling at the full moon." Eijiro stared off into space, like his brain was loading and he couldn't think of what to say. "Right...?" You cocked an eyebrow at him. "It might be a little bit like that." He scratched his head.

You two sat in the quiet for a little bit. Every time he tried to elaborate he ended up getting caught up in his own words. You two sat awkwardly in his living room until its about 5 minutes til midnight. "I- I'm going to go to the bathroom." He quickly dismissed himself, running to his bedroom and shutting the door. You followed quickly after him. Is he insane? Does he really expect you to just sit out here while he hides pretending to shape shift to get out of movie night? He's obviously having a difficult time, maybe his money troubles make him feel emasculated? You softly tap on his bedroom door and it slips open. The bathroom door is closed shut with the light peaking out under the crack. You walk past his bed and dressers and hear weird scuttling sounds the closer you get. You knock again. "Hey honey, why don't you come out so we can talk about this? It's okay if you didn't want to go out because of money..." You leaned against the door. "It doesn't make you less of a man to let me pay sometimes." He's so wonderful, you don't think there could be any other reason why he can be so flakey.

The sound of shampoo bottles and shaving cream canisters falling to the ground startle you. "Babe are you okay?" You turn the door nob. The door flings open, a large shape tackles you, knocking you to the ground. You let out a large wheeze, the wind escaping your lungs. "What the fu-" Your face was assaulted with a large flat tongue, licking all over you. Slobber flew across the room as a giant red dog panted and whimpered as it gave you kisses. "You're a dog! Oh my god you're a dog!" You pushed your monstrous boyfriend off of you and took a good look at him. He's huge, and even a little scary looking. His fur is bright crimson and his eyes are a daring shade of yellow. But he sat there, panting like a normal dog. You waved in front of his face. "Are you in there babe?" The dog playfully nipped at your finger, trying to pull your hand into his mouth. "Hey! No bites!" You retracted your hand and held it close to your chest. His fangs are giant.

The wolf man got down low to the ground in the stance you've seen puppies do right before they-

He takes off, zooming across the floor and into the living room at full speed. Pictures that lined the hallway crash to the ground. You rush to your feet and chase after him. "Wait!! Down boy! Down!!" You shout. He's already on the couch, gripping a throw pillow between his powerful jaws and shaking it. Cotton stuffing flies across the room, coating the floor. "No! Bad Eijiro! Bad doggy!" You try to wrestle the pillow away from him and fail. He topples over you, knocking you back down onto the floor and taking off across the room again, this time to the kitchen. You tenderly rub your arm, you landed on it weird and it's a little sore. Another crashing sound prompts you to get up onto your feet and run after him. The trash can is toppled over on its side, trash strewn across the floor. His snout was pushing around the garbage, looking for something to swallow. "Are you kidding me? What is with you?" You grab the wolf by the scruff of his neck, and pull him to the other side of the room away from the trash. "You sit!" Eijiro whines and sits down, looking up at you with the saddest eyes. "Oh don't look at me like that. This is not what I thought a werewolf would be like." Eijiro's large head pushed against you, rubbing his face all over your stomach as you pet his head. "You just need to burn some of this energy off."

You can't help but love the silly thing. He is still your boyfriend, even if he is a little different than usual right now. He followed you down the hall, staying right by your side. He takes up most of the space, his large frame almost tipping you off balance with small bumps into your hip. You dug through a pile in his hall closet until you found an old baseball and plastic toy bat. Wow, he really needs to clean up his closet, you think to yourself. "Okay babe, let's go-" He looked up at you with all of the love in the world, hanging on your every word. You crack into a smile. "Let's go outside and play you big goof.

"The two of you trampled through the tall grass behind Eijiro's house, he seemed to use little to no effort at all. His massive paws stomping down the weeds like it's nothing. You decided you were far enough away from the neighbors and took a strong stance. You haven't hit a ball in ages, but this plastic bat is wide and should make it a little easier on you. The baseball flew high into the air, you focused and swung the bat, smacking the ball across the field. Your wolf ran, faster than any animal you had ever seen after the small object, passing it and having to loop around with a terrifying pin point turn. He grabbed the ball off of the ground so quick you barely saw the motion, and in a flash he was back at your feet. You could do nothing but shake your head and laugh. "Are you kidding me? You're amazing!" Eijiro looked pleased, so you scratched his neck fluff.

"Alright let's see if I can hit it a little farther."

Again, and again, and again he chased the ball across the field and back happily dropping the ball at your feet. He only made you wrestle for it once, he could probably keep the ball away from you forever with those intense muscles, but that's not as fun for him. Seeing how pleased you looked when he brought it back was filling the beast with all the pride in the world.

Eventually your arm got tired, and he seemed to have about run out of energy too. He laid down in the field and looked up at the moon. You laid your head on his stomach, the rhythm of his breathing so comforting. You just talked to him, venting about life and how weird things are in the city now. You found yourself thinking about how a simple bus ride was starting to feel too far away from him at this point. "I know you don't really understand me right now, but I really love you. I know we've said it before, but I love you. I think you're my forever person." He was laying on his paws, looking up at the starry sky. "I know you felt like you had to hide this from me, but it doesn't scare me, or weird me out." You talk quietly and close your eyes, snuggling deeper into his fur. "If I have to come throw a ball for you once a month, I'll do it. I've got friends that deal with way worse with their boyfriends." You smirked, thinking you're pretty funny. That'll make Eijiro laugh in the morning, you'll save that for later.

The rising sun burned your eyelids, scaring you awake. You hadn't meant to stay out here for the rest of the night, but it was so late and he was so comfortable. He's much more familiar to you now, he slept peacefully as you rested on his chest. He looks worn out, but the two of you can't stay out there forever. You gently tap his face. He popped one eye open and looked around. "Oh man!" He gasped and looked down at his hands and feet. "I'm so stupid! You could get sick staying outside all night!" He put a hand on your face and cupped your chin. "Are you alright my love?" He asked with the soft voice only you get to hear. "Yeah I'm fine. How are you feeling?" "I feel fine. I'll be a little more hungry today, but it's no big deal." He looked down at the ground with a sheepish smile. "Thanks for staying with me all night." "Aw come on, it's no big deal. You're... a good boy." You teased while ruffling his hair.

"Hey!"

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