#this is making me very annoyed about all that time wasted because without the last two years nightmarish years i might already be making

[coffeeworldsasaki]

I'm understanding almost everything in this code... it's pretty advanced and I'm understanding it 😭

[sanjisboyfie]

golden retriever boyfriend ! itadori yuji

yuji x male reader

-> very short but i wanted to show smoe love to this cutie wootie patootie.

- oh my fucking god. the absolute sweetest boyfriend i fear. this guy literally praises the ground that you walk on and is at your beck and call as if you were a deity and he is your servant. your day is just him constantly asking if he can do anything for you to make you happier, usually the response is just his company, which he blushes and playfully smacks you for.

"honey, do you wanna go to the store to buy some more snacks before we binge watch?" yuji asked, a wide grin on his face, "gojo-sensei forgot to take back his wallet he leant me from my last mission, so we can splurge and he won't even notice!"

you laughed at his eagerness, but shook your head. instead, you opened your arms up for him to cuddle himself into and said, "i just want to spend some time with you, i missed you,"

without wasting another second, yuji jumped into your arms and peppered kisses all over your neck, jaw, and face, "i missed you even moreee!! let's turn on your show already, then," yuji contentedly closed his eyes, breathing in your scent as his cheek was pressed against your chest.

he was in heaven.

- constantly thinking of you. he's always seeing things on the street that remind him of you, always wondering if you'd like something he picked out for you from a street vendor, will constantly be talking nobara and megumi's ear off about, "oh, [name] really likes that restaurant! should i buy him something to go?" "haha, me and [name] watched that movie last night and he really liked the main character's best friend, even though i liked the main character more!" "nobara, do you think [name] is more handsome wearing a bracelet or necklace? huh? well, i think he lookes handsome either way, but i don't have money for both so i need someone unbiased to choose."

they think they've heard enough, but they very clearly haven't since yuji always goes above and beyond in talking about you.

you're there to hear the praises he sings for you 50% of the time, but the other 50%...poor nobara and megumi because they gotta deal with his yappin ass. he never shuts up in general (he's just a bby) but when he gets on a tangent talking about you ... it's like this guy doesn't need to breathe.

he's just so happy and content with the relationship you guys have he can't help but make it known to everyone around!!! another thing is he could care less if it annoys the fuck out of everyone around him, he just nods his head at their annoyance and then goes, "well, anyway, haha, as i was saying before i was interuppted!"

literally inumaki probably has had to restraint himself from telling yuji to "shut the fuck up" because he just wouldn't shut up.

- yuji likes to make it obvious to you how loyal of a boyfriend he is. he barely glances at other people on the street if he's with you. he has actual hearts in his eyes when he even sees you in his periphereals, if you are right in front of him, dear lord save him.

the two of you were walking down the street to the conveince store. your pinkies were linked together as yuji listened to you talk about your day and the training you had to do. at one point you were complaining about gojo's antics as an irresponsible teacher and yuji couldn't help but think how adorable that annoyed look on your face was.

the pout on your lips, even you rolling your eyes was so attractive to him. he was enthralled by your story and, of course, you, he didn't even realize that he walked right into the clear glass door of the store.

as he face planted staight into the wall, you immediately are fussing over if he is alright. he turns to you with a grin, nodding his head to show he was fine. but the smallest drop of blood coming from his nose said otherwise.

and as you fretted over his very minor injury, he couldn't help but sigh in content as he thought you tending to him was the most heartwarming thing he has ever experienced.

"you'd be a great nurse, [name]," he says, not minding the subtle glare you threw at him, "your hands are so soft and gentle-"

"they're about to smack you if you don't shut up," you gruffly replied, but yuji wasn't deterred at all in singing your praises even more.

"you're so kind to me," he says with a dreamy look in his eyes.

once again, you sighed heavily at your boyfriend's attitude, pinching his ear, "quit it, yuji! what if you actually got hurt, you're lucky it was just a rush of blood. you need to be more focused, especially if we're gonna be out there fighting curses,"

yuji, unfortunately, doesn't take any of your warnings seriously. as he presses his cheek to the palm of his hand, he just stares at you lovingly, "what do you think? should we buy you a cute little nurse outfit and i can be your sick patient? you'd look so handsome in scrubs!"

another pinch to his ear, "yuji! are you even listening?!"

- has this really adorable habit of just getting lost in whatever you're saying and blinking owlishly at you with a very cute smile on his face. it's a really adorable sight, but when you're actually trying to tell him something, he's just looking at you like ":3" and not at all listening to what you're saying.

"gojo-sensei said to be extra careful because the blades were just sharpened, alright?" you advised, looking at the myriad of cursed tools that you were going to be training with. "hm, what do you think suits your fighting style more, babe?"

yuji only tightened his grip around your waist, burying his face into your neck as he was just too focused on your body against his to even begin formulating an answer to your question. even though it was a fairly easy question to answer.

"itadori yuji," you warn, sensing that he was spacing out once again.

"noooo," he whines, squeezing you tight, "'m your baby, not itadori yuji," he complains, exaggerating his name as if it were the worst sound in the world.

"well, you're going to stay itadori yuji until you answer my question," you say, wondering why you had to disclipline your boyfriend as if he were your child. you soften up though when you hear him whine once again, burying his head deeper into your neck.

ruffling his hair as a way of comforting him, ultimately caving in to his whines and attitude, you softly say, "baby, can you just help me out really quick?"

"kisses after i do?"

"of course,"

yuji is grinning like a fool and is suddenly very intrigued in the conversation on what curse tool works best with his fighting style.

GIVE ME ITADORI YUJI AS MY BOYFRIEND and id treat him like a king, thats all im saying. he deserves so much love, please.

[yoon-kooks]

seven tattoos later | jjk

🐰pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x tattooartist!reader

🐰genre: fluff, smut

🐰summary: if the hottest fuck boy in town made it a point to visit your little tattoo studio every week, how many tattoos would it take to make you fall in love with him?

🐰word count: 3.3k

🐰warnings: unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, sex on the couch, doggy, hes big and rough, lip tattoos, hickeys, lil bit of drinking, hes so annoying in this im so sorry

As you close up for the night, you look out the window and count at least four couples out for a dog walk. It’s past eight, but still warm and bright out. It’s like the sun never stops shining. Summer sucks like that.

Maybe you’d appreciate the sun a little more if you had a puppy to walk or at least a handsome guy friend to drag you outside so you aren’t just rotting away in your empty tattoo studio on a Friday night. Everyone’s apparently on vacation or getting married in Hawaii or something, so work’s been exceptionally slow this week. Fuck summer.

It’s lonely.

You might even miss Jeon Jungkook, the last person you ever expected to get along with. The first time he walked into your studio, he didn’t waste any time in hitting on you and making it painfully obvious. You were convinced he only walked in and got a tattoo that day because he thought you’d be an easy lay. 

That was around two months ago.

“What do you think would look good on me?” he’d asked while scrolling through your portfolio. You knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted you to take in his good looks, imagine the carved out physique beneath that leather jacket. That’s what guys like him do. And he was far from the first male client to ask you that. He wasn't special.

“I don’t know, maybe like a bunny or a duckling?” You just said the first things that came to mind—your two favorite animals. You didn’t give a flying fuck about what design would actually look good on someone you’d just met. Your icy heart definitely doesn’t warm up to people that quickly no matter how hot they are.

“Bunnies are cute,” he said without hesitation. You swear he was staring right at the dainty bunny tattoo on your collarbone. Then he tapped the top of his left hand, the one without all the other tattoos. “I’ll take one right here.” 

At the time, you didn’t think he was serious. (He was serious.)

“So, for touch-ups and stuff, it’d probably be good if I had your number, yeah?” he asked, leaning against the counter and admiring the final product on his hand. Him and his cocky ass smile. It’s annoying how hot he is. Unfair, too.

After inputting your number into his phone, you needed to make one thing very clear: “Send me a dick pic and I’ll tattoo all of your exes’ names on your forehead.”

“I promise no dick pics,” he chuckled. He must’ve taken your threat as a cute little joke. “But I would like to take you out sometime.”

For a moment, you just stared at his handsome face. Everything about him was bright and shiny. His pretty eyes, the art wrapped around his arm, that confident smile. The sun had nothing on him.

But the thing is, you knew better than to trust guys like him. They’re always saying shit they don’t mean. And you were tired of being let down by those empty words.

What would make Jeon Jungkook any different from the fuck boys who’ve burned you in the past?

You didn’t know enough about him to answer that question, but you also weren’t willing to get to know him.

It was for the best.

So after you politely declined the invitation, the boy nodded, waved farewell, and jogged out the door. At least he was decent enough to accept his fate and move right along. (He wasn’t.)

Just when you thought you’d gotten rid of him, he spun around. “See you next week for the touch-up, Y/N.”

He was still smiling like an idiot. You didn’t understand why.

“You’re not gonna need a touch-up in a week,” you shouted back as he dashed off. Fast little fucker. You doubt he heard you, but it didn’t really matter. With all those other tattoos, he already knew how touch-ups worked.

Besides, what were the odds of him showing his pretty face again after rejection? Every other client you turned down never came back. Not even for a touch-up.

You didn’t believe for a second Jeon Jungkook would be back.

A week later, he proved you wrong and waltzed right back in like you never rejected his ass. Of course he did. The week after that, he had three of your designs etched into his hand. And he just kept coming back for more, week after week.

Somewhere along the way, you learned he’s a wedding photographer, an artist like you. He’s shown you his photos a few times even after you specifically said you hate weddings. The photos were gorgeous, though. As much as weddings make you want to gag, the sweet moments he captured had the reverse effect. Somehow, you were envious of what those couples had.

You’ve also overcome the impossible task of learning to tolerate his dumb humor. It’s probably because his laugh and smile are so contagious. He won’t stop running his mouth until he sees you smile either, especially when you’re having a bad day. Your cheeks hurt whenever he’s with you.

Fast forward two months and he now has a total of seven of your tattoos. It feels weird not seeing him this week, not breathing in his woodsy cologne, not leaving your mark on his perfect skin. But you suppose that’s just what happens when the guy who’s been annoying the shit out of you suddenly goes to Hawaii. The withdrawal symptoms are kicking in. 

Your world is a whole lot quieter. It’s peaceful for once. And yet, you miss that chaotic idiot. 

Fuck summer. Fuck people who get married in Hawaii.

Your phone buzzes just as you finish cleaning up. Hopefully it’s someone who wants to book an appointment. (It’s not.)

When you read “jungcock,” you roll your eyes with the faintest smile—the perfect example of your clashing feelings for the boy.

jungcock🥴 [8:24PM] “Got time for me tonight?🫦”

Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “arent you supposed to be in hawaii rn?”

Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “and dont use that emoji ever again”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “I’d never choose Hawaii over you😌”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “(They called off the wedding)”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “🫦”

[8:25PM] [jungcock🥴 is now blocked]

[8:31PM] [You’ve unblocked jungcock🥴]

jungcock🥴 [8:31PM] “Is that a yes?”

Y/N🐰 [8:31PM] “i hate you a lot”

jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “Hear me out”

jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “What if😳👉👈 I brought snacks?”

Y/N🐰 [8:34PM] “fine”

You groan and shove your phone back into your pocket. Sometimes you wonder how you let this dork finesse his way into your life. Where did you go wrong?

Jungkook arrives at your studio ten minutes later with your favorite peace offerings—soju and pancakes. Ah yes, this is how he finessed his way to the top.

“Ooh snacks,” you hum as if you didn’t believe in his ability to pick something up on the way over. “What kind of pancakes did you get?”

“Your favorite, obviously,” he nods, handing you the warm box and a fork. There’s something about the way he crosses his arms, as though he’s just waiting to catch your reaction when you open it. Why does he look so fucking proud of himself?

“I never told you my favorite pancakes.” You raise a brow. The only thing you told him was your favorite pancake place. But they have like a million different options, ranging from classic (blueberry and chocolate chip) to fancy (tiramisu and that edible gold stuff). There’s no way he can magically guess your favorite pancake.

“Just open it.” He gives you his idea of a “playful shove” on the shoulders, which would’ve knocked you over with the pancakes if he hadn’t grabbed a hold of your wrist. He was definitely that annoying kid on the playground who chased around all the girls he had a crush on.

You mumble on about him being too rough as you open the box. To your surprise, it’s strawberries and whipped cream drenched in red syrup on top of a fat stack of pancakes—aka your favorite pancakes.

You look up from the mountain of strawberries and tilt your head at the boy like a confused puppy.

“I asked the waitress with the purple hair what you normally order,” he explains.

“Okay, but she doesn’t know me by name. How’d you describe me to her?”

He takes a few steps closer until you get a whiff of that woodsy cologne you missed so much. You feel the tips of his fingers trace along your collarbone. He’s not so rough anymore. In fact, the warm caress just barely grazes your skin, as if to tease your body. You’ve always lowkey looked forward to that tiny bit of warmth while working on his tattoos. Maybe he’s always been aware.

“I called you a cutie with a bunny tattoo.” His nose scrunches when he smiles this time, giving your skin one last poke. “She knew it was you when I showed her the one on my hand.”

Of course Jeon Jungkook walked into your favorite pancake place pretending to be your boyfriend. Of course he did something as embarrassing as showing off what appears to be matching tattoos. All for the sake of bringing you your favorite pancakes on an otherwise shitty summer night.

“Now she’ll think we have matching tattoos,” you say softly, shoving his chest. “How am I supposed to show my face in there ever again?”

“Hey, I don’t have a problem with the whole matching tattoos thing.” He puts his hands up to protect his chest from your wrath in case you’re feeling feisty. “I’ll just pick it up for you again.”

You’re not feeling feisty, so you give the boy a thumbs-up and bring him over to the couch in the back corner of the studio where you usually eat or take naps.

At long last, you stab a piece of pancake and strawberry and coat it in whipped cream before shoving it into your mouth. It’s delicious. “Is it mean if I say I’m glad the Hawaii wedding was canceled?”

“Because you’d be lonely without me here?” he teases.

“No, it’s because you bought me free pancakes, you simp,” you grin, handing off the fork to the simp so he too can get a taste of heaven. He passes you the soju in return even though you’re already feeling a little giggly.

“It’s not free,” he denies. “I’m supposed to be here for another tattoo, remember?”

After a tiny sip, you set the green bottle aside and grab Jungkook’s hand with both of yours. It looks so silly with all your tattoos surrounding the cute little bunny in the middle. He’s silly for letting you do that to him.

“I don’t think there’s any more room on your hand for another one,” you giggle. “Where am I gonna tattoo you next?”

You wonder how many tattoos he has under his clothes. Maybe he’s already got them all over the place. Then, eventually, his body will run out of space and you won’t be able to tattoo him anymore. That would suck. You kinda like his company.

“What about a lip tattoo?” you chirp, tapping on his lower lip with your index finger. When he doesn’t swat you away, you tug down on his lip ring to check for a hidden tattoo there. Nothing. “I have one.”

“You do?” His eyes immediately fall on your red strawberry lips. You pull down your lower one for him to see tiny black letters that read “bad girl.”

“My ex did it. I was supposed to tattoo ‘bad boy’ on his lip, but he chickened out,” you shrug. “Isn’t that crazy?”

“Wait, I thought you can’t stand matching tattoos?” He’s such a good listener. Boyfriend material.

“I didn’t have anything against them up until that point,” you hum as you play with his wavy hair. The perm is cute on him. “But that’s basically when my perspective changed.”

That’s when you lost faith in men. When you grew to hate the idea of marriage. When you started rejecting every guy who approached you, even if he was half as hot as Jeon Jungkook.

“Well fuck your ex,” he frowns. Yeah, fuck him. No, wait. Your ex isn’t the one you want to fuck right now. “You’ve convinced me. The next tattoo I’m getting is a lip tattoo.”

“Got any design ideas for what you want there?” You climb into his lap, cup his chin with one hand, and play with his lip piercings some more. You’ve never been this up close and personal with Jungkook, but you like it. You can already feel his cock hardening beneath you through your leggings.

“Your lips,” he says without hesitation. Cheesy, but you’ll take any excuse right now to close the gap between you and him.

Just like that, something clicks in your body, and your lips just find their way to his. You’re not sure how much of it is alcohol and how much is your actual feelings for the boy, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when the kiss tastes like strawberry pancakes. It’s perfect.

You throw your arms over his shoulders as he kisses back. He’s already got his hands slipped up the back of your little tank top. 

Your hips start to roll against him.

“Should we close the blinds?” he asks against your lips. “Unless you like an audience.”

You glance at the window. The sun is finally going down, but of course people are still walking their dogs. Maybe they didn’t get the memo that it’s officially fucking hours, not dog walking hours.

Normally, you’d be all for closing the blinds and turning out the lights, but your ass is nice and comfy in his lap and you’d rather not change that. Plus the back of the couch should hide 90% of what’s going on.

You shed your tank top off and toss it onto the coffee table next to the unfinished pancakes. His big eyes flick to your lacy black bralette. 

“Let them watch.” You press your lips into his neck and suck away like a vampire. The hickeys you’re about to leave him with will have to make do as temporary tattoos for now. You’re not gonna have time to tattoo him tonight.

“You sure you want people to see you so desperate and needy like this?” he asks as you wiggle out of your leggings. His hands immediately find your ass and give it a good squeeze.

“I’m not needy,” you whine, your naughty hand feeling how large his cock is through his joggers.

“I think you’re pretty needy, Y/N.” Two fingers slip past your thong and spread the wet lust between your legs. He has the biggest smirk on his face as your body squirms to his touch. You do everything in your power to hold back a gasp. “Do you want me to fuck you that badly?”

Yes, but you’re not going to admit it. Ever.

“No way,” you answer with confidence. He helps you out of his lap and you let him prop you up on your hands and knees so he can get a good look at your ass. “This is just my way of thanking you for the pancakes since we both know you aren’t getting that lip tattoo tonight.”

“The lip tattoo can wait.” You feel your thong drop to the couch where it belongs. Two very strong hands hold you at the waist. “You’re my number one priority tonight.”

As he fills you with his cock, you’re already melting to the heat between your legs. Your weak little arms lose all their strength. You reach for your fluffy white cloud pillow to muffle your moans and let him do all the work from behind.

The tight hold he has on you is a mix of possessiveness and all the sexual tension built up over the past two months. You wonder how many times he thought about bending you over and fucking you silly in the midst of getting a cute little frog tattoo. You’ve seen the way his lustful eyes look at you during his appointments. You’re not that oblivious.

“Nice ass tattoo, by the way.” He pinches the bit of skin with two pink butterflies. You’d always regretted that one because not everyone shares the same appreciation for it, but that tiny love pinch made it all worth it. “You and your cute little tattoos.”

He slides in and out, pounding your deepest spot, and drawing a pathetic whimper from your throat every few seconds. Doesn’t help that he has a finger or two rubbing away at your swollen little clit. That’s when you realize you’ve been missing out on amazing sex for far too long. Seven whole tattoos. That’s how long it took before you gave in.

He’s already rougher now than the playful shove that nearly knocked you over earlier. Good.

This is exactly what you need after such a boring work week.

“What would you be doing now if I were taking wedding pictures in Hawaii?” His voice is getting breathier. He’s working hard out there.

“Gagging at all the romantic shit you’d be sending me.” Even if he weren’t physically there with you, you know he’d still find a way to be annoying. He’d let you know he’s still thinking of you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you gag tonight.” You don’t have to turn around to know he’s got that dumb smirk on his face. “Maybe another time. If you’re into that.”

Your response is a soft moan into the pillow. The thought of his cock shoved down your throat isn’t as repulsive as you would’ve thought two months ago. Giving head isn’t usually your thing, but you’re open to trying it with him. You’re glad he can’t see you lick your lips.

He doesn’t slow down either, instead picking up the pace and going harder. Your fingers dig into the pillow, your whole body dripping in pleasure. It feels too good.

“Mm, Jungkook,” you pant like a poor puppy with your ass up in the air. Your little clit can’t take much more of his fingers. You’re so close.

“Thought you couldn’t stand me,” he teases as you tighten around him. He’s so annoying! During sex, too. “And now you’re about to cum for me?”

“Fuck you,” you gasp as the wave of pleasure passes through you. His fingers and cock help you ride out the high. He’s lucky he’s a sweet guy with a strong sex game. Otherwise you wouldn’t have fallen for his annoying ass.

As soon as he pulls out, he flips you onto your back, staring down at you with his cock in hand. A few extra pumps along his length is all he needs to get his release and drizzle your belly with his creamy glaze.

He climbs over you to give you a soft peck on the lips. You’ve been with a lot of fuck boys before, but you can’t remember any of them kissing you once the sex was done and over with.

This boy is different.

He lets you lie there, basking in the afterglow as he searches the studio for a clean towel. When he finally gets ahold of one, he offers a hand to help you sit up and gets you cleaned up.

“All jokes aside, I’m happy you were here tonight,” you say in a tiny voice. “Fuck Hawaii weddings.”

He chuckles in his usual adorkable way. “You should come to a wedding with me sometime—when I’m not working, of course. Maybe you won’t hate them as much as you think.”

You lean in for another kiss. There’s still a hint of pancake on his tongue, but it's even sweeter. “Sure.”

The corners of his lips curve upward in satisfaction. The annoying little shit is about to jump out. You can feel it. (The annoying little shit does not jump out.)

“Now finish your pancakes,” he smiles. For once, it’s not him looking all smug and shit. And it’s really endearing.

Somehow, he just keeps proving you wrong. In a good way.

You look at your favorite pancakes on the table and wave them off. “Nah, I’m good.” Once more, you scoot your ass onto him and press a finger to his lip. “I think I like the taste of you better.”

[harfanfare]

Idia drabble, fluff, lots of couple banter

Your wishlist containing released games is empty.

In the next several minutes after saving a title to one, you can expect a notification that the game is getting downloaded, and a mere seconds after that—several messages from your boyfriend.

“thought u would never play it lol”

“weren't you supposed to be studying??”

He sends a meme degrading your hierarchy of values as if he were any better. It is followed by a request.

“stream it to me when you play it”

And you do, after thanking him yet chiding him for wasting too much money on you without a second thought. His reply was a string of emojis and guarantee that he is doing it all for himself, because “educating you on the topic of latest games is his duty” and he cares about “the boyfriend points”.

“I hope my love’o’meter for u was broken by all that pampering lmao”

“waiting for my cg to load up…”

[NAME]: “not enough affection points”

“damn”

“i need a walkthroughyt to this route”

Idia has you join a voice channel, with you sharing your screen. Playing a game in a separate dorm is a whole different experience than having him beside you, with his hands almost trembling to grab your controller if you couldn’t get past a certain level.

He would always wait for you to ask him for help, though. Then he could let the feeling of self-satisfaction sink in as he easily guided your character to another enemy to slash.

If he only has you on the voice chat, you might be able to finish the game almost fully by yourself.

You can hear the soft sound of his keyboard as he plays something as well. He divides his attention between you and his entertainment, and he throws in commentary to your playthrough, teasing you when you can’t find a secret key to the special gate, bullying you when you find the puzzles too hard, or when you pick the wrong dialogue option.

At some point, you might try to (playfully) mute his microphone, but you can only have eight seconds of silence before he hacks into the options.

“No need to be jealous of my gaming knowledge,” he exclaims, and you know he has that big stupid grin on his face. You huff, and he hums. “But if you want me to help, all you need to do is just ask.”

“I want to go through this game myself!”

“Okay, sure. But you know you have already missed the opportunity for the best ending, no?” He laughs. “That’s what you get for muting me, kitten.”

No need to spoil the ending just to get back at me, you’d love to say, but you learned that the shy boy who couldn’t hold your gaze several months ago is actually a big tease. You must’ve grown too much on him, as he would have continued the bickering even if you showed up in his room. No social anxiety towards you—that’s a bit of a shame, he was cute when you first started dating.

…Well, Idia you know now is a cutie as well, even if he can be very annoying sometimes.

“Enough. I’m going to play my otome games, bye.”

You log out, and shut the stream, chuckling all the time. A funny feeling tingled your heart, like always when you won (or have you?) in banter in Idia: your heart is warm enough to probably melt through the ribcage, but a subtle alarm rings in your head. Idia will probably take revenge for this.

He must already be in distress. He doesn’t like you playing otome games alone, as if you could have ever preferred a 2D boy over Idia. The thought makes you laugh.

You plop on your bed, unlocking your phone and tapping an icon of the name game you’ve installed. Although playing it with Idia would have been funnier, you are going to play him just out of spite.

…And after that, you will send him a wall of text about those handsome characters, because he needs to be updated on your current obsessions.

The title screen appears before everything crashes and the screen goes black. Several messages in neon-blue futuristic font colour appear one by one.

An error has occurred.

Caught exception:

Traceback (most recent call last):

File “characters”, line 46, in script

File “stats”, line 153, in script

File “story”, line 665, in script

File “achievements”, line 411, in log.1

File “backup_data”, line 139, in log

To continue:

“[Name]-san. Please come to our dorm. My brother is moping (so he won’t be finishing his project anytime soon, which is, really bad) and I would appreciate you having mercy on him.

Once you come, I will restore your data! It’s a promise :>

— ORTHO”

…Damn those Shrouds.

[featki]

Lemon boy !

— pairing: 西村力 x reader — contains: slight angst, fluff — now playing: 一子青葉

Lemon boy - Cavetown

Part 2

"There once was a bittersweet man and they called him Lemon Boy. He was growing in my garden, and I pulled him out by his hair like a weed"

Riki Nishimura.

You were new to school and he was appointed as your guide. You tried to make friends with him but he wasn't very talkative.

Despite that, you were still nice.

You'd see him in class, which was all of them as you guys shared the same itinerary. Every time you spotted his eyes you'd walk over and smile, trying to strike up a conversation, he never had it.

He'd stare at you blankly, and walk away quickly. Not wasting any time to say goodbye.

You thought you got close when he finally replied to your nuance but he only let out a short "Okay" and walked away for what felt like the billionth time

"And like weeds do, he only came and grew back again, so I figured this time, I might as well let him be"

You were curious as to why he was so blank all the time so you followed him through his day. Not in a creepy way, he knew you were there, but he didn't tell you to leave so you continued.

The whole day he didn't speak to anyone.

He ate alone, walked to class alone, and studied in the library alone. Never once did you see him talk to a friend.

-

The next day you asked around.

"He doesn't have any friends."

"He's weird..."

"He never talks, it freaks me out"

"All I know is he's an asshole"

Mixed with

"Leave him alone, it's a waste of time trying to be friends with him."

"Why are you talking to him anyway?"

The weirdest was when a girl said "Don't talk to him...You'll be cursed for eternity." and walked away laughing.

Intrigued you followed him again the next day.

Not once did he bully anyone like everyone made you think. He didn't even look up from the ground most of the time.

You got tired of all the same replies people were giving you, not even actual intel on him, just insults and bad-mouthing. Until one girl told you to ask an old friend of his, Jake Sim.

You met him in his algebra class, which you conveniently shared with him. "Jake!" He looked at you with surprise, probably because a stranger knew his name, but you didn't let him ask questions before you started interrogating him.

The questions went on for about a minute before he got a chance to answer, but luckily he answered them without questioning why you wanted to know. Because that would've been another long minute.

"Uhhhhhh, it's confusing. He was being bullied for a while" He paused "Not like serious bullying but they told him he was annoying, talked too much, etcetera. You get the drill"

You frowned at him

"Well, why aren't you guys friends anymore?"

He sighed and looked away kinda guilty-like "He turned like... bitter. You know? I know it's not his fault but it got hard to be around him. Almost sour like a lemon" Jake mumbled the last part and looked down at his paper, only to look back up at you and see a scowl on your face, "like a lemon?"

"yeah, lemon boy. That's what everyone calls him"

You were thankful for the info but annoyed so you left without saying bye, grimacing at him on your way out

"Weird..." Jake thought

"Lemon Boy and me started to get along together"

You weren't going to let the mean things people said, or the warnings they advised, stop you from trying to be his friend.

He wasn't mean to you, if he was that would be a different story, but he's not. So you persevered

You continued to talk to him in every class, his chair being right behind yours made it easy. You'd talk his ear off during break and even started sitting at lunch with him.

The first day you did, you had seen him sitting alone at a table in the far back, right by the doors. You had sat in front of him, he looked up at you as you started talking.

This time he didn't get up and walk away (Though you wondered if it was just cause he was too hungry to walk away from his food), but rather he just sat there. He wasn't necessarily acknowledging you but he wasn't ignoring you either. He'd occasionally look up at you then go back to eating his food which was good enough for you.

"I helped him plant his seeds and we'd mow the lawn in bad weather"

At the end of the day, walking in the halls, you overheard the English teacher lecturing Riki about his dropping grade.

Telling him to either work harder or get a tutor. Even the teachers were mean to him.

It wasn't that Riki wasn't trying, nor was he dumb. Literature just wasn't his strong suit, and that's where you came in.

You barged into the room, happy and energetic as always.

The teacher pointed to you "Ah, here. She's doing wonderfully, why don't you have her tutor you?" You looked at Riki and smiled. The plan is going perfectly.

Riki on the other hand looked at you, then the teacher, then the ground, and walked out past you. The teacher glared at him and shook her head, looking back at her paper.

You simply just shut the door and followed Riki, like you had been for the past 2 weeks now. "I really don't mind tutoring you by the way! I love English" You ended it with a sweet chuckle

Riki just looked at you, took a deep breath in, and nodded.

He continued walking and you continued following him, assuming you were going to the library to study.

You were right, and when you got there Riki took a chair in the far back of the library, not without a few stares as he walked through.

Sitting down with him you didn't want to waste time.

You pulled your books out and started. English was your favorite subject so you were very excited which made you talk even faster then usual.

Riki's mouth slightly agape he muttered quietly, "Slow down please.." He looked up at you, "Just a little" he said even more muttered than the first sentence.

You, shocked at hearing his voice for the first time, sat there with your mouth open. It made him nervous so he looked down at his book and started flipping to the page you were on.

He let out a little "sorry." which you quickly said was okay, and told him not to apologize to which he nodded.

It was nice hearing his voice, kind of deep, and super quiet. It was clear he was shy cause it was a little shaky but you thought his voice was cute so you took what you could get.

He didn't say anything for the rest of the session, simply just nodding and letting out a small "Oh" here and there.

7pm, when you guys were finally done, you asked "Next week after school?" as you grabbed your bag and gave him a smile.

"mm," he replied, nodding.

You gave him one last smile and wished him goodnight.

"Goodnight Riki"

If only you had stayed for a moment longer, you would've seen the slight smile that made its way to Riki's face.

"It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him"

The weekly tutoring sessions continued, and so did talking to him in class all day, so did sitting with him at lunch, and so did following him around school.

You even started sitting right next to him at lunch, rather then sitting across from him.

It made him nervous at first but eventually, he started scooting closer to you.

Rather than just looking back between you and his food, he started reacting

"But it was so annoying cause he was like "It's my house if I want to eat the ice cream, then I can eat the ice cream" but man I bought it" You complained before stuffing a spoonful of rice in your mouth, not expecting Riki to reply at all but he let out a small laugh

It was the cutest thing you ever heard.

It was soft but real. Not some fake laugh, he seemed genuinely kind of happy.

You smiled at him but looked away when he looked back at you and finished your story.

Riki started replying to all the little stories you told him.

Whether it was his adorable little laughs or small "yeah?"'s, he was warming up.

"So I got myself a citrus friend"

Riki started talking first.

Poking your back in class to tell you a dumb joke, giving you little notes, telling his own little stories, ranting about his weekend.

At one point he even asked if you wanted to walk home with him.

You smiled big and loudly said yes, to which he replied with a laugh and said okay.

From that point on you guys started walking to and from school together every day, you spent all day at school together and you even started hanging out after school. You were completely inseparable at this point.

He was the sweetest person ever, he was kind, caring, gentle, and he had the cutest smile ever.

You didn't understand how people could hate such a sweet boy, but you were glad this lemon boy was your friend.

@ featki

[sweetlittleneptune]

"You speak French??"

The translations were made by me, as I'm a native French speaker! tho, if you have any issues/questions/see any mistakes, don't be afraid to point them out!

The fact that you never admitted to speaking French to the residents of the mansion was a simple lie of omission. You didn’t think it was that important at first, and then you also noticed how much of an advantage that was. This meant you could spy on some of residents without much trouble at all. Sadly, the charade couldn’t last forever.

NAPOLEON

He had a habit of rambling in French to himself. Random thoughts, most of them unimportant and simple little reminders to do something later. But every once in a while, he would mumble something that caught your attention, and you’d have to hold in your laughter. He had to stop though, once he realized you understood what he was saying and was absolutely humiliated.

It had been a rough day, and the man was frustrated. Between the bickering kids and the eccentric residents, he was practically boiling. That was reason enough to be mumbling insults and such.

“C’est juste des cons. Pas capable de se la fermer, tous inutiles.”

(They’re just idiots. Can’t shut up, useless.)

And it came out before you could even think about it. You just had to.

“Quand même, c'est un peu méchant M. Napoléon. Mais je l’admets… ils sont un peu lourds.”

(Well, that’s a bit rude Mr. Napoleon. But I’ve got to admit… they are a bit annoying)

The look on his face was absolutely priceless. Surprise, confusion, worry, all of it. Napoleon opened his mouth once, then closed it. he reopened it again and closed it once more. Third time’s the charm they say…

“Since when…?”

“Ah, that’s my little secret. Just don’t tell the other, will you?”

Suspicion crossed his face.

“Why?”

“You know, it’s a great advantage to have. Would be a shame to lose it.”

“You’re a devil Nunuche, but a smart one I’ll admit.”

And with a chuckle he left the room

COMTE DE SAINT-GERMAIN

You intended to tell him at first. When he started bringing you to all those dinners, galas, and parties for the aristocrats of the city. You wanted to speak with him and the other attendants. But as soon as they heard the accent in your “bonsoir”, they switched to English, and you rolled with it for some reason. Now it had been months, and you felt it would be weird to start speaking French now.

You were used to being ignored in conversations too. None of it was on purpose and you couldn’t take it personally when Comte was such a popular man to begin with! What you weren’t used to, though, was being disrespected right in your face as if you weren’t there.

The first comment had been something along the lines of “you finally found someone to give you a son!”

Your husband was quick to answer that he had chosen you because you were you. It had nothing to do with kids.

The second almost made you open your mouth. But it was no use. Comte made very sure to let him know he was crossing a limit and ended the conversation there.

“Some people lack manners, it seems. No use wasting more time on this unimportant discussion.”

You simply nodded and followed.

But then you wanted a little treat to eat, and the buffet was on the other side of the room. So, you left Comte for a moment to grab something. Sadly, the same man from earlier was there, chatting away with someone you didn’t know. As soon as he saw you, you knew something unpleasant would happen.

“Elle n’est rien de bien spécial, mais j’imagine qu’elle doit être particulièrement bonne au lit si le Comte de Saint-Germain a décidé qu’elle était bonne à marier. »

(she’s nothing special, but I guess she’s particularly good in bed if the Count of Saint-Germain has decided to make her his wife.)

You pondered for a moment if you should even grace him with an answer. It wouldn’t do any good, you knew that. But if the man had the galls to say it, he surely could listen to your answer, no?

“Monsieur, j’apprécierais sincèrement que vous vous absteniez de m’insulter en ma présence. Et puis, ce sont de riches paroles, venant de l’homme dont la femme est reconnue pour avoir plusieurs amants. Au moins, l’un de nous sait satisfaire son partenaire… "

(Sir, I would appreciate if you could hold back from insulting me in my presence. And this is rich, coming from the man whose wife is known to have several lovers. At least, one of us can satisfy their spouse…)

Red rose to the man’s face.

“Eh bien, je crois que le message est clair! 

(Well, I think the message is clear!)

Comte’s voice made you jump in your place. You hadn’t heard him coming at all! You turned to look at him with shyness in your eyes, a bit worried he would scowl you for your action. But all he did was look at you with pride.

As you left though, he did ask where you learned to speak French.

“A while back, in my world.”

JEAN D'ARC

That night you were staying up late to clean up after one of Leonardo’s raids of the library. It was rotten work for sure, but someone had to do it and Sebastian was finishing up polishing of the silverware. So here you were, going through piles of books left on tables.

Time passed and after a while of not hearing any noise, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit down and read for a few minutes. There was a book that had caught your attention while cleaning up. It was a little book of French fables. Some of which you remembered reading back in school when you were young. Slowly, the stories caught your attention for good and the world around you faded.

That’s when Jean entered the room, in the hopes of finding some peace and some books to help him learn to write and read. Still hooked on your little island of nostalgia, you didn’t hear him at all. And him, not wanting to bother you, stayed in his little corner of the library.

An hour must have passed before your eyes left the pages of the book. But when you did, you were surprised to find you weren’t alone anymore. And you felt a bit cheap about being caught slacking on your job.

“I didn’t hear you come in, Jean. What are you doing here?”

“I’m trying to read this book. But it’s hard, I don’t understand much…”

The poor man was trying to read “Les Misérables”, of course he was having a hard time understanding what all those fancy words meant! You held your chuckle in and handed him your fable book.

“You might find this one easier to read. You picked a rather daunting book to try to learn.”

“Oh but… you know I speak French mademoiselle. Your book-” You smiled.

“Take a look at the cover. What does it say?”

It took him a minute to decipher the sounds and the words, but he managed to read the title out:

“Les fables de La Fontaine.” Jean paused. “It’s in French…”

“Yes, it is.”

“You can read French?” there was curiosity in his eyes.

“Oui, mais pas que. Je le parle aussi.”

(Yes, but that’s not all. I can speak it too.)

“Je ne savais pas. Vous ne l’avez jamais dit.”

(I didn’t know. You never told us)

“It’s my little secret,” you answered with a smirk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should finish cleaning Leo’s mess.”

“Merci.”

“Bienvenue!”

[mellifiedprincess]

someone requested more short!reader, so i wrote this with that in mind. i will be writing something that goes into a bit more detail about the reader being a short queen. anyway, hope you like it!

Ethan Landry x Short!Reader

Always Lurking and Stalking

When you and Ethan started dating he was always keeping a close eye on you. Not to say he didn’t before, because he certainly did. He just hated the fact that your friends didn’t really pay much mind to you when they went out. Always leaving you to fend for yourself. And while you didn’t like for people to think you were completely helpless, it still felt nice to have someone care for you so much.

And Ethan just felt like he needed to protect you from everything and everyone.

You were all currently at another frat party, hosted by none other than date rape Frankie. You were sitting with Mindy on the couch, very much tipsy, Anika and Tara dancing away under the pretty flashing lights, and Chad was trying to talk Ethan into doing shots with him.

Ethan, of course, kept declining. It was an unspoken rule he had made up when you two started dating. If you were out with them, he wasn’t drinking. He wanted to make sure you had someone looking out for you at all times, and while he loved his friends, he did not trust them.

“I want another drink!” Your sudden outburst barely even registered in Mindys ears, she was watching Anika with a big grin on her face, paying you no mind at all.

You get up, leaving Mindy to stare at her girlfriend, and make your way to the kitchen.

Ethan watching you closely, immediately taking notice of the drunken sway of your figure. “Y/N! Where are you going, baby?” You turn when you hear Ethan call out for you, and point to the kitchen. You smile sweetly, before Ethan gives you thumbs up and turns back to Chad.

“Dude, for the last time, I don’t want to do shots with you.” He pushes Chads hand away, glancing past his shoulder trying to keep his focus on you.

“You’re no fun anymore. I’m sure Y/N’s fine, man.” That earns an annoyed eye roll from Ethan. “Yeah, well you wouldn’t know because you never look out for her. You and everyone else are always too busy getting shitfaced.”

“What? No way! I’m always lurking and stalking when you least expect it.” Chad slaps a fist to his own chest, trying to solidify his words. Ethan only rolls his eyes again. Because he knew, and Chad knew, that Chad was full of shit.

Ethan couldn’t even count the amount of times he’s found you by yourself, completely wasted and barely functional, at these parties. And it made him angrier and angrier every time.

There were even a few times where the group just left the party without you. Forgetting you were even with them because of how drunk they all were. Of course, Ethan was never with them at those times. So, when you would call him and tell him what happened, he would drop whatever the was doing, even if he was sound asleep, and go get you.

He knew you weren’t totally incapable, but you weren’t exactly the tallest, or strongest girl either.

He just loved you too much to see something happen to you, because no one was paying any attention.

And he’s glad too, because when he hears you shout his name from the kitchen, he wastes no time, slightly pushing Chad out of the way, trying to get to you. He could hear the panic in your voice as soon as you scream for him, and it makes him want to throw up.

As soon as he makes it into the kitchen, his eyes find you instantly. You were pushed against a counter, some guy gripping your wrist tightly, trying to pull you out of the room. “Ethan! Help me!” Your eyes lock with his, and he can see how terrified you are, as you blink back tears.

“Hey! Get your fucking hands off of her!” The guy turns around eyeing Ethan up and down. At first glance, he doesn’t seem that intimidating, but that’s because no one, except you, knew what was hiding underneath the long sleeve shirt he was wearing. “We’re busy dude, fuck off.”

Ethan’s never been one for violence, but right now he wanted nothing more than to take one of the kitchen knives, that seems to be staring into his soul, and slit this guys throat. Instead, he rips the guys hand from you, and gently pushes you to stand behind him. You clutch onto his shirt, still scared out of your mind, and Ethan reaches his hand back to take yours.

“Touch her again, and I will fucking kill you.” The calmness in Ethan’s voice was more than threatening enough, but this guy just wouldn’t back off. “Whatever, she was asking for it dude.”

You didn’t even register what the guy said in the moment, but you felt Ethan tense up before putting all of his weight into the punch he threw at the guy. The crunching sound itself was horrifying, but glancing around Ethan, you were met with the sight of blood oozing from his nose.

You shouldn’t have giggled, but you couldn’t help it. “You should have listened when I told you my boyfriend would kick your ass.”

For a second Ethan forgot you were even still there, too focused on the idiot in front of him, who was now walking away, crying. He turns around to face you now, hands cupping your face with concern. “Are you okay, baby? Did he hurt you?” You only smile up at him, “I’m so okay, now! That was so hot, E!”

Ethan blows out a huff, relieved you’re okay, but still very much angry about the whole situation. He pushes your head to his chest, leaving his hand to cradle it, trying to calm himself down. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He whispers more to himself than you, of course you still hear it and squeeze him even tighter. “You wouldn’t let anything happen to me, I know it.”

Ethan’s lips find the crown of your head and places a sweet kiss there. You lift your face up, chin resting on his chest, and you can still see how worried he is.

“I’m okay, E.” You try to reassure him, only getting a small nod in return. His eyes aren’t meeting yours and you already know what’s bothering him.

“Ethan, look at me.” You feel much more sober now, as you take his chin in your hand and pull his face down to meet your eyes. “It’s not your fault. You were watching me the whole time, so stop blaming yourself for something you couldn’t control.” “If i would have just came with you-“

“But you didn’t because you respect me enough to let me have my space.” He knew you were right, he just couldn’t let that feeling go. The one where he was scared out of his mind when he heard you scream for him.

“I just never want to hear you scared like that again.” You smile softly at that, standing on your tiptoes to place a kiss to his lips. “Well, I know I have you to protect me if something like that ever happens again. Nothing to be scared of now.”

Ethan feels a lot calmer, something only you’re able to do.

“There you are, E! Man you have got to try this drink some guy just handed to me. It literally tastes like rainbows.”. You watch Ethan roll his eyes, no telling how many times he’s already done that tonight, because Chad was totally sloshed.

“How about we all go home? I think you’ve had enough rainbows for tonight.” As Ethan moves to push Chad out of the kitchen, Chad stops and looks at you. “Holy shit, how long have you been standing there Y/N/N? You should totally try this drink.”

“Oh my god, Chad! Shut up and move.” Ethan pushes him forward again, and reaches out for your hand, which you gladly take. “We need new friends, baby.” You giggle at his comment and shake your head.

“They may not know how to ‘read the room’ but they’re good friends, ya know when they’re not completely wasted.” Ethan only pulls you closer to his body.

“You give them too much credit, sweetheart. Always looking for the best in people.”

There’s a comfortable silence after that, seeing most of the group gathered at the door, you make your way over to them. “Where’s Chad? He was literally in front of us the whole time.” Tara only points behind you two, making you quickly snap your head around.

“Jesus christ.” “What the fuck?” You laugh out.

“Where did he get a turtle from?”

“Chad! Put the turtle down, and get your ass over here.”

[chiffaust]

𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗𝗡'𝗧 𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨. — Amagi Rinne x reader

⸻ your overtime had forced you to stay back away longer than you'd like. Coming home past midnight, you were sure Rinne would be asleep already, but he wasn't — he was thinking of you, perhaps.

xx. c : fluff — no pronouns are used to describe reader, completely gender neutral. Soft rinne moment like he's really soft & he likes you a lot. the beginning is bit suggestive?

note . this has been rotting in my drafts since december last year, so apologies if there's some grammatical mistakes here i am not proofreading this :3

There are sleepless nights with him — perhaps on on a rainy day you'll often stay up late together, huddling close to each other for warmth in silence or during nights where he doesn't feel like sleeping — he'll make it your problem too and keep you up all night with him. (interpret that however you like.)

Yet today was rather different. He feels a certain emptiness inside his heart, all alone in the bed with his own thoughts forced to be kept to himself while the clock ticks every second he's awake. It isn't like him to feel this sad or sentimental, is it? The Rinne Amagi, the crazed gambler of Crazy:B, all alone with nothing but thoughts left keeping him awake at night.

Luckily, you came by just at the right time. Work had forced you to overtime more than you'd even like — it's way past midnight; at this time of the hour, you were sure Rinne was in the room, snoring loudly but you heard not even a sound from your shared bedroom and that rose an eyebrow of suspicion from you.

You didn't waste time though. You quickly put your stuff on the table and walked towards the bedroom — without hesitation twisting the doorknob open as you gently push forward into the room.

"Rinne...?" You called out, unsure whether he's in here or not because of how quiet he is. From the dimly lit light of the living room entering the room, you see him motionlessly in bed without even moving a muscle; what's even concerning is that he's still wide awake.

"Rinne, are you okay?" You ask again, slowly walking towards the bed and kneeling down besides on the floor beside it while gently poking his cheek.

"Rinne." You called out again when he didn't respond. You don't know whether he's doing this intentionally or not, but you're really not enjoying it very much.

"Rinne!" You whisper yelled, and finally he seems to respond. A loud sigh escaped his lips as he slowly shifts to his side to turn and look at you.

You look straight into his eyes and your eyes narrowed; softening at the sadness you saw the beneath blue ones. You weren't sure exactly why he's this sad, but it made you feel guilty about it even if you've done nothing wrong. Seeing him who is usually so loud and annoying sad in the middle of the night makes you uncomfortably shitty.

"Took your sweet time comin' home, did you?" He asks, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Are you mad at me for coming home late...?" You ask, your body tenses up slightly at the uncertainty guilt you felt, but you swallowed it all, not wanting to make it seem like you're getting the wrong idea yet.

"Not really, 'm really glad I have someone reliable like ya to call my sweetheart." His frown then suddenly itched into a smirk as he wraps his arms around you in a surprise attack and dragged you into bed with him without even thinking about letting you at least change into your pajamas first.

"Rinne, come on...!" You giggled, trying to squirm away from his tight hug that kept you still with him on the bed.

"Ya kept your boyfriend waiting for so long and have the audacity to complain when he wants to spend time with you?" Rinne replied, squeezing you tighter in his affectionate tight hug while he presses soft kisses all over your face.

"At least let me change clothes first..." You tried to compromise while being suffocated with his overbearing kisses. On an occasion; on nights when he couldn't sleep — he'll give you all of the affection you could ever asked for that it becomes overbearing. But he is an overbearing person from the start; just as annoying as the first time you've fallen in love with him you can't help but let yourself melt into his affection. This is really what you needed after a long day at work.

"So, just stay with me for a while, 'kay? At least until I fall asleep. I couldn't sleep without ya by my side." His arms only tightened around your waist as he pulls you closer to his body and rests his head on your shoulder, inhaling your scent happily without complaints anymore.

Neither do you have any complaints left to speak of. It felt too nice, having him this affectionate towards you like this. Maybe... You'll stay with him for a while.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: starstruck

pairing: jameson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you’re an actress and you’ve got through a few auditions got your dream roll, the next thing that comes up is a chemistry test that doesn’t quite go as you had planned

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, mild swearing, really intense make out session, mention of sexual tension

a/n: this is the jameson equivalent to paparazzi for grayson, thanks for reading 🤍🤍

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @peterlcsingwendy @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77

You sit alone at the bar, drinking a margarita. Your friend had bailed on you last minute but seen as you were already dressed up you decided to go anyway. Why waste all that effort? Besides you deserved this. Tomorrow is a big day, you needed some time to sit back, relax, enjoy some drinks and breathe. Mid sip of your margarita, you catch the eye of someone across the room. He has tousled dark hair, unruly yet it suited him quite well and striking green eyes. Those green eyes sent something through you, the ghost of a shiver down your spine that sent warmth into your body. There was something about those eyes… You quickly look away, not letting your gaze linger for too long, you need to stay focussed. You stare at your drink, your fingers subconsciously playing with the glass as you think about the future that may come if tomorrow plays out the way you would like it to.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

His voice is low and alluring and reels you in from deep thought. It might’ve made you jump, if you weren’t so fixated on where your mind was running off to. You look up to see it’s the man you’d made eye contact with previously. Close up, he looks even more attractive. Steady jawline, wicked smile, bold eyebrows, striking features. He is quite tall, even when he sits beside you it’s noticeable. He’s really very gorgeous and at any other point in your life, meeting a guy like him would’ve been perfect. But now wasn’t the time for guys, now was the time to focus on getting your career back on track.

“No thank you,” you say, a certain sharpness in your tone. You wanted to make it very clear you were saying no.

“Are you sure?” he asks, one of his dashing eyebrows raised a little.

Oh… so he was the stubborn type, this should be entertaining.

“I’ve got one,” you say, holding up your half-empty margarita.

His mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and he nods, ordering himself something. His drink arrives in a matter of minutes, that’s when he turns and says, “I couldn’t help but notice you from over there.”

His head jerks to where he had previously been standing. You decide you fancy playing with him a little, seeing how easy it’d be to break his cool, flirty facade. Some men needed to be humbled and he seems like one of them.

“Oh yeah, and why’s that,” you ask, expecting a delayed answer or not one at all.

“Because you’re breathtaking,” he answers almost immediately, staring into my eyes.

You’d expected him to fumble but he’d turned the tables. He’s bold and unafraid, vulnerability didn’t scare him. You searched for a witty, uninterested reply but your brain is still hooked in the compliment from this handsome stranger, “I’m not interested,” you blurt out. The words fall from your mouth without you even thinking.

“Straight to the point,” he coughs, his ego probably a little bruised, “that’s cute.”

“Don’t call me cute,” you scowl at him. No better way to deter a man than scowling, but he didn’t seem to be too deterred.

“I could make you interested you know,” he shrugs, “if you gave me a chance?”

“The smell of male desperation is so…” you take a moment to find the right set of words, “pathetically pungent.”

“Who says I’m desperate?” he asks, cocking his head to one side, a graceful yet annoying smirk plastered on his lips.

“I told you I’m not interested and yet you’re still here,” you reply cooly.

“I like challenges, call me a player of sorts,” he explains, “riddles, mind games, secrets, I love the lot.”

“Well here’s a riddle for you then… what has two eyes, a margarita in her hand and isn’t interested in you at all?” you force a sickly sweet smile.

“My great aunt,” he replies, smiling right back.

“I don’t think you’re as good at these riddles as you thought,” you criticise, taking another swig of alcohol.

“And I don’t think you’re uninterested,” he tells me, “body language speaks volumes sweetheart-“

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” you snap suddenly, raising your voice a little louder than you’d intended.

“You’re facing completely toward me, your posture is open, you’re looking directly at me and you occasionally scan over the rest of my body,” he says, “if you were uninterested that wouldn’t be happening. Not to mention our eyes kept meeting from across the room.”

You smile slightly and then swivel around on your chair so your back is completely towards him. You hunch over wishing you had some sunglasses to reinforce the no eye contact thing.

“How’s this for body language,” you call, not even looking over your shoulder to see his reaction.

“I much prefer looking at your face but the back of you is a perfectly nice view as well,” he says smoothly. Well, wasn’t that annoying.

Your cheeks heat up and you spin back around, “please leave me alone.”

“Alone…” he ponders, “not with anyone?”

“My friend is in the bathroom,” you lie quickly.

“She’s been there for a while,” he raises an eyebrow.

“And how would you know that?” you question, folding your arms tightly across your chest.

“Because I’ve watched you for a while,” he shrugs in response.

“You do realise that just makes you sound like a massive stalker-ish creep right?” you ask, trying not to laugh a little.

“Let me reword then…” he pauses, “I’ve observed you.”

“I think that’s worse,” you tell him, finishing the last of your drink, before getting up to leave.

As you begin to walk away, the man begins to follow you. Like a bad smell, you think, mentally rolling your eyes.

“Where are you going?” he asks, eyes wide.

“I’m leaving,” you reply, ice cutting through your tone.

“Bit early to be leaving,” he says, checking his watch. You sneak a glance, it’s expensive.

“I have work tomorrow,” you shrug, picking up your walking pace.

“What do you do?” he attempts.

“I’m leaving,” you repeat, firmer and flatter this time.

“Without my number?” he asks.

“Of course,” you say bluntly, as if he’d asked you whether the sky was blue.

“What about your friend? In the bathroom?” he taunts, a pathetic attempt of a joke.

“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes and debate slapping him across the face. You decide not to, just this once and make your way down the outdoor staircase. Cabs awaited at the bottom and you intend to catch one. Unfortunately Mr a-bit-too-obsessed seems to intend to catch up with you.

“Let me pay for your cab,” he offers suddenly, when you’re nearly at the bottom.

“Absolutely not,” you scoff, laughing a little at his sheer boldness.

“Please?” he asks, as you reach the bottom of the staircase.

“No, piss off, I’m uninterested, remember?” you shout, opening the cab door, shooting a smile at the driver before turning back to the man.

He’s caught up now and was stood all but a meter away, “uninterested, yet your eyes keep grazing over my lips.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you almost laugh, “as if you can see what my eyes are doing in the dark.”

“I see everything,” he smirks, the upturned corners of his mouth annoyingly attractive.

“Goodbye,” you deadpan, slamming the door.

“Bye sweetheart,” he calls, “and the name’s Jameson by the way.”

***

The next morning, you arrive at the studio a few minutes early and wait outside. The nervous excitement was roaring around inside of you as you stared at the sky. This was your dream job, what you’d worked to get to for as long as you could remember. You wanted this more than anything. If you landed this role it made all the turned down auditions, all the tears, all the times you almost quit, all those minuscule commercial jobs, it made it all worth it. Last year, when you’d landed a job on TV show and gotten a little taste of fame you’d felt on top of the world. Working on a big piece like that was an entirely new experience and one that you wanted to experience again, especially as this character was a character that you personally connected to.

Going to that first audition had probably been the scariest moment of your life and you’d come out convinced you’d messed the whole thing. But to your utter shock and surprise you had gotten a callback… and then a second. You’d made it this far. You didn’t want to blow it now.

But you’d be lying if you told yourself the audition was the only thing on your mind today. A certain man from a bar also seemed to be encircling your thoughts paths, aggravatingly frequently. You don’t know why he’s such a prominent thought but you try to avoid it. He’s a little too distracting for a day as important at this.

Soon enough, the casting director walks out and spots you, beckoning you in. With a small smile you walk in and find a set with cameras being ect up in front of it. The set looks to be a standard bedroom, with a single bed, shelves, a wardrobe, beside table and lots of other little nicknacks scattered around.

“Hello, thanks for coming,” he says, as he shakes your hand firmly.

“Thank you for the callback,” you smile, with a little laugh on the end.

“You’re doing a chemistry test today,” he explains.

The sentence takes you off guard a little. Of course you’d done chemistry tests before but suddenly you felt a little unprepared. Today you’d expected to act alone, but now you were relying on someone else to bring out your performance as well.

You look around, “Where’s the other person?”

“Apparently he’s running late,” the director replies, checking his watch.

“Oh,” you murmur, your heart sinking just a little.

“But don’t he should be here soon,” he nods, “there’s a few seats over there, if you want to sit down and get yourself ready.”

“Isn’t there a script?” you ask, curiously.

“You won’t need one,” the director replies.

“Oh,” your brow furrow, “is it like improv?”

“Something like that,” he shrugs.

“Okay,” you reply sceptically, your mind running through ideas about what it could be that you were doing

You sit yourself down the chairs and begin to do something to distract your mind. Reciting song lyrics usually did the trick. It killed time and made you think. Half way through one of the songs you’d been listening to at the moment the doors burst open from across the room. Your eyes snap up to see a man at the door. Must be the person who was running late.

As your eyes skim over him, you get a funny feeling wash over you. You immediately recognise that mess of dark hair and bold green eyes. You wrack your brain as to where it is that you remember them from. And then it hits you, like a punch to the stomach. The man from the bar last night, Jameson, you recall him shouting after your taxi.

This just can’t be happening.

Of course the only person you had a chemistry test with today was the one person you had zero chemistry with whatsoever. But it didn’t matter, you thought, you were still going to perform at your best and show these directors that you deserved this.

So you make a plan. To do what you think is the smartest thing to do in this situation. You decide to play dumb. He was probably drunk and wouldn’t remember your face, like you’d remembered his. You convince yourself you don’t know him and he doesn’t know you. You’re just two strangers, two actors, who have to do a scene. The director waves you over and suddenly your legs ae just moving towards him. Your heart thuds in your chest as you approach.

It was definitely him. Those green eyes couldn’t belong to anybody else. Without the darkness of the night, he looked even better. He was bolder and brighter like this. His facial features were even more beautiful than you’d originally thought, no wonder he was in the running for a role. The fan girls would go crazy over this guy.

“Jameson, meet y/n,” the director says, gesturing to you, “I’ll let you two get to know each other a little whilst we finish setting up.”

You look at him, wondering if you should start the conversation to manipulate it how you wanted or whether you should let him. Though you don’t get much of a chance to analyse it as he already begins.

“I know you,” he says.

Well shit. You didn’t actually expect him to remember you. This put your plan in a bit of a fragile situation. But nevertheless, you stuck with it. Fake to ‘til you make it.

“I don’t think you do,” you say, adding a hint of confusion into your voice

“I know your face,” he insists.

Stubborn. You observe. He’s stubborn, just like last night. Well, you were stubborn too, so you continued with your little act.

“No you don’t,” you reply, with a little laugh on the end.

“I hit on you,” he says calmly, too calmly for your liking.

You almost choke on your own spittle. He really remembers last night then.

“I’m sorry!” you ask.

“Last night at the bar,” he continues cooly.

“I don’t drink,” you say simply, attempting to shut down the conversation.

“I saw you have two margaritas, don’t lie,” he says, that got awful handsome devilish smirk dancing on his face.

The smirk that makes your stomach flutter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying to stay as stubborn as he.

“You know you look so much better in this lighting, sweeheart,” he grins.

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

The reaction was immediate and sudden, you have no control over it whatsoever. It’s like a deadly instinct.

“Oh so you do remember me?” he says, the smile now laced within his voice.

“Maybe I do,” you grit through your teeth, “but I declined you the first time, you’re a little brave to try again,”

“I am brave,” he tells me, “it’s one of my many green flags.”

“Such a shameless flirt,” you tusk, with an eye roll.

“Is that your type?” he wonder coyly.

“No,” you reply, blunt and sharp.

“What a pity,” he pouts with his pretty lips.

You choose not the say anything else. The conversation has run its course and ended. It’s better that way, when the two of you were not talking. That way he couldn’t make you feel anything. No flutters, no warmth. That’s the way it should be.

“I never knew you were an actress,” he says suddenly.

“And I never knew you were an actor,” you counter, mirroring the way he said it as well as his words.

“It’s really more of a hobby than a career path,” he replies nonchalantly.

“Well some people are serious about this stuff,” you say, a certain fierceness brought out in your voice.

“Are you some people?” he asks, smiling from ear to ear.

“Why does that matter?” you snap, not meaning to be so defensive all of a sudden. He didn’t need to know that you cared.

“Because it matters,” he says simply.

“Look I really want this part and I swear to god if you mess it up for me I will…. rip your head off or something,” you explain.

“I think you’ll get it,” he replies.

“What?”

“The part,” he clarifies.

“Why?”

“We’re about to do a chemistry test,” he shrugs, hands in his pockets.

“I’m aware,” you reply, your tone a little dead.

“So let’s show them what we’re best at,” Jameson shoots you a grin.

“Arguing?” you ask.

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, “having chemistry.”

“You must be out of your mind if you think we have chemistry,” you say.

“I’m out of my mind in love with you,” he replies.

Your cheeks immediately radiate heat and you can hear your heart drumming loudly in your ears. How dare he make you feel this way with just his stupid words.

“Oh shut up, that’s such a bad line,” you roll your eyes, pretending you were unbothered.

“I think you secretly liked it,” he whispers in your ear, a tingle going down your spine.

“You’re thinking wrong again,” you murmur.

“You’re definitely writing it in a pink fluffy diary and drawing love hearts around it,” he mocks, amusement in his tone.

“Have you been watching teenage girl movies or something?” you ask, slight notes of disgust and concern in your voice.

He doesn’t get a chance to bite back as the director walks towards us both and begins to explain what we’re doing today.

“So today we’re just testing out for good kissing chemistry,” the director explains.

“Kissing?” you repeat, jaw slack.

“We just want to film a few shots of you guys kissing to see if it’s a good match or not,” he explains further.

“I have to kiss him?” you clarify, trying not to portray your mortification on your face.

“Yes that is the general idea,” he deadpans at you.

“Oh,” you murmur.

“Will that be a problem?” he asks, judgmental eyebrows raised high into his forehead.

“Not at all,” Jameson almost sings, bearing his teeth for a witty smile.

“No,” you grit through your teeth.

“Brilliant, should we get started then?” the director asks.

You both nod, annoyingly in sync and then make your way to the bedroom set.

“Did you plan this?” you hiss, as you get set up, so no one else could hear.

You can’t help yourself. The curiosity was gnawing at you. Could he really have wanted a kiss that badly to plan all of this?

“Yes I came in here and told the director to change his whole schedule so we could kiss,” he rolls his eyes sarcastically.

You opt for silence.

“Obviously not!” he exclaims, “look I know you thought I was a creep but that’s a whole new level-“

“Sorry,” you blurt out, “I was only curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, did it not?” Jameson says, his mouth twisting into a familiar smile.

“Maybe it was a stupid cat,” you murmur.

“Or maybe it was a smart cat that was a little too curious,” he replies.

“I guess we’ll never know,” you say, your voice low and slow.

“I guess we won’t,” he murmurs back, a level of seduction in his tone, that causes heat to rise in your face.

You are directed to be positioned with your back on the make-shift set wall with Jameson standing over you. The cameras were twisted and turned around you, capturing all angles needed. You brace yourself ignoring how hard you are breathing and how much your heart is thumping in your chest.

“ACTION.”

He makes the first move and presses his lips onto yours, his hands cupping your face. The motion is very gentle, delicate almost, making you feel fragile. His lips so soft and smooth and you find myself not only kissing back, but wanting to. He tastes indescribably addictive and after that first gentle kiss you don’t think you can get enough. You want to taste this every day of my life. You close your eyes, discarding any previous hesitation you’d had about this experience and start to enjoy it.

Slowly his hands slip around your waist, his soft touch surprising you a little. Your arms meet around his neck. You don’t break for breath. You and him have come to the silent agreement that breathing doesn’t seem to matter anymore. You’ve never felt so positively sure of something that you want until this very moment moment. He pushes his lips harder against yours and you follow suit. The kiss deepens as he hums in pleasure. A low hum right from the back of his throat. It takes you off guard slightly but you move past it and keep kissing his pretty little lips. It’s like a dance, driven off of feeling for music and movement of the body.

You want to know every crevice, every morsel and every surface of his lips. You want to know what they desire and how to give it to him. You could feel his heartbeat thumping due to the closeness of your chests. He’s intense but you like it. You like the intensity of this moment and how your mind was so wrapping up in it you couldn’t think of anything else. You loved the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You kiss again, deepening it further and then…

Desperation takes over and suddenly you’re both ravenous for one another. Feverishly kissing rough and passionate kisses. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer to him, so you’re pressed right up against his body. Your hands now find themselves deep within his hair, clinging to chunks of it. You feel so violent that you fear you might pull some out. The kiss is now savage in a delightful kind of way that you never would have imagined. You wanted him to bite your lip so hard it drew blood, you wanted the heat, you wanted the frenzied feelings.

But then the movement slows again, he lets you know he wants a gentler approach. He slows down the kiss and really feels your lips, almost tickling them. It’s like he’s teasing you in the best way possible. His lips of velvety soft, brushing against your own. You let your kisses fall into a more soothing, delicate rhythm, tenderising each one’s, tailoring it to be even softer than the last and-

“CUT.”

You’d forgotten this was just a scene, just a chemistry test. You’d forgotten where you were or why you were there. Your mind had been paralysed by his lips. So lost within emotion and lust and love. Love? Suddenly you’re angry, angry at him for doing this to you, making you forget who you were for a moment, for having that kind of power. And yet, when the director yells cut, your lips still linger.

You finally break away, breathing heavily. You stare into his green eyes, your lips still tingling, your tongue still craving another taste. You look away, you can’t bear to meet his eyes for fear you might attempt something stupid. The devil is in his eyes and he’s reaching out to your heart. That isn’t a position you were prepared to be in

“Well if I’m not mistaken,” he grins, chest moving up and down as he too is out of breath, “that’s felt like chemistry to me.”

“Maybe you’re mistaken then,” you lie.

“I could feel your heart beating sweetheart-“

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” you almost yell.

“It was beating real hard,” he finishes, still not quite caught his breath back.

You finally look up and he is already there to meet your gaze. You don’t even bother to answer him. You just continue to get lost into the deep forests and the stories they told.

“Thank you guys, that was brilliant, absolutely spectacular, I could just feel the sexual tension through the screen, which is exactly what we’re looking for,” the director says.

You can feel Jameson smirking from behind and it’s bugging you. You don’t want there to be sexual tension between you and him, you don’t want there to be anything between you and him other than a brick wall right now. You hate the way your cheeks are ruby red and how your heart rate can’t seem to slow because you know he’s there, behind you.

“Would you mind both coming back in tomorrow so we can test out an actual scene rather than just a kiss?” the director asks.

You ponder it for a moment, you could decline, never come back, lose this job and never see Jameson again. But lose your dream role for a guy who’s pissing you off? Absolutely not. You didn’t get this far for someone like him to get in the way.

Jameson hasn’t replied yet. You assume he is waiting for you to answer first to make his decision .

“I’ll be there,” you say firmly.

“And so will I,” Jameson winks.

“Perfect, thanks you two!” The director smiles, walking back off.

Once he’s completely out of the way you let out a long breath and close your eyes. You’d gotten through yet another day of auditions and you would be back tomorrow. If this goes well then you get all that you want. That’s all that matters.

“See you tomorrow,” he grins at you, flashing his brilliant emerald eyes, “sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. You didn’t protest to the nickname this time. Lord help you tomorrow.

a/n: I can’t lie, I don’t really like what I’ve written here but thought I’d post it anyways. Something about it is just… bleh. I might do a rewrite at some point???

thank you to whoever requested this, sorry I took me a little while and also sorry it wasn’t that good… thanks for your patience 🤍🤍

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[konohamaru-sensei]

Because im predictable, gray/juvia: "I wanna waste all of my time with you.” 🥺

Merry Christmas Shore! I am very grateful that I somehow made it into your circle of 5 fairy tail fandom friends!! I really admire your art and the speed at which you create, i love that we have the same brain when it comes to shipping and just your general love for Juvia. I promised something fluffy for christmas to offset all the angst, but I'm not sure about the quality of what I wrote. I hope you enjoy it anyway <3

--

Gray x Juvia

Post Alvarez lol i mean.

__

“I’m going to buy a drink.” Gray pushed himself out of the seat he had been sitting in for what was the better part of the day. His limbs felt numb and every bone in his body hurt so much that he wasn’t sure if stretching them out even helped. He’d been perched up on that wooden bench so long that he never wanted to go back there again ever, even though he knew he had to.

Juvia gave him a nod and said nothing, which he took as her not wanting one herself. She’d gotten very quiet in the last hour. Also another reason he needed a drink: When Juvia gave up her always cheery attitude in favour of being sombre something was usually very wrong.

The first beer that was handed to him Gray downed in one go without taking a breath and then he ordered the next one immediately and watched the baffled barman fill his glass again. Then he walked back to the table, frowning at the look of the bench he had to force himself onto again.

They’d been out on this job for three days. A wizard who was rumoured to have stolen some valuable diamonds was supposed to come by this bar or sell here and the mission giver had tasked them to sit there and wait for the guy to come by. Gray had asked Juvia to join, because he didn’t think that making conversation with Erza or Natsu during a full day was a bearable idea. Juvia on the other hand was pleasant to be around.

They had spent their days sitting in the back of that bar, the cheapest seats at the very back where it was mostly dark, waiting for a guy to appear that never appeared. Each night Gray had to watch the tenants of the pub get drunk without being allowed to drink himself. After all, alcohol and fighting didn’t match well - unless you were Cana, but she had incredible resistance anyway.

Gray sat back down in the damned place and he had half the second drink down right away. “If the guy doesn’t show up tonight,” he said, “we will go back.” Abandoning jobs was not his style, but wasting his time wasn’t his style either. 

“What about the master?” Juvia asked and circled the table with her pointer finger. She looked dejected in a way that Gray hated, as if she was personally responsible for the misery of the last three days.

He emptied his glass. “Don’t mind him.” Gray shrugged. “I’d rather not get paid than be here for another 12 hours in this dark and uncomfortable and boring place.”

“I’m sorry, Gray-sama,” Juvia put the ends of her fingers together, “Juvia wishes she were better company.”

“What do you mean by that?” Gray waved to one of the staff to refill his drink and they did.

Juvia looked from the alcohol back to him. “Juvia is boring Gray-sama. That is why Gray-sama is annoyed.”

“It’s the guy that refuses to show up that annoys me,” Gray says decidedly. “You’ve not done anything wrong.” He tapped his finger in irritation and then sipped his beer again.

“But if Juvia were better company…” she murmured, “..maybe Gray-sama would be happier. Gray-sama asked Juvia to come along and now she is of no help.”

He let out an irritated grunt. “Nonsense,” he said and shook his head. “I don’t know how you always come up with this stuff.” There was already a considerable warmth in his chest and probably on his cheeks too. Surely the alcohol was getting to him. He downed the next drink.

Juvia looked at him as if she was trying to find words to say. The way she looked when she looked away from him, when she tried to do stay away from him if he was moody or angry, when she had somehow gotten it into her head that she was doing something that was wrong, he hated that look on her face. Juvia was the best when she was happy, when she was enthusiastic and a little weird. 

“Don’t make that face,” he said and put his head onto his flat hand to keep it upright. “I asked you to come, didn't I? If I were bothered by your presence I wouldn’t have asked you.”

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Seriously, it’s pleasant to have you around, you have a nice- “ he gestured a little with his hand - “..everything.”

Juvia blushed, which somehow made the warmth at his core worse, so he waved for another drink. He already felt a little confused in his mind, like it was slightly clouded over, but drinking helped with the frustration of the day. 

Apparently having found her usual stride again with what he said Juvia moved closer to him and picked one of the strands of his hair away from the beer: “Why exactly does Gray-sama like hanging out with Juvia?”

Gray briefly closed his eyes and moved his head sideways into her hand so he could breathe in a little of the smell of the hand soap she was always using. He’d noticed it long ago, but he’d never been close enough to soak it in like now.

“You smell nice,” he said and by the way her fingers jumped away from his hair he could tell that his answer surprised her. He made a frowny face and reached for her hand again to put it into his hair. “I like when you do that too.” He looked at her and though she was slightly foggy, he could make out the red cheeks.

“You are always happy and positive and smiling - I like when you smile. Your powers are so compatible with mine so I like doing jobs with you and I enjoy every conversation we have with one another. “ He weighed his head. “But I also enjoy just being quiet around you. It’s pleasant to have you near me no matter what.”

He reached for one of the strands of her hair and turned it around his finger. “Gray…sama…” Juvia murmured in reply as if she didn’t quite know what to say to that onslaught of compliments.

His eyes shot up: “That I hate,l though.” Juvia blinked and he waved with his hand. “I don’t like how you are so formal with me. We’ve known each other for ages, hell, you’ve died for me, you should stop addressing me like I am a prince of some kind.”

“Well then, what if I call you dear then?” she asked slowly.

Gray grabbed the beer in front of him and drank half of it. Through his foggy mind the answer came much easier than it would have if he hadn’t been drinking. “Sure..” he said but didn't look at her. “Whatever you want.” His insides felt strange at this admission. He finished the glass for good measure.

Juvia let out a squeal and then, as if to test the waters, she leaned forward to his ear and slowly said: “Don’t you think that is enough drinks, my dear?” 

It was like a magic spell had been cast. From where her breath had touched his ear goosebumps spread all through his body to the tips of his toes. He hadn’t experienced this since the last time he had been actually cold, which happened so very rarely that he couldn’t even recall when that was. But here she had done that to him, just with one word alone. 

He buried his head forward into his arms, combatting the spinning of his head by having his eyes closed. Gray let go of the strand of hair he’d been holding and instead ran a hand through his hair to regain composure, but then he found her fingers already there. He’d forgotten he had put her hand into his hair in the first place.

“Dangerous..” Gray murmured and pulled away from her fingers. “You are a dangerous woman.”

Juvia leaned closer to him again. “Why? Do you not like it, my dear?” She made sure to make the last syllables very clear again. She stopped moving through his hair.

“No.” Gray said, decidedly and then slightly shook his head to invite her to continue what she’d been doing. “No.. it’s not.. Like that..” He didn’t know how to explain what confused him so much, so he just grunted in frustration and gave up. He buried his head deeper into his arms.

“Juvia thinks you had too much to drink, dear,” Juvia giggled and combed through his hair. “Maybe it’s time to leave.”

Somewhere beyond the fog, Gray knew she was right, but he found himself entirely unable to move. Too tired and comfortable with her body close, her smell in his nose and her hand in his hair. So he decided to pretend he’d fallen asleep, just to enjoy it all a little longer.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Epilogue

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

Epilogue: That Most Presumptuous Of All Things

“You look so handsome,” you tell Frank, smoothing his suit jacket, straightening the little cluster of white flowers in his lapel. He smiles down at you, that warmth shining in his dark eyes that you know is just for you. Even after all these years, it still gives you butterflies. 

His boutonniere matches the baby’s breath braided into your hair. 

All these years later, the two of you are finding yourselves at yet another destination wedding in wine country. 

This time, you’re not half so annoyed about the presumptuous inconvenience. 

This time, the guest list numbers two: him, and you. 

No one was more surprised than you, a few months ago, when in the middle of dinner on a normal weeknight he set a river rock down in front of your plate of chicken carbonara that simply read, “Marry me?” 

You’d never meant anything more, when immediately you’d answered through your laughter, “Yes.” 

The two of you decided very quickly to forgo the meaningless trappings and pageantry of the conventional wedding. Who did it concern, anyway, but just the two of you? 

In half an hour, you will go to the courthouse where a Justice of the Peace will say a few words over your union, and you’ll sign a piece of paper together declaring you man and wife. This last big gesture will be undeniably sweet, but you can’t help but think it won’t really change anything between the two of you. The cement of your bond set long ago, mixed with dedication, sweat, and tears poured into this precious thing between you. 

It hasn’t been all roses. No real relationship ever is. 

Your fights are probably the stuff of legend in his condo building. Your first big go round, after the inevitable shouting match, you’d left his apartment in a huff, needing to regroup (so as not to commit murder). When you came back you found him sitting in the dark with his head in his hands. He’d thought you’d left for good, and you promised him that night that you would always come back for him. 

It’s a promise you’ve kept. 

A bit more embarrassing, your make up sex is probably legend too. Mrs. Fontaine next door always gives you a certain sly little look with a twinkle in her eye, the night after.

For such an expensive building, they’d sure skimped on the thickness of the walls.

He’s tried to break up with you, twice. Once, after seeing you holding a friend’s baby, (and maybe because you somehow managed not to drop it?) he convinced himself (without asking you) that you really did want kids and were wasting your youth on him. The second time, because he insulted you. Or rather, your art. His usually impish teasing just went a bit too far, and it had been a doozy, you had to admit. No one can deliver a cuttingly true remark like Frank, and he did make you cry,  though he apologized almost immediately. Ironically, in the end, the whole thing upset him more than you, the you deserve better song and dance surfacing again that you’ve fought tooth and nail.

You did not respect his wishes either instance, refusing to take no for an answer, going after him with both barrels and a vengeance. You sent flowers to his work, bribed his dry cleaner to put love notes in his jacket pockets, and left sappy balloons tied to his car. You even threatened to finally ambush him with the boombox (you didn’t even own one, truth be told) which finally led to a sit down at your favorite sushi joint, and your inevitable victory. As it turned out–it was exactly the assurance he’d needed all along. 

Both times your love just came out the other side of the fire even stronger. 

Your joy is legend too, even if only in your own mind. Frank makes you laugh every day. He makes you feel desired, and loved, and mostly saves his razor-edged observations for the rest of the world outside, which the two of you watch go by with spectators’ amusement and dismay. Talking shit remains your number one pastime together. At some point, the little things each of you does that inevitably annoys the other becomes more of a running joke. Your love language includes flipping each other off regularly and playfully trading barbs. It’s hard for others to believe, but his devotion to you is thoughtful and complete. You do your best every day to return it in kind. Some days you fall short, and sometimes he does too, but on the whole you make eachother happy, and somehow five years have flown by. 

 “You look beautiful.” His approval fills your heart like a sunrise. You’re wearing a simple white lace dress that hits just above your knee. If you have to run from a mountain lion, you’re not going to trip over your skirts. Your shoes? Might be another matter. 

“Thanks.”

“I like the heels,” he says with a smirk, as though his thoughts are aligned with yours. They often are as of late, you’ve found. Your shoes are actually the same wedge platforms you wore to a different wedding you attended together, what feels like a lifetime ago. 

“I thought you hated these shoes?” you tease. 

“Oh no. It will be impossible for you to run from me, when you finally come to your senses,” he says with a little smile, touching a strand of hair by your ear lightly.  You shudder as it sends a thrill across your skin, and if you’re being honest, straight to your loins. Whose ridiculous suggestion was it, anyway, to forego intimacy before the wedding? 

Ok, so it was yours–and Frank has been delighting in torturing you over the past month. You just might expire over the time it will take to get to the courthouse, go for a leisurely drive through the vineyards, and sit through a nice dinner at one of the wineries overlooking the fields at sunset. Sex is yet another thing between you that has somehow only gotten better with time, and to say you are looking forward to your wedding night would be an understatement.

“This was all your idea,” you remind him. “Are you…rethinking it? If you are–” 

He snorts and pulls you against him, lifting you on tiptoe with an arm around your waist and kissing you so deeply you know you’ll have to re-apply your lipstick. 

Ah well. 

“Woman…” He rests his forehead against yours, and you smile, ridiculously content in this moment with him.

“Why do you want to get married, Frank?” You realize, perhaps hilariously, you never actually asked him, so delighted that you just rolled with it. You already practically live together, at his place and yours. You’re both financially independent. You’re not planning on starting a family. Your commitment to each other was already set in stone.  

“I felt like we needed a challenge. We’ve been entirely too happy,” he says with that smirk that makes you roll your eyes. 

“Come on.”

“And if something happens to me, I don’t want my mother or Keith to be able to pull my plug.”

You poke him in the ribs for this. For some reason, he’s convinced himself this morbid scenario is inevitable. “I already have your medical POA.”

He squirms away with a grunt of amusement before grabbing you up again, his gaze softening for you once more. “Because, I love you, more than anything or anyone.” 

You believe him too. The thing about Frank, is that he does not make this shit up. He says what he’s thinking, at the moment he thinks it–and you think your heart really might explode. “Likewise,” you assure him with a smile, tilting your head to receive another gentle kiss that curls your painted toes. “Are you ready to go?”

He nods, and maybe you are feeling some pre-wedding jitters now. Because you still think this man is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever laid eyes on, and sometimes it is still a little hard to believe that he’s all yours. 

You grab your purse, he grabs the keys, and together you walk out the door towards the next big step of your life, together. 

The End, which is really just to say, another beginning…  

Thank you everyone who’s come on this wacky journey with me and supported this fic! @treedaddymcpuffpuff @scarlettspectra @sweetwolfcupcake @lilspookymeh @kurai-hono-blog @nightmare-bean  @discoscoob @thewhumpcaretaker and SO many others, (I didn’t want to make you feel weird by tagging you if we’ve never actually talked but I SEE YOU! 😘) your comments and likes and reblogs gave me life and helped me actually finish! FULL credit to @nightmare-bean for the rock proposal idea, I love it so much! 🤣

[sanjisboyfie]

∞ SNSTV : first year, first mission

this is the first chapter of my series "sensitive" (SNSTV = sensitive). since it's a series, this first chapter is going to be pretty "boring" in terms of romance, but it still full of satosugu interactions with reader...but probably not favorable ones as you'll see soon lol. anyway ! stay tuned for the next chapters because i will have a lot of fun fleshing this out hehehe

first year satosugu x male reader

-> prev

( if u squint )

“since shoko is a very valuable sorcerer, she must refrain from participating in highly dangerous missions,” the only girl in the room smiled at the information, sneakily flipping off her male classmates. satoru was annoyed, suguru was indifferent, and [name] seemed to be the only one with half a mind to care for the woman’s safety.

“her abilities are quite special,” he compliments, making yaga hum in agreement and shoko wink at him in appreciation.

satoru pretends to barf in his mouth.

“that leaves the three of you, [last name], gojo, and geto — this mission is going to be your first one without supervision. it should show to be easy enough. you are to simply monitor and oversea a specific section of the closed down mall and exorcise any curses that are roaming. it has been closed down far too long and kids are starting to wander in there without any idea of what they’re walking into. for the safety of the people and the community, you must exterminate every curse that dwells there. you are all permitted in using any cursed tool, if you wish, but we highly encourage you learn to harness your abilities as soon as possible.”

satoru pretended to barf in his mouth again. doing things for “normal” civilians was never his most ideal way of spending his time. but unless he wanted to hear a nagging from yaga, he had to suck it up. formal missions were hard to dodge, anyway. meanwhile, suguru hummed in understanding, seeing why this would need an urgent team.

and [name] was just excited to finally get his hands on his cursed tool again.

the three were escorted to the abandoned mall via their driver, who told them to call him if anything were to happen and they needed immediate assistance.

“i don’t get why crybaby over here had to come,” satoru huffs, looking at the mall with disinterest. it’s unclear whether or not he’s talking to himself or his other classmate. either way, it got a reaction from [name] who was within earshot.

“why don’t you just go fuck off gojo,” [name] snarled, holding onto the scythe in his hands with a tight grip. he expertly twirled it around, using the weight of it and basic understanding of gravity, to make it so that the sharp blade was pointed right at gojo’s neck.

hiding his surprise at the sudden action, gojo just smirked and glared at [name].

“you’re just scared because you know i’m right. the moment things go to shit, you’re gonna go running with your tail in between your legs like a poor puppy. and i’ll be there to laugh,” gojo said with a taunting cackle, the ugly sound rising from his throat making both suguru and [name] cringe.

“i’ll slice your throat open, i mean it.”

“love to see you try, piece of shit!”

“alright! enough fighting, the both of you! seriously? are we on a mission to exorcise some curses or is it my personal responsibility to babysit the two of you?” suguru sighed, rubbing his forehead in stress, “can we all just do this and go home? i think it’s obvious neither of you want to be here any longer,”

satoru rolled his eyes at suguru’s “nice guy” perona, internally calling bullshit on his entire personality. god, satoru hated those type of guys the most. the ones who think they’re superior just because they’re more mature. it pissed him off that suguru had an ability so strong too...talk about waste of potential!

well, too bad for both [name] and suguru because the one who was most superior was obviously him! he was gojo satoru, after all.

“whatever, weaklings. why don’t you sit back and just let me take care of this? there’s no need for your abilities when i could exterminate every curse in the vacinity,” satoru was confident when speaking his words, but if you were to tell him to actually do that…he might not have been able to.

hey! he was a first year and just recently allowed to go completely “ham” on using his powerful abilities. he didn’t have the bestest grasp on control or output, but he did know that his technique easily overpowered the other twos’.

“hm, to make it interesting, why don’t we have a competition?”

the competitive side of [name] and satoru shone bright after suguru said that. taking their perked up heads and attentive ears as a sign to continue on, he proposed, “whoever exorcises the most curses won’t have to do chores around the dorm for a whole week and all that responsibility will fall onto the losers.”

“a whole month,” [name] bargained, earning a shrug of approval from suguru. and satoru laughed that obnoxious laugh of his again, shouting a “bring it on” before putting on his sunglasses.

“you two are going down!”

“what does cockiness get you besides hateful stares, gojo?”

“geto-san’s right, you gojo bitch! bite your tongue and choke on your own blood, fool!!”

on the count of 3, the three students were setting off into separate directions of the mall and finding as many curses as possible to exterminate. for how vast the entire property was, this could take as long as a couple of hours…if the three students were normal jujutsu sorcerers.

but when you put a narcissist, someone with a superiority complex, and a hot-headed individual in a high stakes competition, you get the mall that was full of curses being free of said curses in under two hours (an hour and ten minutes, to be exact. to cover a 800,000 square feet land full of extremely lower grade curses).

at the beginning of the competition, [name] would lure out the curses by simply baiting them with his “naivety” of them being there. they’d pounce to attack, happy to find an unsuspecting prey, before [name] would slash them across their forms and kill them with his cursed tool. he imagines by the end of the hour, he had already taken care of over a couple dozen very low grade curses.

just as he was about to maneuver around and slice another one up, something had already took care of the problem.

“gonna need to try harder than that, crybaby,” satoru taunts, smirking from a floor above as he easily blew up the curse that was about to attack [name]. the man grits his teeth in annoyance while the white haired individual just shrugs in pride, “you can’t even look out for yourself, need me to save you, huh?”

“fuck off!” [name] sent a strong gust of wind satoru’s way via swinging his scythe towards satoru, creating almost a slash of air. his tormentor only laughed at the attempt in attacking him, flipping out of the way and then walking past [name] with a smug grin.

as he disappeared from [name]’s sight, he felt himself get more and more annoyed and angry at his predicament. of course, he had to be stuck in an abandoned place with his bully and not be able to leave until the ending of their mission. [name] huffed, feeling an unfair amount of tears reach his eyes.

at least satoru wouldn’t be around to see him cry like a pathetic loser, he thought to himself. he shook his head a couple of times, forcing the tears down with a clearing of his throat and rough wipe of his face. it was a pain to live such an emotionally unstable life — as if he had any control over things like that.

“so you really are a crybaby?” suguru’s voice broke his silent sobs, making him whip his head up and glare at the man approaching him. seeing his obvious apprehension to him being there, suguru put his hands up in surrender to show he meant no harm, “there’s no reason for you to be crying, why are you crying?”

“obviously i know i have no reason to cry, idiot, how annoying do you think it is for me to have to do it when i have no reason to?!”

suguru blinked, confusion panted on his face, “you have to cry?” putting emphasis on ‘have’ it was obvious suguru didn’t see a point in such a thing, especially right now.

“you wouldn’t get it, so just leave me alone,” [name] said, waving his hand and turning around to look for more curses. suguru had an odd look on his face as he watched [name] walk away, an unreasonable amount of cursed energy surrounding the previously crying man.

the ravenette truly wondered what his life story was, he was just so intriguing. a sorcerer coming from one of the strongest clans in the jujutsu world was walking away from him with his head held down, shoulders shaking, and tears dripping onto the floor.

“what’s his deal,” suguru hums to himself, flicking his wrist in the direction of a miniature curse that was coming towards him and easily eliminating it from the picture.

[name] continued expertly swinging his scythe around whenever he saw a curse coming towards him, not flinching as it died in front of him each time. it was obvious he was most comfortable with such a weapon, despite it being a couple times larger than his smaller frame. with how easily he handled it, though, it was somewhat obvious that he had been training with the weapon for a long time.

“oiii!!! i finished up on my part of the mall,” satoru shouted, his whiny voice echoing in the empty walls.

“same here!!”

[name] looked down at the pathetic curse that was shyly standing far away from him. it had an odd figure, a spherical body that was being held up by skinny blue legs that were wobbling from the abnormal amount of weight that they had to hold up. it was muttering some stuff about the fitting room and how the clothes weren’t fitting, making [name] believe it probably formed from the stuff people would feel about themselves in the fitting rooms.

he sighed, walking ahead and crouching in front of the curse. the scythe remained unmoving as it was leaning against his shoulder, weakly swinging in the air at the heavy weight of the blade hanging behind his head. he kept it secure with his arm over the handle portion, making sure that it didn’t fall over.

the curse reached its arm out to touch him, but with a simple shifting of his head into the opposite direction, [name] stopped the possible contact. instead, he just put his finger to the pudgy flesh of the curse’s body, grimacing at the feeling. and with a simple “shot” coming from his fingers, the curse began to flail in pain and agony. until it turned into nothing but ash and dust, being blown away by a passing breeze.

“hey, what was your total count?” satoru’s voice taunted from behind him, not really reading the energy in the room. [name] stood up, a completely dead look in his eyes. it almost shocked satoru enough to shut him up, but it would take more than a miserable face to ever make him close his loud mouth.

“i came up to about 60,” suguru said, “a bunch of small insignificant ones, really,”

“and i got to the eighties,” satoru grinned, roughly shoving his shoulder into suguru’s. the black haired man only rolled his eyes, “what about you? i doubt above thirty, am i right?”

in reality, [name] had killed more curses than the two combined. but he susposes that he had an advantage, wielding a cursed tool rather than using his actual technique. well, except to kill that last one. plus his high sensitivity in reading where the curses were gave him an advantage in finding the prey faster than the other two.

but instead of telling the truth and gloating, like he should have done, he just shrugged, “i didn’t keep track — i guess you win, gojo,”

that made the strong sorcerer pump his fist into the air, chanting about how [name] and suguru were going to be stuck doing his laundry for a month. he was too caught up in his celebration to notice how sunken in [name]’s face really looked.

it wasn’t just his eyes that appeared dead, but it was as if the color drained from his face, his eyes turned bloodshot, and he was weakly walking towards them.

suguru noticed, though. and it intrigued him as he peered behind [name]’s subtly limping figure, catching a pile of ashes that was blowing in the wind. he couldn’t connect the dots completely, but he did know that the two things he noticed were connected in some way.

“feeling alright? losing sucks,” suguru asked, trying to talk about more light hearted things in the face of his incredibly sullen classmate.

“yeah, it’s whatever, i guess,”

there was definitely a difference. less colorful choices of vocabulary were being used and suguru thought that was the most noticeable change in [name]’s demeanor. he wasn’t cursing satoru out for being an egotistical piece of shit with the biggest ego in the world. he was just blankly walking past the bragging man with not a care in the world.

suguru bit his lip, stopping himself from asking more questions and instead reaching into his pocket to contact their original driver to tell them that the job was done. and while suguru was theorizing all of these things to himself, it was obvious satoru didn’t even spend a second thinking about it. if anything he welcomed the new, depressed [name]. it made for perfect bullying material for him!

that sadist, suguru grimly thought in his mind as he listened to the phone ring. he informed the driver to come pick them up before turning back around to watch satoru and [name] interact with one another. with how off he was acting, it was a surprise to see satoru still adamant on tormenting [name]. wasn’t it obvious already he was not himself? couldn’t gojo just give him a break? but then again, why wasn’t [name] sticking up for himself? he wasn’t a little kid that needed suguru’s saving, but at this point, he might as well.

“c’mon, gojo, quit it already,” suguru spoke up, lightly slapping the man’s shoulder. satoru didn’t like that, though, obnoxiously stomping over to stand toe-to-toe with suguru.

“hah? c’mon, geto, you’ve got to see that this is a real pathetic scene, isn’t it? he can’t do anything in his life but constantly lose. it makes you wonder how it’s even possible for us to exist in the same world as him; the strongests and the weakest standing to be in the same jujutsu class? what a joke,”

suguru grimaced, pushing satoru backwards to create some space in between them, “that’s not even funny, what’s your issue, gojo? can’t you just shut up for a couple of seconds? would it really kill you?”

satoru pretended to barf, glaring at suguru, “oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re one of those righteous folks that sticks up for the weaker people?”

“i don’t have to explain shit to you — i don’t even know you,” suguru mumbles, not wanting to entertain him further. creating an argument would only make their moods worsen and become more bitter towards each other. in the midst of his annoyance, suguru glances towards [name] and scoffed to himself.

it was a bit pathetic of [name] to not even speak up for himself, he’ll admit that. but he wasn’t going to bully him just for that. he just wished that he had spoken up for himself in this moment, it would’ve at least been a sign to satoru that he wasn’t to be messed with. that he was strong, to some extent. but instead the man just stood there and took all the insults.

it made suguru both annoyed and angered.

why couldn’t [name] stand up for himself now? he was doing so before so easily and naturally. but now, it was as if all the energy was sucked out of him…

the ride to the jujutsu high was silent. and [name] seperated from the two the moment they stepped foot onto the school grounds. suguru remained stoic as he watched [name] walk away while satoru next to him only hummed in disinterest.

”i’m telling you, suguru, to not waste your time defending him. he’s got no place in the jujutsu world, weak sorceres like him that prove to be useless have no place standing next to us — or even shoko for that matter. she may not have fighting prowess, but her natural ability is remarkable. with [name]…there’s nothing remarkable about him. it’s as if he’s a normal human, he’s ordinary and dull. don’t waste your breath with him.”

that was all satoru said to suguru before walking off, his hands behind his head as he walked in such a lax position. suguru stood silent for a couple of moments before snapping himself out of his stupor and going to his room.

he looked at the room a couple of doors down from him, [name]’s room, and his lips were drawn into a thin, straight line. he entered his comfortable room without wasting another second.

he didn’t know that behind [name]’s door, the man had his knees brought up to his chest as he sobbed his heart out on the floor. the screen of his small tv was blaring back at him in the dark room, the screen being the only source of light. he was watching his favorite show, one that made him laugh and happy. but tears streamed down his face as he had to choke back on his sobs.

he tried forcing a smile on his face, making an unsettling expression a couple of times before he gave up.

he always hated this part.

but he had to persevere. he moved to his small music player at his bedside, grabbing the headphones that worked alongside them and falling onto his bed. he put the flimsy over-ear devices on, sighing as he looked up at the blank ceiling. soon, a compilation of his favorites songs filled his ears and he tried to be content with the feeling.

‘immerse yourself. and you’ll be okay in the morning.’

it was a mantra he repeated to himself until he felt himself fall into sleep.

he really hated his innate cursed technique.

-

sorry if u hate emotional mcs...this guy is gonna be one. but for explainable reason, trust! he's still going to be strong, too, though, so look forward to that! i can't wait to make him go #insane <3 but other than that, really fun to write since it shows the dynamic i imagined satosugu to have in their first years of jujutsu high !!! since the whole incident happens in their second year i rlly wanna focus on building the relationships in the first year and stuff, so things might be a lil slow to start, but when it starts ... it'll start, trust. tysm for being os patient w this even if it is short affa. i look forward to writing longer, more deeeeeep chapters in the future. much love <3

[dittaturamonegasca]

I think there should bé a fic where anyone from the grid would be third wheeling Landoscar, like, have you seen how these two interact.

So, I lack the ability and the time of f1writingbyme and LestappenForever to make this idea into a proper work like they did for "How (Not) To Third Wheel Lestappen" (check it out on Ao3 if you haven't already, definitely worth it) BUT BUT BUT, I can tell you how I think most of the grid would react in third wheeling Landoscar!

1) I feel like we should spare Checo, cause honestly this man has had enough as third wheel of Maxiel and Lestappen, I don't wanna give him extra traumas, SO –

2) Logan Sargeant: this one I really feel guilty about. Cause I like the narrative of him and Oscah being besties and still I cry over the sad edits of Logan just left behind. I think Landoscar with Logan has the most space for improvement?? I forgive Oscar even tho he definitely ghosted the poor Logan for the whole honeymoon phase with Lando (it's been almost two years, Osc, get a grip). I have a feeling Logan will speak up at some point and this would shake Oscar a little, so maybe he would be the more aware and more involved third wheel, possibly? They'll end up doing triple video-games championships with Lando and Logan mocking Oscar's gaming skills, mark my words.

3) Carlos Sainz: my man how does it feel to know you've wasted your chance (multiple chances, lets be real) for good? I have mixed ideas about this one, cause I think it would probably being more like Lando struggling to keep them both as close as possible resulting in Oscar being rightfully jealous 👀👀 so the third wheeling situation would be like Lando trying to involve a very annoyed and confused Carlos in their things (safe for work, ofc). I don't really see a way out of it.

4) Daniel Ricciardo: I mention him but I can't really explain cause honestly my idea of Daniel third-wheeling Landoscar is either him babysit them around Australia and bonding with Oscar over weird aussie habits OR OR OR something very NOT SAFE WORK so ( ... )

5) Max Verstappen: I love to think he'll remain an unbothered king, you know? Like he's well aware and a bit upset that his crepes companion invited someone else (beside from Daniel) to their dessert dates and that the two of them acts like lovebirds even without an actual physical contact. He'll probably send SOS texts to Charles and Daniel until a topic of (his) interest comes out and honestly at that point the power of maxplaining will win over pretty much everything and everyone. At the end of the day Landoscar turn out to be the real victims.

6) George Russell: poor thing was originally invited for a golf morning from Carlos (Landoscar were already supposed to attend), but Chili called off last minute so Georgie ended up with just the others two. LET ME TELL YOU he jumped off the golf cart cause he saw Lando placing a hand on Oscar's thigh and feared for his life. It took several minutes for them to notice he was aggressively walking behind. He was also hit by a golf ball because Oscar distracted Lando for a second too long, I guess you can figure out the rest.

7) Special mention to the PR and the McLaren team in general who's main job rn is having them to SIMPLY F O C U S outside the pit for like interviews and debriefings. I can picture Lando losing it after hearing a single compliment like "SO YOU THINK I'M PRETTY", cause ✨babygirl✨ energy hitting here and there, even tho he has tried to be somehow a model for Oscar, at least for what concerns work. Indeed I pity trainers and strategists bc ofc Oscar listens at them, but image them trying to explain a concept to him just for Lando to get there and rephrase it in the dumbest way possible and Oscar going like OHHHHH NOW I GOT IT, COULDN'T YOU EXPLAIN IT THAT WAY?

8) This is mostly a guilty pleasure but do we all agree they torture the entire f1 group chat with their subtle flirting?

IDK if this was what you had in mind but I really REALLY had fun writing it.

So let me know what you think in the comments down below, if you agree or if you want me to make it longer and/or more detailed or just to focus on a specific one in particular?

Again, my dms and box section are open to discussions, requests and any sort of (respectful) thing!

PEACE OUT 🤌🏻❤️

[maximoffcarter]

Ice Queen 2.0.

Pairings: Casey Novak x Alex Cabot

Summary: Alexandra Cabot is known as the Ice Queen, and after a while, she learned to embrace it. Casey Novak, was known for her tough attitude and showed no fear. What happened when the squad gets on Novak's nerves?

A/n: I bring you another Calex one shot🫡This was requested by @saurgaeee so this is specially dedicated for them hehe. Yes, in my mind, this is set between S11 and S13 and Elliot is still there, Amanda and Amaro had joined, and that's that haha. I hope you guys enjoy this aaand if you have any more requests, please don't hesitate on sending an ask or message. I'm a nice person, I promise haha you don't have to be shy or afraid to talk to me. Enjoy and leave your comments, reblogs, hearts, whatever you'd like, will be very much appreciated🫶🏻

*not my gif*

Alexandra Cabot was known for being ‘The Ice Queen’, she couldn’t deny that for a while it annoyed to even hear that nickname, but after a while, she learn to grow into it because she figured out that people feared her, which made her powerful in some way, knowing people wouldn’t want to mess with her. She knew how to get what she wanted, and if she didn’t, she would go out of her way to do so. In court, she wasn’t playing, she was also not doing it to be in the headline of the newspaper, she wanted justice and if she had to be The Ice Queen to get it, then bring it on. Everyone already knew that if they got under her skin, they were done for sure, the whole squad had seen it, hell, the whole precinct had seen it. Casey had seen it. Of course it hadn’t been against her, never her. She was probably the only person that had been safe from the Ice Queen, even when she did something that could upset Alex, she could never stay upset, she was her girlfriend, she was her weakness, and people knew this, but even trying to have Casey there to protect themselves, it never worked. And honestly? Casey enjoyed it, she just laughed and was the person to say, I told you so.

And here they were once again. Another case that had been handed to Alex and once again, they were trying to have Alex as their servant, getting them warrants for everything when they didn’t even have any proof nor reason to get them. They felt entitled to demand Alex to get them, knowing perfectly that Petrovsky would never actually agree, and she’d get scolded again, and if that’s what they expected her to go through? They were completely in the wrong, and she was done listening to them yelling around, specially Elliot that always thought that because his gut told him so, things had to go his way.

“I will not tell you again. Do you want the warrant? Then find me something that actually works, find me evidence, a witness, anything that is not your stupid gut. If you think Petrovsky is going to give me the warrant just because your goddamn gut told you so, then you talk to her yourself. And let me tell you…if I get scolded for it, it’ll be ten times worst for you.” Alex grabbed her briefcase and looked at Elliot again. “Until you get me something good, don’t even think about calling me or making me waste my time again.”

Alex walked out of the room without looking at anyone else anymore, the whole room had gone quiet and there was no one who could say or stop her. She had said what she had said, and that was the end of it. They all looked at each other, almost speechless for what had just happened. It was even funny how they were so surprised knowing this was definitely not the first time that Alex had gone off on them like this, and certainly it wouldn’t be the last either. Casey just stood there staring at them, not a surprise in her face as she looked at everyone. Elliot then stared at her for a moment, his eyebrows raised as if questioning if she could do something. Almost begging her for anything.

Casey chuckled. “What? You really think I can convince her? After that? You’re out of your mind.” She grabbed her briefcase and shrugged. “You know she’s right. Petrovsky has her eyes on us as it is. Another stunt like this, and both of us will be sleeping in a cell.” She walked to the door and then looked back at Elliot. “Don’t test her, Stabler. You already know the Ice Queen.” She grinned before she left the office.

Casey had stopped to buy lunch for both of them, knowing that after that scene, Alex had completely forgotten that they were going to go for lunch after visiting the precinct. She went to her office to drop off her briefcase and coat and then headed to Alex’s office, who was at her desk reading through the files. Casey closed the door behind her and smiled once Alex looked up at her, an annoyed look on her face. Casey raised the bag of food in her hands and walked to the small table beside Alex’s desk, putting the bag on the table.

“That was quiet a scene.” Casey chuckled softly as she looked at Alex.

“I’m pretty sure the gray hairs I have are not because of my age but because of them.” Alex sighed as she dropped her pen and stood up, walking to Casey. “You know, the other day, Elliot asked me how it was possible that you dealt with me at home.” She grinned.

Casey shook her head. “Did he really say that?”

Alex shrugged. “I know he didn’t mean it. It was the heat of the moment.” She smiled as she looked at Casey, her hand going to Casey’s cheek and stroking it softly. “How do you deal with the Ice Queen back home, Ms. Novak?”

Casey chuckled softly as she placed her hands on Alex’s waist and pulled her close to her body. “I simply start the teasing and she’s over it in an instant.” She smirked.

Alex raised her brows playfully. “Sounds like a good way to get her out of her trance.” She giggled as she kissed Casey’s lips.

Casey smiled against her lips and raised her brow. “See? She’s now gone.” She pecked her lips. “So now, sit down and eat. I’ll help you out a bit before I have to go to my arraignment.”

“You’re an angel.” Alex smiled and sat down, opening the bag to get their food.

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

After the stunt that Elliot had put, he had come to an agreement with Alex once they found more evidence that Alex took to get the warrants they needed, which also helped her at the end to win the case. It was comical to see how after the case was over, either they won or lost, they completely forgot about the arguments or fights they had, sometimes it was taken personally, but they knew that after the stress and pressure, they could all say things they didn’t mean. And so, they all moved on. This is why they all got along so well, and they were a good team, they understood each other, and they’d always have each other’s back no matter what.

A few days after, they got another case, and this one was handed over to Casey, Alex had joked with them that if they didn’t want to get scolded again, maybe they should hand it to Casey, who seemed to deal with them better than Alex ever did. Yes, Casey got frustrated, she got into arguments with them, she had a tough attitude and always put everyone in their places, but they had not actually seen Casey going off like Alex had done so many times -that’s why the nickname-. As they went over the case, Casey already knew this would be a tough one; a group of teenage boys who raped three students plus the sister of a little girl, and two of those girls…were dead. Of course, the three teenagers had money, which made the case even harder because of missing evidence, missing witnesses, and a ton of bullshit from the attorneys. Casey had been in this situation before, and she didn’t want to make the same mistake again, she didn’t want to put the only victims and witnesses she had in the Grand Jury. She couldn’t risk it, she couldn’t possibly go through that ordeal again of convincing them to testify before the Grand Jury and then having them put in danger because they were brave enough to speak. She had gone over it with the whole squad, making it very clear that she’d only be presenting the statements and that was it, so they had to find more evidence to convict the three teenagers. But there was always the DA’s office that screwed up their plan and Casey always had to listen, more so after her suspension, she was afraid it would happen again.

Casey walked into her office and threw her briefcase to the floor, slamming the door closed and going to the very end of her office. Not only was the DA on her neck, but also Olivia and Amanda were eating her alive when she told them that the girls would testify, and she was still waiting on Elliot and Amaro to find out. Did they really think that it was in her hands? She wasn’t her own boss, she didn’t run the DA’s office. She had to go by the book, so they didn’t have her neck again, she was not about to lose her license. She really didn’t want to do this, she was willing to do everything in her power to not put those girls in that position, but now, she was in a position that if she didn’t do as she was told, they’d either pass the case to someone else, or she’d be punished. She groaned loudly as she slammed her hands on the table, and just in that moment, Alex walked into her office and closed the door behind her. She had gotten a call from Olivia, and she should go check on Casey, and here she was; her girlfriend leaning over the table without saying a word, but she could see her body was trembling.

“Case?”

“Not right now, Alex.”

Alex sighed softly as she looked at Casey again. “What happened?”

“Fucking Cutter happened.” Casey snapped as she breathed heavily, walking to the window, and looking out.

“Casey, the squad will make sure they are safe. Those bastards have hidden every possible evidence that can help you.”

“I know but…this is my case. He doesn’t believe that I have a case without the girls. I can actually do this.” Casey looked at Alex.

Alex walked to her and kissed the side of her head softly. “I know. We all know this. Cutter is just being an ass.” She whispered softly as she put a strand of hair behind her ear, kissing the side of her head again. “I know my girlfriend.” She grinned.

Casey smiled softly as she nodded. “Only you do.” She chuckled.

Before Alex could say anything else, Casey’s phone went off, making her sigh heavily and went to get her phone, picking up her briefcase and putting it on her desk. Alex walked to her and leaned over the desk, looking up at her girlfriend as she answered the call. She took her time to study her face for a moment, noticing that she had never seen Casey looking this upset, let alone trembling because she was upset, but she knew this case was important for her and she regretted a bit that she had denied to have this case because then, Casey wouldn’t be in this position. Just as she thought that Casey had calmed down, she could see that her cheeks gone red and before she knew it, Casey hung up the phone, grabbed her briefcase and out the door she was. Alex furrowed her brows for a moment but followed her rapidly. Something was definitely about to go down.

Normally, Alex wouldn’t be surprised on how fast Casey walked, after all, she played softball, but she was surprised right at this moment as she followed because she could barely get on her pace, and Casey was definitely in a trance because she didn’t hear Alex calling her name. She couldn’t even figure out what was going on before they were in front of the whole squad, Olivia turned to look at both women and she could already tell that they had done something and that was the reason Casey literally flew here. Alex just stood behind Casey, not sure what to do, but slightly jumped as Casey slammed her briefcase in one of their desks, staring at everyone.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Amanda turned to look at her and sighed softly. “We didn’t have another choice, Novak.”

“You didn’t have-“ Casey scoffed. “You should’ve called me. That was your other choice. You. Call. Me. You do know this will be mentioned in court, right? The defense will argue that you showed up without reason, threatened them and Petrovsky is gonna come for my head when she finds out what you all did.” She shook her head. “I’ll be the one in trouble, not you. And honestly? It’s all of your heads they should be after. This case can go to the trash for your stunt.”

“Call you?” Amaro furrowed his brows. “You wanted us to call you so you can tell us that you can’t get a warrant because we have nothing? Oh, no, we’ve heard that before. You think we’re not doing anything here, but we are.” He stood up from his chair and walked to Casey. “You are the one who is listening to whatever the DA’s office tells you and you don’t change a damn thing.”

Casey stared at him as if she could throw daggers with her eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“We know the girls are going to testify.” Olivia simply said as she looked at Casey.

“You cannot put those girls in the stand, Casey.” Amanda shook her head. “We know the power they have, they could be in danger.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Casey looked at her with a defying stare.

“It’s your case. It’s your choice. You’re the one putting them there! You said we had time to get evidence.” Amaro shrugged. “We’ll say that he attacked us, so we defended ourselves.”

“And you think they’re gonna buy that? You went to their house and beat up not only the father, but one of the boys. They’ll find out and then, they’re coming for our jobs. I am not risking that. I am not gonna risk my job.”

“Oh so, that’s what this is about. You care more about your job than the girls.”

“Drop it, Amaro.” Elliot said as he looked at him.

“No. She cares more about losing her job than putting the girls in danger. Rollins said it. They have money, they have power. Tomorrow the girls testify, and the next day, they’re dead somewhere in the city.”

“I do not want to put them there! Don’t you get it?! I talked to Cutter, I told him I can build a case and he said no. I cannot go above my boss.”

“You did it once! Do it again! It’s like you’re giving them the free pass to get these girls killed!”

“I don’t see you bringing me any evidence.” Casey snapped. “You stand here, ready to yell at me for something I do not have control over. You don’t want me putting them in there? Then get me fucking evidence. I cannot do your goddamn job, I have enough with mine already.” Her voice had changed, this was not Casey, this was ADA Novak. “And no. It is not my choice. I am not my own boss, if I was, trust me, I’d have your ass right now for being here and not looking for evidence. Don’t you think that I know what could happen if they testify? I fucking know, and you know that I know!”

“Do you, though?” Amaro snapped.

Casey was about to walk to him before Elliot stopped her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t pretend like I’m some cold hearted bitch who doesn’t give a shit about those girls! If I could, I wouldn’t be doing this, but I have no other choice. I want those assholes behind bars as much as you want!” Casey groaned as she looked at Elliot, pushing him so he could let go of her. She then looked back at Amaro. “I remind you we are in this together, I’m not on their side. So, if you want me to avoid this, get me some fucking evidence and don’t come for me again thinking you’re entitled to yell at me for something I don’t have control over. Go do your goddamn job instead of telling me how to do mine!”

Both Alex and Elliot stared at each other for a moment, not sure what had just happened. Amaro finally was left speechless and only nodded and walking away followed by Amanda, Fin, and Munch. The whole time that Casey had been yelling speaking, Alex had stared at the redhead with her mouth almost wide open and completely frozen as she listened. Casey was yelling at Amaro but for a moment she thought Casey was yelling at her. She knew the level of anger that Casey could get into, she had seen her in court many times, she had seen her angry, but she had never seen her lash out like this. She didn’t even know if she was scared, surprised, or even aroused by this. When Elliot stared at her, the only thing she could do was shrug, she then returned her stare at Casey who was shaking at this point, and Alex knew it was nothing but anger radiating through her body.

“Casey?” Elliot asked softly, looking between Olivia and Alex. “Are you okay?”

Casey looked at Elliot with furrowed brows. “Don’t you dare treat me like I’m fucking insane. I meant what I said.”

Elliot nodded. “I know.”

Casey slammed her hands on the desk and groaned. “Does he really think I’m that cold hearted? I know I’m not the ray of sunshine that they want me to be, but why does he think that I don’t care? I fucking care.”

Alex didn’t know what to do, she could see that Casey was still in a trance and it seemed like talking to Elliot was not working at all. Alex took a deep breath as she placed her hands on Casey’s shoulders and turned her so she could face Alex. “Casey. I need you to take a deep breath.”

Casey finally looked at Alex. “What?”

“I need you to calm down, baby. Can you take a deep breath?” Alex placed a hand on Casey’s chest feeling her heart beating fast.

“I don’t need to calm down. You heard what he said to me, and I-“

“My love…” Alex grabbed Casey’s hand and placed it on her chest so she could feel Alex’s heartbeat. “I need you to breath. Your heartbeat keeps racing. Can you do that for me?” Casey nodded as she took a deep breath. “Just like that. That’s it. Take another.” Alex took a deep breath along Casey, her eyes staring into green ones as they breathed out. “One more time, baby.” They took a deep breath and then breathed out together. “Do you need to take another?”

Casey shook her head. “No.” She looked down at her hands and furrowed her brows. “Why do you have my hand on your boobs?”

Alex chuckled. “My chest, actually. But close.” She smiled. She let go of her hand and placed both on Casey’s cheeks. “I lost you there for a second, you were in a trance.”

Casey sighed, letting her hand fall to Alex’s waist. “Amaro pissed me off.”

“He did.” Alex chuckled. “I think we’re gonna send the poor guy to therapy if he has both of us going off on him.”

Casey laughed with Alex, sighing softly. “I’m sorry. I…I guess I’m too stressed.”

“Just a bit.” Elliot grinned.

Casey looked back at Elliot and sighed again. “If you didn’t stop me, I think I would’ve slapped him or punch his in the face.”

Elliot nodded as he chuckled. “Yeah, I could tell. I preferred to stop you before you gave him a purple eye.” He rubbed her back and offered a smile. “Get out of here. We got this, okay? We know you’re doing the best you can.”

Olivia offered a smile as she nodded. “Amaro had no right to say those things to you. We know why you’re doing what you’re doing. And trust me, Casey, if there is no other option, we will definitely keep an eye on the girls until this is all over.”

Casey nodded softly. “Thanks guys.”

Elliot smiled. “We got your back.” He looked at Alex and nodded, walking away with Olivia.

Alex smiled softly as Casey returned her eyes to Alex. “I’ve never seen you like that before. Are you gonna turn into Ice Queen 2?”

“I’m probably heading there.” Casey grinned.

Alex smiled. “Then we’ll both be Ice Queens.” She giggled as she pulled Casey for a kiss. “Are you feeling better?”

Casey nodded. “I think so. I do need a break.”

“What do you say we go out for lunch? If they have something important, I’m sure they’ll call you.”

Casey nodded again and smiled. “I’d like that.”

Alex pecked her lips and then smirked. “Maybe if we have time, we can have some dessert. Just to relax a bit more.”

“Oh?” Casey raised her brow as she grinned. “Could we have dessert first?”

Alex chuckled. “I need you to have energy, so let’s go now so we have some time.” She winked at her as she grabbed her hand.

Maybe Casey and Alex weren’t that different after all, and Alex would definitely not admit that she got all hot watching Casey going off like that, cause she knew the teasing would never end.

[askew-d]

today i had an idea. that recess therapy channel, but make it wangxian.

teacher lan wangji, who recently adopted a-yuan, carried out his son’s desires to create a youtube channel interviewing other kids. he’s totally inept at it in the beginning, but fortunately his brother helps. and who would've thought? his son ends up making friends and he really finds children’s minds fascinating.

until their channel gets quite big. like, two million subscribers kind of big. other people interviewing him kind of big. and soon enough, his brother says, “wangji, huaisang wants to be part of one of your videos! he said it looks fun!”

nie huaisang didn’t have a large fanbase without reason. he was a well-known digital influencer with over ten million followers and a good writer. though lan wangji finds him odd sometimes, he accepts it. it couldn't bring any harm.

famous last words.

after nie huaisang, a lot of celebrities wanted to join in. lan wangji imagined it was for that facade of selling a good-hearted image inside the industry, but as long as a-yuan seemed to be enjoying, he continued.

in the two years he had the channel, he progressed to five million followers, hosted many top-tier artists along, interviewed hundred of kids — some more enthusiastic than others, that’s rather true — and received some proposals from famous entertainment companies to work with them, which annoyed lan wangji.

he continued being a teacher, a father and a host content creator for long, and one day, his son was checking his emails with him and jumped in excitement, “baba! look, look!”

lan wangji looked. it was a request from a certain wei wuxian’s agency, that, he later discovered, was one of the singer’s a-yuan and his close friends have been listening to lately. apparently, his rock band was very influential internationally, and when having a tour around china once more, he wanted to join for a video (why would his thirteen-year-old a-yuan be interested in rock music when humanity had the classical ones, he could never imagine).

lan wangji accepted, because again, it couldn’t do any harm.

well, maybe he should learn more about that expression, since wei wuxian was absolutely infuriating.

he was just a handsome, dauntless man in tight black pants and an oversized hoodie with the shiniest smile he has ever seen who got his son's favour in just minutes of conversation and could not, for the love of god, stop teasing lan wangji. lan wangji shouldn't be that affected by someone. he shouldn't be affected by the way he didn't care about social manners and plastered himself on lan wangji's side all the while he interviewed the kids as if they were intimate, but oh, what one shouldn't do truly wasn't how one acted or felt.

he found out that wei wuxian did have a good voice, although he secretly thought that he wasted it with those loud songs about rebelling against the government. he found out that he was exceptionally careful with children, withholding a balance of fun and wisdom; he had that carefree creativity and treated their worries with seriousness, struggling not to let them think he judged them childish. lan wangji was truly amazed at his character, and soon, they had recorded about four videos together.

and when it was all uploaded, the comments and views exploded. people focused more on them together than on the kids. it became the most viewed videos of his channels in no time.

"lan zhan, the numbers are growing each day! i'm so happy for that," wei wuxian said on the phone afterwards (when he proposed the idea of exchanging numbers, lan wangji was hesitant, but wei wuxian insisted that it was for them to share bunny videos, so he gave up on fighting the man, but weeks passed and they still talked more about their lives than just sharing said content). "but tell me, lan zhan, i think my amazing presence did bring some touch to your channel, won't you treat me to something as a sign of gratitude? you told me your family had a rule on being polite..."

they did have one. lan wangji told him once and it was enough to be engraved on wei wuxian's mind. he sighed and said, "mn. does wei ying want to have dinner with us tomorrow?"

wei wuxian laughed in apparent joy, and he shook his head slightly. it would be good to have someone over for dinner once in a while, beyond his brother. maybe he'd even buy some wine and meat for him, just as he said he liked.

lan wangji talked to wei wuxian some more, the other explaining about how his band would perform the upcoming sunday. they also talked about children, books and traveling. and on the other side of the room, a-yuan giggled in mischievousness.

[konigsprinzessin]

donnerkeil. part five, yandere!könig x reader

hey! sorry about the hiatus. not proofread. love you all.

mentally, he cursed you for not letting him in. he didn't care. why the hell would he? he would be too focused on you anyways. admittingly, he would've scoped out your apartment to find any thing he might wanna bring with him as a little memory of you. if he were to find your bra or panties casted aside on your bedroom floor he would try his hardest to conceal them within his palm.

his eyes got wide and almost frantically told you that your messy flat was no problem. he wish you would jump in and invite him anyways. he watched you fidget on your phone, asking again from his phone number.

which he gave you and then texting you right after. a few more minutes passed with you far too excited asking when he was free and asking könig questions about his policework.

policework? that's right. he kept his answers light responding with "its confidential". earning cute little laughs from your mouth. you wrapped up the conversation a bit worried that you were wasting his time. "i don't know what the word is english but im responsible for the entire unit and go to most calls because i'm...." he paused, trying to word in in english. he shook his head and spoke very fast in his native language "uh, i'm the top? i don't know how to say this." he laughed nervously. unbeknownst to you, both of these things were lies. his english was that of a native speaker's, hell, his english was probably better than yours. and that "police work" of his wasn't exactly as innocent and naive as he put it, the call about teenagers graffitiing buildings nor the call about the cat stuck under the family car were true. simple lies that made him look like a hero. someone to trust. how doesn't someone trust a giant that helps everyone. it tugged at your heart strings when he told you about an elderly woman that fell victim to an online dating scam- that one got you annoyed in particular, feeling enraged on behalf of some older woman that didn't exist nor did he save from wire fraud. he made all of it up to gain your trust. he wanted you to believe he was the local police chief with no hard crimes such as murder or rape to deal with. you admired this. the first outsider you meet is an older, native austrian working with the police helping and saving people.

that was charm. charming to you.

"well, if you give me a few hours i would be able to meet up tonight for drinks, im sure theres a bar nearby." you laughed as you handed his black cased phone back to him. you thought the suave was radiating off you, asking him out so calmly without fidgeting or shaking. you'd be thinking about him all day.

könig didn't want to wait. he wanted to push you back in the door where you'd fall on your ass and struggle to get up to defend yourself. even if you kicked and shoved you would be no match for his taller and bulkier frame. you were short and petite, without a weapon you were a frail mouse with no defense. even if locks were on the doors, he had a bobby pin laying about. he made a mental note of the locks and if needed, how he could make his way in.

not now. and not tonight. he would have to give it a few weeks for the chemistry to brew and bake until you felt comfortable with him. he knew his physique in itself was intimidating- which he loved to use to his own advantage.

"yes, of couse! although i have to be in the office early tomorrow so i can not be out until 3 or 4 in the morning." he had training at that time. if he wasn't asleep by midnight he would be an agitated mess at the gym. he had recently acquired a handful of new recruits that he would need to train this week. all the paperwork had been filled and finished last week so now the physical workouts called. he was curious to see how many would dropout within this week- maybe he would tell you that to fit along with his policeman job like an average civilian not a colonel from what some believed to be a terrorist group.

you hummed in response. "new recruits i have to train, i am curious to see how many will leave in the following weeks." he exhaled. knowing his time was running out and he would need to leave your doorstep. last thing he needed to do was give you the creeps and make you worried. you smiled at his comment, letting out a small chuckle.

"i hope they all stay, you seem to be a good trainer." you closed your eyes, crows feet appearing around your temporarily closed eyes. "you have a lot of muscle. that's something to be proud of, i can barely move my boxes around."

"ah, thank you, (y/n), i know for some it can be hard to stay focused and work out every day. it takes viel bestimmung oder ausdauer" he laughed, apologizing for not knowing the words in english. secretly, he hoped you would know but another part of him hoped not. he was cruel and calculated, he would keep you locked away and speak only in german and watch as you become more and more confused, frustrated and scared with the language barrier. just that thought made his heart pound a little faster. he didn't want to torture you- rather scare you into obedience and submission. as long he didn't physically hurt you then there was no harm in what he intended on doing. he reminded himself that and repeated it again to keep his head on straight. "and i can help you with the boxes, i don't want you to hurt yourself."

your eyes brightened at this idea. a godsend, you thought. you dreaded those boxes stuffed in the corner of your room. it was quite the eye soar and bothered you. the boys that lived above you were nice enough to help you move all of your stuff in, besides the heavier things like the entire refrigerator or microwave which you surely weren't able to install nor the heavier boxes filled with a myriad of trinkets.

"i didn't feel like brining half of the stuff in the boxes and coming back downstairs. it would take me too long." you sighed, scratching the side of your cheek. "i also have to install the microwave and fridge and i still have to call the maintenance guys." you half laughed partly out of embarrassment, still smiling nonetheless.

könig laughed at how flustered you looked with your cheeks turning into a bright pink. it reminded him of rose flowers. "i don't mind doing all of that right now for you, (y/n). only if you have time." with this he realized that you literally just have moved in. how could you not have these things set up by now? he was going to take you before any of the locals realized that you were settled down and lived there.

"well, i certainly do." you opened the door a bit wider for him. you sat the bread basket down on a high table adorned with your housekeys, a dish filled with rocks and photo of who he assumed was your family back home. he watched you slip off your flats, grab the basket and walk into what he guessed was your kitched. he also followed suit with his shoes not trying to be rude or give you any hint that he was off. you met him no longer than two hours ago and he was alone with you in your fucking house. gently, he placed both of his shoes side by side thinking how stupid you were. imagine, if he was malicious or had a gun? you would be robbed and dead by now. yet, you were a caring little thing. too innocent for this world. too innocent for him. all he had to do was rush you and choke you until you were unconscious and figure out a way to get out. he began to seriously contemplate thing noting the door behind him and the slightly open windows letting a draft in with open blinds as he made he way behind you.

there you stood, back to him with your hands on your hips. the refrigerator was laid horizontally on the wooden floor. granted, it was a small apartment but it could fit two people. it was most definitely built for students. the microwave laid door up on the kitchen countertop. könig found solace in how normal this all was, like he was an old friend using his muscle to help you move in or a couple just moving into a new apartment. he enjoyed the ladder more than the former by a longshot.

"im thinking the fridge goes here." you motioned to an empty spot in the kitchenette next to a plus, undoubtedly where the old tenants had it. könig watched you slide around with your white ankle socks on. he was jolting every few minutes with a primal instinct to cover your mouth and threaten to kill you if you didn't comply. he would never hurt you, just empty threats to keep you from running or screaming...or both. könig's mind went blank responding with nods and hums as you talked about where the fucking microwave should go. you should go, go with him to his place on the other side of the city. he only came back into reality when you struggled to pick up the metal microwave, which was too heavy for your little bones to carry. he thought how stupid he must've looked...how creepy he must've looked as you picked the metal up with him solely staring at you.