#When he accepts that it’s not just boredom

[hearts4werka]

My eyes slowly flutter open while the sunlight pools into my and Matthew's shared bedroom through the curtains over the windows as the morning hours strike, glancing at my current surroundings I see the form of sleeping Matthew next to me with his tattoed arm softly draped over my waist. I can't help but stare at his adorable sleeping face for a few minutes, pbserving and taking in his facial features shadowed by the sunlight occupying the space around us in the moment.

Turning my head to lay flat against the soft pillow sitting currently beneath my head, I stare at the ceiling and come up with an idea to prepare breakfast and since Nick and Chris will be arriving later today to visit before they both have to attend to some meetings regarding their brands, I havent been told much yet but hope to get slightly more educated when they do arrive.

I pull the duvet away from my body, ready to exit the bed and start my day but Matthew’s hand that was previously laying down on my waist tightens its grip and subconsciously pulls me closer into his chest, holding me captive as he slowly stirs awake himself and buries his face into my hair as I hear him mumble something into them but I can’t quite make out the words.

“What was that, sleepyhead?” I ask softly, taking my eyes away from the ceiling and now on him, noticing him slowly coming back to consciousness and waking up from his slumber.

“…five more minutes” He repeats more clearly for me to understand him this time in a slight whine, his face still buried in my hair as I notice him inhaling the scent of them in that moment, still remaining half asleep and not fully awake yet.

When the words ‘five more minutes’ in that whiny tone from sleepy Matthew, knowing very well that in his state right now im not getting far with this conversation so I just chuckle under my breath at how clingy he's being and especially in the morning. Accepting my faith I place a soft kiss on his forehead and snuggle further into his chest, giving into his wishes.

“Only five more minutes, after that I gotta get up. Okay?” I clarified, glancing over at him to make sure he understands me but the only answer I receive is a groan of approval. Nodding his head against the top of my head as he softly pulls me impossibly closer into his chest as he can.

“I love you.” I whisper against his chest as I feel a smile growing on his face thats cuddled up into my hair, our bodies melting together as heat radiates off them and transfers them to the other persons skin, making it slightly tingle.

“Love you too.” He muttered as we continued to cuddle up against each other, suddenly I feel a hand starting to tickle me in ticklish places on my body. Out of instinct my body jerks away from the hand, while Matthew giggles under his breath and continuing his tickle assault.

The sudden tickles make me burst out in laughter as I return them, poking at his chest and starting to tickle him as well. Both of us end up as two laughing messes on the bed after only a few minutes passing by, I adore mornings like these with Matthew laughing next to me.

@hearts4werka

authors note: just a random blurb I wrote today in class out of boredom and while writing the drug dealer Chris fic and I might make it like three parts or two bc I’m writing their meeting rn and I don’t want it to be very long since the first part is already longer that I thought it would be so just say if y’all want it to be two parts of nah, luv y’all so much

Guestlist!

| @sturnioloblues - @sturnsxplr-25 - @deffonotjae - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @klaus223492 - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot |

[enhasparadise]

TOKYO ON EDGE. ˒˒ ﹙ niki! ﹚

╰┈⪼ moving to Japan wasn’t really on your plan through the year, but with your specialty being Japanese you had no choice but to accept. arriving in the middle of the year you found it strangely easy enough to integrate into your well-known class but over the days everything seemed to become boring and everything looked the same, the only thing that seemed to interest you was discovering the streets of Japan and the cultural differences with your native country. but, what you hadn't imagined was coming face to face with a car race, where one of the participants was one of your classmates, Nishimura Niki.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ street racer!niki x student!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 older brother!jay, best friend!sunoo, best friend!haerin, bully!woonhak and heeseung.

genre﹙💬﹚⸝⸝⸝ serie, street racing au, enemies to lovers, kind of bully!niki, slow burn.

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ harsh talking, mention of violence and bullying, mention of drinking and smoking, cursing, mention of mental health, niki’s really dumb sometimes.

words count ‎⸝⸝⸝ 2681 words

taglist ‎ ⸝⸝⸝ @r1kification @cherryrikis @moonpri @who-tf-soddhi @heeswif3y @yangjungwonnie comment to be added to the taglist !!

rain’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ screaming right now because I really love this chapter and how it’s start, also screaming because of the ending of this chapter since of what niki said. yes I’m fangirling over my own story, but anyways I really hope that you like how the story start and all that happened during this chapter.

all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

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001. what kind of starter pack is this ?

You didn't know if it was simply the universe that was playing with you, or fate that had decided that, from one day to the next, after discovering your new school, you would meet this boy who spent his days talking to you. get on the nerves.

The most annoying part of the situation wasn't even the boy himself, but no matter where you were you heard each of the girls whispering his name as if he was a real living god.

Nishimura Niki.

No matter when you heard his name, you found yourself getting annoyed. Yet he hadn't done anything wrong, he was simply everything you despised deep down. That satisfied look and that smirk that almost never left his lips no matter where he was.

Since you had accidentally crossed his path, and his coffee had accidentally spilled on his uniform, he had spent the rest of his time ensuring that your days at school were nothing more than simple moments of torture or complete boredom, except that, even without his presence you were already annoyed and angry enough so knowing that he could arrive at any time made you completely mad with rage.

“y/n are you even listening to me?” Sunoo ended up saying.

“sorry Sunoo, I’m not really focused, it’s just.. all of this annoys me” you ended up responding as a sigh left your lips.

"y/n we'll never move forward with the presentation if you're not focused, and spending your time thinking about Niki won't help us."

“I don’t think about him!” you replied, offended that your best friend would think that before looking around you. "why does this idiot have to be so popular.. he's not even that amazing.."

Sunoo couldn't help but look at you without understanding what could be going on in your head. You now spent most of your days complaining about one of your classmates that you hated while, during your first days here, you both spent your days laughing and talking about topics that you are really interested.

Now it was almost like you spent your days complaining about Nishimura Niki and saying how much you hated him.

Simply, while you were both in the library working on your history paper which was due the next day, your best friend was ready to give up on everything because you weren't even concentrating while on your side you were ready to hit yourself with one of the books on the table if you once again came to wait for this name which was driving you completely crazy.

So, after taking a deep breath to focus again on the work you had to do, you turned back to Sunoo who was completely absorbed in reading his lips.

"And why shouldn't we be allowed to watch on the internet? Sunoo it would go ten times faster and you know it just as well as I do"

"Because, I know you and you'll end up spending the rest of the afternoon glued to your phone and I'll find myself having to do all the work on my own.." placing one of the books right in front of you, he showed you a passage that he found interesting, "I think we can also add that with everything we have just found, it will make a link with the other subjects that we must address later.." he replied wanting to get you back to work.

And it didn't take another sentence for your attention to return to the book, reading what he had told you.

Except that, at the same time, some girls who were passing behind you found themselves whispering a bunch of things that you hadn't heard until one of them said Niki's first name and, in a few moments, Only seconds later you found yourself looking around you.

The library was generally not a very busy place during school days, so obviously seeing more and more girls present was not particularly a good thing. Especially if it had anything to do with that student you hated so much.

But then, trying to concentrate on your work again so that your best friend wouldn't end up forcing you to finish everything by yourself, you sighed, realizing that you were possibly thinking too much simply because you were already quite agitated with what had happened that morning.

"Can we take a break Sunoo? I really can't concentrate it's horrible.." a sigh left your lips as you put your pen on the table and turned your head towards your best friend.

"If you want.." he started before taking his phone out of his pocket and realizing what time it was, "shit.. I have to go anyway.. Sunghoon is waiting for me so that We're going to join the others for our dance class."

Then, as soon as he finished his sentence, he closed the book in front of him, before getting up. "We'll finish this tonight, I'll call you as soon as I have time, and answer this time because otherwise we'll have more time to finish everything."

“Okay Sunoo.. go ahead I’ll take care of putting everything away” you replied before seeing him walk away and the last thing you saw was his blond hair as he closed the library door .

A sigh left your lips, your eyes closing for only a few seconds but opening them again you noticed Haerin in front of you then almost inevitably a smile appeared on your lips.

"Did he finally let you go? I thought I wouldn't be able to come see you all afternoon if he stayed with you.." she said directly with a slight laugh.

"Just assume that you have feelings for him and it will be a lot easier for both of you.." you had barely finished your sentence when you noticed your best friend's expression, and almost inevitably you started to to laugh. “Will you help me clean up? We can go to Starbucks afterwards if you want, it’s been a while since I’ve been there and I really want to go together.”

A smile appeared on your best friend's lips as she heard the word Starbucks and she immediately stood up while carrying several books in her hands to go straight to put them away.

Noticing how she reacted, a laugh left your lips once again and, taking the other part of the books, you yourself went through the shelves of the library to find the shelves where all the books came from.

Ten minutes later you finally left the library with Haerin following you. Except that, as soon as you left the library, your smile faded simply because you noticed a group of girls gathered in the same place, and you knew perfectly well what that meant. Niki was not far away.

“Oh my god do you think Niki is anywhere near?” Haerin asked, and as soon as her sentence was spoken, you remembered that she too, although she had feelings for your best friend, had a strange admiration with Nishimura Niki and you couldn't understand that.

“Please don’t say his name, it annoys me..” you replied as you placed your bag on your shoulder and began to walk to the end of the corridor to leave the room. 'establishment.

In spite of yourself, your gaze landed on this crowd of girls who looked like real kids, and you directly noticed Niki through the whole crowd. He wasn't doing anything in particular, he was just on his phone chatting with some boys in your class, and of course you wondered almost immediately what the girls saw in him. It was very obvious that he had absolutely nothing to do with them and that he simply preferred to ignore them, regardless of what she might say to him.

A sigh left your lips and you wanted to continue walking, but Haerin stopped you by grabbing your arm to make sure you didn't leave without her.

“Believe me, he’s an idiot, he doesn’t deserve your attention Haerin..” you told her, noticing that she reacted the same way as all the girls around him.

And almost as if he had heard what you had just said, Niki raised his head to look at you, and a few seconds later he put his phone away to walk towards you. What exactly was he looking for?

You didn't know him, but with everything you had heard you knew perfectly well that Niki didn't care at all about girls' feelings or just girls in general. Just you, he loved making your days difficult just by being near you. And unfortunately for you, today was likely to be even more complicated.

Haerin, noticing that he was approaching the two of you, couldn't help but laugh in the silliest way, but at no time did Niki's gaze fall on her, he was focused on you. And when he was at your side, he pushed Haerin to the side just to place his arm around your shoulder, which directly made you want to vomit and you almost immediately moved away from him.

“Don’t touch me, I don’t want a boy like you to touch me.”

“Oh come on y/n.. don’t you want to have fun with me? I know you like me deep down”

"Ew.. do you want me to vomit on your uniform or something? Considering the badboy starter pack that you are, I'm quite happy to hate you Niki.." you responded directly before releasing his arm from your shoulder and move away from him, visibly disgusted with how he was acting.

“A badboy starter pack? Can you give me a quick definition of what you mean by that?” He asked you and a laugh left your lips directly.

“I think you understand perfectly what I mean Niki, you’re stupid but not so stupid that you don’t understand..”

“Hey, he’s not stupid, shut up!” Shouted a girl who was around you, before other girls started saying any type of sentence to defend Niki. Except that no matter what she said, your view of Niki wasn't going to change, it was never going to change since Niki was just a miserable idiot.

"They're not wrong, I'm not stupid.." Niki defended himself as this most annoying smile appeared on her lips, and a sigh of annoyance left your lips at the same time.

"Oh of course niki.. you're the most annoying idiot I know in school.." you replied knowing that he wasn't going to leave you alone no matter what you said to him. "And to answer your question, they're the kind of bad boy starter pack, the ones who are really stupid, who react like real assholes and who of course don't mind hurting the girls who are interested in them simply to laugh about it behind..”

One of his eyebrows rose at your response before a laugh left his lips, finding what you had just said to him totally hilarious.

“Really y/n, it’s charming what you say about me” he responded so casually because none of your sentences hurt him.

“Oh shut up will you, you're such an annoying idiot, except girls never notice because of..” you looked at his face, a look of disgust appearing on your own face, “this what you look like.." then you ended up turning to all the girls around you, who were either looking at Niki in admiration or looking at you like they wanted to rip your head off for what you were saying about niki, then you came back to look at niki. “Seriously, are you lacking affection for all the girls to be so into you? Because it’s quite pitiful to be honest..”

The girls around you were almost going crazy over what you were saying but none of them seemed to come up to you, simply because Niki was right in front of them and they didn't want to in any way. that Niki sees them being violent.

“Oh but I'm not in need of attention, on the contrary..” Niki ended up responding in a very annoying way, “it's not my fault if the girls at school adore boys like me.. " the same smile was fixed on his face since the beginning of your conversation and it annoyed you greatly. “Too bad you’re not actually one of them.”

Hearing his last sentence you wanted to vomit because it seemed so pitiful and stupid. You just stared at him with a look of disgust on your face, unable to understand why Niki was bothering you like that when he could just be giving this attention to a girl who liked him more than you. . That is to say the only girl who hated him because of his troublemaker behavior and the way he annoyed you.

"Rather die than become one of your groupies who lick your coattails in the hope of getting attention that will never be given to me." you ended up answering, your hand gripping the strap of your bag so much you felt your blood boiling inside of you because he kept adding any sentence to see your reactions that he loved while you answered each time.

“Oh but I give them attention, there are just so many of them that I can't really give each of them attention for a day.”

"Yeah you're just a real idiot who plays with girls that's all"

“That’s what you think y/n”

“You make me want to vomit Niki… it’s surprising that I still haven’t vomited.”

“Oh stop y/n I know deep down you love me..”

"Shut up niki you really make me want to vomit you're so horrible and annoying.. then seeing how you act with girls it confirms that you're just an idiot badboy who has absolutely no interest in girls and who just spend their time breaking her hearts"

“I think the role of bad boy suits me well you know”

“So you confirm the fact that you are a bad boy and that you have the starter pack that I am with”

Niki looked at you blankly, almost as if you had just said the most incomprehensible thing imaginable. And around you you always heard the girls whispering or shouting all kinds of things about you.

“Being a bad boy doesn't give you a starter pack,” Niki ended up answering.

“Ah yes totally Niki, believe me you have a starter pack that fits the badboy label. Do you want me to make you a list?”

A laugh left his lips as he listened to you, before allowing you to continue speaking, knowing what you were going to say to confirm your words.

"So already, with what I've seen since I've been here you don't take authority seriously and you don't care what the teachers tell you, so that proves the first criterion of the bad boy, then in view of your hands you also spend your time fighting so that proves the second criterion." You paused in what you were saying just to look at him intently to notice every detail about him. "With your character and your behavior it's not surprising that you find yourself idolized by girls and then you don't even need.."

"In this case if I'm a badboy, that makes you a goodgirl, well if we stay in the cliché of course.." Niki ended up cutting you off, and as soon as you waited for his sentence you didn't know how you was supposed to get the information.

“And what does that mean Niki?” you ended up asking as your arms crossed over your chest.

“I think just as well as I do that you know perfectly well what that means y/n” he replied and you noticed that smile that annoyed you so much appear on his lips.

Something to which you hadn't responded simply because you knew that, deep down, Niki only did that to annoy you and he knew that it would work so obviously you didn't want to show him that he was right once. moreover.

“Seriously Niki shut up”

“Only if you confirm that you are the cliché of the good girl since I am, as you say, a bad boy with a starter pack to match..”

"Oh but you really are Niki stop lying to yourself.. you know you're just a bad boy playing it.."

“well I’m telling you that you’re a good girl, you just don’t notice it… but I’m going to prove to you that you are one”

[voxiiferous]

Prime Time Reruns

Anyone who’s known Vox for a very long time know there was a change in him, though there’s no clear ability to pinpoint when exactly it changed, though everyone agrees it started sometime in the early 90s. Valentino‘s seen it, Hellaina, even Alastor has seen it in its purest flashes. Velvette never knew him before the boredom set in— the closest she ever saw were its earliest phases.

People who meet him assume he’s going to be the feared and all powerful TV Overlord, like he was in the 60s, 70s, even the 80s. They expect cruelty and a joy in the suffering of Hell— and what they actually get is someone so very tired. Even his periods of self-destructive tendencies have tapered off— the USBs of Exe.stasy have gathered dust, he doesn’t seek Alastor out for a fight in the same way, his relationship with Valentino rings increasingly hollow: empty apologies, empty promises.

And he pretends that it’s all fine— he grins and he shows up on cameras, endorses the new Vogitek product. He’s the media Overlord! He’s got so much money, and everything he could ever want— don’t you? Just pay a small fee and you can have everything. Lean into the brand loyalty and you’ll be rewarded. But the performance has been getting more transparent as he hurtles towards pure and abject burnout. His own smiling face on the billboards stares down at him and he wants to tear it all down some days.

He never stops. He builds and he makes and he broadcasts everything from his spot high in his tower looking down on everything he’s made. But he doesn’t really see it either. He sees the flaws— every artist is their own greatest critic— the breakups that are becoming more frequent, sex has become a routine pastime, every time the ratings drop. And part of the problem is that there’s been nothing new in a large way. The internet was but that was the last big thing that really booked in and about the mid 90s.

It’s a prison of his own making, but he doesn’t know how to fix it either. Part of the problem is his lack of hobbies. He used to like reading, but he hasn’t picked up an actual book in decades. He loved dancing in a way he’s never really loved anything else, and he can count on less than two hands how many times he’s done it since he died. He hasn’t built something like the little trinket she made as a child since he was one.

Those are just things he has control over, not considering the fact he can’t eat or drink, and the inhumanity in that bothers him more than he lets on a lot of the time. He can smell, sort of, and it taunts him. He brings people out to eat because it makes them more easily charmed and pliable when they get free food, and yes, he’ll laugh and he makes jokes about it, but it serves as a reminder to him that he isn’t really alive.

He feels trapped— he’s retreading the same old talking points he’s said a thousand times over. The smile is forced, and nothing is a threat so he can’t focus his attention on keeping everything he’s made. It’s fine, it’s stable, he’s made it so it’ll outlive him if something were to happen.

He’s been waiting for the boredom to pass, boredom does eventually… and it hasn’t, it’s just gotten worse.

[deebris]

From annoying to beloved

Homelander x fem!Reader

Synopsis: The new member of the Seven annoys Captain Patria with their habit of doodling in the corners all the time, but he didn't expect to end up liking it.

During the fourth season, it can be read as both romantic and platonic.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of murder, the reader has the power to control plasma, fluffy.

The reader is also kind of anxious.

Word count: 2.9k

"You gotta be fucking kidding with me." Homelander interrupted abruptly upon hearing snores in the room. "Is Noir sleeping?"

"Mmhmm," Firecracker murmured in agreement, but the masked superhero jolted awake when The Deep kicked his chair.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, guys." Black Noir straightened up, while the Captain shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom what he had just witnessed.

"Ah, what the fuck." The blonde furrowed his brows, eyes darting around the room quickly, then fixing on a specific point when something else caught his attention. He had noticed you earlier with a notebook and pencil, but now you're not writing but drawing. The irritating sound of the graphite scraping against the paper had been bothering him for some time, but he had tried to ignore it, assuming as a newcomer you were taking notes.

He wouldn't lie. Though he found taking notes utterly stupid, he liked to think someone was that focused on what he said. Not that he needed it, just opening his lips and everyone would be watching him. But as if that weren't enough, he finally realized you were dressed in regular civilian clothes.

"Radiance, where's your suit?" He asked slowly, but angrily. "Can't anyone do anything right around here?"

You finally tore your attention from the paper, meeting Homelander gaze directly. It's not that you weren't paying attention—in fact, you were, maybe more than anyone else there. It was easier to absorb things while doodling, a way to calm your nerves. Well, that or rubbing your sweaty fingers together until they hurt.

No one ever understood. Even back in school, your parents used to receive complaints about you drawing during class, no matter how high your grades were or the fact that you were the top student.

This was your first meeting with the Seven, and the last thing you wanted was to give the impression of being careless or not caring about being there. It could be said that one of the best days of your life was yesterday when Vought sent you a notice, letting you know that the greatest superhero of all had personally chosen you to join the team. After so many "retarded" - in his words - he had been forced to accept into the Seven, Homelander saw in you, above all, the opportunity to make up for Firecracker's ridiculous weakness.

When Ashley began talking about your powers, he had no doubt the last spot was yours. It was simply brilliant. Who the hell would have imagined someone would have powers to control a state of matter? You could maneuver fire, generate electrical discharges, disrupt magnetic fields, and damn it, you could split atoms as if slicing butter.

Vought's scientists said they didn't know if it was possible, but you could destroy the damn out of a star one day. Homelander wasn't a science guy, but in one of his moments of boredom, he got curious and did some research. He didn't even know that plasma crap was all that, he thought it was a cell thing or whatever.

He always thought someone with a power as peculiar as yours, and at your age, would be arrogant or just plain dumb. But you were actually the complete opposite. You didn't speak unnecessarily, and while you seemed very aware of your own actions, you had no clue how powerful you were, or perhaps ignored that fact. The blonde thought you were an idiot for it, but he appreciated the inferiority you submitted to, especially in relation to himself.

"I don't have one, sir," you replied to his question, feeling small with everyone looking.

"What the hell?" He continued, focusing on you with incredulous voice, he couldn't believe it. How did someone end up here without even having a superhero suit?

The truth was, you had never been part of any team before, nor had you received any sponsorship during your life, or even attended Godolkin University. The only thing you had were your powers, which were indeed impressive. You never chased after any position, nor were you ever obsessed with being a famous superheroine, but lately you thought it would be a good adventure to radicalize your life. That's when you applied to join the Seven.

"How do you have a name and not have a fucking suit?" He asked, boiling with anger, fists clenching tightly behind his back.

"They gave me a name when I filled out the application," you answered honestly. That day, after they chose to call you Radiance, a random and easily commercial name, you couldn't complain much and didn't want to bother, so you left it at that.

"You'll be introduced as an official member of the Seven tomorrow, how do you not have a suit?" He took his hands off his back, moving them as he spoke to express his confusion, and for a few moments you followed it movement like a child who can't keep their attention on anything for long. "Who's handling your marketing?"

You couldn't answer, so you stayed silent and no one else dared to say a word either. You had no idea who was handling your marketing, not knowing you should even have that. You glanced quickly around the table, perhaps seeking some kind of help for the situation, but everyone looked down when they realized you were staring at them. They were enjoying themselves, and that made you exhale through your nose in embarrassment.

"You know what? Fuck it, doesn't matter." Homelander brought his fingers to his furrowed forehead, letting out a loud sigh as he calmed down. "Just... don't show up like this in public until someone gives you a suit."

"Yes, sir," you replied tensely, relieved that he had resolved the matter.

Sister Sage widened her eyes in relief when she finally saw the superhero sitting beside her. She opened her mouth to begin speaking, as she had intended from the beginning, but when some sound was about to come out of her mouth, Homelander spoke to you again, this time pointing an accusatory finger at you:

"And stop drawing, damn it," he ordered, causing you to slowly drop the pencil on the table, as if caught doing something wrong with the weapon of the crime in hand. You stared at your lap throughout the entire meeting, embarrassed for messing everything up on your first day.

When the meeting ended, you followed most people out of the room, but stopped nearby in one of the hallways. You slid down the wall, crouching in a hidden corner, and lightly tapped the sketchbook against your forehead in annoyance.

"Stupid," you murmured softly to yourself. It was so ridiculous, yet it embarrassed you so much. Maybe this first day wasn't so bad after all. You would have plenty of time to prove your worth to everyone, no need to dwell on this situation. Even though you had been corrected in front of some of the most iconic supers by Homelander himself, this situation could be overcome. It was thinking about it that kept you from letting the burning tears fall.

"I can hear you whining," Homelander voice made you jump to your feet, startled to be caught once again doing something you shouldn't. He didn't seem happy, and his expression was so intimidating that you felt like Mariah Carey performing for a crowd of Eminem fans.

He approached you in slow steps and you held the sketchtebook protectively to your chest, as if that could protect you from something. He glanced down to briefly see the object in your hands and looked at you with disgust.

"If you don't straighten up, I'll kick you out. Got it?" Everything about him exuded threat. Maybe if he weren't so imposing and powerful, that sentence would have sounded a bit like the janitor from your old school scolding you for spending too much time in the bathroom during class.

You were paralyzed standing there and all you could do was a nod. But your gesture made him more aggressive.

"Answer with your mouth. Are you mute or something?" And there he was, hands behind his back again. He seemed to enjoy that pose.

"I won't mess up, sir," you said, swallowing your saliva.

"And get rid of that. Or burn it, do whatever, just get rid of it. And I better not see you with that again," he said referring to your notebook, walking away faster than before. "These kids..." you heard him mutter distantly.

After that happened, you didn't destroy the sketchtebook, but you were afraid of being caught and kept it safely tucked away in the back of a drawer in your room. What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right? You mentally made a promise to yourself not to use it anywhere else but here, to avoid causing more trouble.

It's been a week since you've been with the Seven, and several strange things have happened. You quickly realized that Homelander wasn't the pristine and merciful hero everyone believed him to be. But the truth was that deep down you already expected that. Everything about heroes always seemed too perfect and pure, there had to be a catch. Despite everything, you still remained yourself, never intentionally hurting anyone or getting involved in murders and conspiracies.

You were comfortable helping out with some minor crimes that Vought sent you to solve, but by now you suspected that sooner or later Homelander would ask you to do some of his atrocities. It was still hard to think about how to feel about it, but you weren't naive, you were already mentally preparing to submit to it or else be killed.

During that time, as you adjusted and interacted with the team, it didn't go unnoticed by Homelander that you were drawing on your own hand, or on napkins and on random sheets you found lying around, even though you hadn't shown up with your sketchtebook again. This was starting to wear on his last nerve, but he tried to ignore it. As long stayed as you were, without asking too many questions and obedient, he made an effort to continue overlooking your makeshift drawings.

"Meeting's over," the blond suddenly declared, interrupting another of the Seven's weekly gatherings while cutting off The Deep's rambling about his ideas.

"But I haven't even talked about the flying shark yet," he tried to defend himself.

"Shut up," Homelander's voice rang out sternly in the room, issuing a warning that the man promptly obeyed.

"Right. Meeting's over." Ashley nervously moved to gather the portfolios on the new soda advertisement she had come to present, but as soon as she touched the first folder, specifically the A-Train one, the superhero exploded in rage:

"Ashley! Get out!" She immediately dropped the folder in place and hurried out in her heels, unable to run in them. "All of you! Get out of here."

Everyone got up from their chairs, even you, and filed out through the front door, leaving the folders on the table. Sister Sage hesitated, thinking she might be an exception, but when his scowl deepened, she understood she should leave too.

With the room empty, Captain Patria took a few minutes to admire the view from the tower. He enjoyed staring at it sometimes, even when bored.

"Bunch of idiots," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in denial, indignant. If he had to spend one more minute with these morons, he would have a heart attack, even though that was technically impossible for him.

He threw his cape back as he turned to leave, looking down and not focusing on anything in particular. But his eyes caught something different from the other folders. It was obviously yours, with a huge drawing covering the text and images printed on it.

That was the first time he actually saw something you had scribbled. And damn, it was perfect. It was a drawing of everyone in the room, with him in the center looking angry. Just as he was. His ego flared up as he noticed that his figure was more detailed than the others'. You must have started drawing him first, hence had more time to detail him. The idea of you making him the main focus of this particular drawing made his pupils dilate. He used his super hearing to check if anyone else was around and secretly took that sheet for himself.

The next time he saw you drawing in the Seven's room, he couldn't help but wonder if you were drawing him again. As soon as he noticed you sneakily reaching for a pen that belonged to Ashley, he looked in your direction. The noise that used to annoy him now sparked curiosity. And after staring at you for so long, it didn't take long for you to look back at him too. The blond thought you would be embarrassed, like most people, but you just grinned as if you were used to being caught looking. And indeed, you were.

You began drawing Homelander more frequently when you realized he never caught you watching him. It was easier and avoided awkward situations with other people. After two whole weeks of drawing him continuously while taking advantage of this freedom, you felt capable of drawing his face without even needing to see a photo, having memorized most of his distinctive features.

Well, it seems he's finally noticed you.

Sometimes, when alone in your room, you took out your sketchbook and started practicing the memory of his facial features you had developed. Just like every other time, you became absorbed in the drawing, focusing only on the voices around you to understand what was being said. This was also a way to keep yourself engaged during conversations, so you wouldn't get restless from being still while being a mere spectator of everything. After all, you never participated much or gave opinions; Deep already did enough for two.

The meeting had already ended, but you stayed in your chair, even as everyone else left, to finish just a part of the hair. You thought no one would mind, and then you would leave as usual, but a voice caught you by surprise:

"Can I take a look?" Homelander asked, for the first time, using a gentle voice beside you. His expression was enigmatic, somewhat relaxed, and shy at the same time.

You turned the stack of post-it notes, also taken from Ashley, for him to see what you had drawn, fearing what he would say. You weren't ashamed of drawing people, much less of them catching you doing it. You feared because he found your habit annoying.

He observed the drawing, seeing his posture from the side, upright and imposing. He wondered if you drew him exactly as you saw him, or if it was just another caricature of reality, like those Photoshopped pictures spread around. He looked much better than he imagined, though he had that superiority complex that made him see himself as a god.

For a moment, he was offended to see his image stamped on such despicable things as scraps of paper and these damn post-it notes. Your fingerprints were also visible stains, and the paper was slightly wrinkled from his sweat. He had noticed that sometimes you drew calmly, as if you had all the time in the world, and other times it was like drawing on a boat in a storm. Today seemed to be the latter situation.

"Do you like drawing me?" He glanced at you.

"I do," you shrugged. That was the simplest and most truthful answer you could give. "Sorry, I won't do it anymore," you said, thinking he was bothered by it.

"Why?" He ignored your apology.

"You're drawable... I guess," you stared at the table, not understanding the flow of the conversation.

"And what the fuck does that mean?" He asked in a louder voice, turning to face you, obviously confused. "Is this some artistic shit?"

"It's just that you're easy to draw because you have unusual characteristics. It's a good thing," was your answer, and it inflated his chest with narcissistic pride. Unusual, that's what you said, but to him, it was like being called extraordinary.

"Next time you draw me, try using a sketchbook," he said sternly, pretending to reject your work, but deep down, he just didn't want to show that he really liked it. That statement was his way of encouraging you to continue, but at the same time, it was so ironic, considering he got mad at you just when you were drawing him in the sketchtebook that day.

"But you asked me to get rid of mine," you said simply, your voice dwindling with each word of the sentence, not wanting him to find out that you had never thrown it away.

"I'll get you a new one," he said dismissively, taking the entire stack of post-it notes with him, including the drawing, as if you wouldn't notice.

[katszumi]

Studying with bakugo is almost NEVER studying with bakugo. The mf can yell at you to pay attention all he wants but a few seconds of it and you’re already back to yapping about the latest drama. Drawing little doodles on your paper (and a few on his) while you tell him about how kuroiro finally confessed to Komori from class 1b, and although he doesn’t like to admit it he’s paying more attention to your yapping then his studying. (Your the only person who can do that)

i hope i did your ask justice😔 this is the first one i’ve done, but thank you sm for requesting. and gosh, i love silly highschool romance sm REQUEST MORE PLS

sorta linked to this but can def be read as a standalone

“did you hear about kuroiro’s confession today?” you asked. you were laid on bakugou’s room floor, your notebook wide open with a few math equations along with a dozen of doodles.

you just asked him another silly question, one of the countless ones that you’ve already made in a hour.

bakugou already knew that you were a sociable person from the way you find a new person to talk to everyday, but he didn’t expect you to be this talkative.

truth be told, you’ve talked more than you have actually studied. which was the main reason why you had come to his room at nearly eight o’clock at night, close to his bedtime.

he only accepted the late study session was because the other reason for you to come was so he could speak with you privately. this was the best way he could do it secretly without being found out.

bakugou looked up from his textbook, directly at you. “no. not that i even care about that stuff anyway.”

your chin rested in the palm of your hand, silently drumming your fingers against your cheek.

“it’s hilarious though, cmon!” you pleaded with a small smile on your face.

“we’re supposed to be studying, y/n. did you forget that you didn’t exactly ace that test?” he rhetorically asked.

you pursed your lips together in a thin line, looking away from bakugou and back onto your textbook. you were dumb enough to even think you could gossip with bakugou.

he offered to help you study, not to bond more as friends clearly.

you picked up your pencil and began to write the equation that was written in the hardbook next to you.

hearing that there was no response from you, bakugou internally began to slightly panic. it was never like you to just shut up so easily. he couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that he came off too rude.

it’s not that he didn’t want to hear you speak, he just didn’t want to make his crush on you so obvious. he was trying so hard to be his normal self which was much harder towards you than he thought.

bakugou placed his textbook down, leaning back into the palm of his hands behind him. “what did that extra do?”

almost immediately, you released the pencil that was in your hand and made eye contact with the ruby eyed male in front of you. a smile tugged on your lips, one that bakugou couldn’t help but think was so fuckin’ cute.

“he made her a bouquet of mushrooms, because you know, her whole mushroom quirk thing. he tried to give it to her discreetly but someone walked past and made it a whole big deal.” you described. “honestly, i feel bad cause i think they’re both kinda shy. they probably didn’t want that attention.”

bakugou unknowingly listened to every word of yours, feeling himself being drawn into you. what was it about your voice that made it so compelling for him?

if it were anyone else like stupid shitty hair or raccoon eyes, he’d shut it down immediately, not caring about a single word they had to say about it.

but, he found it a little more difficult than usual to refuse when it came to you.

he snickered. “public confession? what a romcom move of him.”

you looked back down, noticing bakugou’s blank paper. out of boredom, you grasped onto his notebook. you started to doodle on the small square in the upper left corner; a couple of hearts, stars, dots to make it less bland.

“i think it was sweet. it’s hard to confess already, but to do it in front of an audience? takes guts honestly.”

bakugou watched you draw on his paper. he felt a little jump in his heart, some part of him liking the fact that you took initiative to add your own touch to something of his.

something so stupid. so small. but he couldn’t help but feel a tad giddy.

bakugou sat upright, gulping nothing but his own saliva. “is that something you would like?”

at first, bakugou curses at himself. why would he ask something like that? something that could definitely give away his small crush on you. but he remained his same stone-cold look.

you looked up at bakugou, noticing his eyes softening slightly before returning to their original position.

you thought about it long before responding. “nah. don’t think that’s something i’d really prefer. i’d like a simple confession with just the two of us.” you described.

it seemed a little weird to you that you were casually speaking of your own relationship preference with bakugou, but you tried your hardest not to think too much about it.

you assumed he was only trying to make small talk.

“good.” again, with bakugou’s one worded response. even though he didn’t add more to his sentence, his eyes lingered with yours. as if he was deciding something or carefully analyzing you. but it was a different look. not a competitive, angry look. but rather a tender look. one you have never seen bakugou wear, ever.

suddenly, he looked away, back onto his textbook. you seemingly didn’t mind considering the small tingle you were receiving in your face.

bakugou looked over his shoulder, begging to anyone even the gods above to remove the deep-set blush that was occurring on his face.

the male cleared his throat. “alright, let’s fuckin’ study. gossipin’ and yappin’ won’t help you get a better damn test score.” he chose the defensive route to move on.

you silently agreed with a nod. but, your mind goes back to the thought that you successfully just gossiped with the katsuki bakugou. the one that’s listed to only care about being the number one hero.

you bit the inside of your cheek to hide a smile as you tapped your pencil against your notebook.

just now, a kaleidoscope of butterflies slipped through the cracks of your stone wall, entering your stomach, and began to harvest a life within that had bakugou’s name branded on it.

[kakushino]

The Queen

Ryomen Sukuna x F! Reader

He never orders you around - rather, he requests.

Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna Word count: 1,7k

Masterlist

AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)

There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground. 

Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?

Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines. 

Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.

“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position. 

You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching. 

And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.

“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.” 

The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?

“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.

You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.

The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.

This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.

“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd. 

“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.

“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.

Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom. 

You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.

“Very well.”

Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.

His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -

With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.

All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.

Only if you let him know, that is.

You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.

So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him. 

You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do. 

Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber. 

You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.

That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration. 

At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.

“Everyone, out.”

He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.

And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.

The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World. 

“Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.

Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”

Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.

“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?” 

“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed. 

You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.

Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.

“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”

“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”

Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.

“Has a cat got your tongue?” 

Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size. 

You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.

“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.

Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”

His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.

The devil didn’t bargain, after all.

“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”

dividers by the divine @benkeibear

network: @enchantedforest-network

[dioll]

moonstruck ── park sunghoon

성훈 ・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ enemies to lovers fluff ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ physical touch kisses‎ profanity ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ 915 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ enhypen ── click

leaning against the wall, whilst your friends are conversing with the boys they’ve just met.

you sigh out of boredom. why’d you even join them? you hate parties anyway.

“hey, are you good?” one of your friends ask, due to your quietness throughout the night.

“mhm, i’m just gonna use the restroom.” well, that’s a lie. you need to catch a breather after suffocating in a mansion full of people.

“should i come with you?” she asks, whilst she settles the half-empty glass on the island.

“it’s okay, you enjoy. i’ll be back.” you reply.

“alright then, be safe. message us if something happens.” she says in a stern voice, before returning to her conversation.

smiling at her, as you make your way up the spiral staircase, lights illuminating each step.

second floor, there’s some random people here, you continue up.

ah the third floor, not a single person in sight. perfect. some peace until your friends drag you back down.

the mansion is quite huge, why was everyone crowded on the first floor? whatever, that’s none of your concerns. you’re at peace now.

the roof is high, and adorned with an elegant design.

your pace is slow, just strolling down the long, broad hallway. you see a huge balcony with a full view of the moonlit sky. beautiful.

you stare down, looking at all the cars driving in and out of the driveway, watching each person enter the mansion. was it weird? probably, but it’s not like you had any ill intentions.

your thoughts are distracted when you see a familiar individual enter the yard, making their way to the entrance of the mansion. park sunghoon, the imbecile that interferes with you at any given chance. it’s as if he’s asking for a punch in the throat. he does everything to piss you off.

but he is undeniably attractive.

his eyes lock with yours, a shit-eating smirk that can be seen from the third floor of a mansion. oh lord, peace is not an option tonight.

your eyes remain stuck on eachother. you’ve never been the one to lose an eye-contact battle. unfortunately for him, jake startles him, resulting in him breaking eye contact.

cute, wait what?

a few minutes go by, your friends are probably looking for you, as you’re about to turn around, you see sunghoon walking to you.

sigh p2. what does he want now?

you pull out your phone

f/n : where are you? are you okay??

you : all good, i’m upstairs, just catching up with a friend

f/n : thank god, okay be safe

“didn’t know that your phone is more interesting than me..i’m a bit hurt” he says, as he stares at the sky.

“nice.” you reply, with no care whatsoever.

“you know.. i’m starting to think that you actually hate me, is there a problem between us?” he asks with a serious tone.

“ask yourself that, you’re always the one to start arguments. do you expect me to kiss your cheek everytime you piss me off?” you scoff at him.

“honestly, i’d love that.” he says as he stares at you, whilst he tilts his head.

“excuse me?” you take a step back.

“you know that i only like to trouble you because you’re absolutely adorable, when you’re worked up. i like you a lot, y/n. you’re super funny and your personality is attractive.. just like your looks.” he confesses, taking a step towards you.

“cute, but i have a boyfriend.”

lie #2. you hate boys.

“mhm, you’re cuter but i know you don’t have a boyfriend. you hate boys.” he says, as he bends down to your height, trying to read your expression.

“and what makes you think that i’ll accept you? are you a girl?” you reply, waiting for an answer.

“i’m a man, i could be your man.”

well that definitely caught you off guard. the red tint on your skin does not go unnoticed by sunghoon. you can feel all your pride exiting your body as he chuckles at your state.

“you’re even cuter when you’re flustered, i’ll keep doing this until you’re mine.” he says, caging you against the balcony.

shit, how do you get out of this? at this rate, you’ll explode because of him.

your gazes are stuck on one another. you’re at a loss of words. you’re not ready for him to tease you about this for the rest of your life.

as you ponder of ways to get back at him, he tilts his head again.

him and those head tilts, drives you insane.

you’re about to say something but your lips land against his cheek instead. what. did. you. do. why do you always act on your impulsive thoughts?

the hue of his face turns to the deepest shade of red, as he’s processing what happened.

to him, this is probably a dream come true.

you smirk at him, knowing that you won this time.

“what’s wrong, park? moonstruck?” you tease him, as he continues to trap you with his arms.

“moonstruck indeed.” were his last words before he pressed his lips against yours.

your arms wrapping around him, whilst his hands are firm on your waist. he whispers praises and compliments between kisses, completely melting you.

“you know, my friends would be so confused if they saw us together.” you giggle as your hands rest around his neck.

“true, but it’s just the two of us.” he says before diving into your lips again.

♡ ・ @flwrstqr @moknu @onlyjjong @jlheon @lcvclywon @jlheon @amouriu @jjunae @hyeinism @nishislcve @mioons @jongocat @bywons @jakesangel @wonsdoll @isoobie @sainns @suneng

[suntoru]

─ ✰ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒.

— synopsis: 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, the popular guy in your class, chooses to sit next to you, of all people. you've fallen head over heels, what happens next?

— warnings: highschool au! angst, fluff in the beginning, will not be writing a part 2, swearing, gaslighting, betrayal, just a bet troupe, gojo being a dick or everybody generally, 3.4k words!

— a/n: not my proudest work to be honest :( also tried another formatting lmk if u liked it! comments and reblogs r very much appreciated i will love u forever

"yo. can i sit here?" gojo satoru grins, effortlessly sliding into the empty seat next to you and making himself at home.

...huh? isn't that the popular guy who's usually surrounded by his friends? he's constantly the subject of admiration among the girls in your class, eliciting swoons and whispers of infatuation wherever he goes. confusion creeps in as you wonder why he didn't choose the empty seat next to suguru. there's no conceivable reason for someone like gojo, popular and charismatic, to opt for the seat beside you. you feel a sense of self-consciousness settling in.

nevertheless, you nod softly, though you're well aware the question was more of a rhetorical one. he's fashionably late, by twenty minutes, to be precise, unabashedly ignoring the scolding glares from your teacher about punctuality. instead, he buries himself in the deep blue plastic seat, sticking his tongue out when the teacher turns his back, letting out a huffy pout from the lecture.

nervously, you glance up from your notebook, cautiously stealing a peek at your new desk buddy. he's pretty─ real pretty, snowy white lashes adorning his pretty cerulean spheres, dainty fingers idly spinning a pencil out of sheer boredom. and as if kissed by the blush of a gentle sunrise, his lips possess a natural rosy hue, smooth and plump, belong to him like a delicate work of art. you wonder just how many kisses they've stolen. caught in a moment of admiration, you find yourself staring a tad longer than socially acceptable.

his eyes flicker, locking onto yours, and the realization hits you—oh, he caught you staring. shit. immediately, you break eye contact as you cough awkwardly. you swiftly attempt to play it off, pretending as if you were engrossed in examining the intricate texture of your silver-grey desk instead. your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you hope he hasn't interpreted your lingering gaze as anything more than idle curiosity.

...should you say something? try to deny you were very clearly eye fucking him? he probably thinks you're a freak now. perhaps he sat next to you out of pity, and now he regrets it. out of sheer embarrassment, the words die in your mouth before they could ever leave, keeping your gaze glued to the floor as you refuse to acknowledge that his presence ever existed.

however, it appears that gojo won't let you suffer the embarrassment in peace. when your stern teacher turns away, he subtly slides a ripped edge of his blue-lined paper towards you, bearing a simple 'hi :)'. he's attempting a conversation, a surprising but welcome distraction from the awkwardness of being caught staring. an opportunity to salvage a bit of your dignity. now, the challenge lies in crafting a response that strikes the right balance.

would 'hey' sound too dry? but 'heyyyy' makes it seem like you're a little too interested. you opt for a casual 'heyy' with your black pen, scribbling the reply with extra caution to avoid prying eyes. as soon as the teacher is out of view, you subtly slip the note back to gojo. his lips curl into a slight smile upon reading your response.

two minutes pass by before you get a response. 'do you get this lesson? i'm soo lost..' accompanied by a small doodle of a crying suguru. you can't help but stifle a giggle; the drawing is poorly done, yet undeniably cute. the teacher swiftly turns around at the sound, prompting both of you to scramble and make it look like you're diligently focused on the lesson. the suspicious gaze lingers for a moment before the teacher returns to the whiteboard.

'maybe it's cause you missed like, half of the lesson.' you write back. he rolls his eyes playfully upon reading your retort, swiftly countering with a pout. "it's not my fault this class is so boring.'

'who said philosophy was supposed to be fun?' you reply. in response, gojo eagerly accepts the note, maintaining the subtle exchange of eye contact. 'hey, be nice to mr. aristotle, he's a great guy :(' he sends back. and thirty minutes seem to pass in the blink of an eye.

the bell chimes, signaling the end of the philosophy session and the need to transition to your next course. reluctantly, you stow your textbook in your bag, feeling a twinge of sadness at the realization that this amusing interaction might have been a one-time occurrence.

it's been a while since you've genuinely laughed. so when his ocean blue eyes latch onto yours with a genuine sense of hope, you quickly fold when he asks you if you're interested in sitting with him again tomorrow.

in those thirty short minutes, you learn three things about gojo satoru. firstly, you realize you've sorely misjudged him. he's not just another nepo-baby cheating his way through school; he's actually quite smart, smarter than he lets on. he's especially good in biochemistry, and he promises to help you study next time.

secondly, you discover that he loves sweets, just as you do. you both agree that kikufuku mochi is better than strawberry dango, and he even tells you about his favorite shop. maybe you can go together sometime.

and thirdly, he doesn't tell you this outright, but you learn that gojo is insecure. what strikes you the most is the glimpse of uncertainty you catch beneath his confident exterior. it's not about his looks or intelligence, but it's actually about his relationship with suguru. he's afraid to lose him, a fear that seems to drive him more than anything else. he overcompensates for his self-doubt. but you find that his flaws make him all the more pretty.

it's peculiar, the speed at which gojo somehow effortlessly integrates into your daily life. how he's feeling is how you're feeling, which is usually reflected on his friendship with suguru. if they had a fight, he'd be sad, and if everything was alright, he was too. but either way was okay with you, you just want to be there for him. what was once a dreaded fourth period now stands as the radiant highlight of your entire day.

despite the limited instances of verbal communication —perhaps a mere once or twice— the inexplicable truth remains: you've fallen head over heels for him. the simple act of passing notes with satoru becomes more than a routine; it evolves into the sole force that awakens you in the morning, the singular thought that propels you forward and keeps you going throughout the day.

and just maybe, the hopeless romantic within you fervently clings to the belief that his sentiments go beyond mere friendship. his actions seem to carry an extra layer of care, an attentiveness that extends beyond your platonic friendship. he notices the little things that escape the notice of others. it wasn't lost on him when you shed tears the other night due to the weight of stress; he went out of his way to procure your favorite candy bar, a sweet gesture aimed at brightening your spirits.

he took notice of your new haircut, expressing in a note that it frames your face nicely. he had comforted you when a classmate aimed a subtle insult your way, he wrote that the words of someone whose foundation didn't match their face shouldn't hold much weight. he even made an effort to be punctual for class, all to engage in the shared exchange of silly notes with you. and honestly, even if he didn't like you back, you'd be fine.

because your heart swells with gratefulness at the fact that he chose to sit with you. he wanted to be your friend even when nobody else did. you trusted and loved him with your whole heart, because that's what you believed he deserved.

so imagine your surprise when you overhear his conversation with suguru that day.

"just a day more, then you win the bet." geto groans, tossing his head back in exasperation. the two of them linger in the now-empty classroom, the echoes of other students long gone.

"yep, twenty four hours, then you owe me three hundred dollars." satoru sings, playfully nudging his best friend's shoulder. he's all sunshine and smiles, swinging his feet from the desk he's currently sitting on.

"and it wasn't even that hard. i just had to get 'em to fall for me." suguru rolls his eyes. "dude, if i was you, i would've tapped out the first week. how'd you manage to do it?" he huffs, clearly annoyed at the impending financial loss.

satoru mischievously grins. "just used my charm." he fluffs his hair with a smug expression on his face. "can't believe it worked so fast, though. they must be real desperate for someone's attention. all it took was for you to fuckin' pretend like you cared." suguru grouches, being a sore loser. you don't hear the rest, the notebook you had lost long forgotten.

a lump forms in your throat, a sensation of dread creeping up on you. you desperately want to believe he's not talking about you, but you can't shake the realization that to him, you were nothing more than a pawn in a bet— a tool used for his amusement. you're overwhelmed by a sense of stupidity, a painful realization sinking in, drowning every rational thought.

he never cared. you could fall dead at this moment and he wouldn't even spare you a glance. you should've known. why would he? you feel stupid for allowing him entry into your life, stupid for naively believing in his sincerity, and stupid for daring to love a heartless jerk who played with the fragile strings of your heart.

they're right. you are pathetic. you just blindly fell for the first person who gave, or rather, pretended to give a shit. a relentless ache throbs in your chest as you stubbornly refuse to succumb to tears over a boy— a resolution crumbling like fragile glass. despite your stubborn determination, an uncontrollable torrent of hot tears streams down your face, distorting the world into a watery blur.

the desperate yearning for someone to choose you, to envelop you in unconditional and pure love, had fueled your hopes. and for a fleeting moment, you believed you'd found it, only to witness your heart being ruthlessly trampled blue. clutching onto the tattered shreds of your dignity, half-broken and bleeding, you muster the strength to leave swiftly before they catch a glimpse of you.

the bitter taste of betrayal lingers in the air, each teardrop is a testament to the shattering of dreams, the dead hope that once soared. the yearning for a love that stands unwavering proves to be a mirage, leaving you grappling with the shards of a love that was never truly yours.

that day, you learn one more thing about gojo satoru. he's just like everybody else.

cerulean eyes, like pools of shimmering azure, flicker with concern as they scan the empty seat beside him. minutes stretch into eternity on the clock, each tick of the second hand amplifying the weight of his worry. nine twenty morphs into nine fifty pretty quickly, and he can't help but be a little annoyed. at this rate, you'll only get in twenty minutes of 'talking.'

you're always punctual—eight fifty-five on the dot. but today, the clock ticks on, and there's no sign of you anywhere. his brows furrow with concern, a nervous flutter dancing in his stomach. did something happen to you? the mere possibility sends a pang of anxiety through him, and he fidgets restlessly in his seat, unable to focus on the lesson before him.

yet, when his gaze shifts to meet suguru's, he swiftly masks his apprehension with an air of nonchalance, as if feigning indifference to your absence. but inwardly, his heart races as he anxiously awaits your arrival. when you finally walk in, he's already scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, filled with questions about what could have delayed you today. yet, as he extends his hand to pass you the note, his eager smile fades into confusion and disappointment.

you walk right past seat thirteen, your usual spot, without so much as a glance in his direction. instead, you approach a random girl and ask if you could sit with her. his heart sinks, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks as a torrent of thoughts flood his mind. is something wrong? are you upset with him? he replays every interaction in his mind, searching for any misstep. but he can't find one. he's been careful to maintain the perfect facade when you're around. perhaps you simply forgot, he reasons with himself, attempting to quell the rising tide of hurt and confusion.

yes, that must be it.

...just a simple oversight.

"hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!! just wait a moment!!" gojo's voice cuts through the chatter of students eager to leave as soon as the bell rings. he grabs your wrist, his touch gentle yet firm, halting your attempt to blend into the rush. his heart races in his chest, the sudden surge of adrenaline making his palms clammy.

"um... you didn't sit with me today." he mumbles, the words coming out in a rush, his voice tinged with uncertainty. his fingers toy with the ring around his finger, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggles to find the right words to continue the conversation. he doesn't like the way you're looking at him. there's a flicker of irritation in your gaze, a departure from the usual warmth and affection that he's grown accustomed to. normally, when his eyes meet yours, your cheeks tint pink, your pupils dilate, and you give him the cutest starry-eyed look. but not today.

"yeah," you mutter casually, your eyebrow raising ever so slightly. there's a certain coldness in your eyes that sends a shiver down his spine. you're about to leave again, but he moves to block the door, a frown creasing his forehead.

"did i do something wrong? i don't understand why you're suddenly acting so bitchy," he huffs, irritation lacing his voice. the words tumble out before he can stop them, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "no," you reply simply, your tone devoid of any emotion, as if you genuinely don't care. it stings his ego, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"you can 'use your charm' to make a new friend. since it's so easy for you, right?" you mutter, your voice trembling with suppressed anger. you promised yourself you'd hold it together, but the wound is still raw, etched deep into your mind as a flush of resentment rises within his eyes widen in shock, a pang of guilt stabbing at his heart. you heard that? no, no, no... he hadn't meant for you to be there. he had been so careful, or so he thought.

"i didn't mean it, i just-" he stutters, desperately searching for an excuse, but he knows it's futile. there's no chance you'd believe him now, would you? his heart sinks. he doesn't want you to hate him. "i was easy, right?" you laugh bitterly, each word dripping with sarcasm and pain.

"i hope that three hundred dollars was worth it. not that you even needed it, though. you think toying with people is fun? you're a dick, satoru, go to fucking hell." you hiss, your words laced with venom, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "let me explain-" he protests, desperation evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. but you're too angry to even consider it.

"explain? explain what?'" you explode, your voice rising with each syllable, oblivious to the judgmental glances of passersby. you scoff, tears threatening to spill over.

"i didn't mean it," he cuts you off, his own voice strained with emotion. "you're my friend, i just—" his voice cracks. "friends don't manipulate other people's feelings." you interrupt, your voice laced with venom as you spit out each word. you're aware you look like a mess, mascara staining your cheeks. "friends don't trick and hurt you on purpose!" you yell, tongue dripping with malice. "and here's the thing. you may be the greatest, satoru, but you will never, be enough. not for suguru, not for anybody."

you almost regret saying it. targetting his biggest insecurity. but then again, he deserves it. "how could you say that?" his voice is broken, quiet, as he mumbles it out as a whisper. the eyes that you once found so stunning suddenly look just like everybody else's. they well with tears, but are quickly blinked away. "you don't get to cry, satoru," you scoff, unzipping your bag and opening the front pouch.

you toss all the letters you've written in class, all the sticky notes, every single ripped paper, every little doodle, flipping your bag over and emptying it on the floor. every single heart fluttering moment you experienced seems so dead now. "you don't get to act like you cared. it's only fair, after all." you manage to muster, fighting to keep your voice stable. tears drip down your chin as your bottom lip trembles.

every step feels like a battle, a relentless tug-of-war between what your heart wants and what your mind knows is right. leaving him behind is like tearing off a piece of your own soul, but you convince yourself it's for the better— for your own sanity, for your own self-respect. each stride forward is heavy with the weight of goodbye, each breath drawn in a struggle against the ache in your chest. and as you finally turn away, a part of you dies inside, a piece of your spirit crumbling in the wake of shattered trust and broken dreams. you can feel his eyes on your retreating figure, the silent witness to your silent agony.

this time he doesn't try to stop you. and when you leave, gojo finally allows himself to cry.

today, gojo finds himself seated next to suguru, reclaiming his former spot from before the bet. yet, everything feels different now. the idiotic jokes his friends make just aren't as funny anymore. their presence is irritating to him. he laughs, but the sound lacks the same genuine joy it once held with you. he smiles, but it's a mere shadow of the radiant expression he wore in your presence. his heart may feel a fleeting sense of happiness, but there will always be a hole where you once were.

his so-called 'buddies' don't even notice that he's at his lowest point, and he can't help but think about the way you would've noticed immediately.

how you would've sent him a cute note with his favourite candy attached, because you kept them in your bag just for him, for these kinds of days. he feels so numb. he's always been so confident, yet he can't even muster up the courage to pass by your desk.

and he can't help but wonder what might have been if he had chosen differently that day, if his intentions had been pure from the start. would you two have gotten somewhere? he supposes that now, he'll never know the answer. his eyes cloud over at that thought, slouching back down into his seat.

he never had the chance to tell you how sorry he was, how he would take it all back in an instant if he could. he didn't mean to hurt you. he was stupid and careless. and yet, he tries to convince himself that he'll be okay. that he'll be able to get over you one day. one day, when he's married and has two kids, he'll look back at this and laugh. so then why does his heart feel so heavy? you're not suguru, it's true. but suguru never made him feel this way. and he's confused with his own feelings.

he doesn't know what love is.

he's only sixteen.

perhaps he'll never know. but for him, love was sneaking kikifuku mochi into class for you to share. it was sending you cat memes at three am in the morning, only for you to groggily respond with your own. it was doodling you in his notebook in his spare time. it was how what you were feeling was how he was feeling too.

you were right, it seems.

gojo satoru, the greatest, yet not enough to make you stay.

© KAEFFEINEE 2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[luviestarz]

jeon jungkook fic recs!

❁ romantic dreams | jeon jungkook - @kooktrash (he’s always dreamt of finding his soulmate in some romantic way, bells ringing, birds chirping, maybe even a shine of light over their head. he never imagined to find them living next door to him with absolutely no clue to the extent of the growing infatuation he has toward you until it’s a little too late. hypnotized by your entire existence he finds his dreams and delusions of love to be a little too intense for anyone to bear.)

❁ Toned, Tanned, Fit & Ready - jungkook - @thvhoe (Jungkook loves acting like the word "Pain" doesn't exist in his vocabulary.)

❁ redamancy - jjk (part II) - @lesgetittkookie (jeongguk is just a normal dude with a simple routine. wake up, go to the gym, work his job as a waiter at this posh upscale restaurant in the heart of gangnam before coming home to a night full of video games and ramen (it's delicious and cheap). that routine gets disrupted when he accidentally taps the back of an expensive sports car of one of the richest men in south korea. considering he's broke, he couldn't afford to pay for the damages so the man makes a deal with him by offering him to work at his house as one of the gardeners. jeongguk takes it but wasn't prepared to meet this beautiful young woman who's constantly lounging by the pool, you, the rich man's daughter.)

❁ guys my age | jeon jungkook - @kooktrash (a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.)

❁ perfect timing. - jungkook - @delugguk (one night in a city full of life; what it's supposed to be a friendly and fun dinner date, ends up with a night full of unrevealed secrets and unexpected pleasure.)

❁ ⤷ seven days — jjk - @jvngkoos (jungkook does everything to make you forgive him for seven days, will you pity him and accept his apology?)

❁ visions - jungkook (yandere) - @trivia-yandere (you’re convinced by your friends to go to a party and let go of the memories of your ex just for one night. unfortunately for you, jungkook doesn’t want to be let go.)

❁ ⤷ got her skippin’ work — jjk - @jvngkoos (trying to go to work is an everyday challenge for you with a boyfriend like jungkook, and it’s one of those mornings where he does anything and everything to keep you in bed with him)

❁ ego season masterlist | jjk - @sparklingchim (your ex-high-school crush is now your fuck buddy. you just gotta make sure that your older brother taehyung, jungkook's best friend, doesn't catch you red-handed.)

❁ Devoted to Trouble - @jeonsweetpea (In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world?)

❁ RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART ONE - @rklve (your life choices left not only yours, but jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around his sun forever.)

❁ seven days a week | jjk (m) masterlist - @jjkeverlast (jeon jungkook has always had crazy ideas, but wanting to fuck you every day of the week was the last thing you expected.)

❁ blueberry haze | jjk - @caelesjjk (he had been eye fucking you from the stage all night. but you never expected anything to come of it. but when you run into the beautiful blue haired drummer after the show, you decide to let him show you some of his other talents.)

❁ cabin fever | jjk (m) - @jeongi (trapped in a cabin with your ex-best friend jungkook, you’re forced to overcome the fallout between you two.)

[jlheon]

𝓑𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌 ୨୧ 𝐋𝐇𝐒

(𝓹airing) — lhs x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓸ne-sided enemies to lovers ; fluff & kissing (𝔀ordcount) one-thousand one-hundred thirty 𝓹eng's note. flirty hee i collapsed! can’t tell if this is e2l but we ball! 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. you give heeseung detention once again for his habit of loudly chewing gum

every time you write up lee heeseung for detention you lose a year off your lifespan.

“detention,” you roll your eyes as you slip the bright red piece of paper to the boy sitting at his desk on his phone.

“again!” heeseung sarcastically cries, taking one glance at the slip and pushing it back to you. “will you be the one supervising?”

“unfortunately,” you sigh, shoving the paper more aggressively at him, hoping it’s more effective. “you better show up this time.”

“last time it was your annoying vice president watching over,” he replies. “if you’re there i’ll be there too princess,” heeseung winks.

you think it’s unfortunate how lee heeseung has one of the prettiest faces you’ve ever laid eyes on.

he obnoxiously chews gum during class even though it is strictly against school policy with that stupidly pretty smirk adorning his even prettier face.

girls left and right whining over the fact he never looks their way makes your blood boil for an ‘unknown’ reason. you pass it off as being annoyed that they even like the boy despite his actions, but maybe you feel bitter about the fact the only time lee heeseung looks your way is to blow a bubble of gum in your face to piss you off.

at the end of the week, lee heeseung managed to garner three detention slips.

meaning you’ll have to spend three hours on friday alone with him in a classroom making sure he does absolutely nothing.

detention was one of your least favorite things about being student council president.

yes, you are so grateful to be in such a high position in student government but sometimes giving up your friday afternoons to supervise your troubled peers is a bit tiresome.

today, it’s your week, and to your luck, the only person listed for detention on your clipboard when you walk into the vacant classroom is none other than lee heeseung.

“there’s my favorite girl!” heeseung struts into the room with his freakishly empty backpack and headphones hanging loosely around his neck. it amazes you every year how he moves up each grade despite never having any supplies nor assignments on him. “i was going to skip but then i saw your pretty pink skirt from the hallway.”

“sit down lee,” you say sternly, sitting down at the teacher’s desk.

“anything for you angel,” heeseung smirks as he takes the chair from the nearest desk and places it next to yours.

“at a desk,” you scoot your chair as far as possible until it collides with the wall.

“come on baby,” heeseung whines. “it’s just me and you.”

“it’s protocol,” you try again, hoping to get your point across.

“loosen up a little princess,” he says while moving his chair closer to yours as much as possible, the proximity making your cheeks heat up an embarrassing amount.

“i’m doing my job heeseung,” you frown, crossing your arms. he thinks you're adorable.

“you’re doing good just sitting and looking so pretty,” heeseung teases. “were you thinking about seeing me in detention while getting dressed today?”

“shut up,” you huff, facing your body toward the wall while unlocking your phone.

in your peripheral vision, you see him putting his headphones on and grabbing his phone from his pocket. you’re already letting him sit next to you so you must reinforce the strict no-phone policy for your pride and to cancel out your wrongdoings.

“give me those,” you say as you remove his headphones and snatch his phone.

“you’re so strict,” heeseung rolls his eyes, slouching in his chair, and accepting the boredom about to take over him for the next three hours.

unless…

“why do you always write me up?” he breaks the silence.

you ignore him.

“other people chew gum all the time,” heeseung tries again. “so why is it a problem when i do it?”

“maybe because you chew so loud,” you finally reply, back still facing him. 

your answer does not satisfy him. he decides to push your buttons more and pulls out an empty gum wrapper from the pocket of his jeans and starts loudly fiddling with it. hoping to simulate him putting a piece of gum in his mouth.

your ears are quick to pick up the familiar sound and you turn around in your chair.

“are you seriously having gum right now?” you ask annoyed, facing him completely. “i’m going to write you up again!”

“i’m not,” heeseung smiles teasingly.

“you’re a shit liar,” you say as you move to stand up.

“why don’t you come here and check for yourself,” heeseung pats his lap.

“i’m not sitting on your-” is all you manage to get out before he pulls you to rest on top of him.

“see,” heeseung opens his mouth, letting you see the emptiness with your own eyes.

after, you can’t help but stare at his lips after his mouth is shut again. your stares are obvious but you are somehow lost in a trance.

his arm wraps around your waist, the tips of his fingers ever so slightly brushing your bare skin that your shirt doesn’t cover.

heeseung brings his free hand behind your head and slowly brings your face towards his as he leans in impossibly close.

“i’m going to kiss you,” he whispers, looking for any signs of discomfort from your end.

you stare at him like a deer in headlights once you finally break out of your trance. taking a second to register his words before shyly nodding your head.

heeseung’s lips finally touch yours and he thinks detention with you has never been more worth it.

the softness of your lip gloss-coated lips against his slightly chapped ones is addicting for him.

when you push against his shoulder for air you can’t help the flustered expression that washed across your face. his lips now adorn a pinkish hue from your lip combo, the shades of your lips now matching.

embarrassed by how easily you gave in, you lean down to bury your head in the crook of his neck, making him let out a chuckle.

“let me take you out on a date?” heeseung asks confidently, hands rubbing your sides softly.

“please,” you say quietly into his neck, still in disbelief about the kiss.

“how much longer do we have left?”

you reach for your phone and see that only thirty minutes has passed since heeseung arrived. you’re not sure whether to be thrilled to have more time with him or sad that you still have two and a half hours to kill.

“two and a half hours,” you tell heeseung, setting your phone aside again.

“great,” heeseung grins.

“great?” you ask confused, he between the both of you should be the one wanting to get the hell out of here more.

“i have two and a half more hours to kiss you.”

[xvysarene]

𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝔻𝕖𝕖𝕕

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Prompt: “You’re pretty good at running away.” Words: ~2.8k Genre: Eventual fluff A/N: In a writing slump and kinda dislike how this one turns out but oh wells

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

“Marry me,” you had said.

Those two words—whether they were your saving grace or the beginning of your damnation, you weren’t sure.

Then, he surprised you when he said, “Okay.”

Nothing more and nothing less.

It almost felt like he had anticipated your arrival, barreling your way into the base upon learning of your father’s, one of Onychinus’s highest-ranking partners’, demise.

Seeing your stupefied expression, he nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s a practical solution to an unfortunate situation.”

That wasn’t your first time meeting Sylus, and you’d be far too naïve to think he would ever do anything for free. Every favour, every exchange, came with an unspoken contract—an inevitable quid pro quo.

But it was a choice between marrying him or being eaten alive in the N109 Zone.

“Although, I must ask—have you truly thought this through?” Sylus inquired, his gaze sharp.

There was a reason why you chose to move to Goldwood City once you had the chance; far away from the lawless land to start anew, free from the shadow of your father’s association.

As if the death of your mother caused by his recklessness years ago wasn’t enough, the old man had to pull you back into the very world you had succeeded to leave behind.

Staying away was a luxury you no longer had with your old man’s enemies haunting you.

Head held high, you met his gaze directly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure of my choice.”

Oh, little did you know, that your return to the N109 Zone as Onychinus’s leader’s wife, would mean putting your heart on the line as well.

Perhaps it all started that one evening, when a nightmare jolted you awake, haunting you with the vision of your mother’s lifeless eyes and being captured by the people your father had entangled himself with.

Without even realising it, you were already standing at Sylus’s doorway. 

“Why?” he questioned when you asked if you could stay the night in his. “Something wrong with your room?”

Indeed, he offered you your own space even though you were legally husband and wife now. It had been a relief at first, a perfect arrangement, until the nightmares escalated.

“It just feels too quiet tonight,” you lied, unready to fully bare your soul.

Sylus finally looked up from the papers he’d been reading, one eyebrow arched. “Not used to being alone at night back in Goldwood?”

Your face flushed at the implication. Just as you opened your mouth to deny it, something in his expression shifted.

It was so fleeting and subtle that you weren’t even sure if you had imagined it.

He raised a hand, halting your reply. “Actually, never mind about it.”

When he simply returned to his papers, offering no clear sign of whether you were welcome, you frowned.

You were about to take your bruised pride back to your room when you heard him let out a resigned sigh. “Are you coming or no? You’re letting the draft in,” he said, pulling back the duvet on the vacant side, inviting you to settle in.

His acceptance was surprising, but you quickly climbed into bed before he could change his mind, feeling a surge of relief and security with him close by.

If you were too close for comfort, he didn’t mention it.

Sylus was so warm that you shuddered from the sudden temperature change. The base, with its perpetual chill, was a stark contrast to his body heat.

“What are you reading?”

“Mundane proposals,” he muttered, tone laced with boredom as his eyes skimmed the pages in front of him.

With your interest piqued, you scooted even closer, your hair slightly brushing his arm. “Anything I should know about?”

When you told him that you wouldn’t settle for being a trophy wife, he offered you an administrative position in Onychinus, which you happily accepted.

“I feel that these are better off in the trash.”

A small chuckle escaped you, drawing Sylus’s attention. He cast a glance downward, amused by your reaction.

That somewhat prompted him to give a brief outline of the proposal, perhaps to get him through it too. And he was right, it was so dull that you felt your eyes fluttering closed, lulled by the deep timbre of his voice.

“—heard that the twins take good care of you.”

“Hm?” You peeked one of your eyes open, though it was futile as it soon closed again.

Whenever he was away, Luke or Kieran—often both—were always by your side, becoming more than just your guards; they were your mentors, teaching you the complexities of Onychinus’s operations, and they were slowly becoming your…

Friends. A foreign term to you.

Friendship had never been something you could afford, not with the constant paranoia of trusting the wrong person, no thanks to your father.

In your drowsy state, you remembered mumbling, “I feel at ease when I’m with them.”

“At ease, huh? That’s a rare concept around here.” Sylus’s voice cut through the fog of your drowsiness.

Your mind, still wrapped in the haze of sleep, seemed to speak for itself. “You also make me feel more comfortable than I expected.”

Looking back, you laughed mirthlessly at your own stupidness. Where was that defense mechanism you had sworn was ingrained within you?

You knew better than to allow yourself to be vulnerable, to let someone slip past your guard easily in such a short span of time.

Especially someone like Sylus—a man cloaked in power, whose intentions were always enigmatic.

“You’re pretty good at running away.” The voice, carried by the wind, reached your ears. “Pretty good, but not the best.”

“Here to claim your bargaining tool back?”

His footsteps stopped a few paces away from you. Refusing to meet his gaze, you remained looking ahead. The once vibrant colours of sunset faded into darkness, as if the sky itself mirrored the ache seeping deep inside your soul.

Sylus let out a deep sigh. “How much did you know?”

A few days ago, while you were sorting through Onychinus’s papers, you stumbled upon an old, yellowed document hidden deep on a neglected shelf, seemingly placed there to remain undiscovered.

As you read through the faded ink—an exchange made between your father and Sylus a long time ago, marked with their signs and bloodied fingerprints—it felt as though you heard your old man laughing from his grave, determined to terrorise you even in death.

That bastard had sold you to Sylus, bartering your life for a sliver of power within the N109 Zone.

“Did you have fun watching me pathetically beg you to marry me? Knowing all along that you’ve owned me anyway?”

The memory of his calmness that day burned in the back of your mind. Your intuition was right after all, he had anticipated you coming to him.

And if you were honest with yourself, it wasn't even your father you were so angry with—you’d always known what a monster he was.

No, what burned like a hot iron in your chest was the sense of betrayal, the sting of disappointment aimed squarely at Sylus. 

How could you have been so blind, so gullible to believe that this man could be anything more than another player in your father’s ruthless game?

“I asked you that day if it was what you truly wanted,” he calmly said, “I never forced you to marry me.”

You bristled. He was right, of course.

“But you would make sure that one way or another, you would claim me as your possession, wouldn't you? Even from the moment we first met,” you spat.

It was a few years ago when you were first introduced to Sylus. Your mother had begged you to accompany her to a function, and how could you refuse when the guilt of leaving her in the N109 Zone with your father still weighed heavily on you?

For whatever reason you couldn’t understand, she had refused to move in with you.

The function was a blur of faces and conversations that made your head spin, the air thick with the aroma of expensive cigars and the tang of power.

You felt out of place, an outsider in a world that had once been your cage.

“Darling, I want you to meet someone.” Your mother’s tone was a strange mixture of joy and nervousness. She gently took your arm and guided you through the crowd until you stood before a tall figure, his presence commanding.

“This is Sylus, the leader of Onychinus,” she introduced. “He’s agreed to work with your father on some very important matters.”

You blinked in surprise. Somehow, you expected the leader of the most prominent organisation to be someone closer to your father’s age, but he was only a couple of years older than you.

Sylus’s features were sharp and striking, though it was his eyes that held you captive. They were intense, piercing, as if he could see right through you.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Y/N,” Sylus greeted. He took your hand in his, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.

Your mother’s keen eyes noticed the crimson that spread across your cheeks, her lips pursing to contain a smile.

“Oh, Sylus, no need for such formalities,” she said lightly, elbowing you to greet him back.

You tried to compose yourself, but his unexpected charm and the way he looked at you left you flustered. “I—uh, nice to meet you too," you managed to stammer.

“Your mother speaks highly of you,” his low voice sent tingling sensation on your insides.

The soft rustle of grass as Sylus settled beside you made your skin prickle. Stupidly, you still craved his closeness.

The nightmares had ceased when you began staying in his bedroom altogether, finding security in the steady rhythm of his breathing beside you. But since fleeing the base, they returned relentlessly, creeping back each time you managed to get a shut eye.

He stretched out his long legs, the fabric of his jacket brushing against you slightly, his gaze fixed on the distant city lights glimmering on the horizon.

“I didn't want you to find out like this,” he finally said, voice low and measured, as if he had carefully chosen each word.

“Then enlighten me, Sylus, what was your grand plan? To control me? To tame me into the docile wife you always wanted me to be?”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sleek black box, pressing it into your hands. “This will explain better than any of my words.”

Slowly, you opened the latch, revealing a collection of emblems—some new, some tarnished—from various N109 Zone fractions. Resting on top of the seals was a folded envelope, its edges frayed.

Sylus nodded towards it, urging you to read the letter inside. As you unfolded the paper, the familiar handwriting of your mother’s came into view, despite the hurried and uneven scrawl.

What I could not say, his deeds will show. Have faith in him.

“Your mother approached me before the agreement with your father was finalised.” Sylus’s expression was unreadable. “She wanted me to protect you. From your father, and from anyone that might harm you.”

As the dots began to connect inside your spinning head, the realisation dawned. “And that’s why you asked for me in return? Why didn’t you tell me this when I first came to you?”

“Keeping you near would make it easier for me to ensure your safety, at least until I could handle all of your father’s enemies.” He shot you a sideways glance. “Do you think we’d be here now if I had laid it all out for you from the start?”

You both knew that if he had, you would have likely flipped him off and done everything in your power to escape his presence.

The cold metal emblems bit into your palm as you examined them, each one representing what had once been a looming threat. A deep understanding shifted your perspective entirely; this was what Sylus had been occupied with during the days he left you in the care of Luke and Kieran.

He had been thoroughly hunting down your father’s enemies, your nightmare, to ensure that you could finally be free from them.

It wasn’t his incompetence that had kept him from finding you days after your escape. No, he had been securing the final pieces of your freedom.

“What did you ask from my mother then? There must have been something you got, that’s how you grant wishes.”

Sylus gave a soft huff, as if he was on the verge of a chuckle, and shook his head. “Contrary to popular belief, I do grant wishes without expecting anything back.”

Your eyes flicked to him in surprise as he continued, “Nothing. I asked for nothing in return. Your mother earned my respect, and that was enough.”

Everyone understood that dealing with Sylus was a risk, a gamble that could even cost you your life.

Studying him intently, you searched for any trace of deception, but all you discovered was a grave sincerity. His eyes were unnervingly tender when he watched the shock painting your face.

“I’ve kept my promise to your mother. You're a free woman now, free to do whatever you want.” Sylus broke eye contact then, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he added, “We can also get a divorce.”

A divorce.

The word set something unsettling that clawed at your insides, sinking deep into your core, and catching you completely off guard.

For a moment, your mind replayed the way his intense red eyes met yours with kindness, to his touch that held a tenderness that couldn't be faked, and the subtle ways he had shown his care for nearly half a year now.

You hugged your knees tighter, the cold ground beneath you contrasting sharply with the warmth of your memories. “Is that what you want? For us to go separate ways?”

“What I want,” he began slowly, “never matters. This has always been about you. Your choice.”

A second passed, then ten, before you quietly whispered, “What if I choose to stay with you then?”

It was as if a wall had been erected again.

“You are not thinking with your head right now, but with your heart. You trusted me because you saw me as your only lifeline.” His voice was rough, edged with frustration.

“But what if underneath the leader of Onychinus, underneath the man that everyone fears, is the one I want to stay with, the one I feel at ease with? Not because of my father’s shadows nor his enemies.”

Sylus breath hitched, a sudden tension rippling through his frame as he struggled to keep his composure. “You don’t know me.”

His voice carried a warning, attempting to push you away, but you stood your ground.

In that moment, you understood why he often held himself back, creating distance whenever he found himself growing too close.

He was afraid of caring for you beyond what he thought his promise to your mother allowed, struggling to maintain the balance between his feelings and his commitment, fearing that crossing that line would mean violating his duty.

“Then show me.” You moved closer, invading his personal space. “Show me what’s behind all this.”

With resolve burning in your eyes, you cupped his face and leaned in. Your lips sought his, praying you hadn't misread him all this time.

That you wanted the warmth and tenderness you’d glimpsed in fleeting moments to be real and not just a reflection of your own desires.

For a breathless moment, he remained still. Then, something in him seemed to break, a crack in his armour. Strong, corded arms slid around you, pulling you closer until you both tumbled back onto the grass, entwined.

His hand brushed the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as his lips pressed into yours with a ravenous need.

It was a kind of kiss that laid bare the truth, shattered every wall, and left you panting for air.

Your breaths intermingled when you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. There was a vulnerable openness in there, a look concealed beneath the hardened exterior.

“You never read my mother’s letter, did you?” you suddenly asked him.

Confusion flickered in his eyes, his brows knitting together as he shook his head. With trembling fingers, you retrieved the letter from the box and held it up between you.

The dim light from the horizon cast soft shadows on the small message scribbled on the bottom of the paper.

Sylus’s eyes traced the words, his gaze shifting from the letter to your face as the message slowly registered.

Sylus—remember that you, too, deserve love just as much as she does.

It was as though your mother had not only seen the heart within him, but had also foreseen what he had struggled to admit.

With a gentle touch, your thumb brushed against his cheek, lips featherlight as it brushed against his once more. “Take me home, Sy.”

[triannel]

Bill Cipher and the reader being opposite deities, like since Bill causes chaos, and the reader is a peace keeper for all humanity. They always fight eachother, but one day they slowly begin to like each other or maybe fall in love, could you make Bill being the one falling harder for the reader?

As some people say, opposites attract.

Being the deity of peace, when Bill came around to bring chaos and destruction, you quickly took it upon yourself to keep an eye on him.

Everytime, after each person he talks to, and asks to make a deal with, you will always come after to speak to them and make sure they do not accept it...but most of the humans would still accept though, making Bill chuckle everytime you'd see each other.

He thought you were just going to be a little hedge of a problem he had to deal with but nope! Being on the same footing as him, you both could not exactly defeat each other in battle.

You never did try to engage in combat with him, being the literal personification of peace, it would be against your own principles and existance to do so. So he would always be the one to try to bend and break you, but to his dismay you just wouldn't break. You never did fight back as well, so he started treating you as a punching bag in the long term. However he also can't exactly succeed in that as you never do take the punches.

But even still, even in even footing, he made sure to observe you closely, in hopes of finding some sort of weakness.

There are instances in which both of you would interact. Perhaps by chance, you both happened to be in the same area. Since he doesn't have a tangible form... anymore, you often meet in the mindscape or someplace lesser than the 3rd dimension.

Although you do try your best to keep peace amongst humans, it does not mean it is your only duty. The universe has actually given birth to you long before humans existed. Making sure that the solar system and objects in the universe is in harmony is one of the earliest things you did.

Being one of the oldest creatures to ever exist on the 3rd dimension, is not as great as it sounds. You have watched countless genocides and certain creatures go extinct. The melancholic hold of your existence just isn't appealing. You will always be alive, feeling and seeing. The people you've grown close to will one day cease to exist as the time for your existance seemed to go on forever until everything might even dissapear. It will be a long, long journey until you will be put to rest...well if that is even possible.

Perhaps, even Bill Cipher can resonate with the feeling. His plans have gone on for so long that it has tested his patience countless of times, but being immortal himself, he just waits, his patience growing stronger by the second. Sometimes, the longevity of his own existence bored him to the point of boredome or worse.

Finding similar grounds, you both have noticed the similarities you hold. It may not be a lot but it seemed to have sparked something deep inside of you both.

Well for you, it was enough to understand him further. You have known him for quite a long time now so he might have grown on you in all honesty.

For him though, although he admits that he does absolutely dislike you, he still grips on your attention as you are one of the most consistent and one of the most powerful beings in the 3rd dimension he has contact to. He does have plans to use you, but your keen mind would never make it so.

At one point, he would be the first to fall for you. Being the one to hate you the most, it was inevitable that the universe/dimensions decided to flip his view of you.

When he did started to develop feelings for you, he would become more avoidant of your presence. But other than that, he would also most likely try to bottle his feelings up.

He'll do his best to just continue on with his plan. However, he may lose focus sometimes as his mind wanders to you and his confusing feelings. As his heart may flutter to and fro, he'd just hold it in until then. He might be curious but he's not foolish. Taking the time though, Bill would try to understand why- how to get rid of this mushy emotion.

You though, yes, you do also end up falling for him. Throughout the years, your keen eyes have seen something other than destruction inside this 2nd dimensional being. His personality might have stricken you strangely at the start, but being cautious, you could see past his facade and recognize a similar pain you felt as well.

The only thing left is to wait in all honesty. Who will be the first to speak, to finally confess to each other, to reveal and unravel what may be.

Placing a sugar cube in your tea, you let the sugar slowly melt. Mixing it gently, Bill Cipher sits comfortably besides you. Sipping from your cup, you let out a long sigh afterwards, your body relaxing ever so slightly. As a quaint smile appeared on your face, Bill glanced at you.

The cold darkness of space glows slightly brighter as you both watch the birth of a star from afar.

Despite his evil schemes, sometimes you both would share a cup of tea, and in moments of silence like these, peace has finally prospered... for a few hours.

Continuation (2)

[cvntydazai]

underdog

when you and your boyfriend work for the port mafia, spending time together isn’t always going to be a top priority, especially when he’s an executive and you’re just an underdog.

pairing; chuuya nakahara x fem!reader

word count; 2.5k

content warning; heavy angst, fluff, cursing, lots of mentions of alcohol, bestfriend!dazai, miscommunication, unedited, slightly suggestive if you squint, chuuya is a sweetie pie who i love with my whole heart

a/n: my second post on here! i’m working on my masterlist and stuff right now but formatting that stuff can be so boring so it takes me forever.

you woke to the feeling of the cold morning breeze against your shivering body. the bed felt empty on chuuya’s side, as it always did. he usually left for work earlier than you did, claiming it was mori’s request that he be there at the crack of dawn but some days it felt like he did it by choice.

while chuuya was an executive under port mafia, you were simply an underdog, taking on miniscule tasks that don’t require the attention of any higher up. you tried to reason with your bitter feelings on the title, it was better to be out of the spotlight. so why did you want to be in it so badly?

your phone that laid on your bedside table rung, chuuya’s contact name stared back at you. with a sigh you reached for the phone and accepted your lover’s call. “hello?” you start, a moment of silence before chuuya speaks.

“hey, mori said there’s a job for you.” of course, mori wouldn’t waste time calling someone of such low importance so chuuya was tasked with it.

chuuya explained the details of the mission. it was simple, as they all were. you needed to collect missed payments from someone the port mafia worked with. you were also informed they weren’t hostile, that it was just to collect money.

“if you don’t feel comfortable going alone i can send akutagawa to go with you.” his concern was noticeable even through the phone.

“no, it’s fine. these kinds of jobs bore him anyways.” and they bore you too, but you never voice your complaints.

“okay, just.. be safe.” you agreed, ending the call immediately after.

you got ready in the time it took for the cab to arrive at your apartment. there was no small talk on the ride there, just the silent hum of lost radio signal on the stereo. this would take maybe an hour or two tops and then you would have nothing left on your schedule for the day. that’s how it typically went, no work of any importance.

“we’re here.” you thanked the driver and stepped out.

-

it took an hour and a half, only because the shop owner who owed money did not want to cough up the cash to pay his debts. eventually you had to threaten him, and he finally agreed to pay what he owed.

with the money in hand you headed for the port mafia in the same car you came here with. the same silence, same boredom. when you arrived there was no one to greet you so you decided to take the money up to mori yourself.

you passed akutagawa on the way there, he stopped you. “are you going to see mori?” you nodded, motioning to the suitcase that held the heaping amount of money. “just let me take it, i’ll let him know you went home after finishing the job.” he said, snatching the suitcase from you quicker than you could comprehend.

of course, you could never see the boss yourself. the higher ups had to always be the ones, why couldn’t it ever just be you delivering your work to your boss? it wasn’t fair, but you didn’t dare speak out.

“thanks, akutagawa.” he nodded, turning back to mori’s office.

when you reached the entrance again there was the same driver, you sat in the same seat.

“going home?” you thought about it for a second.

“no, take me to the nearest bar.” he complied without saying another word.

the nearest bar happened to be one you frequented, when you entered you were greeted by the bartender who was currently cleaning off glasses from previous customers. you took your usual spot at the center of the bar, ordering what you usually do. you drank in silence, playing with the hem of your coat while you thought to yourself.

the coat was chuuya’s gift to you after he noticed how much you loved wearing it. even after he handed it over to you, sometimes you would still put it on his side of the coat rack so it smelled like him when you wore it. he used to tease you about it, saying you could just start wearing his cologne too if you liked the way he smelled so much.

the coat that once kept you warm felt colder now. maybe it was because it had aged significantly since it was gifted to you and was now littered in holes, or maybe it was because you hadn’t properly seen chuuya in weeks and the coat doesn’t smell of him anymore.

he was always busy, always having missions to go on while you rotted away at home like the useless underdog you were. could being a higher up and risking your life be worth it, if it meant you could see him more?

“hey, stranger.” you knew that voice anywhere.

“hi, dazai.” you didn’t look up to meet his eyes, only feeling his presence sitting beside you.

even with dazai being in the agency now, he was still your closest friend. you still frequently saw him, usually to drink but sometimes to just talk. chuuya didn’t like it whatsoever but never made an effort to stop you. he would remind you that port mafia doesn’t meddle with the agency if it doesn’t have to, and you would reply with the same “i know” as you left.

he ordered a drink on his never ending tab and hummed a tune to himself. he was awfully quiet, so unlike him.

“you know i’m gonna ask you what’s wrong, right?” he broke the silence, and for the first time since he arrived you looked him in the eye. he saw the tears welling in your eyes and it hurt him to see you like that.

“is it chuuya? are you two fighting?” the only reason he could think of.

you let out a huff, taking the last swig of your drink.

“wish we were, at least we’d be talking to eachother.” you wiped your mouth, motioning to the bartender that you wanted another.

you could see the gears in dazai’s brain working in real time, deciphering your words like a case. you knew he would figure it out eventually, but all you needed right now was comfort so you gave into his curiosity.

“i want to ask for a job promotion, i’m so tired of being seen as a weakling in the port mafia.” you admitted, pulling your newly filled drink closer to you.

dazai didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised, his eyes held sympathy for you, you hated it. he cleared his throat, as if he was about to tell you the world was ending right then and there.

it felt like it was, you were losing your one and only love to a merciless job and no one in the port mafia took you seriously no matter how hard you tried to prove to them you could get work done.

“correct me if i’m wrong but.. is this really about wanting to move up in the mafia? or is it about wanting to see chuuya more?” he solved the case, just like that.

you didn’t bite back your tears any longer, letting them fall into your crossed arms as you sniffled. you were just about to take another gulp of your drink but dazai stopped you, giving you a knowing look, you didn’t handle your booze well and he knew it.

the alcohol wouldn’t solve your problems but maybe it would dull the pain in your heart. ignoring dazai’s pleading look, you drank again. nothing mattered right now, not even the hangover you’d feel in the morning.

dazai knew he couldn’t stop you, but at least he could watch you to make sure you were safe.

-

a couple of hours later and a few drinks down you were feeling the effects in full, your tears morphed into giggles and you felt on cloud nine. dazai had a few drinks in him as well, but not nearly as many as you. continuing to ignore his looks of concern you tried your hand at the dart board mounted on the wall ahead of you.

you were just about to take your shot when dazai’s ringing phone startled you.

“hey! i would’ve gotten it that time!” you shouted, slurring your words.

dazai rolled his eyes and accepted said call, already knowing who was on the other end without having to check the caller id.

“where is she?” chuuya’s harsh voice rang through the phone.

“the bar next to the port mafia building.” he replied calmly, ignoring the slew of curses from chuuya.

“i’ll be there in a second, make sure she doesn’t have anymore to drink.”

when chuuya arrived at the bar he walked onto the scene of you fighting dazai for a bottle of wine and the bartender watching with an unreadable expression. you wouldn’t have even noticed he was there if dazai didn’t greet him.

“what are you doing here?” you frowned, snatching the bottle of wine at last now that dazai was distracted.

“taking you home, put down the bottle.” he could tell you were shitfaced just by looking at you.

“i’ll go with you, but i’m taking the wine.” you reasoned, knowing chuuya wouldn’t be leaving this bar without you.

he agreed, sighing whilst digging in his pockets for his wallet. he slammed a wad of cash onto the counter, apologizing to the poor bartender who had to deal with two idiots the entire evening.

“i’m sorry about that, this should be enough to cover both of their tabs and the bottle of wine.” the bartender offered a smile of gratitude and wished chuuya a good night.

dazai followed the two of you out of the bar, hands stuffed deep in his pant pockets.

“do you.. need a ride?” chuuya asked, already regretting the simple act of kindness. you stood at his side, eyes trained at your feet with your bottle of wine tucked tightly under your shoulder.

“nah, i’ve got someone coming. i’ll see you around.” he took his leave, and chuuya quickly ushered you in his car.

the car ride home was silent, the only thing to be heard was your fiddling fingers. you wanted to say something, anything to break the tension but your brain felt like a melting pot of emotions. you were mad, yet you also yearned for him.

“i-“ you began, he stopped you.

“not right now, we can talk when i’m not driving.” if that wasn’t a dead giveaway that he was angry you didn’t know what was.

it was quiet the entire way back to your shared apartment. the anxiety bubbling inside you helped you sober up, you were still long gone. despite his obvious frustration, he still opened the car door for you and guided you up the steps into your home.

the second the door shut his mouth was moving.

“why didn’t you tell me you were going to be gone? do you have any idea how worried i was?” his voice raised and fired up, it sparked your own rage.

“well, i’m sorry i want to do something other than be your housewife.” a confused grunt left chuuya’s lips, never had he thought of you as his housewife.

his confusion only made you more upset, he truly had no idea how you felt.

“i’m sick of being here, never having anything to do.” you complained, walking into the kitchen to grab a glass for your wine.

chuuya followed you, a stern expression on his face as he quietly listened. he could see you were hurt in a way he desperately wanted to understand, but hearing you say you were sick of being home was like a bullet to the chest. this place was supposed to be a safe place for the both of you, had he done anything to give you the impression of otherwise?

“and no one in the mafia thinks i’m useful, not even you.” you mumbled, fumbling with cork screw that sealed the wine shut.

chuuya suddenly grabbed the bottle from your hand, now looking you dead in the eye. the grip on the bottle made the veins in his hand bulge, you weren’t sure how the glass hadn’t shattered from the force.

“who said that?” he asked, an unnerving calmness in his voice that worried you.

“said what?” you gulped, no longer worried about your wine.

“said you were useless.” silence on your part.

“no.. no one’s said it but i can feel their judgement. hell, even akutagawa thinks i’m useless.”

“akutagawa thinks everyone is useless.” he argues.

“not you, he respects you.” chuuya releases his hold on the wine, instead occupying his hands around your waist.

his touch is gentle, almost cooling against your flushed skin. he leans his head into your neck, breathing in your scent which you’re sure smells of a mixture of all the alcohol you’ve consumed. “and.. it’s not just that i want to be recognized more in the port mafia. i also want to see you more.”

your confession makes him smile, you can feel his lips curving upwards on your neck.

“is that was this is about? you miss me?” you’re half tempted to push him off of you now, his ego undoubtedly stroked. “why didn’t you just say that, sweetheart.”

“it’s hard sometimes, you’re always busy and i barely see you.” he hums in agreement, pressing light kisses your shoulders.

it was hard to stay mad at him for too long when this was his way of apologizing, drowning you in physical affection that melts not only your heart but your body.

“well, if you really don’t like where you stand in the port mafia right now, I'll talk to mori. no one thinks you’re useless, hell i thought you liked staying out of the dirty business.” the mafia itself was all dirty business, but you understood what the meaning was in this context. “and i’ll try my hardest to be home more, i never mean to be gone so long darlin’, work is just hectic sometimes.”

you turned to look at him, his beautiful eyes looking at you with all the softness in the world. “i know, i’m so sorry i made a big deal out of all of this. i just felt so lost.”

he understood, “don’t be sorry, you were hurting and i should have seen it. i’m sorry, i love you more than anything.”

“it’s okay, but i think that booze is catching up to me, i need to sit down now.” with a soft laugh he guided you to your shared couch.

the rest of the night he spent pampering you, making you two dinner and putting on a movie for you to watch in the living room. you laid there in peace, your head resting against his chest while his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.

for the first time in weeks, when you fell asleep beside him you woke to him in the morning.

[nayedoll]

Do or drink

joost klein x reader

summary : you and joost dislike each other before an unexpected kiss during a ‘do or drink’ game makes you rethink your feelings.

warnings : enemies to lovers if u squint hard enough, mostly fluff

rpf ahead, do not read if uncomfortable !!!

───────────────────────

“You know what, I’m gonna say it.” Your friend said confidently. “I think you and Joost would make a good couple if you stopped acting like babies,” she added and hid behind your other friend as you grabbed a pillow and threw it at her.

“Oh my god, do not ever say that again,” you yelled at her as they laughed at your exaggerated reaction.

“No but why do you guys hate each other sooo much to begin with?” your friend insisted in a mocking voice, taunting you all the more. You opened your mouth to respond but suddenly paused, leaving your friends in anticipation.

In complete honesty, there was no reason for your shared hatred with Joost. From the first moment you were introduced to him, you had made your resentment for him very clear in different ways, be it responding sarcastically to him or rolling your eyes every time he spoke. You couldn’t quite explain why his face got you so worked up every time. Everything about him just sort of annoyed you; his fluffy blonde hair, the striking blue color of his eyes, the constant smile on his face that was infuriatingly charming or the sound of his laugh whenever he made another one of his stupid jokes.

Joost wasn’t any better himself, though. Any chance he got, he would endlessly tease you and find excuses to start a bickering match with you. The memory of him straight up ignoring your offer for a handshake the first time you met, still got to your nerves, revitalizing your distaste for him.

Eventually your friends accepted your rivalry, as it wasn’t affecting the rest of them, even making it an inside joke. Ironically enough, you spent most of your time with Joost during friends gatherings, the two of you always bickering about the littlest things. In a way you found it fun, often teasing him out of boredom and vice versa. Besides there was an undeniable attraction for one another, one that neither of you were ready to admit yet.

However, things took a turn when your half-drunk friend got the idea to play ‘Do or Drink’ at a house party. Naturally as the game progressed and you all got more drunk, the questions became more intense without much thought behind them.

“Y/n,” your friend said with a simpering smile on her lips and looked at you. You sighed, worried about what would follow, knowing your friends well enough by now.

“I dare you to kiss Joost.” Silence filled the room as the rest of your friends shared knowing smiles and stared intently between the two of you. You turned to face Joost who was already staring right back at you, grinning.

“So?” your friend pressed and you felt your cheeks burn, thankful that the blush on them could be justified by all the drinks you’d had.

“Oh, don’t push her,” Joost said in a condescending tone, “I’m probably her first,” He was smiling even brighter now that he saw how furious his comment had made you, your eyes narrowing at him and lips quivering from frustration, God he was so annoying.

“No I’ll do it,” you blurted out, mimicking his stupid smile and he nodded, satisfied. You got up to sit next to him on the couch before Joost gently brought you to his lap without warning, a sudden heat overtaking your body at the newfound proximity.

“Ready?” he asked with a smug expression.

“Shut up,” you whispered and leaned in to kiss him. Your mouths collided passionately, both of you soon getting carried away and forgetting about all your friends watching. You deepened the kiss, thinking of it as a way to let out all the pent up frustration for Joost. He tightened the grip on your waist and brought you closer as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with his soft hair. You swore you could feel him growing harder under you, smiling proudly into the kiss.

Your kiss was quickly interrupted by Apson telling you to “get a room” followed by combined groans from your friends, before they continued on with the game. You pulled back, breathing heavily as Joost stared up at your flustered face. His eyes were needy, filled with lust contrasting with the sly smile on his lips. You tried to speak, say anything that would get on his nerves but you just couldn’t find the words in you. Instead, you got off his lap and hurried off to the kitchen to grab another drink.

-

You didn’t speak with Joost that night after what had happened. Or at all. The kiss had led to newfound feelings for him -or really, feelings that you refused to acknowledge all along- as you started longing for his touch, cherishing the little details about him that previously infuriated you. You went from arguing non-stop to barely making eye contact in hopes that Joost wouldn’t notice you get flustered, though you recognized that at some point you would have to confront him.

Not long after, you were sitting in your rooftop with a couple of your friends, Joost included, drinking and chatting. The sun was about to set, offering a beautiful view of Amsterdam in red and yellow hues. You kept on glancing at Joost a couple of times as the light breeze made his blonde messy hair even messier. You sucked in a breath, thinking about how his hair would look in the morning after waking up next to him, daydreaming about the warm sun rays caressing his face while he slept peacefully.

“I’m so bored,” Your friend, Alissa, speaking interrupted your thoughts, bringing you back to reality as you averted your gaze from Joost to face her.

“Is anyone up for clubbing tonight, pretty please?” she added, dragging the sound of the last word in a pleading voice. The rest agreed as expected, never turning down an opportunity to party and drink. Alissa looked at you, giving you doe eyes.

“I’m not in the mood,” you chuckled. She groaned and rolled her eyes, nagging you about coming along but you persisted as the last thing you needed right now was loud music banging in your ears and to be hangover the next day.

“Joost?” she asked as you awaited his answer, discreetly looking over at him.

“Nah, I don’t feel like going out either,” he said, looking at you as he pronounced the last word with a subtle smile, the nicest he’d ever given you.

Your friends slightly paused, staring at the pair of you as you awkwardly looked around, anywhere that you wouldn’t catch a glimpse of Joost. “Whatever,” Alissa then mumbled, urging everyone to leave with her so that they could get ready on time.

All that remained now was an uncomfortable silence which made you realize, you had never been left alone with Joost in the two years you had known him, at least not in such an intimate setting.

“Want a cigarette?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You finally looked at him again and nodded, watching as he inched closer to you. The sudden proximity caused your cheeks to burn, your arm slightly brushing against his. He passed you a cigarette, his fingers grazing yours as he did so, sending shivers down your spine. You heard him laugh to himself.

“What?” you smiled, he took a drag before turning to meet your gaze.

“Nothing, I just never thought that we would be smoking together on a rooftop after all of our friends ditched us,” he explained and you laughed at the irony.

“Neither did I,” you agreed, admiring what was left of the sunset in front of you as you exhaled a thick plum of smoke. The short moment of bonding between the two of you, gave you enough courage to speak again.

“Can I ask you something?” you said and he gave you a small nod.

“When we…” You trailed off, trying to think of a way to say what you wanted. “When we um- kissed,” you continued, noticing the slight smirk on his lips at the mention of you kissing, “Did you like it?”.

He stayed silent, taking another long drag of his cigarette. You stared at him intently, growing more embarrassed each second. Why did you ask him that?

“Ja,” he finally answered, confidently. You bit your lip, fighting back a smile, this wasn’t as one sided as you thought. Joost noticed you avoiding eye contact, your shyness earning a soft chuckle from him. He had never seen you like that before, so calm, so timid and it drove him crazy, this new side of you that he hadn’t yet seen.

“You’re really cute when you get shy, y’know?” Joost lightly brushed your hair out of the way as you turned to look at him, the pink blush on your cheeks definitely visible now. His eyes flickered back and forth between your eyes and lips while he caressed the warm skin of your face.

“Joost,” you muttered but he cut you off, crashing his lips with yours. This time, it was more gentle as he kissed you slowly with pure affection. He slowly lied down to the concrete floor, bringing you on top of him, your legs straddling him. You instinctively began grinding down on his thigh, the sensation of his rough jeans brushing against your heat, making you moan into the kiss.

He smiled, pulling away just to place small kisses on your neck, littering it with love bites. His hand that was previously on your hair moved closer to your inner thigh at an excruciatingly slow speed that made you whine.

“Please,” you mumbled, short breaths leaving your mouth and he laughed.

“Never thought you’d be begging me,” he whispered in your ear and continued sucking on your neck. You began unbuckling his belt but Joost quickly stopped you, placing his hand atop of yours to hold it in place.

“What?” you asked in a whiny tone.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, putting his hands on each sides of your waist. “I just don’t want to rush things,” He kissed your forehead and you smiled. You supposed he was right; having sex on the concrete floor wasn’t exactly the most romantic or comfortable thing.

“Is this you punishing me for being a bitch for two years straight?” you joked, causing him to grin as he pulled you into a sweet embrace.

The sky was dark by now with many stars shining above you as you cuddled. You drifted off to sleep, listening to the sound of Joost’s heartbeat and the distant music coming from the city’s night life. Joost placed a peck on your hair, his eyes also slowly closing.

“Goodnight mijn meisje”

[l0vergirls]

munchausen syndrome by proxy.

romantic yan!batfam <3

as requested by anon:

the symptoms start showing slowly in the form of fatigue, common headaches, and dizziness. as time passed, it got worse and worse, which left you bedridden.

it was tough to get used to, but you held onto the hope that it'll be gone in a couple weeks, just as bruce said.

during this time, they coddled you to no end.

dick often visited you with a hot meal in his hands, which he'd insisted on feeding to you even though you've proven you could do it yourself.

no use straining yourself with extra work, he said.

you could accept that he was a caretaker at heart, but it felt a bit much when he would run his fingers through your hair, whispering words of consolation.

tim was usually the one giving you your doses, as well as bruce. there was no reason to suspect him, after all, with his skittish grin and slightly awkward demeanor. sometimes, he would bring a handheld console with him to ease your boredom. you favored him slightly more than the others because of that.

jason visited you the least and when he would, he had an unreadable expression written all over his face. he wasn't bad company; conversations with him were always fluid and enjoyable, which was why you wondered why he seldom visited you when you were stuck in that room. you didn't hold it against him— you couldn't, for some reason.

damian liked visiting you, though if you didn't know him as well as you did, you couldn't exactly tell. you've learned to look at the most miniscule of his habits to read him. the most obvious one would be how his shoulders would slightly relax around you.

bruce was by your side most often, believe it or not. whether it be giving you your medicine, or just to spend the night sleeping on the chair whilst he holds you hand. he constantly reassured you that you'd be better in no time; not that you had any other choice but to believe him.

when the couple weeks are up, you've felt an improvement. that is until you suddenly feel like fainting after a shower.

you didn't— but the boys would rather not take a risk, so why not just stay here a bit longer? that way, they can monitor your vitals, and give you just what you need!

you're free to roam around the mansion, just don't push yourself too hard lest you want to find yourself back in that room.

and if you suddenly feel suffocated, so hopeless in that place, fearing that you may never get better? fret not, someone's always there to wipe your tears, hold you tenderly in his arms, and kiss away your sorrows.

do i think that jason would feel very guilty basically having a hand in taking away your autonomy? yes . will i elaborate on this? let me get back to you on that .......

[emeritusemeritus]

One, two, three? [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: one, two, three?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Non-specific.

Summary: Fred gets up to mischief pretending to be his twin.

Warnings: None? Slight deception, pranks, humour. Fred’s a menace. Sorry Cho, I needed a victim.

Word count: 1.3k

In honour of our April fool’s birthday kings, HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRED AND GEORGE. Please accept this little prank-filled drabble as a gift.

"Hi, um George?" You heard a voice behind you say meekly, causing you and your companion to turn around in confusion.

You'd been in the library for most of the afternoon with Fred, studying for your end of term potions exam whilst he looked up ingredients for a new project him and George had been developing, some new potion that made the drinker glow like a candle. To your surprise, Fred was actually concentrating for the most part and had actually allowed you to get some valuable studying done without much interruption, though you could sense his concentration wavering and boredom taking over him as he got increasingly fidgety.

George had managed to get detention with Mcgonagall today before dinner, though Fred had managed to avoid the punishment entirely on account of being the first to flee. George had mentioned in passing that his charms partner would be meeting you all in the library after the last class of the day for them to work on their homework together and of course you thought nothing of it when Cho joined you in the library.

Charms this year had been a little different as you were sorted into classes of grouped abilities with some students able to take a short course for their OWLS from the year below, so that they could study another elective if they wished. Due to this, a few students from the year below had entered your class at the start of the year and you were no longer lumped with just the Slytherins, the short course students were mixed houses.

"Oh hey y/n," Cho said as you turned, offering you a shy little wave with her free hand as she clutched a handful of books to her chest. You'd never really talked much with Cho but she always seemed nice and friendly. You greeted her and began to correct her previous misstep when Fred leapt to his feet, pulling out a chair for her.

"Hi Cho, what are we working on today?" He said with a wicked glint in his eye, pretending to be George. You looked at him momentarily with a disbelieving look before rolling your eyes, knowing that he would deeply enjoy playing along as his twin to cause a little mischief.

"I thought we could start with the non verbal spells?" She says, taking a seat and spreading out an array of books, parchment and quills for the task.

You barely paid attention to them as they talked, though your attention was drawn in every so often when Fred would drop little hints that he might not be the right twin, though they went entirely over Cho's head. She had no clue that she was actually talking with Fred and you had to say that it did amuse you slightly, though not as much as it did Fred. Around half an hour had gone by, George still hadn't showed and you could tell that Fred was getting bored of the act and was getting close to actually doing the work which he had no intention of doing, so he decided he would feign needing to meet Fred.

He shot you a wink as he stood, subtly kicking his bag under the desk towards you and walked out, leaving you and Cho alone. You chatted for a little while, mainly asking her how Quidditch was going, before a familiar red head rejoined you.

He had taken off his school jumper, untucked his white shirt and you noticed that his hair has been tussled slightly with a little more of the short, front strands pushed back. It didn't fool you for a second but you were intrigued to see if it could pass with someone that didn't know them, like Cho.

"Cho right? Hey," Fred says with a smirk and a nod of his head before he slumped down onto the seat beside you where he'd occupied only minutes before. He stretched out his arm around your shoulders as he took a seat and had said a simple, "hey gorgeous," to you as he grinned ear to ear.

"Hi, Fred right?" She says sweetly, her eyes squinting a little as she looks at him, hey eyes flicking between the pair of you and his arm around your shoulders, deducing that it must be your boyfriend.

"Yeah, this is Fred," you confirm, your tone a little drier than usual as you pointedly looked at him. He squeezes your shoulders tighter in a mock warning before offering a warm smile to Cho.

"You're George's charms partner right? Have you seen him? I've been looking everywhere for him," he says with a smirk. You roll your eyes and shift out of his hold to hunch yourself back over your potions book, subtly shaking your head at his actions, knowing he was enjoying himself way too much. Cho however, nods enthusiastically before looking around slightly with her eyes as if searching for her charms partner.

"He actually just left, he was looking for you," she says shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear where it had fallen out of her headband.

"Really? Interesting," Fred says, leaning back in his chair. "I'll go find him." Fred leans forward and kisses you on the head before walking casually out of the library doors, leaving you alone with Cho once again.

"They spend a lot of time together don't they?" She says, breaking the somewhat comfortable silence and you have to hold back a laugh as you look up from your book.

"Yeah I've always said they're more like conjoined twins than identical," you joke, sending her a warm smile. You knew she was probably uncomfortable having never spent much time around you and the twins and so you tried your hardest to be nice to her, despite Fred's silly prank.

"Sorry about that," Fred says rushing back in, now wearing his school jumper once again, pretending to be George.

"Oh Fred’s just been, he was looking for you," Cho says as she looks at 'George', pushing the textbook over to him as he takes his seat.

"Really, so he's around?" 'George' says with a tone of surprise, suddenly looking around as if he'd just missed his twin.

"I'm gonna scout out the courtyard, he's supposed to be meeting me, bloody Fred," he says playfully, rising from his seat once again and walking back through the doors.

"Couldn't see him," Fred says, walking back in not two minutes later, once again without his shirt and with slightly more tussled hair.

"He went looking for you in the courtyard," Cho says, looking up briefly from where she was taking notes on a piece of parchment. If she was annoyed by the constant disruption, she didn’t show it.

He shrugs and takes a seat next to you, trying to slide you closer to him by scooting your chair up towards his as he smiles widely at you, beaming with pride that his little prank was working.

"Hi, sorry I'm so late," George says, the real George, as he rushes in, throwing his bag off his shoulder and placing it onto the table looking a little puffed. He takes off his robe, placing it down on the back of the chair and you immediately notice that he'd not wearing uniform, or rather he is but he has a thick wool jumper on over the top that's zipped right up to his throat, hair soaking wet from the rain.

Cho suddenly looks between them and then to you with a face of alarm, trying to process what was happening as she takes in his different appearance.

"Wait, there are three of you?!"

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