#you can’t deny it because then you’re being rude to this guys image of his daughter or whatever. crazy.

[constehlla]

This isn’t funny but it’s been stuck in my head which is basically the same thing

So. 38.

[manias-wordcount]

The Watchman (Keigo Takami)

Kinktober 2022 Day Eighteen: Mirror Sex

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

When you took the Pro Heo Hawks home from the club a couple of weeks ago, you thought he would be like every other guy you messed around with. But he was watching you from across the room with eyes you’ve never quite seen before. So what was the harm in saying “Yes” when he finally got around to asking if you wanted to get out of there?

 Still, you knew his type. You knew the type of all the men who went to this place. Selfish and quick to finish. Rude and brash. Only there for his fill and his fill alone. Never once caring about your needs or your pleasure or your comfort. Might even be the type of man that riles you up with promises of how good he’s gonna fuck you before dipping after a blowjob. And definitely the type of guy to fuck and tell. But to be fair, you weren’t looking for something great with Hawks. You weren’t even looking for something good with Hawks. You would have been quite satisfied with him being the newest notch in your bedpost. And stealing a feather or two for yourself, of course. 

 But that’s not how Hawks does things. Not then. 

 “Ah…wait, what are you-?”

 And certainly not now.

 “Shhh, don’t worry pretty girl. I’ll take care of you in a second.” He murmurs right into your ear as your confusion grows. He’s been over at your place for more than an hour. You’re willing to bet that he came here right after work based on the fact that he’s dressed in full uniform except for the jacket he threw in some corner of the room when he picked you up and started kissing you like he meant it. And maybe it’s just because you’re still waiting for that wake-up call to reality. Or maybe it’s because you just refuse to believe that someone who supposedly gets around as much as him would be like this to a girl he met only a few weeks ago. But…you can’t deny it. You can’t deny the image right in front of you. “Jus’ wanna look at you for now.”

 The image of him sitting behind you as he forces your legs open in the mirror. Eyes half-lidded and stare low as his pointer finger teases your puffy little clit.

 “Hawks…” You can’t help but turn your head and whine his name when the feather-like touches start to increase their pressure by just the tiniest bit. At the call of name, his eyes dart to your face. The gaze he gives you is so intense that it feels almost out of the place with the gentle way he uses his other hand to stroke your inner thigh, coaxing you to keep them open. It’s not the first time he’s looked at you like this. It’s not the first time he’s looked at you like you’re his prey. But he always manages to do it at the times you feel most vulnerable. Most surprised. Adored, even. “Hawks…um-”

 Behind him, his wings bristle. But you don’t get to focus on that flash of red for too long. Because all too soon, he’s adjusting his grip on you. No longer is it his pointer finger that rubs just up against your sensitive little button. Rather, it’s the rough pad of his thumb as his arm comes to wrap around your torso. It’s sudden, and it’s fast, and it’s unpredictable. It’s the kind of speed you would expect for a Pro Hero. From a predatory animal. But it has you losing your breath and squeaking out loud all the same. And when you try to run from the sudden feeling of his thumb rubbing wild circles into your clit by squeezing your legs together, he’s there to combat that too. All by using grabbing at the underside of your thigh and lifting it up and up and up to the point where all you can do is squirm around in his grip. Desperately trying to keep your sanity.

 “Keigo, princess,” He reminds you instead of answering the question you’ve been trying to get out ever since he stripped you down and sat you in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom. His voice takes on that familiar low tone he’s used on you. And it’s a voice you never really understood, but you’ve heard it often. It comes out whenever you tease him. Whenever you toy with him. When you tug the spot on his wings that makes him turned on while you brush past each other in public. And whenever you wear those tiny little outfits that have him dragging you around the corner and getting on his knees in front of you. But most of all? “When I’m alone- when I’m fucking you- you need to use my name. I need you to use my name. Okay?” 

 It’s the voice he uses whenever you forget to use his name.

 “Okay!” You’re squealing now, hips moving and shifting out of pure instinct as his thumb moves impossibly faster. He clicks his tongue- almost as if your agreement wasn’t a good enough response for him. So he takes it a step further as he spreads the lips of your pussy. It’s embarrassing. Completely, utterly embarrassed by just how exposed you feel. And for a second, you look at him as he watches your body through the mirror, and you wonder if all he’s going to do is admire the view. But that’s like him. That’s not like the man you got to know over these past few weeks. And safe to say, it only took a couple of seconds to prove you right. “Oh my god- Ah! Keigo!”

 This time, he makes a satisfied sound. Almost akin to a purr with how deep and low it resonates within you as you’re forced further back against his chest while he shoves two fingers into your wet, aching cunt. In an instant, the pleasure intensifies. Your breaths deepen. Your eyes start to struggle to stay open. Even your legs start to shake as he manages to find that spongy spot inside of you that really makes you feel good. And the sound your pussy makes as he pumps in and out of your heat while still managing to pay attention to your clit? You could swear it’s almost as loud as your whimpers and cries and moans of pleasure as he takes advantage of the situation to leave yet another mark on your neck. But this is what he wants. 

 This is what he wants from you. 

 He's not the type to fuck and fly around like you thought the was. He doesn't take home the first girl to throw himself at his feet. And he doesn’t waste your time trying to get a quick and unfeeling fuck whenever and wherever he can. No, he wants things like this. He wants your legs spread wide open for him and him alone. He wants your precious cunt exposed for him to touch and to toy with for as long as he wants. He wants you loud, and he wants you even louder. But most of all? He wants you to be pleasured. To feel pleasure. Like you never experienced. Like you never to be real. Like you never thought you would witness. All so he could watch with eyes, you’ve never quite seen before.

 The eyes of a man. A Pro Hero. An apex predator. Or rather…

 The eyes of a hawk.

[jostepherjoestar]

Maybe Jotaro, Risotto, Prosciutto, Bruno and Leone friendship HCs with a fem friend thats llike your generic dumbass but they are just like a soft dumbass, she is just too cute to get mad at no matter how stupid she is. So basically a smol sweet dumbass that just radiate baby energy. Like she just runs up to them saying she want to show them something cool and its just a pretty rock but she looks so happy xjsbkss 💖

Pure of heart, dumb of ass fem!friend with Jotaro, Risotto, Prosciutto, Bruno and Abbacchio HC’s

sfw // fem reader

lemme just say, reader is baby and that’s valid 🥰this is so adorably pure ugh ya done killed me anon 🥺💖✨(can very much relate tho, glad my friends put up with my dumb antics)

Jotaro:

“Why am I friends with you again? Yare yare...” A phrase you’ll hear every time you’re hanging out with this tall bastard. He’ll tease you for being a bit of a dumbass but is incredibly drawn to how kind, sweet and absolutely thoughtful you are.

You remind him of Josuke and Okuyasu which only makes him like you even more. And the added cuteness-factor made him admit to himself he does indeed love cute things, no matter how adamantly he denies it to you.

His favourite thing to do is bring you along to the beach for field research, knowing just how wide eyed and giddy you get when you’re allowed to collect shells and rocks or even poke a jellyfish. You seem very good at spotting irregularities in your surroundings, making quite the good assistant to Dr. Kujo.

You’re even allowed to help with lab research, studying petri dishes filled with algae as you excitedly point out a very important detail he hadn’t noticed yet, too tired from working such long hours. Sometimes you’re quite the genius without even trying.

More than anything he loves the amount of lightness you bring to his life, his studies and general headspace take a large toll on him. Any relief is a welcome one.

He’ll often find himself smiling at the thought of hanging out again, staring at the collection of trinkets he keeps in a cute little Hello Kitty box you once gave him, which rests on his nightstand as a reminder that it can’t hurt to adapt your lifestyle of mindless giddy; even just the tiniest bit.

Risotto:

Being close friends with Risotto seems a bit impossible without being in his squad, he’s very insistent at keeping outsiders of Passione more than an arm-length away. Good thing that the stoic man is your capo, phew!

He’s apprehensive at first, not really sure why the soft round pebble you brought him reminded you of the man as he studied the mineral, admiring its softness. “It’s like you! Soft and worn down, but very sturdy and unbreakable.” smiling sweetly at him, excitedly awaiting a response.

What was this new feeling of being appreciated and cared for? Risotto’s never really experienced a friendship so pure. He’ll quietly thank you for the pebble and keeps it on his desk, staring in awe as he’s reminded of your kind words every time he spots it.

He knows the others like to tease you for not always being aware of general human knowledge, shooting them an intense glare as a warning to keep any rude comments or jokes to themselves.

Your friendship consists of him mostly listening to you, quietly taking in all the stories you divulge- so full of excitement, telling him facts you picked up somewhere; the source of these often containing varying levels of credibility. He won’t correct you though. (unless it’s something that might actually endanger you)

He values your friendship so.much. He’s not used to being treated so kindly, receiving random gifts, being praised for a job well done, having someone who doesn’t judge him in the slightest. He’ll do whatever he needs to keep you safe, from others and yourself, along with trying to return your kindness and care. (he tries his best and it’s so cute)

(you guys hold hands for safety when you’re out in the city... just saying, it’s adorable)

Prosciutto:

Prosciutto has a chronic case of “caring older brother disease”. Will need to hold himself back from tying your shoelaces for you, the man knows you can do it it yourself but it’s just taking sooo long.

Just like Risotto, you’d have to be a team member to get close to him in any way. Good thing he recruited you ;)

It’s a bit hard to make him open up about anything personal. You feel like he knows everything about you, while you barely know a thing. When he sees your pouty lip and begging gaze that is way too cute to deny, he’ll cave. Perhaps finally realising it’s alright to lean on others.

He’ll still struggle with continuing the openness, but find relief in your loyalty and understanding. The way you intently listen to his troubles, there to hold his hand if he ever needs it, it makes his heart hurt to know how sweet and gentle you are.

Will keep you and Pesci separate during missions, he’s already getting a migraine from imaging everything that could go wrong without his guidance.

For someone who’s a little more on the dense side, you make up for it in emotional intelligence. Whenever you see how stressed he tends to get, eye twitching without even realising while his shoulders hunch together in discomfort, you come over to hug him. It’s something he had to get used to, the small gesture always calming him down enough to keep going.

Does not appreciate you slipping cute trinkets in his suit pocket. Especially not after finding a snail that one time. You’ve been forbidden from leaving pocket gifts since the incident.

Bruno:

It concerns Bruno just how clueless you can be from time to time. That one time they almost left you behind on a busy station with no cellphone because you found a coin on the ground made him realise you need some extra supervision.

He’s not the type to hold you back from doing things that are guaranteed to result in disaster (unless it’s literally deadly), he wants you to experience the consequences of your own actions.

You do make him hold back his laughter when you try out a stupid idea you know has failed in the past, but change your methods slightly to hope for better results. And you know what? Now he’s curious too.

The man has a weird sense of humour that sometimes even surprises you. He’ll copy your habit of picking up strange trinkets or rocks and asks you to compare findings with him. Like trading marbles, he’ll barter with a smirk.

“Mhh, if you give me that cute shell and that pointy rock... I’ll give you this keychain.” His alluring offer making you question if you’re getting swindled or not. “Hey! That shell is at least worth two stickers!” He’ll heartily laugh at your reply, a mischievous smile while thinking over the trade. “Ok, two stickers and a pebble then.”

With a firm handshake the deal goes through. The rest of the gang never knows how to respond, staring in amazement as their grown-ass capo barters with their grown-ass teammate. He loves being silly with you and forgetting all the pressures of life for just a moment.

Bruno takes his time opening up to you, but finds your presence so comforting it becomes very easy to trust you. As a vital part of his team he finds it important to be able to lean on each other for support and is glad you offer him just as much trust and loyalty.

Abbacchio:

Will never admit he can’t live without you anymore. You’ve become the shining beacon of assumed happiness the man never thought existed. He knows you won’t always be go-lucky and have your own troubles and struggles but admires how you handle them.

Don’t get me wrong, he’ll still gladly tease you for your occasional (well, more like frequent) stupidity. He’ll let you know with a big huff you should smarten up; “Read a book that doesn’t have pictures in it for once.”

He’ll be the first to correct any wrong info you’ve been given, unless he thinks it’s funny. Like when Mista made you believe you needed to order dessert at Libeccio or they’ll kick you out for breaking their beloved rule. It’s only when he saw the panic in your eyes when you finished your main course one day -too full for any sweets to come- that he assured you it was a dumb joke. (he’ll put all the blame on Mista)

Abbacchio seems to tether to people who have a positive influence on him without even realising, it won’t be obvious to him, but just like with his loyalty and admiration for Bruno, he’ll make sure you know it once he finds out.

Not that it’s a bad thing, his need to cling to anything that might help him stay afloat just needs to stay healthy. You didn’t even realise your effect on him, you were too busy trying to figure out a way to turn that scowl into that smirk.

After gifting him a handmade friendship bracelet that had the shortened versions of your names spelled on it, he hugged you. So tightly it was suffocating, you were shocked since he’s never been the touchy type. “Leone! I can’t breathe...” He’ll let go after the complaint but that look on his face will never leave your memory. The face of being loved unconditionally by choice, no matter how unworthy he might think himself of it.

[chaoticforever]

Ghost In Your Heart | Peter Parker x Male! Reader

Peter decided to eat the sandwich he got from Delmar's Deli & Grill at the park, since the crime rates this week have been kinda low, giving Peter some time to himself. 

He walked into the park and saw many parents sitting with their kids, adults playing frisbee with their dogs, and finally his gaze landed on someone sitting on the park bench with colored pencils and a sketchbook. 

He couldn't really make out your face from where he was standing, due to the fact that you were wearing a cap and your gaze was on your sketchbook. You looked very focused and concentrated on whatever you were drawing. 

Peter watched as you put down a blue colored pencil only to pick up a red one. 

He didn't know why he was so curious to see what you were drawing, but his interest was peaked and before he knew it, his legs started moving to where the drawing male was currently sitting. 

Displayed on the sketchbook was a drawing of Spiderman. 

To say that this person had artistic abilities would be an understatement. 

The picture was so well drawn that it looked realistic. Like it should be held in a museum. The image was Spiderman shooting a web shooter with a few other buildings in the background. This had to be one of the best art works that Peter has ever seen. 

"Don't you know it's rude to stare at random people or their artwork?" You questioned, looking up from your sketching and arching an eyebrow. 

Peter looked at you and blushed from slight embarrassment at being caught, as you waited for him to respond. 

"I'm really sorry for staring. It's just that your drawing looked so amazing and-"

A chuckle erupted from your throat,   "I'm just messing with you. It's okay to stare at my drawings. You want to see some more?" You offered, scooting over in case he wanted to sit down. 

Peter didn't really want to intrude on you having time to yourself. He did come here to eat his lunch, but he was curious to see what other drawings you had. 

He reluctantly sat down next to you on the bench, and placed his sandwich in his lap as you passed him the sketchbook. 

He flipped through various pages of the book and amazement was shown on the wall-crawler's face. 

The artistic abilities that you seemed to have was amazing. There were lots of drawings of people Peter has never seen before, so he assumed they were your family or friends. There were pictures of Mr. Stark in his Iron Man suit and some of Captain America. It's like you managed to capture who they really are in these drawings. 

"I know there not the best drawings but-"

"Are you kidding me? These drawings are amazing!" Peter commented, and a look of surprise and appreciation crossed your face. 

"Well, thank you..." You trailed off, wanting to know this male's name. 

"Oh, my name is Peter, Peter Parker." He introduced himself. 

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N. Y/N L/N." You introduced yourself, extending your hand out for a handshake. Peter shook your hand and was surprised that your hands were so cold and the tough grip you had, and you thought the same for Peter. 

You took your sketchbook back and picked up a drawing pencil, working on the drawing that you started earlier that day as Peter decided to finally eat his sandwich.

The two of you continued to speak, as Peter ate and you drawed.  

Peter glanced over to see what you were drawing next and he choked on his food, eyes widening in surprise, "You like Star Wars?" He asked, happiness welling up inside his chest. 

You gave him a slight nod of your head, "I love Star Wars. I'm secretly a nerd inside, so don't tell anyone about that." 

Multiple cop cars could be heard and seen following a black minivan, as Peter suddenly stood up, his spider senses going off like crazy. 

"I have to go now, Y/N. It was nice meeting you and I hope to see you again." 

Without waiting for a response, Peter ran off into the nearest alley. He quickly took off his clothes and put on his Spidey-Suit. He stuck his backpack somewhere where no one could find it, and used his web shooters to swing from building to building to catch the criminals in the black minivan. 

After fighting criminals, patrolling the neighborhood, and eating dinner with Aunt May, Peter flopped onto his bed and his mind drifted to thoughts of you. 

Mysterious was one word to describe you. 

He wondered why he had never seen you before. You looked to be around his age, 18/19 years old. He wondered if you went to Midtown High. He never saw you around school before, so maybe you haven't enrolled yet? 

You seem very smart and well educated that made Peter think that you went to Midtown High, but there are other schools in New York, so maybe you just went to a different school. 

He hoped that he would see you again. 

He didn't know why he wanted to see someone he has never seen before, but you intrigued him. He remembered everything about you. You're amazing lookin' H/C hair, shiny E/C eyes, and the scar you had above your eyebrow. 

Peter wondered how you got that scar. He hoped to learn more things about his new friend and would stop by the park to see you again. He hoped that you went to Midtown High. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

It has been a month since Peter met you and he couldn't have been any more happier than he was when was with you.

Peter has been stopping by the park to see you whenever he got the chance, and he loved talking to you about everything and nothing. He mostly loved being in your presence. 

Ned even noticed how happy he looked and more vibrant he became. He would tease Peter all the time that he had a boyfriend to which he denied and blushed bright red. 

Although, he did find you attractive and might have masturbated to you a couple times, it was pretty obvious that you were straight, so nothing could happen between you guys anyway even though he wanted more. 

"Do you go to Midtown High?" Peter asked the question that has been on his mind. 

You rubbed the back of your neck and ran your fingers over the small cut, "Um, I used to go to that school, but I left during my Junior year." You answered. 

"Oh, so are you homeschooled?" 

Peter figured that if you weren't in regular school, then you had to be homeschooled and that would explain why he hasn't seen you around. 

"Something like that." You laughed, bringing your gaze down to your sketchbook. 

"Do your parents know that you spend most of your time in the park?" Ned asked, having heard from Peter that you spend most of your time here. 

"Uh, they really don't care where I'm at." You replied, voice low that made Ned think that he shouldn't have asked that question. Peter hoped the question didn't offend you in any way, but it seemed that it might have. 

Luckily, you didn't seem too upset and changed the conversation. 

The conversation launched into Ned and Peter nerding out about star wars with you chiming in occasionally, as you looked through the sketches you've drawn. 

"Uh, Y/N. Do you maybe wanna help me and Ned build an enormous Death Star LEGO set?" Peter asked with a mix of nervousness and hopefulness in his voice, silently waiting and hoping that you would say yes. Ned wanted the same thing, too. 

You gave the two an apologetic look which resulted in a slight frown on Peter's face. He really wanted to spend time with you somewhere other than the park, but he figured you were busy. You most likely had other friends to hang with, after all. Or spending time with other people. 

"I can't do that because unfortunately, I've been dead since 1995." 

XXXXX XXXXX

[shuahoonie]

holidays with tom [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader 

SUMMARY: life isn’t exactly back to normal. with another lockdown in place and the holiday season is vastly approaching, you and tom are stuck in quarantine with each other the problem? there was supposed to be at least 5 of you in that house and tom is the last person you want to be with. shouldn’t be too bad right? 

WARNINGS: in no particular order swearing—err foul language lmao, sexual innuendos, things get heated but not that much??? exuding sexual tension but also fluff??? alcohol consumption, a series of bad decisions??? idk writing this made me experience the 5 stages of grief tbh lmao it’s not that bad I promise lmao

WORD COUNT: 6.9k! 

A/N: hello and happy new year! I was supposed to post this during Christmas Day but guess who got into a writing rut—yet again. I didn’t want to abandon this because I actually had fun writing it. I hope you all had a festive and safe holiday. I know things have been hard but I still hope you guys enjoyed the holiday. 

2020 has finally came to an end and we’re all ending it the same way when the pandemic started—staying at home, hopefully following the appropriate health measures. I can only hope that 2021 is a brighter and hopeful year for all of us.

stay safe, sending u all my love. 

gif credits: @underoos-shield​ 

vanessa’s masterlist | taglist form 

Two hours. It’s been two hours since you found out that you were going to spend your holidays alone. You were aware that you weren’t going to spend your holidays with your family as you normally would, embracing the fact that working in a different country whilst in the middle of a pandemic was going to be challenging. 

Working in the film industry, constantly visiting sets while still living in a pandemic means that you threw away your chances of being home for the holidays. However, you weren’t entirely the only one who shares a similar struggle. 

“We should still do something for Christmas, you know,” Tom muttered as he watched you lay down on the sofa, your head is supported by the armrest. 

See—it should’ve been you, Ophelia, Alex, William, and Tom in that AirBnB, not just you and Tom.

The five of you reside abroad, however, you all had to fly to Los Angeles for work. You all collectively knew that it would be irresponsible to fly home for the holidays and it wouldn’t make any sense as you would all fly back for work anyway. 

The five of you had a brilliant idea of renting an AirBnB for the holidays since you were all in each other’s personal and work bubble anyway. Obviously, the three of them bailed as they’ve decided to stay with their partners instead, leaving you and Tom alone—which is the last thing you’ve wanted. 

“There’s just us two, Tom,” You replied as you sent a lengthy text to Ophelia, telling and reminding them about what happened between you and Tom.  “I’m not entirely sure if it’s worth anything if we did plan on doing something remotely festive.” 

There are four more days till Christmas and if you were being honest, the last time you felt festive was on the 18th of December...of 2019. 

“Surely there’s something we can do, right?” Tom’s optimism still shined beneath him. “This year has already been shitty enough, we don’t need to feed more into that.” 

The three dots bubble immediately popped up on your message thread with Ophelia as soon as you sent your passive-aggressive rant. Your focus was now on your phone. 

Suddenly, Tom’s face appeared on top of yours—his face was definitely close enough that it’s not CDC approved. He was standing on side of the sofa, both of his palms planted against the armrest as he loomed over you. 

“What do you and your family do during Christmas?” He dared to ask as if he wasn’t towering over you.

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Uh—give each other personal space?” You answered out of sheer reflex. You always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, especially when it sounds rude to other people. In your defence, being unable to do so has helped you put people back in place. 

To be fair, you were used to people standing at least 6 ft away from you ever since the pandemic started. 

Tom’s cheeks went bright red. “’m sorry,” He apologized, giving you a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck. You muttered a quick apology too, for acting so rashly. 

You rose from your position and sat upright instead. “Well, we never do anything special during Christmas,” You said as you threw your hair into a bun. “We usually just go to the movies on Christmas Day because that’s the only thing you can do back when life was normal.” 

Tom nodded understandingly as if he was taking this into account. Now you were curious. 

“Do you guys do anything special for Christmas?” You asked him. 

“Well, on Christmas Day, we would usually just lounge around the house and use it as a chance for me and my family to catch up,” Tom replied. “However, on Christmas Eve, my mum always made sure my brothers and I would have this scavenger hunt to look for our gifts—It’s really fun, actually.” Tom smiled sadly. 

You could easily see how Tom was genuinely broken about not being able to be around his family over the holidays. Heck—he really just misses his family. But who wouldn’t? Britney Spears didn’t sing the line “my loneliness is killing me” for nothing. 

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. Aside from biting your tongue, being able to easily comfort people was one of your weaknesses too. 

“Oh, there’s nothing to be sorry about, darling.” Tom quickly dismissed the genuine heartbreak he was trying to hide. “We’re all making sacrifices and we chose to be responsible for the benefit of other people.” 

“Yeah, I know.” You said softly. “We’ll just try our best to make something out of this holiday season. I mean—we have to or else we’ll welcome 2021 with a fresh face of misery.” 

“I’m sorry!” Ophelia pouted at the screen as they mindlessly walked around their partner’s place, something that most people do when they’re on the phone with someone. “I genuinely forgot about what happened between you and Tom.” 

“Well, Ollie, it seems like you weren’t the only one.” You replied, adjusting your glasses. Tom seems to be genuinely fine around you, no awkward tensions or anything. If anything, it’s just you who feels weird around him. “But I guess that’s a good thing right?” 

Ophelia forced a smile but they couldn’t, for the life of them, say anything about it. 

“Oh my god,” You sighed “Seriously, Ollie?” 

“It’s just—how could he forget?! You were literally on top of him as I recall and that very much left a permanent image on my mind. I—You know, I really tried my best to forget that ever existing in my mind. So really, if anything, it’s your fault.” Ophelia rambled on. 

“I—I wasn’t on top of him. That’s absurd! I was merely pressed against him” You said defensively, in which Ophelia just laughed atrociously. “Why am I friends with you again?!” You asked rhetorically, bewildered by the fact that you two lasted this long. 

“First of all, that is a hate crime. Second, I’m cool—like everyone wants to be my friend and you should be glad that I gave you the privilege to be even on a nickname basis as me.” 

You rolled your eyes at them. Despite the never-ending banter, you were grateful to have Ophelia as your friend. 

“But seriously, Y/N,” Ophelia said, “You can always just stay with me and Ericka. She’ll be glad to have you over for the holidays.”

“Ollie, as much as I love spending time with you two—I can’t stand being a third-wheel, especially when it comes to the both of you. You two are inseparable when you’re together.” You replied. “I appreciate the offer though.” You smiled at her. 

“I’m just saying—” Ophelia replied, shrugging her shoulder. “Unless you and Tom really want to have the house by yourselves.” They sang teasingly.

“Ophelia!” You gasped. 

“What?” They feigned innocence. “I gave you an option to stay with us! Plus, I know Alex and Will are would’ve asked you to stay with them if they had any idea what happened between you two.” 

“I can’t leave him!” You started to whisper “Tom seems genuinely bummed being here. I can’t just do that to him.” 

It’s as if a light came on inside them. Ophelia started to smirk and you recognized that smirk from anywhere. For christ’s sake, their eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. It drove you nuts. “I fucking knew it.” 

“What?” 

“You like him don’t you?!” They teased, but all you could do was blush. 

“I do not!” You denied it as you could still feel the burning heat emitting from your cheeks. 

“His tongue is that good huh?” Ophelia decided to pry even further. They clearly find enjoyment as you squirmed your way out of this conversation. 

“Bitch, I am ending this call.” That was all you could say. Even if you did find a smart retort, it was no use, especially with Ophelia. They can see right through you and there’s no point in trying to hide it. 

“Honestly, Y/N, we’re living through a pandemic. If there’s any time to make any rash decisions, it’s now. Go get that dick, bih—” 

You drowned out whatever Ophelia was trying to say with your goodbyes and proceeded to end the call. The one time you asked your friend to be serious and they come up with this. 

So—what really happened with you and Tom? 

It was two years ago. You were at a party that you didn’t even plan on attending. However, you were dragged by Ophelia and their partner, Ericka—your new friends in the area. You couldn’t say no to them, they were your first friend in LA! 

You thought about it though, saying no. But when you got a message from your friend back in Canada sending a photo of your boyfriend ex-boyfriend (the same guy who had ghosted you ever since you moved to LA), swapping spits with another girl, you suddenly had the strong urge to drink until you die of alcohol poisoning.

You were burning with anger that you really felt tears pricking your eyes. You were so close to crying or punching someone—whichever comes first.  

One thing’s for sure, though, you weren’t going to cry over a man. So what did you do? “Ophelia, where’s the booze?!” You asked your friend whose eyes nearly popped out of their head. 

Well, you weren’t really going to punch a stranger. Though you felt this burning sense of violence, it’d be much more satisfying to punch the living daylights out on your ex. 

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?” That line always puts on the waterworks, no?  Ophelia was clearly concerned about your newfound thirst for alcohol. 

You furiously wiped the tears off your face. “Um just found out my boyfriend—er ex-boyfriend, who stopped talking to me as soon as I moved here, is seeing someone else now? I don’t know, am I allowed to feel angry when I don’t even know if we’re still together as soon I moved? Fuck—” You tried to explain as you wiped every tear that left your eyes. 

“Oh—of course, hon.” Ericka who handed you a drink. You weren’t exactly sure what it is, but you knew it has alcohol in it and that’s all that matters. You gulped the entire thing and you wanted more. “Y/N, you need to slow down.”

“Are you sure you want to stay? I mean we can crash at our place, eat take-outs, watch movies and be totally disconnected from the world.” Ophelia suggested, but you shook your head furiously. 

“No, I—I’m ok.” You answered “I can’t let the both of you be stuck in misery with me. I need this. I’ll get drunk and if I'm up for it, I’ll hook up with someone. It’s not a healthy coping method but I really want this night to be a series of bad decisions. I don’t want to be myself, even just tonight.”

 So that’s what you did. You were going from one drink to another in record time. Both Ophelia and Ericka kept an eye on you, just in case someone tried to take advantage of your drunken state. 

You were talking to some guy you met in the kitchen, one thing led to another and next thing you knew, you were making out with this dude in someone’s bathroom. Ophelia and Ericka were drunk enough to pester the guy you were making out with but not drunk 

As you were propped on top of the sink and your legs wrapped around his waist, you felt every bit of his lips explore the side of your neck as his hands explored every inch of your body. With his hand under your shirt and his fingers tracing every part of your skin, it just reminded you of how lonely you were. 

Here you were, a thousand miles away from home, all alone just so you could do the one thing you really love. Your family would sometimes call to check up on you but it just wasn’t the same. Your ex tried to guilt you into staying in Canada, but you couldn’t do that. You love what you do and you love yourself too. 

You were willing to risk everything, even if happiness came at a price. 

Now you were crying, and the guy you were making out with definitely noticed. 

“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked as he pulled down your shirt. 

“No—no, I’m just—” You tried to calm yourself down. “I’m not sure if I want to do this anymore.” 

“That’s alright,” He mumbled wiping the tears off your face. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem rattled.” 

“It’s just I’m so tired of pretending everything is alright—that I’m okay being alone, that I don’t need anyone. But it’s just so hard because I’m—” You sobbed “I’m so fucking lonely. I’m so tired of being alone.” 

The guy tucked the stray piece of hair behind your ears as he carefully wiped your tears with his thumb. He was just silent as he listened to you sob. 

“I’m sorry, I know you definitely didn’t come to this party to watch a complete stranger cry over something stupid.” You couldn’t even look him in the eye, you were embarrassed as this was the first time you felt really vulnerable—especially in front of a stranger. 

“No, you’re alright.” He tried to console you “I think that’s the beauty in strangers, no? You can act and do whatever you want in front of them because there’s a slim chance you’ll ever see them again.” 

You were definitely drunk enough that trying to make sense of who the person was a struggle enough of itself. You tried your best to look at the guy but your vision was getting hazy and you could feel your head thumping that focusing made you feel like you want to crack your head in half. 

A loud knock on the door caused you two to jump. “I’m coming in,” Ophelia yelled and opened the door. Ophelia looked at the guy for a while, trying to make sense of who he was before their eyes widened. “I remember now—You’re Tom Holland.”

Imagine your surprise when you found out that you were going to work with Tom Holland for a while. You tried your best to avoid Tom at work but of course, that didn’t work out. He never brought up what happened between you two and you assumed he probably forgot all about it.

You tried to rationalize that he meets a lot of people every day. Surely, one failed hook-up wasn’t worth remembering (especially with alcohol involved) and you held on to that. 

At least that’s what makes you sleep at night and also one of the reasons why you considered spending the holidays with him. However, you were also expecting your crew friends to stay with you and not just Tom. 

“Y/N, did you like the gift? It’s from me and Ericka!” Ophelia asked. It was the next day and you two were just chatting on FaceTime. You were sorting out your closet out of sheer boredom. You figured if you were going to stay here for three weeks, the least you could do was sort your clothes out. 

You stared at the neatly wrapped box that Ophelia and Ericka dropped off earlier this morning. “I haven’t opened it yet.” You said as you showed them the box. “I wanna open it till Christmas.” 

“Oh my god, just open it. Christmas doesn’t exist this year, babe.” Ophelia waved their hand, encouraging you to open it. 

“Fine,” You gave in. You opened the box and saw a very lush and well-made lingerie set. “Ophelia, what the fuck” You gasped. You held out the lingerie in front of the camera. 

“Y/N, I definitely outdid myself this time.” Ophelia sighed happily, staring at the screen. “Try it on!”

“Ollie, this is gorgeous but when am I ever going to use this?” You asked holding it out on your body and looking at the mirror. 

“Uh—you’re stuck at home with your failed but also potential hookup,” Ollie suggested, wiggling their eyebrows. “Who knows what might happen?”  

You rolled your eyes at them. “Bold of you assume that something might happen.”

“Something won’t happen if you don’t try that one,” Ophelia said. “C’mon, I wanna see.” 

You shook your head and went out of frame in order to strip off your clothes. You tried on the lingerie—it’s a black lace teddy with a very exposing back. IT fit you perfectly—it accentuated your figure and definitely showed off your boobs. You weren’t really fond of showing off your body but you still tried your best to show it to your friend. 

“What do you think?” You asked, stepping back to the frame. 

“You look gorgeous, babe!” Ophelia squealed. “I knew I made the right choice with black.” 

“I still don’t know where I should wear this though—” You were stopped mid-sentence when your door swung open. 

“I know what we’re doing this—Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” Tom stood there, frozen, his eyes widened and immediately shut the door. 

You couldn’t even say anything. You were frozen in shock.

“Was that Tom?” Ophelia asked from the call, briefly forgetting that you were talking to them through FaceTime. 

You nodded slowly, unable to talk.

“What did he think?” Ophelia asked excitedly. 

You snapped out of this haze. “Ollie,” you groaned. “I think he was mentally scarred. 

“What do you mean scarred? You look great!” Ophelia said, appalled. “If he doesn’t think you look banging in that lingerie then it’s his loss.” 

“I gotta go, I need to change.” You said, bidding Ophelia goodbye. “Thanks for the gift, Ollie. Tell Ericka thanks too.” 

You ended the call and changed into comfier clothes. You couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you’re going to face Tom now that he’s seen you practically naked. Well, it’s not like that’s a new sight. He did see you with your bra on when you were making out in the bathroom that one time. But still! 

Are you actually going to spend your Christmas in your room?

It was the next day and there are only two more days till Christmas. You spent the entirety of last night in your room after the incident between you and Tom. 

You were about to make yourself some coffee when you found Tom in the kitchen, making tea for himself. You stood there frozen, wondering if you were going to proceed to the kitchen or just run back to your room since Tom hasn’t noticed you—

“Oh—good morning, Y/N.” So close. 

You smiled at Tom and said, “Good morning, Tom.” 

You grabbed a coffee pod and waited for the Keurig to make your coffee. You leaned back against the counter and fiddled with your phone—all in the hopes that things move quickly and for this awkward tension to be over. 

Honestly, why were you so worked up about it? People have seen you in a bikini before and that’s no different from lingerie. If anything, lingerie is itchier and has lace. You should be able to feel confident in your own body and you shouldn’t have to mind what other people think of it. It’s yours alone and it’s your opinion that should matter—

“I’m terribly sorry about last night, Y/N.” Tom apologized, sincerity was written all over his face. “I should’ve knocked and I just got so bloody excited about what we can do over Christmas—but that’s no excuse for what I’ve done. What I did was incredibly intrusive and you deserve a proper apology.”

“Tom, I—”

“I wanted to apologize last night—over dinner—but you didn’t come down to eat, so I figured you didn’t want to talk. “ He rambled on. 

“Tom—” 

“But even then I should’ve asked you to come down and eat dinner because that’s what any decent human would do! And yet I didn’t. God—I’m just doing one wrong thing after another—” 

“Tom, listen to me.” 

“Hm?” He finally snapped out and looked at you in the eyes. 

“It’s okay. It was an honest mistake and you sincerely apologized, and for me, that’s enough.” You smiled softly at him. “So—what’s this thing you planned over Christmas?” 

“I was thinking we could do both our family traditions over the next two days. My family and I usually do a roast dinner and open our Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve. Then on the 25th, we can watch movies all day just like you do with your family.” Tom grinned, clearly satisfied with his plan. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” You smiled “However, I don’t think we have any ingredients for a roast dinner and we don’t really have Christmas stockings. Well—I don’t have any Christmas stockings and stocking stuffers.” 

“That’s true,” Tom mumbled “But I have to do the food shopping anyway. We’re running low on food and I couldn't really book one of those online delivery things that most groceries now offer.” 

You nodded. “Okay, so I guess I have to get the house sorted then.” 

When you two first arrived in this AirBnB a few days ago, it had already been decorated for Christmas. It had a massive tree in the living room decorated with stunning and intricately-themed ornaments. Christmas garlands were wrapped around the stair-bannisters and foliages were placed by the fireplace and the tables. 

All you really had to do was clean the place—do a bit of vacuuming and get things nice and neat for Christmas. It didn’t take you too long to do it too. It had only been a couple of minutes since Tom left to do the food shopping and you prayed to the gods that he doesn’t get too much attention whilst out. 

You figured you might as well do some last-minute shopping while Tom was out, so you can grab gifts for him as well. After all, this whole thing was orchestrated by Tom and you don’t even have anything to give him for his stockings. 

You arrived at your AirBnB a tad later than Tom. He was in the kitchen putting things away when he saw you walk through the door. 

“Ah, I was wondering whether I spooked you with my plan,” Tom commented, making you chuckle and roll your eyes. 

“Trust me, I would’ve made it very obvious if you did.” You replied, earning a laugh from Tom. “I went out to do my last-minute shopping. Granted, it’s not ideal since we’re still living through a pandemic, but there’s not actually that many people where I went to considering it’s the Christmas rush.” 

You made sure to hide the stuff you bought using the handmade tote bags that a friend gave you for your birthday. No retail bags, no clue. “How did you survive the groceries? I bet it’s busy out there.” 

“Yeah, it was.” Tom chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Remind me to never do that again for Christmas.” 

“Sure,” You said, “That is if I spend another Christmas with you.” You said jokingly, hoping that Tom didn’t find that rude. 

“You’ll never know,” Tom shrugged. “What if you liked our Christmas this year and you’d be begging to spend Christmas with me and my family in London,” Tom smirked, playing along. 

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “If anyone’s begging, it’s going to be you.”

Tom stepped closer, “Wanna bet?” He whispered, a teasing look in his eyes. “Whoever has the most fun during our respective holiday traditions would have to spend the holidays with them next year.” 

“Oh, you’re on, Holland.” You took a step closer. “We will both film our holidays for the entire two days and then we’ll ask Ophelia, Alex, and Will to vote whoever looks like they had the most fun.”

“Okay,” Tom nodded “But no editing! We’ll give them raw footage so there are no chances of tampering.” 

You laughed but you agreed anyway. “Of course, we’ll give them hours of footage. The least we could do is make them sit through hours of content after they ditched us all alone on the holidays.” 

Tom gave a broad smile. “Let the festivities begin.” 

It was the 24th of December—Christmas Eve. You spent the entirety of last night wrapping Tom’s presents for later. Not that you despise Christmas, but it’s been a while since you were actually excited to celebrate it. It was pretty clear that the magic of Christmas dies once you grow up. 

Today was different; you were looking forward to whatever Tom has installed for tonight. 

You went downstairs to make some breakfast only to be greeted by Tom blasting Christmas music and preparing some ingredients for breakfast in the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Y/N, happy Christmas Eve,” Tom greeted with a huge grin. “Say, hi to the camera.” 

“Oh, we’re starting this early, huh?” You asked, putting your hair into a loose ponytail. 

“Why of course, we have to make the best out of this,” Tom said, holding the camera to your face. “I made you coffee.” Tom handed you a cup of coffee. 

“Are you using my love for coffee as an advantage?” You tried to hide your smile while drinking your coffee. 

“Obviously not,” Tom feigned his innocence. “I obviously did not know you were obsessed with coffee—it’s not like I don’t see you on set without one.” He mumbled in which you definitely heard, giving him a smack on the head. “Ow! I’m kidding.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “So, what’s for breakfast?” 

“We’re going to make french crèpes,” Tom replied and propped the camera on the kitchen island, facing the two of you. 

“Do you know how to make french crèpes?” You asked, washing your hands. 

Tom blinked, almost trying to decide whether he wants to be honest or impressive. “Do you know how to make french crèpes?” He returned the question. 

“Oh honey, my mom resents me in the kitchen.” You replied, taking a sip from your coffee. “But you know, I manage.” You murmured.

“That’s giving me a lot of hope, darling, thank you.” He said half-heartedly. 

“Shut up,” You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Tom, honestly, most of the footage is just us bantering for 20 minutes.” 

“To be fair, that’s part of the fun.” Tom smiled. “Okay, I think you just mix all of these in a bowl. Start with the dry ingredients first.” He said, looking at the recipe on his phone.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard,” You commented pouring the ingredients into the bowl. As you started all of the ingredients together, you noticed small lumps forming in the batter. “Tom, did you sift the dry ingredients by chance?” 

“You were supposed to sift it?” He asked, completely clueless. 

You nodded slowly. Panic was now clearly painted on his face. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him. 

It was not fine. The first time you two tried to pour the batter in the pan, you burnt the entire thing. It’s not even the cute, lightly burnt crepe. It was activating the smoke alarm-burnt crepe. 

The next one was pancake-like. The next one after that had pocket flours on the crepes because you two didn’t sift your dry ingredients beforehand. You ran out of the batter when you two finally got the consistency right—you managed to get one proper crepe from the entire batter. 

“I feel like Sam would probably curse me out as soon as he finds out I fucked up a simple crepe,” Tom said, delicately filling the crepe with creme and berries. “My brother’s done so well in culinary school.” He cut a piece with his fork and brought it to your mouth.

“Well, you can’t have everything.” You said taking a bite out of the crepe. “This is better than the last one.” 

Tom nodded, taking a bite of it himself. “It’s not as tasty as Sam’s but I’ll take it.” 

“Now, I’m curious as to what your brother’s cooking tastes like.” You commented taking another bite from the crepe. 

“I guess I’ll just take you home to London to find out,” Tom teased with an annoying grin. 

“As long as I’m being fed, I’m fine with it.” You remarked. What in god’s name are you are you two playing?!

The day rolled by very quickly. It was already evening when you finished wrapping the presents for your friends. You plan on dropping it off tomorrow before you persuade Tom to glue yourselves on the couch for the entire day. 

You grabbed all of Tom’s gifts—Christmas stocking included— when you went downstairs, only to be greeted by someone yelling at Tom through his phone. 

“I did everything right, Sam. I don’t know why you’re yelling.” Tom yelled back at his phone. His back was turned against you as he was putting away the pots and pans that he used. 

You quietly walked up behind him and said calmly, “Why are you yelling?” 

Tom probably jumped six feet away from you, making you laugh. You always forget that he gets scared easily. “Holy shit, don’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Tom breathed out, putting a hand over his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” You said whilst laughing. “I promise I won’t do it again.” Tom rolled his eyes, murmuring something about you being insincere about it. 

“Please do it again!” You heard, whom you assume is Sam, say from the background. You looked at Tom’s phone that’s propped on the island and saw his brothers on FaceTime. 

You beamed at them. “Any recommendations?” You asked, hearing Tom groan behind you. 

“Well, he hates—” 

“This is the last thing I want in 2020, for my brothers and Y/N to conspire against me,” Tom said loudly on purpose, drowning his brothers' voices.

“Tom, don’t be rude. Let your brothers finish—” Tom put his hand against your mouth. 

“I’ll call you guys later,” Tom said “Wave goodbye, Y/N.” He used his free hand to grab your hand and forced a wave towards his brothers. The call soon came to an end and you could only roll your eyes at Tom. You seem to do that a lot around him. You also do a lot of that when you try to hide your feelings towards a person you like but that’s beside the point. 

“So are we going to have dinner first or are we going to do presents first?” You asked fixing your Christmas sweater, a gift from your parents since you and your family usually wear matching sweaters for Christmas. “Or are you the type to wait until Christmas Day to open presents?” 

“We can do the Christmas stockings after dinner tonight, then do the presents tomorrow, if you’d like,” Tom answered with his arms crossed. 

You shrugged, telling him it doesn’t matter since you don’t really go all out on Christmas. Your family on the other hand—the house is always full of people, especially since most of your extended family are usually around during the holidays. You had this ongoing game you made for yourself whether or not you’ll be able to greet everyone with the number of people in the house. 

You could only guess how quiet your family’s Christmas is going to be. You definitely needed to call your parents later. 

“Is the sweater that itchy, Y/N?” You heard Tom ask, breaking away from your thoughts. 

“Huh?” You asked, confused. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been scratching yourself subconsciously. 

“You’ve been scratching yourself since I saw you.” Tom said, chuckling. “It’s a cute sweater on you.” 

You smirked. “That reminds me—I got something for you, Tom.” Tom raised his brow as you grabbed the bag you stashed behind the tree. “Actually my parents got this for you. A little thank you gift apparently for having the tolerance to stay with me over the holidays—as if you had a choice.” You mumbled the last part. 

Tom curiously opened the bag and there revealed a matching sweater such as yours. This year’s sweater was green and had red tinsel all over it, probably the reason why you’re itchy. The real kicker is that—

“No way,” Tom gasped “It lights up?!” He asked laughing. It lights up. 

“Yeah, I don’t recommend turning that on. I did it earlier and I’m pretty sure I was about to combust—it’s a real fire hazard.” You replied, enjoying the genuine joy that Tom is showing on his face. 

“Oh but we have to turn the lights on when we take pictures,” He commented as he put on the sweater. “Thanks, Y/N.” He said softly, surprising you with a hug. 

It’s the first real physical contact that you two had ever since that night when you made out and you were pretty adamant that people were just making up this notion of having butterflies in their stomach—they weren’t. 

Tom’s roast dinner went surprisingly well. You kept teasing him that it’s Sam that you had to thank because you knew that Tom wouldn’t last in the kitchen without his brother’s instructions. Tom pouted the whole time. You eventually had to tell him 

“It was sweet.” You told him as you helped him clear out the plates. 

Tom was confused. 

“I don’t think I’ve known someone that went through hell and back just to make a great effort Christmas dinner —even if it means getting yelled at by your brother.” You said, smiling softly at him. “I mean it’s just us two, really. We don’t even have to do this.”

“Think that’s the reason why I wanted to do it,” Tom replied. Now you’re confused. “It’s because it’s the two of us—that’s why I wanted to do it.” 

As soon as you heard those words come out of Tom’s lips, you tried your best to stay calm. To say that you weren’t overwhelmed with emotions would be a huge lie. For someone who couldn’t hold their tongue, you were speechless. Tom’s giving you a run for your money and you weren’t exactly thrilled about it. 

After dinner, you and Tom opened your stocking presents. The presents were pretty tame at the start—you both got each other socks, which was hilarious but greatly appreciated. You love socks, especially comfy and cushiony ones. You came to learn that Tom does too, which prompted you two to wear the socks immediately. 

You got him candy canes, he got you chocolates. You also snuck in those small, in-flight alcohol bottles in there too—which he ended up loving. He got you those 10-pack skincare face masks, in which you let out a huge gasp, making him laugh. 

“Oh, we have to use this at some point!” You exclaimed happily “Like, we need to have a spa night—where we just watch movies, doing face masks, eating takeouts. Oh, that’s the dream!” You sighed happily. 

“We still have two weeks left till we go back to work, I'm sure we can find the time to do that,” Tom said with a permanent smile on his face, watching you with pure joy made him feel like he accomplished something big. 

You got him one of those Instax polaroid cameras—true, it was a bit too much for a stocking stuffer especially since the box definitely stood out against the stocking, but you figured he’ll like it. 

“Darling, this is too much but I’m thankful,” Tom commented as he took out the camera from the box. “I can’t wait to use this and keep memories using it—why don’t we start right now?! Let’s take a photo of us and our matching sweaters!”  

Tom took a lot of photos of you two, in the end. A couple of overexposed photos, one with the matching sweaters, one with your faces pressed against each other, one with your faces way too close to the camera, and one where he gave you a kiss on your cheek (he asked if that’s okay, of course, you said yes. it’s not like he hasn’t kissed you before— still no conversations about that, by the way). It was a good thing you got him at least 3 boxes of those 20 pack films in his stockings as well. 

The real kicker was Tom’s “small” stocking present for you. He got you this dainty, gold necklace with a crescent moon charm. You were pretty sure it was expensive because of the teal box it came with. 

“Stop,” You gasped “Tom, now this—this is too much.” You stressed out. “I can’t have this. Nope, you have to return this.”

Tom shrugged as if it was nothing. “You deserve it. Darling, you deserve something nice after this shitty year.” 

“Tom, I’m serious. This is too much.” 

“I’m serious too, Y/N. Keep it, please. I’d be offended if you don’t.”

After the roller coaster of emotions due to the stocking presents, you gave your parents a call to wish them a merry Christmas. They insisted to do a video call because they wanted to see Tom in the family sweater—which your mom wouldn’t stop gushing about. 

“I think your mum loves me,” Tom whispered closely in your ear. He didn't have to try too hard. With the laptop propped up on top of the coffee table, you two were sitting close together on the living room floor—knees touching, maximum close skin contact. CDC would never approve. 

“Yeah, I think it’s the accent,” You mumbled jokingly. 

Tom moved his head to take a good look at you, smiling. You could feel his eyes burning your skin. Why does he have to look at you like that? Why does he have to be this close?

The initial video call with your parents turned into a whole family reunion when you found out they set up a group call with your extended family. Imagine the dread and fear in your eyes when you heard your one aunt ask, 

“Finally, Y/N, is that your boyfriend?” 

Your eyes widened as you stuttered to say your defence, making Tom chuckle. You frowned at him and nudged him saying, “Don’t laugh, tell them no or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“No, unfortunately, I’m not,” Tom replied, laughing. “However, I do believe we make a cute couple, don’t we?” He teased, earning an earnest yes from your mom. 

You could only wish for the floor to swallow you whole. 

As the clocks rolled to twelve, it was officially Christmas. You and Tom figured you might as well start opening gifts again because Christmas Day is going to be a drag for the two of you. 

“Okay, start with this.” You said as you handed him a gift bag. You didn’t give him a lot of gifts for the actual Christmas Day because you went all out on the stuffers. 

“Pyjamas?” He asked with a grin. You made a signal for him to give you a minute. You ran to your room and changed into pyjamas. 

“Not just pyjamas, Tom, but matching pyjamas!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I saw it and figured we should do this for my day.”

“Sick!” Tom laughed. Tom got into his pair of pyjamas as well and of course, he didn’t forget to pull out his new polaroid camera to take a photo of you two. “Shit, I forgot to film our entire Christmas Eve.” He said as he saw the camera that was still sitting on the kitchen island from earlier that morning. 

You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ll win either way. Just that content from the breakfast crepes was enough to secure your place.” You said jokingly.

“All I’m hearing is that you’re going to spend Christmas with me in London next year.” Tom sang teasingly. 

“Yeah, maybe bringing you to our big Christmas holidays is a bad idea.” You wondered out loud. 

“I like your family,” Tom commented with a smile “and I think they will love having me there for the holidays.” 

“That would be a nightmare.” You mumbled to yourself. 

The rest of the night dragged on. You and Tom finished the rest of your gifts—you got him a watch, he got you a vinyl player. You two managed to watch the first Harry Potter film before you called it a night. 

You were about to head into your room when you heard Tom say, “Mistletoe.”

“Hm?” You hummed, confused. He placed a finger under your chin and gently tilted your head. There you saw a mistletoe hanging by one of the light fixtures. 

“How did that even—” 

“Can I kiss you?” Tom asked, cupping the sides of your face. 

“Hm?” Tom was definitely giving you a run for your money. How can a girl with a speech turn speechless?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked more softly. All you could do was nod. For if you even dare to open your mouth, all of this would cease to exist.  

His lips gently touched yours and then soon moulded into one. It was soft, sweet—familiar. His lips were something you never thought about—at least not a lot but you craved it. You crave his lips, his touch, him. You were riding a new high and you thanked every single god that you were sober to remember this—because this, this is something you want to cherish. 

“You told me you’re tired of being alone,” Tom whispered against your lips. “You don’t have to be anymore. Not when you have me, not ever.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11​ @tomshufflepuff​ @spider-babe​ @goodgirlgonetom​

[twst-campos13]

Hello!! May I request a shy!male staff reader pining for Crowley??? Can we have a happy ending to it as well? Please and thankyou ♥

Another sappy soft staff pining coming up!! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧! I made this as a headcanon instead, I hope you don’t mind!!

Warnings: none! Tags: male!reader, nurse!reader, fluff, pining, flower language

➸ Let's say you've been NRC's school nurse for the last 3 years. You know everyone who comes in and out of the infirmary especially the students who frequent their visit in that wing

➸ You're a lifesaver in a more literal sense. The students at this school are beyond rowdy—seeing students at different dormitories getting along is a rarer sight than seeing the infirmary completely empty. You get recognition from the staff and the frequent troublesome students for your hard work. From fights, magical accidents, and now the overblots—you're a hero without a cape, always making sure the students are in shape before you discharge them.

➸ Although the work is tiring, there are certain things that motivate you to continue your duty as a nurse. It isn't just the small praises your co-workers give you or the grateful gestures former patients do. Rather, it came from the bumbling headmaster of the school—Headmaster Dire Crowley.

➸ Also known as the guy you’re into. 

➸ Now when did you meet? Crowley had taken you in for an interview when you applied for a job at Night Raven College. You must admit he did have a tendency of talking over people and interrupting them, and you didn't get a chance to explain to him that "no sir I'm not applying as a permanent school nurse" when he immediately hired you as one. 

➸ Being a timid person, you find it hard to speak up about your thoughts even when you want to defend yourself. When your voice finds the courage, others' loud and abrasive tone intimidates you. You realized that a way to stay out of confrontations would be to just stay quiet. Crowley came off as pointless to argue with. 

➸ Your first impression of him was not the best and you intended to just leave him a note and find another job elsewhere when both of you stumbled upon a student choking. Your instincts were quicker than his and medical action was performed immediately. You were quite the hero and professional in Crowley's eyes during that day. That's how you were insisted to take the job. 

➸ You could've left anytime. Yes, you were shy but you aren't a pushover. So why did you stay? Well, somehow, someone has to take care of the residents of this school. 

➸ Admittedly, you are annoyed that the Headmaster worries more about financial and collateral damage than the rivalry of students that can result in scuffles. You tried to talk to him about hiring a school therapist or counselor so that it may lessen the injured students. You know what his response to that was? He laughed merrily and gave your shoulder a pat. "That is why we have a kind gentleman such as you to take care of them!" 

➸ His dense statement could give anyone a headache but oddly enough you didn't feel a migraine from that. Instead it...the praise—it motivated you to just keep doing what your work is. The primary reason for your duty is to take care of the prideful and rowdy students at this school. The secondary reason being that...hearing Crowley trust you and praise you felt...good. 

➸ And he kept praising you for your hard work. He told you how grateful he is to have a kind and soft-spoken nurse to be taking care of his students. Although you want to retort that he should be taking care of them as well, you kept those remarks to yourself and took in his compliments. 

➸ When you thought he picks and chooses his responsibilities, he had surprised you upon defending you when your professionalism is being insulted. You've learned to keep quiet and continue doing your duty. But having the Headmaster defend you from a sharp-tongued student? It was shocking...and quite admirable. You thought it was a one-time thing but it didn't just happen to you. Despite being rude and bumbling, the Headmaster does care for the wellbeing of the residents of the school. When certain boundaries are being overstepped he would jump right in, providing to be a voice to those lesser than him. 

➸ Perhaps that's why you had a crush on him? Because your types are seemingly dense, idiotic, seemingly prideful men who can be also caring at times you least expect them to be? Or you just fancy mysterious men behind masks and top hats, whose smile is so annoying you couldn't do anything but shake your head fondly?

➸ Did you get called out or-

➸ Well it's just a crush now isn't it? After all your relationship remains strictly professional. Oh, you were so sure your feelings wouldn't develop any further...until Crowley accidentally hit himself with a lamp trying to kill a cockroach in his office. Ah, that was the day you saw his handsome face—and the day your heartbeat earnestly for him.

➸ let's admit homeboy looks like muzan jackson

➸ He looked like a pale white boy which excellently brings out his brilliant honey gold eyes. He looks really, really handsome, and you wonder if the mask just made seeing his real face so exciting. You tripped over your own words when he called out your attention for the icepack you're pressing his bruise with started stinging.

➸ The image of his face is burned in your mind. Before that revelation, you were already shy when speaking to him. Now, oh Sevens, you had to practically stop rambling so the Headmaster may get a concise word from you. 

➸ He's always visiting the infirmary as well which only made your feelings for him bloom and bloom like the yellow and white azaleas he leaves when you are on breaks. Crowley adamantly denies the flowers being sent by him. Still, you appreciate the gesture and made sure to speak highly of your "mysterious" sender. You do not miss the way the feathers of his cape seemingly ruffle happily. You're not one for horticulture but you don't want to jump to conclusions as to what those flowers may mean. And whenever Crowley visits it feels like a visit from a friend you are reluctant to accept into your home but you do anyway, because admit it or not, his presence is very welcoming. 

➸ When you do ask him why his visits are routinely, Crowley's reasons are always about checking the wellbeing of students in the infirmary as well as yours. He's aware that the medical field is a serious job and as the Headmaster he takes it as a duty to lessen your stress by acting as a friendly colleague. Now, isn't he so gracious? 

➸ You don't complain about his visits anyway. In fact, you like them a lot. With Crowley being so talkative you find yourself often exchanging lighthearted conversations with him. Never small talk. Crowley learned that small talks with you are awkward and started conversation topics that will lead to deep chats. Did you appreciate his efforts? Oh, you did, and it surprised you how much he paid attention to your rambles that it made your heart skyrocket. Your mind wanders in circles if he's starting to like you back or if he's just being friendly and wants you to feel at home in NRC.

➸ But how could he return your feelings when you never even??? confessed to him??? 

➸ Are you ever going to confess to him, that is the question. No? Maybe? Probably? In due time? It's complicated. Even when your colleague Prof. Crewel suggested that he might be into men you still bite at your tongue and swallow the words. 

➸ It's just...it's hard. It's easier to speak up for yourself inside your mind than outside. You aren't a pushover but you don't like confrontations. It's easier to treat patients than to treat yourself. 

➸ Luckily, there are other people willing to play nurse to cure your lovesickness. Although the academic staff of NRC is dumbfounded at your special someone. Out of all the people you could've pine after, you had to fall for the densest and irresponsible man at this school.

➸ "But Headmaster Crowley isn't that irresponsible!" You would argue over tea with Mr. Trein and Prof. Crewel, who would then roll their eyes at you. My, you have fallen deep and you can't go back. 

➸ You could've just bottled your feelings and let it eat you inside-out, but it's chewing you so hard you can barely perform your tasks when Crowley is around. You had to give yourself peace of mind. Although rejection isn't that far you're still willing to take that risk.

➸ Since you couldn't confess to him verbally, you decided to buy an item from the school shop. It was your first idea which...okay, it's cute but it's not that bright. Luckily, Sam was available and suggested something else that can get your point across. Crowley had given you specific flowers so why not do the same to him?

➸ You dropped by his empty office and left one stem of red chrysanthemum at his desk. You made sure to also put a small wrapped biscuit beside it. You followed Mr. Sam's advice about leaving a piece of a treat along with the flower. Crows like shiny things and treats, right? You just hoped this would work. 

➸ Hope started to crumble inside you and the pieces being snacked on by your anxiety. Crowley is less frequent with his visits at the infirmary and when both of you would talk there is this thick awkward wall of tension. You were only awaiting the day when the yellow and white azaleas will be accompanied by a single yellow and striped carnation. The day did come when a flower was left on your desk—but it was not a striped carnation.

➸ It was a bundle of beautiful ambrosia flowers freshly bloomed. 

➸ You could've thought Crowley wanted to poison you with those flowers until you remembered from reading a book about the language of flowers that it meant something more. It brought you to tears, so much so that the few patients in the infirmary asked if you were okay. 

➸ Ambrosia. Love reciprocated. 

➸ When Headmaster Crowley announced to the staff that he will be courting you to be his boyfriend, a wave of relief washed over the entire college. Turns out, both of you were tiptoeing around each other, failing to find the proper words to admit that you like each other. Mr. Trein can rest peacefully without Crowley crying to him about how he can ever confess to such a handsome man such as you. It made you blush deeply, realizing that you have been doing the same thing with Prof. Crewel and Mr. Sam. 

➸ The Headmaster had certainly become more prideful now that you are together. But it was sweet in a way. You were glad that you scrapped the letter idea for you may have misused a few words. 

➸ Although you are still shy in participating in PDA, both of you know that love doesn't have to be expressed verbally. Crowley does it excellently on his own. He always tells anyone he comes across that you are his beautiful, handsome, lovely little nurse. You had to shut him up by pinching his ear which you will treat later with a caring kiss.

[goldenkamuyhunting]

Ramblings and crazy theory time about GK chap 276 “Fried shrimp”

New chapter before the break in which we get to meet…

…yeah, Hanazawa’s sacrificial sheep, Yuusaku. The poor guy seems to believe he shares his father’s beliefs on how he (Yuusaku, sadly not Hanazawa) has to die for the well being of the country… as if he were the antichrist or something like that.

So we’ve left Sugimoto showing, in his hurry to eat the fried shrimp, that he has not the slightest idea how to use western cutlery, realizing he has messed up and thinking, in panic, he’ll have to signal to Kikuta already about his failure.

I mean, Sugimoto, if you’ve no idea what to do just let Kaeko start eating first and then copy what she does.

Anyway, luckily for him, Kaeko thinks she’s making a joke and Sugimoto takes advantage of it, saying he did it to lighten the tension.

She then observes he’s still wearing his cap, asking him if that too is due to him being tense. Sugimoto removes it, then claims at the academy they eat in Japanese style so he’s not used to this.

Kaeko notices there’s a difference between him and the photo but she’s pleased by his look anyway and continues not to suspect anything.

Anyway Kaeko gives him tips on how to eat the food, which, as usual, pleases Sugimoto greatly. He asks her if she comes there often and it turns out she does, as well as visiting other expensive places. Sugimoto thinks at how he, instead, after his father died, was in such a poor situation he resorted to steal the food that was given to cats.

We get a one page image with Sugimoto, in his dark uniform seated in this white and luxurious place, as if he were a dark spot clearly out of place in all that white luxury, his gaze downcast as he looks at the food in front of himself and is forced to take conscience of the huge divide between his world and Kaeko’s.

Later he’s with Kikuta again and claims since he kept silent, he should have felt like a boring guy, which should have displeased Kaeko. Kikuta is predictably happy and tells him since marriage interviews involve more than one meeting he’ll be counting on Sugimoto again.

Sadly for him, Sugimoto is seriously mistaken in regard to Kaeko’s reaction to his behaviour.

In fact Kaeko is delighted with ‘Yuusaku’, thinking he was just a quiet man, who kept on nodding at whatever she said without disagreeing with her and who had an awesome look.

In a way this is interesting because it’s clear Sugimoto thinks to impress a girl he should be vivacious and talkative, strong and assuring, when this isn’t necessarily what girls search in men.

Toraji never beat Sugimoto and was even prone to cry and yet Umeko loved him because he would do everything for her.

Tanigaki is quiet and grumpy as a bear yet Inkarmat ended up liking him because he was actually gentle with her.

Shinpei is a coward, yet Chiyoko wants him because, again, he is willing to leave his life for her.

Girls aren’t all made with the same mould, Sugi, they are different one from the other. Not everyone likes the loud type and it’s kind of relevant how, ultimately, the girl in GK ultimately chose men who just cared for them.

Kaeko assumed Yuusaku did her the kindness to let her speak without him disagreeing, that he tried to make her relax with a joke, in short that he was kind with her, though clearly Sugimoto’s look also played a part in this.

Anyway Kaeko’s maid warns her about how she cares too much for the look of men, which is why she lost many chances to get married so yes, Sugimoto’s good looks played a huge part in why Kaeko liked him.

Back to Sugimoto he complains he can’t believe how someone would marry someone else only after meeting them a few times. Kikuta explains him that’s how it works among the upper classes and Sugimoto ends up on talking with him about Toraji and Umeko… and this is relevant because instead he kept for a really long time the matter for himself when with Asirpa and Shiraishi and was reluctant to talk about it.

Sugimoto concludes his tale pointing out how Toraji told him he was still Umeko’s number one yet she married Toraji so he wonders if this sort of things happen as well.

Kikuta gets angry, asking him if he’s wondering if Umeko is happy after marrying Toraji and what does he understand about women.

Kikuta views his words as arrogance, as Sugimoto thinking he’ll always stay number one in her heart, she always pining after him and never being happy with Toraji… and yes, this is what in a way Sugimoto hopes, because he’s unhappy without her and thinks it’s not fair how Toraji took her from him and a side of him probably would like to hope she’ll jump Toraji for him in the future.

Kikuta points out how this is rude toward Umeko and Toraji, how women are capable to move on from a failed love story and start another, without remaining dependant on the man they had lost and how Sugimoto should apologize to them both.

Sugimoto doesn’t get why Kikuta got so mad and wonders if he’s just being pathetic because he can’t let go of things. Kikuta’s mood changes radically and he assures him it’s absolutely normal for men to be pitiful creatures who can’t let go of the woman they love.

I wonder if part of Kikuta’s reaction is due to him living an experience similar to Sugimoto. Did he too pined for a woman who ultimately chose another? Or was he the replacement for such a man?

Anyway Kikuta tells him that, as a man, he should understand Toraji and leave the whole thing behind himself, firmly and completely. So hum, yes, I tend to think Kikuta lived through something similar as Sugimoto.

Anyway Kikuta’s support brightens Sugimoto up, who smiles and agrees to do so.

I think Sugimoto is starting to see Kikuta as some sort of father figure, who feeds him and scolds him and accept him. He’s a replacement family in a way.

I wonder if it’s due to his discussion with Kikuta that Sugimoto became reserved on the topic, for fear to look pathetic… or it’s just due to Toraji’s death. He feels guilty because deep inside himself he had hoped for Toraji to get out of the picture and when it happened in such way, it broke him.

Anyway Kaeko’s maid is giving her tips on how to seduce ‘Yuusaku’, get him into the right mood and then wrap her legs around him. Kaeko is determined to get ‘Yuusaku’ and her maid is very encouraging about this.

Kaeko comments that since men who chose brides from her school do so for her pedigree and looks, there’s no problems if she does the same. ‘Yuusaku’ is good looking and of a high social ranking so he’s perfect for her.

As she thinks so she realizes her cousin might chide her for focusing too much on appearance but he also picked up a country girl with curly unruly hair merely due to her look and now he seems to be really happy… and so now we know what had happened to Igogusa/Harumi Chiyo.

She really left her hometown because she married the son of a manager from Mitsubishi, which is to say Kaeko’s cousin. Well, in a way it’s a relief. I’m glad to know she’s alive and I hope she’s also happy.

In short Tsurumi was honest the first time, when he said how a man from Mitsubishi wanted her as a wife for his son, and Tsurumi only tricked Tsukishima with the story Tsukishima was told in Mudken, in which he made Tsukishima first believe she was killed by his father, then that Tsurumi merely made things look like that, so he could make Tsukishima feel indebted to him even more.

Also this means Tsukishima really killed his father over nothing, as the man might have many faults but didn’t cause Chiyo to die.

Kikuta and Sugimoto are out eating in a poor restaurant, Sugimoto thinking at the fried shrimps and feeling angry and jealous at how upper class people can eat them. Kikuta reminds him that’s how it works in Tokyo.

Sugimoto then wonders if Yuusaku wants to be a flag bearer. Kikuta says his job is only to protect Yuusaku’s virginity and have the lady rejected as gently as possible. Sugimoto insists Yuusaku might want to eat fried shrimp instead than joining the army. I mean Sugi, in the past chapter you considered joining the army so as to get food… I get your situation is desperate because you were literally starving but food serves little when you’re sent out to fight and die in a war… and you realize this only when you think Yuusaku, instead than dying in a war, might want to eat fried shrimp?

Kikuta insists Sugimoto shouldn’t worry about Yuusaku… but those are wasted words.

Sugimoto dresses up  in Kikuta’s uniform and goes to meet Yuusaku, telling him he’d heard his father wants him to become the regimental flag bearer. Yuusaku is confused but points out this will be only if he gets chosen for the position…

...which makes him pretty naïve because of course his father can hugely influence the choice if he’s already set on having him in that role.

Have I mentioned in this ramblings how Hanazawa senior is a jerk? No, I think I haven’t yet so here it is, Hanazawa senior is a jerk.

Sugimoto asks him why his father would want such a role for him, wondering if it’s maybe Hanazawa thinks there won’t be a war.

Yuusaku ‘reassures’ him it’s quite the opposite, his father believes there will be a war soon and what a better chance than to make use of his son for his honour by putting him in the riskiest position with the highest death rate? Because what’s a son if not cannon fodder meant to be used for his father’s honour?

Hanazawa is a disgusting person.

Sugimoto asks Yuusaku if he wants to be a flag bearer and Yuusaku… circles around the subject, saying if he’s chosen he’ll feel pride. Yeah, because who doesn’t want to die as a sacrificial lamb for his father’s social standing?

Sugimoto asks him if he’s merely trying to met his father’s expectations.

Yuusaku sweats and denies it, asking him what does he wants.

Sugimoto says he just wants to know how he feels.

Yuusaku explains Hanazawa (at this point, as Alessandro Manzoni would have said “I have not the hear to call that guy ‘his father’”) told him about how his life can be used for the good of Japan so Yuusaku believes using his life for the good of Japan is the right thing to do.

Dear God, this man really viewed his sons as pawns to use and dispose when they weren’t useful anymore. Is he ever human? Or there’s only duty and honour running in his veins?

Sugimoto, who has no idea Yuusaku is the kind who’s stubborn as hell and would have refused anyway, thinks Yuusaku’s problem is merely he thinks he only have one path open, but wouldn’t think so if he were to know there’s another path, one they’re hiding from him.

No Sugimoto, the problem is actually Hanazawa completely brainwashed his son, to turn him into a noble and righteous icon without even knowing well why except that daddy thinks that’s the best way for him to live his life.

Hanazawa is a jerk.

On a sidenote I hate this situation even more exactly because Yuusaku is basically brainwashed. Each time he has to explains his position he uses as argument what his father told him, yes, he says he came to believe it too, but it doesn’t seem like it’s something he came up on his own, or something he gave deep thought about, but something that was merely put into his mind by all of Hanazawa’s talk.

Maybe it’s just me but Yuusaku always feel more like not thinking for himself but merely reporting what his father told him to think. Whatever, let’s go on.

Meanwhile Yuusaku proves he can be observant, as he notices Sugimoto is wearing Kikuta’s cap due to it being stitched in a little area due to a hole made when Kikuta has been nearly killed by an officer candidate during shooting training. Sugimoto tries to cover up the thing by claiming he got the hat from Kikuta, but this is even more suspicious as that cap belonged to Kikuta’s little brother who died of illness during the war with China.

This is probably why Kikuta is adopting young men… but at the same time, although he should know Yuusaku since Yuusaku knows him so well, he has little to no sympathy for his fate and will show complete disinterest for Koito as well. I do wonder if Kikuta has issues with people from the upper classes.

He trains officer candidates but this might have exposed him even more to the differences between classes and made him think low of them. We’ll see.

On another side I wonder if Yuusaku will do something out of this information there’s someone wearing Kikuta’s cap and who’s asking him if he’s okay with being the flag bearer.

This little exchange proved Yuusaku can be observant and connect the dots so now if only he were to think a little more he could prove himself to be more than just his father’s puppet.

Anyway as Sugimoto walks for the city, holding his cap in his hands he gets careless and slams against someone… this someone turns out to be the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse…

...pardon, I mean Tsukishima, who’s with Usami, Ogata and Tsurumi (please notice how the light shines on them as if they were some sort of saviours or angels from above), the four of them all enjoying a trip to Tokyo prior to the start of the apocalypse… Tsurumi’s plan, I mean… because really, it would feel to absurd to have those 4 in Tokyo just for a touristic trip, so they had to be there to pursue Tsurumi’s plan.

Okay, I know, maybe the apocalypse was safer than what Tsurumi’s plan will turn out.

Anyway, some random observations on them.

From the 27 on Ogata and Usami’s shoulders we can see they’re already in the 7th division.

From the stripe on Ogata’s sleeve we can see he’s a second class superior private, meaning he has just enrolled in the army since, second class privates should have been automatically promoted to first class after 6 months (at least from the info I have who’re dated past GK so it might be things were different that early on). It’s 1901 so he should be 19. It means he enrolled in the army earlier as although one could join the army from when he was 17, the norm was they would be examined for fitness at 20 and, if judged fit then they would join the army for a 2 years period of training.

Considering Noda said Ogata studied Russian with Tsukishima and Tsukishima went in Russia with Tsurumi much earlier on, it seems that Tsurumi recruited Ogata prior to him being able to enrol in the army.

Usami should be a year older, so he’s still pretty young. Did they join together or Usami also joined much earlier than planned? We’ll see.

Anyway the 4 of them are having a trip to Tokyo… and I can’t help but think if Tsurumi went in Tokyo with 3 of his soldiers whom he has twisted with ‘love’, things are likely going to turn troublesome.

LOL, now let’s only hope Sugimoto won’t introduce himself as Yuusaku… though if he were it could be that Tsurumi would spot the lie immediately and that’s why Ogata knows passing for an officer is a dumb plan.

On another side... this might be the moment in which Yuusaku and Ogata first met. I’m honestly scared.

Oh well, we’ll see.

Overall this chapter provided us some info and was nice but not that emotionally compelling, it merely seemed to plan to set up things for the next developments.

Anyway next week there’s a break so we’re in for a long wait.

[ziaxkawaii]

Delinquent affection (Delinquent!Bakugou X Reader)

Pairing: Delinquent!Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

Length: 4,400 words.

Warnings: Swearing and possibly uncomfortable themes.

Summary: Your parents made it clear for you to stay out of trouble at school. You tried your best, but as a teenager, there's always trouble you can easily get caught in whether you liked it or not.

~It's said, that High school years will be the best years of your life...

~Perhaps for some, but to you right now it feels like endless suffering in some twisted mafia.

~You could precisely recall your father's words before he dropped you off to school on your first day. Before you could open the car door, he spoke:

~"Remember what we talked about. Don't get involved in any shady business and try to focus on school. I don't want my daughter to be a member of some street gang." You assured him that you had no interest of doing such things as you stepped out of the vehicle.

~"AND IF YOU'LL BE TALKING TO ANY BOYS!! YOU BETTER NOT-" You slammed the car door shut and went on your merry way.

~At the time you thought he was being overprotective and you still do to some degree, but now you can admit that you could have been at least a bit more careful or observant when it came to talking to certain people.

~Two months into your first year, you met most of the other first years and also became very good friends with some of them. You studied hard but you too had time for your friends. You would sometimes goof off but still kept it on the legal side (hopefully). You felt lucky as if nothing could ruin your happiness.

~That's what you thought before you encountered the person responsible for your current anxiety.

~Keiji Hatcher and his underlings....

~You heard from one of your friends that he was a second-year student who was no good news and that you should stay away from him. Or that was the rumor among the upperclassmen.

~You took their advice, but you ran into Keiji by the vending machine no one usually uses behind the school.

~At first he seemed just like any high schoolboy. But that image quickly turned into something else, when you kept on bumping into him. He teased you a lot and at one point it made you feel a bit uncomfortable, but you didn't exactly push him away.

~Day after day, his approaches got more touchy and pushy. You didn't return them as his only intention was to have you as his little pet, and you would never stoop that low. By now, you realized you didn't want to have anything to do with him, and you even told him to stop meeting you and that you've had enough.

~Keiji did not listen and instead brought his minions with him every time he talked to you. "Sweetheart, I thought it would have been nice to have some audience."

~No one knew about what Keiji was doing, and there really was no point in telling anyone, none of the teachers would believe you. Keiji was the son of one of the most respected teachers in the school, and he was a damn good actor when it came to covering up something, spreading lies, or explaining situations.

~You couldn't talk to your friends because they would probably think you were gross for hanging around with an older guy who treats his girlfriends as trash.

~And talking to your parents was out of the questions for obvious reasons. Leaving you nowhere to hide or seek comfort.

~That's how you've been living. Always on edge and checking every corridor before you walk out behind the corner, trying your best to stay out of his sight. Sometimes even that wasn't enough.

~This time he went too far...

~You were cowering next to the same vending machine you and Keiji met, crying and hiding away from the other students who still haven't left the school building, even when it was well past 5.30 PM on Friday. You hugged your topless torso tighter in hopes of either hiding yourself more or to just disappear from all existence.

~The only comfort you had at this moment was the lack of people and that Keiji was "generous" enough to only take your coat and shirt, leaving you in your bra while the bottom half of your uniform was still on. Thankfully.

~You attempted to dry your tears with one of your hands while the other arm covered your chest. You felt so humiliated, frightened, and exposed.

~"Why would he go this far?" You questioned while the tears kept on coming. You gave up on trying to dry your tears and started to rock yourself back and forth in hopes of helping yourself to calm down.

~"Why would someone do this?" You cried. You had no idea how to get back home. Your house was many miles away from the school, so you usually traveled by train or car. Your parents were on some business trip and they couldn't get you and you didn't feel confident to go on the train without a shirt. All of your friends already left school.

~With this realization, you felt trapped and out of options of what to do.

~"What am I going to do?..."

~"Oi! Why the fuck are you here?" You heard someone shout. You tensed up and hugged yourself even tighter out of fear. Footsteps probably belonging to the voice came closer until they stopped before you. You didn't dare to say anything nor to look up at the stranger.

~"Hey! I asked you a god damn question!" He shouted again and you started trembling profusely. What if he wanted to touch you too?!

~The blond male observed your hunched over being. He didn't notice it before, but now he could see that the girl in front of him didn't have any shirt and was clearly terrified of his presence. And if he looked close enough, he could even see a few hickeys on your neck.

~Bakugou stood up straighter and with a bit softer voice and expression, he spoke again. "Who did this to you?"

~You cautiously lifted up your head to look at the person speaking. Piercing red eyes looked into your own behind spiky but fluffy looking hair. The person had his hands in his pockets and a scowl on their face, but his eyes gave away that he was somewhat interested in what happened to you.

~You sniffled. "I-I can't tell you, or h- he might do something to get me b-back..." You whimpered as you lowered your gaze again.

~"So the bastard's him, huh." The male muttered mostly to himself but you heard him clearly.

~"Y-Y-You know him!?" You looked up to him again shocked.

~"I know that the guy is an asshole, but this is a new record for him." He said. "Don't get the wrong idea, I don't associate with that fucker even the slightest. We delinquents do our own thing."

~'Delinquents?...' You repeated in your head as you looked him over again.

~The blond male wore the school uniform, but he had styled it differently. His jacket was unbuttoned and instead of the usual white t-shirt underneath the jacket, he wore an orange t-shirt with a skull and explosions on it, without a tie. His ear was pierced and not only did he have a book bag, but he also had a second 'bag' strapped to his back that was more of a holder or a shield for a baseball bat or other sports equipment.

~Seemingly, he uses it to hold his weapon that the delinquents tend to carry with them at all times, judging by the shinai handle that was poking out of the top of the bag for easy access.

~He definitely is one of the school delinquents you've heard about, you couldn't deny. You thought you'd never meet them in person. Now the question is, what does he want with you? Why was he even talking to you in the first place?

~"W-Why are you here?..." You asked, not realizing that your tears had stopped flowing.

~"That's none of your business. Aren't supposed to be at home already? Calling your parents to come and get you?" To you, he sounded rude and impatient, but in reality, Bakugou was attempting to sound softer.

~He may be a delinquent, but he wasn't completely heartless.

~"I don't have anyone to call. I-I guess you could say that I'm trying to figure out how I'm gonna get home unnoticed." You admitted. You're already topless and embarrassed in front of a male stranger, mind as well throw a little more firewood to a house fire, right? It won't change anything.

~The blond male stood there silently while you were still crouched down. Now you realized that you oddly felt a bit better for some reason. You weren't shaking as much as before and your crying had stopped.

~Was it because you finally talked to someone about your problem and the stranger didn't make fun of your current state? You heard that the delinquents don't really care much about anything.

~Suddenly you heard the male shift a bit on his feet and it sounded as though he was shrugging something off, then you felt something being carelessly draped over your head and back. You jumped a bit from the surprise and looked up at the boy, now standing there without a jacket.

~He... He's letting you borrow his jacket?

~"Cover yourself up and go home." He growled out and began to use the vending machine next to you. You couldn't say anything. You just looked up at him in disbelief and he noticed your staring.

~"Are you deaf or something!? You don't need to stare like a creep." He shouted and it snapped you out of your daze. You quickly put the jacket on properly and buttoned all the buttons all the way. You picked up your book bag and you were ready to run off in the direction of the train station, but you stopped yourself before you could.

~The blond shifted his head to the side, questioning why you were still here. You had so much to say to him and questions to ask, but the only thing you could muster out was:

~"Thanks..." Before you ran off.

~~~

~The weekend went by in a flash. You did your best to study on an upcoming test, but here and there your mind shifted to the grumpy delinquent boy that lend his jacket for you to cover up. When those thoughts filled your mind, you often found yourself staring at the jacket that sat on your dresser.

~Thinking how generous it was of him to help you when you didn't even know each other. You didn't even know his name nor what year student he was.

~As Monday rolled around, you walked to school with the jacket in your book back for you to give back. If you can find him that is...

~Your day went on as usual. Attending classes, talking with friends on breaks, and then came lunchtime. For many, it was the best moment of the day, but you never looked forward to it no matter how hungry you were.

~Just as you got out of the classroom, an arm snaked around your waist pulling you along with them to the opposite direction of the cafeteria while whispering right next to your ear.

~"Did you have a nice weekend sweetheart?" Keiji teased with his sickly sweet tone. You shuddered in his hold and you tried to lean away from his face but his grip on your waist wasn't easing up.

~"I hate you..." You spit out and he only chuckled as he led you behind the school.

~"Ah ah ah~. Remember to watch that tongue, doll." He pulled you behind a corner and slammed you against the wall. His other friends emerged from behind the dumpster and were now surrounding you as you looked at Keiji's almost glowing eyes.

~"Now... where were we...?"

~That's how it went every time.

~After all of them left, you were left alone to fix up your wrinkled uniform and messy hair. While doing so, you looked at the time on your phone and sighed out of relief. Lunchtime wasn't over yet and won't be in a long time. Keiji stopped earlier than usual.

~"I guess he just wanted to only mess with me today..." You thought out loud as you fixed the tie around your neck and straightening the shirt collar to hide the new and old hickeys from other students.

~"OI!!" A familiar gruff voice called from behind you. You turned around and your eyes met fierce ruby eyes of a delinquent. Your momentary panic vanished as you realized that he was the guy who helped you last Friday.

~He wasn't wearing his uniform jacket which made you remember that you had it with you right now. You immediately started fumbling and digging through your book back for the item the blond male was probably waiting for. You pulled the gray jacket out, ready to give it back but he spoke and you jumped.

~"Why are you letting him do shit like this to you?" He asked and you looked at the ground ashamed and unsure while you unconsciously gripped the jacket tighter in your grasp. Should you tell him? Or maybe the better question was, Why should you tell him?

~He is a delinquent. They don't bother with the other students unless they benefit from it. What does he gain from helping you or asking you these questions? Wait... Why are you just now realizing that he probably witnessed or at least heard the whole thing happen a few minutes ago?

~"....."

~He was waiting for your response, but when you couldn't decide what you should say he spoke for you.

~"If you're not going to talk then that already by itself tells a lot." The blond stepped closer and you stayed put, clutching the jacket to your chest now.

~"If I had to guess... I bet he has something of yours that you can not give up for whatever reason or he knows an embarrassing secret about you, with that he uses you as he pleases because he knows you can't say no. If you did, he would break the 'pledge' or spill the secret." He was now standing directly in front of you while a bead of sweat began to form on your forehead.

~You looked away from him and down at the ground in shame and sadness. He saw right through you.

~"H- He has pictures of me..." You squeaked while still looking at the ground. You couldn't possibly look him in the face right now. "The day I finally decided that I've had enough, he practically ripped off some of my clothing with his gang and took embarrassing pictures of me. I saw them once and they look like straight out of a lewd magazine." Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you recalled the event.

~When you started high school, you didn't think it would turn out the way it did, and you didn't know exactly who to blame. Keiji or yourself.

~"If I don't do as he says. He will put those pictures into use and once he does, I'm completely done for." You finished. a Few tears now rolled down your cheek as you kept on thinking about the worst possible scenario that could happen if Keiji did what he said he would.

~It could/would ruin your reputation in school and it would only worsen if your parents heard about it. More and more scenarios went through your head and you finally snapped out of it as a napkin was thrown in your face. You flinched from the sudden attack and swiftly snatched the napkin before it fell to the dirty ground.

~You looked up and saw that the red-eyed blond was the one responsible for the gesture as he looked to the side. He clearly didn't know how to comfort someone sad.

~"Stop crying like a loser." He commanded and the look of slight embarrassment on his face looked almost cute to you. You smiled and wiped your tears into the napkin. "Crying doesn't suit you." You would've blushed at the comment, but your face was already red with tears so it wouldn't have made a difference. When you were done you realized you were still clutching his jacket.

~"Oh right, I almost forgot." You scrambled for the garment. "Thank you again for lending me your jacket, you practically saved me last Friday. Don't worry about it being dirty, I washed and ironed it." You outstretched the jacket and he took it from you by grabbing it from the collar and inspecting it for a moment before swinging it over his shoulder.

~With that out of the way, you repositioned your book bag on your shoulder and bowed to him as a last thank you. You turned around and walked around the corner to the nearest bench to eat your home packed lunch.

~Little did you know that as you ate, someone familiar was watching over you from a distance like a guard dog.

~~~

~Something felt odd...

~Forget that, something was off and it put you on the edge.

~It has been a whole week since you last saw Keiji or his minions. He hasn't dragged you to the boys' bathroom, the janitor's closet, or behind the school to have his version of 'fun'. You haven't even seen the guy in the halls nor anywhere in the school for that matter.

~You didn't mind that he wasn't around, quite the opposite, you were cheerful that he isn't here to breathe down your neck. But the whole issue was the reason why he wasn't here. The longest he has left you alone was two days, now it has been a whole week and you were now more nervous than ever.

~Was he planning something? Did he somehow find out that you talked to someone about your problem? But the last time you talked to the delinquent was more than two weeks ago! How could've he found out? Is he now going to get you back by sharing the photos!?

~The familiar feeling of anxiety crept upon you as you couldn't concentrate on the lesson that was currently being taught. The class was dismissed later than you would have liked and your other classmates headed out to grab lunch.

~You were wary as you stepped out of the classroom, looking both ways of the hall before leaving the classroom towards the cafeteria to eat with your friends. As you walked for a minute, there wasn't the usual pull on your wrist or waist you were used to on Mondays during lunch.

~It made you really wonder what was going on with Keiji, as you feared for your reputation, expecting the worst.

~"Didn't you hear? Hatcher is temporarily suspended." You heard a second-year female student speak from another table behind you. The name Hatcher caught your attention, so you pretended to eat your bento as you listened to the conversation.

~"No I didn't, I thought he was sick." a Boy spoke this time.

~"No he isn't. From what I heard, he and his friends were suspended for harassing a first-year student. Apparently it was so bad that Hatcher's friends got a two-week suspension but Hatcher himself got a two-month suspension! Can you believe that!" The girl laughed and the other students chuckled along.

~"Serves him right. He has been getting away with his disgusting actions for long enough. It's almost hard to believe that someone actually managed to rat him out. Guess Keiji felt overly confident." Another girl spits out.

~Your eyes were wide as saucers, as you comprehended the information you just heard. 'He's suspended?' You thought. You couldn't believe it, it was too good to be true.

~"Do you know who exposed him?" The boy asked and you focused your attention again.

~"Not a clue. Apparently someone gave the teachers a package with a note and a USB drive. On it was evidence of the assault and since Hatcher's and his friend's faces were clearly in the video, they were found guilty." The girl explained with a laugh.

~"How do you know this sort of stuff!!?" Someone in their table exclaimed and the girl just chuckled mischievously.

~"I have my ways~." She sang. The second-years kept on bickering while you sat there stunned.

~Someone gave the teachers the evidence in a package? Meaning even the teachers don't know who the 'rumor-monger' was. Who would go out of their way to keep their identity a secret? Who even knew about the assault anyways?

~Then it hit you like a brick and you hurriedly packed your stuff with little explanation to your friends as to why you were leaving. You blindly ran through the school halls, courtyard, and on the rooftop of the school looking for the boy. With no success.

~Then you remembered that he was a delinquent and that they don't hang around in the places where the other students would. You hit yourself on the forehead with a giant L and bolted down the stairs, beginning to run to the back of the school where you always saw him.

~Soon you were out of breath and you leaned against the vending machine that no one usually used. You cursed your low stamina and prepared to run off again when a figure emerged out of nowhere.

~"Oi! What are you doing here?"

~'Of course it's always him who finds me.' You humored in your mind as you straitened up and turned to the blond boy. He had his usual annoyed look on his face with his hair pointing in every which direction and his hands were buried in his pockets.

~His tone of voice sounded pretty normal, but you swore you could identify a tone that told you he was half expecting you to show up sooner or later. You walked over to him and he eyed you wearily with his ruby eyes.

~"It was you... I know It was you!" You told him and he stayed put. "You exposed Keiji of his wrongdoings and got him suspended." You exclaimed in shock that he actually managed to do it but also in gratefulness that he went out of his way to do so. The blond smirked for the first time in front of you as he huffed.

~"He was a disgusting extra who thought he had everyone wrapped around his fingers. Not only did that bastard harass girls, but he also often got me and my friends in trouble. So when I heard about what he was doing to you, I recorded evidence of him right in the act for a couple of days and gave it to the teachers to handle the rest. Simple and easy." He explained as he shifted his weight on one foot and lifted his hand in the air to further showcase how simple his stunt was.

~"So you're telling me you did it because you wanted him off your back and not mine?" You inquired half-joking and half-serious, not even caring about the fact that he had been recording you. He looked to the side blushing a faint pink.

~"He was a complete asshole, I would have done it even if he didn't bother us, so I could watch him suffer for his actions. You happened to be just the perfect reason to use as an example." You blushed at his words and smiled slightly. Then you realized something and your smile fell.

~"But he still probably has the photos! H- He still could get his revenge and-"

~"I already took care of it." He stopped your panicking by placing a hand on your head, making you stand still. "Me and my pals confronted him and made him spill what devices he stored the photos in he took of his victims. We stole his phone and also his friends' phones and broke them. He was too confident that no one would find out that he didn't save them anywhere else. a Moron move if you ask me." He further explained and you calmed down under his surprisingly gentle touch.

~"So... I'm finally free?" You questioned to confirm just in case.

~"That's right, whatever he tries, you don't need to do shit." He smirked and lifted his hand off and buried it back into his pocket. Your smile returned and you couldn't hold the laughter in as you giggled from happiness.

~Finally it's over. Now you don't need to do gross things with him and you can now wake up without worry every day.

~"I owe you so much!" You said while laughing and he 'tch'ed.

~"What can someone like you offer to a delinquent who can get anything from other students just by intimidating them?" He challenged. You dug into your bag and pulled out an unopened bento box.

~"For starters, I can offer you this extra bento I made." You offered it to him and he lifted his brows as he took it. "I was supposed to give it to my friend but she wasn't at school today, so you can have it, plus I doubt you have your own lunch." You dug out your own and walked to the old-ish bench next to the vending machine and sat on it, he eyed the green container once more before following your lead and sitting on the opposite end of the bench to begin eating.

~You were right. He, in fact, didn't have lunch to eat today.

~You sat there in a newfound peace as the birds in a nearby tree happily chirped. You smiled. For the first time in a while, you felt at ease and able to breathe. Feel as free as the bird in that tree or in the sky.

~It was funny. You were eating lunch next to a delinquent who has a reputation as an intimidating and violent person, but you felt safe. In reality, the delinquents are people too and they only attack if someone approached them first.

~'He is interesting for sure.' You thought as you scooped more rice in your mouth.

~"What's your name?" He suddenly spoke and you looked at him. Oh right, you don't even know each other's names.

~"My name is (L/N) (Y/N), and you are?"

~"Bakugou Katsuki."

[veniteme]

Hunting for Gems

season preview

ash island x reader

prev | next

When Ash Island is forced to participate as a producer for the latest season of Show Me the Money, he knows it won't be easy. But when his partner is you, a rising producer from H1GHR, maybe it won't be as bad as he thought.

2k words

As you stand before the door to the waiting room, heart thudding loudly in your chest, you think back to when the KIFF boys were in your studio eating cake a week ago.

“What am I supposed to do?” you slap Rohan’s arm vigorously as you panic. “How am I supposed to act around him?” The rest of the boys had already left, allowing you to freak out in relative privacy.

You’ve been an avid fan of Ash Island since his days on High School Rapper 2. Once he started releasing music, your infatuation with him only increased. When Jay informed you that you’d be working with him for the entire season of Show Me the Money, your brain immediately worked itself into a frenzy. On one hand, you were excited to meet someone whose music you loved. On the other, how were you expected to function properly next to him with the entire world watching through a camera?

“Okay, first thing you need to do,” Rohan starts, “is stop hitting me! You may be weak, but if you hit me enough it starts to sting okay? And second, just be normal? Act how you usually do.” He makes it sound so easy, as if you won’t die on the spot the moment the two of you make eye contact.

“That is under the assumption that I am able to think with him sitting next to me. And alright, let’s say I am actually capable of saying more than two words in his presence, what if he doesn’t like me? What if he thinks I’m weird or annoying?” You’ll be crushed if this person that you’ve admired for so long decides he doesnt like you.

“Then he’d be a good judge of character?” You hit Rohan even harder. “Ow! Relax, I was just kidding. Look, I’ve known the guy for a couple years now, and he has no right to call someone else weird. Plus, he’s one of the chillest guys I know. You’ll be fine. From what I’ve seen recently, the only time you need to be worried is when the cameras are on.”

“What do you mean?”

-----

While you stood outside the door, Ash is inside, staring nervously at the production crew setting up the cameras. Unlike you, he is not nervous about the two of you meeting. He’s worked with countless artists, featured on so many songs, he is used to interacting with people he didn’t know. What actually scares him is having to be a functioning human being in front of all these cameras.

He’s never done a such a big production like this, never seen so many cameras all pointed at him, capturing his every move. Thinking about all the eyes that will be watching him through that lens gives him anxiety. Normally, he’d be drinking right now to take off a bit of the edge. However, he doesn't think that would help with this cold bad boy image he is already starting to have. On top of being a jerk, the public will then think he was an alcoholic.

Just when he thinks he'll burst from nerves, you decide to walk through the door, a welcome distraction from all the thoughts running through his head.

-----

The first thing you see as you walk in is the production crew. All you are filming today are some short interviews to introduce the producer teams. They’ll be airing it as a teaser for the new season. You bow your head in greeting to the staff as you head to your seat. And that’s when you see him.

The two of you make eye contact, both looking up at the same time. And then you freeze; your brain short-circuits and for a second, all you can do is stare. Ash Island, the guy whose songs take up a good chunk of your playlist, is sitting there, right in front of you.

You break out of your stupor when you hear his voice. “Hey, what’s up?” he says casually. And you realize you’re being incredibly rude to someone who is older and a senior in the industry.

“Hello! I’m Saf. I’m a producer for H1GHR Music,” you introduce yourself officially.  

He chuckles a bit. “Yeah, I know. We’ve seen each other at the H1GHR-Ambition parties.”

“Right,” you say nervously. And you guys had met before, but you didn’t think he’d remember. He was always across the room or on the opposite end of the table, so you two never really interacted. In fact, this is the first time you’ve heard his voice, and not through a song on your phone.  

“So did you want to sit down?” he asks. You’ve just been standing in front of him for a while.  

“Oh!” you immediately take a seat. Now what are you supposed to say? Thankfully, he decides to fill the silence.

“You're friends with Rohan right?” he asks. Not really who you’re thinking about at the moment, but you'll take it.

“Yeah, I am. We're in the same crew,” you explain. “Why, did he say something about me?” you ask, feigning nonchalance. If Rohan said anything remotely embarrassing about you to Ash Island, you were ready to kill him.  

“Oh no, I just remembered him drunk-dialing me last night to wish me luck on the show.” You laughed, making a comment about how dumb Rohan was sometimes. And that’s how the rest of your conversation went until you started shooting, sharing dumb stories about your mutual friend.

-----

SHOW ME THE MONEY SEASON X

Team ASH ISLAND x SAF Q&A

The two are seated side-by-side in front of the camera. Ash Island is looking quite stiff and uncomfortable, while Saf has an easy smile on her face.

Please introduce yourselves.

After a glance at Ash Island, Saf begins her introduction with a bow.

Saf: Hello, everyone. My name is Saf, I’m a producer for H1GHR Music.

Following her lead, it seems Ash Island takes his first breath since the camera started rolling.

Ash Island: Hi, guys. I’m Ash Island from Ambition Musik.

Did you two know each other before the show?

Saf: Well, of course I don’t think there’s anyone interested in Korean hip hop right now that doesn’t know Ash Island. But we’ve also seen each other in passing at events and parties and such. This is my first time really talking to him though.

As she talks, Ash Island appears to loosen up just the slightest. He directs his gaze to Saf when he speaks.

Ash Island: [to Saf] You… can just call me Ash.

Saf looks at him in surprise, her cheeks just the slightest shade darker, undetectable to most.

-----

“WHY DID THEY EDIT IT LIKE THAT?” Rohan’s obnoxious laughter in the background is only furthering your agitation.

“Come on,” Rohan lets out between spurts of laughter. “That had nothing to do with the editing. Don’t tell me that wasn’t exactly how it felt when he looked at you.”

Unable to refute his claim, all you say is “Whatever.”

“Did they have to put in the romantic background music and CGI cherry blossoms though?” you complain.

Ignoring your best friend’s following fit of laughter, you begrudgingly hit play once again.

-----

“Duuuuude I didn’t realize you were so smooth!”

“Our Bition Baby is all grown up!”

“You can just call me Ash,” Changmo repeats in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“What are you guys talking about?” Ash asks, only slightly annoyed that his labelmates had interrupted his studio time. He wasn’t making much progress today anyway.

“Did you not watch the Show Me previews last night?” Hash Swan asks.

“No, I thought I’d avoid the embarrassment of seeing myself on national TV,” Ash replies. He was there when it happened, he didn’t need reminders of how awkward he was on camera.

“Alright, you have to watch this,” Leellamarz says, pulling up the reposted video on Youtube.

-----

You guys are the youngest producer team in the history of the show. Do you feel pressured by this fact?

Saf: [to Ash] Do you want me to answer this one?

He looks at her and nods wordlessly. She smiles at him in return before addressing the camera.

Saf: Of course, working next to such big names and artists can be quite intimidating. But I think as long as we put out work that we can be proud of, I will be satisfied.

Saf: But I would appreciate it if the viewers would look kindly upon us as it is our first time on this show. I’m kind of a wimp; I think I’d be pretty hurt if I saw we were receiving hate comments.

Saf’s smile indicates she’s only joking, and the production team can be heard laughing behind camera.

Ash: I doubt anyone in their right mind would send you hate.

Saf: Why not?

Ash: All you do is sit and smile and release music. What could anyone possibly say about you?

Saf: …I’ll take that as a compliment.

Ash: It was one.

-----

“I hope you know that if you break her heart,” Changmo starts, “I’m petitioning to kick you out of the company. I am NOT risking losing an invite to AOMG-H1GHR parties because of you.”

Ash rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, dude. Glad to know you have so much faith in me. But also, chill out. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Yet? So you are planning on making a move?” Hash Swan questions. Ash sighs. Why are these guys reading so much into everything he says?

“No, I am not making a move, I barely know her,” Ash refutes. “She’s just a producer that I will be working with for the next couple months.” That day was the first time he’d ever talked to you. There is no reason to get excited about anything just yet, even if he does think you have a nice smile.

“Come on, Ash. She’s not just a producer,” Leellamarz points out. Ash is a bit wary of where he’s going with this-

“She’s a very cute producer.” -and rightfully so. Ash really can’t catch a break with these guys. They all burst out laughing, and Changmo gives Leella a high-five.

“Whatever,” Ash mutters. “Why the sudden interest in my love life anyway?”

“Wow, you’re not even gonna try and deny that you think she’s cute?” Hash asks. This guy is way too observant.

“I have eyes. How am I supposed to not think she’s cute?” Ash says bluntly.

“You know, contrary to what you may believe, not everybody has to find her cute,” Changmo says, mostly just to tease him. “Maybe she’s just not my type,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, that’s because she’s actually nice,” Ash retorts. “And we all know that isn’t your type.”

“That’s never been your type either, Ash, so why the sudden change of heart?” Leella asks.

“Maybe I’m looking for a change of pace,” Ash says with a noncommittal shrug. This is all hypothetical anyway. It’s not like he’s planning on asking you out or anything. He just thinks you’re cute, there is no reason for the guys to make such a big deal out of it.

“Yeah, well be careful. You’re going to make some very scary people mad if you mess around with her,” Changmo warns.

“Please, the H1GHR guys are like literally the nicest guys on the planet. I think I’m safe,” Ash says.

“That’s not who I’d be worried about if I were you.”

-----

a/n: let me know what you think!! was the official show part too short? are there parts that sound weird/awkward? first time writing full fics so i'm always open to feedback!

[belatedbday69]

bkdk pride week - day six - purple or pride

“Ah jesus, gimme a break, Deku -”

“If you’re not going to go to the hospital -”

“Tch. I’m fine.”

“- at least let me check it out!” Izuku blocks the doorway of the kitchen, urging Katsuki to sit down. He rolls his eyes, but finally concedes, and Izuku’s fingers are in his hair in a second, pushing it back to get a better look.

He’d gotten into a fight. They were in America on a very special assignment with All Might and he got into a fight. Not with a villain, just some guy on the street who didn’t recognize them since they weren’t in uniform. Izuku didn’t even see what happened, turning around just in time to see his boyfriend trip back after taking a shiner to the face.

He steps in a bit closer to him to inspect the bruise. It’s already turned purple, swelling up red in the middle around his eyebrow. “You were reckless.” He has no interest in criticizing Katsuki, but he knows he’s smarter than that. They both know how heavily they’re being scrutinized while in America. “All Might’s gonna be pissed.”

“Yeah, well, whatever.”

“What even happened?” Izuku’s hands idle on Katsuki’s face. He has a sneaking suspicion of what happened, but he doesn’t want to say it.

“You didn’t hear him?”

“No?”

“Then I’m not telling you.”

“What?” He steps back then. “Why not?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Kacchan - your eye is going to turn all shades of yellow and violet, they’ll want an explanation -”

“So I’ll make something up.”

“Oh yeah? Give me one reason you’d get a black eye that isn’t a fistfight.” He just shrugs, looking away. “What’s your problem?” Izuku distracts himself by preparing an ice pack from the freezer. They don’t lie to each other or keep secrets, it’s just not how their relationship works. They’d done enough keeping secrets from each other for one lifetime.

“You don’t need to know.”

“I think I do!”

“Oh? And why’s that?” His voice is a little harsh, but Izuku knows he’s trying his best to engage with him - he’s genuinely asking.

“Because - because I want to be able to prevent this from happening in the future -”

He chuckles. “You can’t.”

Izuku hands him the ice pack, which he gently presses to his forehead. “Did they… were they being homophobic?”

“Oh wow, isn’t that the five-dollar word.” He doesn’t deny it.

“Kacchan, I’m…” He brings his hand to Katsuki’s cheek. “You don’t have to lie to me. I know things are different here in America. We just won’t hold hands in public if people are gonna be rude.”

“Fuck that.” Katsuki keeps his gaze. “If you think for a second I’m gonna let some dumb fucks change how I act around you, then you’re out of your mind. Everyone will just have to deal.”

Izuku wants to scold him. Tell him that it’s about safety, or that their public image is important, but he knows what he would say to that. None of it matters as much to Katsuki. It never has.

“If that’s okay with you,” Katsuki adds, looking a little less defensive. Izuku nods as he tries to bite back his tears.

“How did I get so lucky?” He manages to get out, unable to resist a sob. “I hope you’re okay.”

“Ah, c’mere Deku.” Katsuki pulls him in, holding him close as he whispers, “I’m fine, promise."

[gukieoppa]

not again | pt.1

➢ summary: he wanted a challenge, a good, innocent fuck, so why did his heart race at the sight of her?

➢ genre: romance, following angst and fluff, (as of now) no nsfw planned, college au

➢ pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader

➢ warnings: cursing, fluff, mentions of sex, body image insecurities

➢ note: i did this instead of homework and paying attention to class lmao. also it’s only 1.55k so i’m sorry if you wanted a longer chapter but expect short chapters from me because i’m not an excellent writer. i also decided to post this today because i’m going on trip to the beach for three days and i don’t know when i’ll have time to write. oof.

← teaser & pt.2 →

◇ ◇ ◇

Ever since you met Jeon Jungkook, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. His face was the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes. You finally understood why he was so popular, but that didn’t mean you would associate yourself with him even further. 

Truthfully, you didn’t go to the library after you talked to Jungkook. You went straight back to your dorm, catching a glimpse of his figure as you walked to the building. His figure, though, wasn’t alone. A silhouette of, what you assumed to be, a girl was beside him, their lips locked. You grunted and felt sickened by the sight, reminding yourself that it was better to have distance.

Jungkook, on the other hand, wanted to get closer to you, but he was afraid. Evidently by his title, he didn’t do relationships, but when it came to you, he felt something different: a feeling of need and possessiveness. That was why, when you were out of his sight, he pulled the closest girl who was ogling him to the nearest bathroom.

A good fuck was the only thing Jungkook felt he could cope with.

◇ ◇ ◇

Park Hyejin: you loved to hate her. She was your dorm mate, best friend, and so-called stylist. She’d always wanted to major in fashion, but her parents never allowed her, saying it wasn’t a stable job choice. That led her into the business major and to meeting you. 

◇ ◇ ◇

You saw a brunette sitting on a bench, crying her eyes out. Seeing as you had just had a pretty shitty day as well, you approached her.

“Sky looks nice,” you commented, standing beside the bench with your arms crossed.

The sky was plain. Nothing but smooth, grey clouds filled the sky. Though the sky itself was dull, the red and orange leaves made up for it. The autumn leaves desperately hung onto the tree branches, some blown off at the slightest breeze. 

You heard the girl let out a choked laugh, “Sure does.”

“Bad day?” You asked, looking over at her. She nodded, her brunette hair bouncing at the movement.

She wore a cream, knit cardigan atop of a black mock neck that was tucked into a brown, plaid, pleated skirt. Her shoes were basic combat boots, but they finished the outfit with a punch. 

“Aren’t you a little overdressed to be sulking on campus?” You teased, seeing as you were only in an oversized hoodie and sweats.

She let out a quiet sigh, “I guess, but what better way to display my fashion if I can’t pursue it?”

“May I give some feedback on the outfit?” You asked, feeling as if her outfit was missing a piece.

The girl sat up, improving her posture, “Please do.”

Your hand rested on your hip, “Though the overall outfit is gorgeous and much better than I could ever put together, I feel like there’s something missing.” Your finger rested on your chin as you thought. Then, it came to you, “A hat! Yes, that’s what's missing. Specifically, a beige beret. If you don’t like hats, though, you could put in those long hair clips things on the side of your head. Know what I mean?”

She perked up at your suggestion, “That’s actually a great idea! Are you secretly into fashion?”

That made you laugh.

“If I were into fashion, I wouldn’t wear the same pair of sweats every other day,” she grimaced in disgust.

“I should style you, then,” she smiled.

“I’ll have to think about it,” you suddenly realized that the pair of you hadn’t properly introduced yourselves. “By the way, I’m Y/N L/N. You are?”

“Park Hyejin,” she smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake. You shook her hand, a warm smile on both of your faces.

◇ ◇ ◇

“You talked to Jungkook? Jeon Jungkook?” She laughed loudly.

“Yes, I talked to him, but he approached me first,” you frowned at the girl you called your best friend.

“Doesn’t matter! You still talked to him,” she smirked, “So, how was it? Talking to the Jungkook?”

“Quite boring, not going to lie. We just made small talk, and, I kid you not, after talking for about five minutes, he suddenly said that he needed to leave,” you said, an unimpressed look plastered onto your face.

“Only five minutes? You must’ve been boring,” she snorted. 

You glared at her, “Me? Boring? Never, but I did see him devouring some girl’s face when I was coming back to the dorms.”

“Damn, he moves fast,” the two of you shared a mutual laugh.

◇ ◇ ◇

Jungkook was already on his third bottle of beer when Jimin burst into the house, whining about the lack of sex he had because of homework.

Park Jimin was one of Jungkook’s closest friends, apart from Kim Taehyung. Jimin also enjoyed one night stands, but he never went to the extent of Jungkook. Instead of spending every Friday night partying and getting drunk off his ass, Jimin would occasionally spend his time at the dance studio practicing. 

“Just pick up a random girl,” Jungkook slurred.

Jimin looked over at his intoxicated friend, “Drinking already? What happened?”

Jungkook let out a sarcastic laugh, “What do you mean? Can’t I drink when I want?”

“Alright, so this isn’t about that girl I saw you talking to this afternoon,” Jungkook’s head snapped over to look at the ash grey haired man.

“What?” The brunette seethed.

“Haven’t seen you talk to a girl like that in a while,” Jimin sighed, “What’s up? You know you can tell me.”

“Just leave me alone, hyung,” Jungkook groaned.

“She'll be good for you,” Jimin whispered before leaving the maknae to himself.

◇ ◇ ◇

“Taehyung,” you shouted, jogging over to your friend and study buddy. You hopped onto his back, arms wrapping around his torso, eliciting an “oof” from him.

“Y/N/N,” he looked over his shoulder to smile at you.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while,” you pouted.

“We literally saw each other like 5 days ago,” he said in disbelief.

“That’s 5 days too long.”

You hopped off of the blonde’s back and walked in front of him, “Hyejin dressed me up again,” he let out a small laugh, “Hey! What do you think? The outfit itself is gorgeous, but on me, it looks like, well, it just looks bad. I feel like I’m a walking potato.”

You were very self-conscious about your body, seeing as your best friend had the body of a model. It wasn’t that you didn’t go to the gym and work hard to have your desired body, it was that your expectations became harder to achieve as each day passed. 

“If you’re a walking potato, then what are the other girls? Moving trash cans?”

You gasped and slapped his arm, “You can’t say that! That’s rude.”

“I’m only speaking the truth,” he huffed, “I can’t deny it. You look fucking hot in that outfit,” he bit his lip and let his eyes roam your body.

“Ey! Eyes up here, buddy,” you slapped the side of his head lightly, earning a chuckle from him. “But seriously, are you sure I don’t look fat?”

“Y/N/N, you’re not fat. You’re gorgeous on the inside and out. I’m being completely honest right now,” you looked at your feet, “You need to treat yourself better. You don’t see all the jealous glares girls send your way because you always take the breath away from other guys.”

You gave him a weak smile, “Thanks, Tae. Love you.”

“Love you, too, princess,” he teased.

Laughing and shaking your head, you grab his arm, “Do you have time to help me study tonight?”

“Study?” He smirked, “What kind of studying are you talking about?”

You gagged and pushed him away, “Never mind! I can study on my own.”

“No, wait! Come back, babe,” he chased after you as you ran away from him.

“Be gone,” you say as you get into a fighting stance.

Then in perfect sync, you both yell, “Thot!”

◇ ◇ ◇

Hand in hand, you and Taehyung approached the double story home. 

“Fair warning, it might be messy on the inside,” Taehyung spoke up.

“You live here?” You asked, flabbergasted.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “But I have two roommates who, by the way, are my best friends. They’re almost always horny, though.”

“Aren’t you always horny?” You smirked.

“Would you like to find out?” He winked, nudging your shoulder with his.

Your nose scrunched in disgust, “Gross,” he laughed, “We have work to do and not a lot of time, so let’s get it!”

You skipped over to the door, waiting for your friend to unlock the door for you. When he reached where you were, he pulled the door open without unlocking it.

“You don’t lock the door? That’s so stupid,” you scolded him.

“Oh hush. My roommates are probably home already,” he spoke as he walked into the house.

The smell of beer stung your nose, and you winced in disgust. You looked around for the source of the odor to find bottles of finished beer sitting on a table. Beside that table, though, was the culprit responsible for the placing of the empty bottles.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Always made to break (S.M.)

Summary: Shawn meets someone who reawakens his soul and makes him question his choices in love. 

Warnings: swearing, slight angst, fluff

Word count: 4k

A/N - I’ve had this in my drafts for a while, so I decided to post it and see how you guys like it, so let me know if you want more.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

''Were you ever going to tell me?“ She practically growled at Shawn as she threw a magazine in his lap, the tone she used scaring him enough to look up at her face, the beautiful features now twisted with rage and disappointment, something he never wanted to see her direct at him.

''I don't unders-'', but then he saw just what she meant, seeing his face attached to Camilla's on the front page of a random gossip magazine. He knew why she was looking at him with such fire in her eyes, and not the kind he expected to see in the bedroom, but the purest form of hatred mixed with pain.

''Not only did you poise as some poor photography student, but you also claimed you're single?! How stupid can I be, right?“ She put her right hand on her hip, using the back of her left one to wipe under her nose although nothing was there but a fathom sensation of coldness he had caused her insides now manifesting on the outside as well. She didn't shed a single tear yet, her anger not allowing her heartbreak to show.

It is better to hate him for his lies than to feel sorry for herself, she decided.

''I didn't want to...“ Shawn trailed off, unable to find the words. He, a man of many words, a person who had always managed to put his emotions in the most eloquent of ways had found himself speechless at a time he needed his words the most.

''Didn't want what? To tell me you're rich and famous? That you're dating a star? Huh?!“ She huffed, her eyes burning him with the intensity of the unrestrained pit of bursting flames within.

''What was this to you? Huh? A joke? Did it make you feel good to make me the fool?!“ She shouted, the raw emotion ripping her throat like a thousand razorblades.

Bowing his head down, Shawn swallows thickly, his eyes filling with tears he knew would only anger her more in this moment. He doesn't get to cry over breaking her heart, he just doesn't.

At the beginning

It was supposed to be a calm, ordinary Monday morning for Shawn. After months on the road, it was nice to be back home for a short break from the stage and screaming fans, just him and his earplugs and a good cup of coffee. It was supposed to be a regular, lonesome morning to start the day off right, but things never really work out the way we want them to.

Whether he meant to sit in that particular café, in that particular chair, with that particular song playing as he lazily glanced around before taking the first sip of his coffee, Shawn had started a chain of events that would lead him into a world of trouble, yet unimaginable love and heartache.

In that lazy glance, Shawn had managed to catch a young girl's eye, his curls falling over his eyes obscuring his vision. She had merely smiled at him, so sweetly, so shyly, enough for Shawn to return the gesture. Her eyes fell back on her phone and he assumed she was likely sending a message to all her friends about seeing THE Shawn Mendes, probably posting a sneakily taken photo of him in his moment of supposed tranquility as well.

It's not as if he's not used to it, but Shawn really hoped he'd have this morning to himself, a moment to put his thoughts in proper order and a second to breathe. He's been having his picture taken every day, multiple times by fans and paparazzi, especially since he started the whole agreement with Camila and her team.

Shawn was tired of it, drained, so when he hoped for a moment of his own and lost it? He truly didn't feel at ease anymore.

He looked back at the girl once more, angrily with eyes narrowed. She seemed oblivious to his newfound outlet as she kept scrolling on her phone. She was beautiful, Shawn couldn't deny that. In fact, it's why he looked her way in the first place – it's why he sat in this particular café, outside on such a cold morning to have his coffee, all because she caught his eye as he was passing the street. However, whatever drew him in had now pushed him away as he scoffed under his breath, shaking his head.

That's when she looked up from her phone and trained her eyes on him again, a confused look passing her features as she stood slowly, setting herself on a path toward him.

Rolling his eyes, Shawn reminded himself to be nice for his image is kindness and never random rage outbursts on young girls who want a photo with him. He drew in a short, quick breath of fresh air before he looked up at her when she stopped a few feet away from him, prepared to fake it if need be.

"I’m really not in the mood.” Shawn says before he can stop himself, mentally face palming when he sees the girl’s eyebrows furrow, her bottom lip sinking between her teeth as she cleared her throat.

“I wanted to ask if you needed something aside from the coffee considering you’ve been looking at me this whole time. I just assumed you were annoyed because my colleague hasn’t been out in a while. I’m sorry for making the wrong assumption and bothering you.” She wasn’t harsh or rude, making Shawn feel even guiltier as he paled. Finally realizing she’s the waitress, Shawn’s paleness is quickly replaced with a crimson shade that he could never truly hide.

The girl didn’t get a chance to walk away as he stood up abruptly, knocking the table up in the process with his thighs, some of his coffee spilling over.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be so rude, I just…I do want something.” Shawn exclaimed, hoping he can dig himself out of this deep hole he managed to dig for himself in a matter of seconds. “A bagel! And a brownie, please?” Shawn gave her an awkward smile, running his hand through his messy curls as she studies him with care, unsure if she should say something about his odd behavior or just take it like she usually does.

There are worse customers than him, she thinks.

“Sure.” She sighs, placing her phone on his table before whipping out a small notepad to write his order down, walking away right after.

Sitting down, Shawn sighed heavily at his stupidity, chuckling at himself. Rubbing his forehead to soothe an oncoming headache, he opens his eyes only to find her phone is still on the table, unlocked at that!

He stared at the gadget with great interest, wondering if he had assumed more than one thing wrong and if he had to change his opinion of this girl entirely. He didn’t want to take the phone and search it, but what’s the harm in peering over his cup to see what app she’s got open, right?

“Most common complications of a bowl resection?” Shawn reads under his breath, his eyebrows knitted together as he stares at the words that quite frankly sound like they came from a Grey’s anatomy episode.

“What are you doing?” A sweet voice startles him into a small yelp, the girl chuckling at this tall hunk who seems to be so clumsy and presumptuous that she can’t quite figure him out yet.

“Oh, I…Uh…I’m a simple guy, really. I see a phone screen and I have to sneak a peek, except I can’t understand a damn thing written on there.” Shawn rubbed the back of his neck nervously, sure as hell that his face is tomato red by now. He hates tomatoes just as much as he hates his treacherous cheeks for betraying every emotion he’s ever had.

Giggling, she places his order on the table, pushing back a strand of hair behind her right ear. She takes her phone swiftly, pocketing it in a single move.

“Yeah, I’ve got an exam to prepare for. Been working the night shift! Lucky me!” She exclaims sarcastically, her lips pressed together before she places the bill on his table too, turning around to go.

She isn’t even wearing a uniform, Shawn realizes, watching her as she takes her bag and begins to pack her things from the table she was sat at before. She took his order even after her shift ended. Biting down on his bottom lip, Shawn could sense a war is brewing between his head and heart, each arguing why he should or should not go after her.

Shawn’s always been a heart guy, deciding to go ahead and listen to it once again.

Jumping to his feet, Shawn moves toward her on instinct, not quite ready for her to go. He’s got too much accumulated guilt over judging her and assuming things about her that he was clearly wrong about and while she didn’t know it, he still wanted to make amends. Shawn needed to do something nice for the girl who had been kind enough not to cuss him out for being inexcusably rude to her.

“Where are you going?" He asks before he could stop himself. His head cocked to the side, his eyes shifting from the ground to the unknown girl. He barely knew her, hell, Shawn didn’t even know her name, but his heart stopped and he could barely breathe when she decided to leave.

She looked up in wonder, observing him with slight worry in her eyes, another thing he found endearing.

“I have that exam in an hour. Gotta get to my bus on time.” She shrugged, giving him a tiny wave as a means to say goodbye.

Shawn needed more time with her. He needed to talk to her, to get to know her, to at least find out her name. For some reason he couldn’t even fathom, Shawn felt drawn to this stranger, this girl who didn’t seem to know or give a damn about who he is. She is the type of people he surrounds himself with – people who are grounded and will keep him human. He wouldn’t admit to it, but she was also a beauty he couldn’t part with for reasons not of the mind, but of the heart. He knew it wouldn’t be a smart idea to get involved with someone now, not when he was under contract to be with someone else and so publicly.

However, when she made a move to leave, Shawn had to react before his heart completely stopped.

"I'm guessing you need a ride?" His voice was soft-spoken and mellow, sending a warm glow throughout Y/N’s body.

"Taking the bus won’t kill me, but thanks for the offer." Y/N smiled, waving at the café’ window. Shawn grabbed a twenty and left it on his table quickly, pointing at it in hopes of someone coming out to take the money for he had no time to pay for it right now. Shawn had decided to get in his car and chase after the girl who had started her walk to the nearest bus station, her determined walk noticeable and distinctive.

“You said you’ve been working all night, right?” He talked loudly, needing her to hear him, as if she could miss a car like his slowing down beside her or the doe-eyed guy nearly shouting at her through his open window.

“Yeah. So?” She stops, crossing her arms over her chest, uncertainty in her eyes. She looked at Shawn with such confusing emotion that he could hardly breathe when he allowed himself the luxury of staring into her eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she knew him for years, that they have history, that they’ve met in a previous life. The look in her eyes and the feeling he’d get in his heart when he’d meet her gaze? It felt like more than two strangers talking.

“Don’t want to fall asleep on the bus and miss your stop, now do ya?” Shawn tried, unsure how to convince her to let him drive her.

“I’d also prefer not to be killed by the seemingly kind stranger who offered me a ride.” She cocked an eyebrow, starting to walk again which forced Shawn to press down on the gas pedal lightly.

“My name’s Shawn and I promise I’m not a killer, just a big supporter of education who has nothing better to do than help a girl who looks like she could use a kind gesture after a hard night.”

Y/N stops again, rolling her eyes at the sky before letting out a deep breath she didn’t know she was holding. Was it wise to get into a car of a man she knew for less than an hour? A handsome stranger that could easily turn out to be a Ted Bundy she found herself attracted to?

Definitely not wise, she thought as she opened the passenger door and sat inside.

"Cute name." she smiled shyly.

“I’m Y/N.” She tells him, putting on the seatbelt before looking into his whiskey brown eyes.

“Your name is cuter.” Shawn’s crooked smile made her heart flip. The wind gently brushed his curls as he kept his window open, the breeze grazing his face, almost soothingly.

This is what he needed though, some adventure. Some risk. Some danger. Giving a ride to a girl he met didn’t constitute as adventure, risk or danger, but being seen doing so? Definitely.

She types in the location in his GPS, leaning back in her seat as the radio fills the silence. Nearly choking on his own saliva, Shawn changed the song he had recognized just by the first few beats, before Senorita could blast through the speakers.

“So, uh…what kind of music do you like?” Shawn asked awkwardly, feeling her gaze upon him not a second later. It’s as if being set on fire, but not in the way it hurts the skin, rather puts the soul on a path worth taking.

“Classical mostly. Old rock music too.” She responds, receiving a hum from Shawn in response. He relaxed visibly, knowing there’s a much lesser chance that she’d know he’s Shawn Mendes if he’s not what she usually listens to.

“You seem like a pop-rock kind of a guy.” She assumed, lifting her left eyebrow quizzically, waiting for him to agree or deny.

Shawn couldn’t hold himself back from smiling widely, nodding before sparing her a quick glance. “Nice guess.” He adds, noticing her cheeks redden, not nearly as bad as his, but enough to know she’s not indifferent.

“So, you’re a med student or a method actor?” Shawn chuckled, catching her playfully rolling her eyes at him and his stomach flipped at the gesture. She looked cute even annoyed with him and he knew he’d love to annoy her for a really long time if she’d let him.

“First one would be right!” She exclaimed, pressing her lips together as she turned to the side, looking out the window instead of him.

“That’s pretty impressive! Beauty and brains? It’s every man’s dream.” Shawn told her honestly, at least from his perspective. He had already found himself on her hook, wanting more and more all the while knowing he’ll soon have to leave her at the university and in less than a month, he’d leave the continent as well.

“You might be the only guy thinking that. It feels the day I started med school, I signed some invisible contract where I was doomed to be lonely and friendless. I never have time for friends or relationships. When I’m not in class, I’m working or studying. If I do have free time, I’m usually exhausted to the point of just curling up and watching Netflix. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” She bit her lip, eyes everywhere but on Shawn.

She didn’t know why she told him this, something she’d been carrying around on her shoulders for so long. She barely knows him, yet Shawn just oozes good vibes and trustworthiness that she couldn’t help herself. It’s been a while since she had someone to be genuine with, so what’s the harm in oversharing with a stranger she’ll likely never see again?

“If you’re passionate about something, it will often demand you abandon all else. There will be times where you’ll wonder why you ever did it, why you’ve made such a decision as if you didn’t know it would be like this…you did, I know you were aware it would be hard and let me tell you, all the good things in life are hard and demand sacrifice and once you’ve got it, you’ll be reminded just why you chose it. Something happens and you’re reminded and you’ll be back in the right mindset.” Shawn tightens his hold on the steering wheel, aware he’s telling himself the same.

He’s lost the passion he used to have for music in the circus his team imposed on him and now he’s here, in the car with a girl he just met yet felt so incredibly connected to in comparison to the girl he’s supposedly dating that it was hard not to feel like life turned on him.

When he started writing music and playing it live, Shawn never realized how fake the public persona he’d have to create would be. He always thought musicians had free reign to be who they are, to enjoy life, but he’s received a cold shower of pure facts in the past year and he’s still struggling to come to terms with it.

“I really hope so.” She smiled, reaching out for his hand. She laid her palm gently on the back of Shawn’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before removing it quickly.

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of bummed we’re already here.” Shawn sighed as he parked, looking over at the girl he wanted to stay more than ever. She wasn’t a stranger anymore, not even close. In his world, the rule states you’re no longer strangers if you’ve:

A) gotten drunk together

or

B) had a heart to heart.

“Bet you say that to all the strangers you give a lift to.” Her lips pulled to the left into a crooked smile, one Shawn wanted to make wider, brighter.

“Just ones I really like.” Shawn countered, smiling as well. It’s hard to resist a smile when she’s got her angelic lips spreading into the smile he wanted to see.

“You like me, eh?” She teased, coyly lifting an eyebrow as she lets her lips pucker.

“Never denied it.” Shawn raised his hands in a mock surrender, chuckling.

Then he moves closer with those eyes that look so deeply into her own, as if he could see who she is underneath all the layers she’s created to protect herself from the hurt. It’s like he sees her soul, the real Y/N and never in her life had she felt seen like she did with Shawn. He made her feel like she’s the only girl in the world and she knew then she’d never find that gaze in any other man’s eyes, never such intensity, raw emotion and understanding.

“As long as we’re clear on that.” She smirked, moving away slightly, not ready for what his eyes were telling her.

“Are you feeling better about the exam now? About everything? Because I meant what I said. You’ll be okay, even if it feels otherwise.” Shawn decided to diffuse the situation, the tension growing too fast for her to be comfortable with it, he could tell.

“About the fact that I’m not sure if I’ll ever find love or be the girl a guy would go to the ends of the world for?” She shrugged, chuckling dryly.

It’s much easier to make fun of what bothers her than face it head on. She’s been feeling so lost for such a long time that her coping mechanisms weren’t quite something most people are used to. But Shawn? He doesn’t even blink at her darkness. He doesn’t look away or shows he’s tired of her already. He doesn’t push her away for being so gloomy, he’s doing the opposite. He listens as if her words are golden, some elixir he's been waiting all his days to hear.

From what he says next she can tell he is thinking so deeply, already with a strategy that's several moves ahead of her. And in his words is a kindness, a concern that is so quick that, for him, it is natural. This attentiveness is a part of who he is and that is the most attractive feature Y/N’s ever seen in a man.

“You are though. I’ve known you for an hour and I’m already thinking just how badly I want to take you out and shower you with affection. You’re so beautiful, so raw, so fucking oblivious to your qualities that it makes me both angry and stubbornly certain that I want to change your view of yourself.” Shawn takes her hand in his, clasping it between his palms as his left hand, the one with a swallow tattoo, closes over hers. A tattoo like that would be hard to forget.

“I’ve found out that you’re intelligent, hardworking, ambitious, funny in a nonconventional way, incredibly brave for setting out on this journey, extremely good and devoted to helping humanity one person at a time, caring and you think of others even when you don’t have to. You were kind to me when I wasn’t to you, honest and open with your heart and mind…And that’s all within an hour of knowing you. And I desperately want more as creepy as it may sound.” Shawn’s words have made her eyes gloss over and she couldn’t stop herself from chuckling too.

When a woman’s sure she’s destined to be alone and that her perfect man isn’t real and then finds him when she’s given up on the notion – it’s a shock to the body. His smile alone burnishes her soul into a beauty it could never have achieved on its own. Before they met, both Shawn and Y/N were one, now they’re each a half, yet somehow so much more than they ever were before.

“I’m really glad I met you, Shawn. It’s truly an honor.” She managed to say before she leaned in so swiftly he had no chance to even move. Her lips brushed his for no longer than a moment, a single breath yet long enough to make him crave more, so much more. Just as quickly as they warmed his heart, her lips were gone and so was she.

He watched her walk away, her head bent as she stared at her shoes in thought, his heart slamming against his ribcage helplessly. He’d have ran after her, but he couldn’t afford some of the students recognizing him and snapping a photo. He couldn’t risk the world knowing he was living a lie, dating Camila on paper but already in love with a woman he was destined to fail in the long run.

Shawn should have let Y/N become a sweet memory he’d return to when the nights became too cold, too lonely to brave on his own. He should have let it be a fantasy, but he couldn’t. Whether he wanted it or not, Shawn was drawn to the same café the very next morning, hoping to run into the medical student who had captivated him.

[bybibucky]

Honey, Just Tell Him

Bucky Barnes x reader One Shot

     You’re much less quiet about your obsession with the idea of being fucked by Bucky Barnes than you should be. What if, one day, he catches on?

     word count: 5.4k

     warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), a smidge dubcon, oral (f receiving), choking, gagging, exhibitionism, bit of bondage, spanking, face slapping, degradation

note: idk what exactly happened here but this is my filthiest one yet. the working title was BUCKY VIOLENT SMUT so do with that what you will. feel free to yell at me in the comments

Bucky Barnes was strong. Everybody knew this, everybody was intimidated. He was a bit of a violent guy – came with the territory – and everybody flinched whenever he rose his voice. Granted, that wasn’t often, but recruits knew not to approach him unprompted. He wouldn’t actually hurt them, especially not the new ones, but he had a century worth of deadly reflexes on his side, and anyone would be clever not to tempt him into letting his inhibitions go.

But you, you wanted those inhibitions gone. Practically every mission you were on with him, whenever you watched him squeeze the life out of various villains with that fucking metal arm, whenever you marveled at his insane precision every time he pulled the trigger on one of his guns, whenever he threw his favorite knife, you were as wet between your legs as the blood seeping from Bucky’s victims.

It was hot beyond relief and such a contrast to his sweetheart-self at home. Not that he wasn’t sexy every minute of every day, but this danger that oozed off of him whenever he needed to be a weapon was difficult for you not to find attractive.

“You have to stop staring at him.” Natasha came up right next to you, and you almost jumped out of your skin. That pathetic hiding spot behind one of the punching bags that hung from the ceiling apparently wasn’t all that secretive. “He’ll notice it one day. If he hasn’t already.” The sound of her voice traveled from one of your ears to the other as she walked to stand behind you so you wouldn’t be seen by Bucky. To your luck, he was preoccupied with his own punching bag.

“I can’t,” you whispered, “and you know it.” Your obsession had become prominent enough for it to be your main topic on girls’ nights.

“Honey, just tell him.” There was a comforting hand on your shoulder, but her tone was traced with annoyance.

“Tell him?” you screeched, though still barely above a whisper, “tell him what exactly? Fuck me senseless, Bucky Barnes? Step on my throat until I lose consciousness?”

Natasha couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Maybe not in those exact words. But I’m willing to bet he’d fuck you sideways till Sunday or whatever you want to call it if you just asked. He’s not shy about it.”

You groaned. You were painfully aware of how not-shy he was about his sex life. There barely passed a night in which you didn’t have to listen to Bucky going to town with a random girl he had brought home. His room was next to yours, and at this point you were convinced that the universe had constructed this specifically to torture you. “Don’t remind me.”

As Bucky sent the already weak punching bag flying across the room with a hearty kick, you were ready to whimper. The image of you getting shoved against a wall in a similar fashion was instantly on your mind. Helpless, you felt jealousy grow in your chest when Bucky waved over a new recruit towards the sparring mat.

Natasha chuckled beside you, taking a deep breath to get ready to ruin your life. “Hey, Barnes!” She stepped around the punching bag, pulling you with her. “I got a better opponent for you!”

A minute later, you were stood at the opposite side of the mat, facing Bucky. You weren’t enhanced yourself, much like Nat wasn’t, but you had taken him down before. Although, you weren’t sure you would again, not if he looked like that. The shirt was rudely tight and even the obvious sweat stains didn’t repulse you, rather on the contrary. He was panting, that signature smirk on his lips taunting you.

“Anything off limits?” he asked and you already felt your stance weaken.

You shook your head. “You know the drill, Barnes.”

“Then c’mon, doll,” he said lowly, “give me everything you’ve got.”

Naturally, you pounced. His hands met you half way, firm around your waist to throw you over his shoulder a second later, but yours were still free to punch him straight in the jaw. He didn’t take the time to wipe at the corner of his mouth were a bead of blood was gathering, of course he didn’t, and instead spun you around, one arm switching to wrap around your throat. It wasn’t enough to cut off your airway and you appreciated that. It gave you the opportunity to drop your weight in his hands. He’d let go, you knew it, so he wouldn’t actually choke you, and you would use that as leverage to hook a leg around one of his to make him falter.

Bucky fell, rolling over in an attempt not to crush you, and you sighed when he gave you enough time to get back on your feet.

“You’re holding back,” you said, complaining. This wasn’t how training was supposed to go.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” His stance called for a time out, and you relaxed as well.

“Yeah,” you said, “you’re coddling me and you’re giving me all those opportunities to take advantage of you.”

Bucky laughed, whole-heartedly. “You’re taking advantage of me?”

Your lips pulled together in a pout. “Haven’t you noticed? You’re open everywhere. It’s no fun if you let me win.”

His smile darkened. “So you’re telling me to go all in? No mercy whatsoever?”

“Yes, obviously!” You bounced on the balls of your feet, excited now. You’d been craving a real challenge. Okay, more like craving something vastly different from Bucky, but this was the next best thing.

A second later, your back smacked against the mat, wind knocked from your lungs. You hadn’t even seen it coming. “What the fuck,” you coughed, Bucky’s face appeared above you. “I wasn’t ready.”

He cocked his head. “You said no mercy. Nobody would wait for you in a real fight.”

“This is a real fight.” Your lungs were still not fully filling up and you knew there would be bruises tomorrow.

Bucky laughed again. “Not a fair one, doll. You’d never win against me.”

Like hell you wouldn’t. Once you had regathered your strength and will to fight, your hands flew up, trying to push him off, but he was quicker. In one swift move, he trapped your wrists above your head. No matter how much you struggled, they wouldn’t budge.

“Face it, doll.” God, when had his mouth become so close? “You’re a weak little thing. Nothing against my power. I could do anything I want to you like this and you’d just have to endure it. Only begging can help you now.”

A whimper caught in your throat and you swallowed it down. He couldn’t know.

But his hearing was enhanced. “What was that, princess? Am I hurting you?”

He was but you couldn’t let it show. You shook your head. Any second the two of you stayed in this position was too amazing to pass up on. Princess?

Bucky leant down to whisper. “Don’t lie to me.” His hot breath fanned across your neck, forcing out goosebumps in their wake. “It won’t do you any good.”

You were at a loss for words. What had gotten into him? Part of you was suddenly convinced you had hit your head too hard against the mat and where now unconscious and dreaming. But when he scraped his teeth along your jaw line, practically biting down, you knew. No dream felt like this. You felt your nipples as taut pebbles against your sports bra, your core practically aching already.

“You’re wet, aren’t you, doll?” he asked, and you shook your head vehemently. But Bucky scoffed, “bad girl. Still lying even when I told you not to.” He wouldn’t let up, instead spoke again, and you pressed your thighs together at his words. “I can smell it on you.”

Now you couldn’t hold back the whimper. It forced itself out of your throat in a mix of arousal and embarrassment.

Bucky chuckled. “There we go,” he said, still so fucking close to your ear. “I told you you’d lose against me.”

You shook your head, entire body thrashing with it. The attempt wasn’t to get him off you, but rather because you couldn’t contain your energy. His words were doing unspeakable things to you.

“No?” The mocking tone hadn’t left his voice. “Go on, then. Try to escape.” But your hands were glued to the mat, he didn’t even try to spare you some of his colossal weight that pressed against your body. That and the sheer weight of his words kept you immobilized entirely. “Thought so.”

You puffed out a breath in annoyance. This wasn’t fair at the slightest. He was being mean for no damn reason. But you couldn’t deny the way it was making you feel. Being at his mercy like this was exhilarating.

His free hand firmly grasped your jaw. “I don’t like that little attitude on you,” he said and with the way he was holding you, it was impossible for you to respond. “You think you can just lie here, pretending you’re not fucking turned on, when we both know that you’re parading your filthy state of mind all day every day?”

Oh God, did he somehow know about your pathetic crush on him? Was this punishment for letting it consume you?

“Don’t look at me like that,” he continued, “you’re not the innocent victim in this. You’ve been telling everyone in detail how you want me to rail you. ‘Fuck me senseless, Bucky Barnes? Step on my throat until I lose consciousness?’ That can be arranged, doll. You could have just asked.”

Was he actually serious? This had to be some cruel joke. “Did Nat tell you?” Suddenly, there was deep pit in your stomach. But Bucky wouldn’t have any of it.

“She didn’t have to,” he said, “not only can I smell your arousal – by the way, it’s so prominent right now that I can almost taste it – but you can’t really hide from my enhanced hearing. Especially when we’re in the same room and you’re literally begging to be fucked.” The hand on your jaw finally released you, only to run down the hollow of your throat until it found the hemline of your sports bra. Inches away from your breasts, you arched your back, trying to push them into his grip.

“Oh, you really are a little slut,” Bucky murmured, “aren’t you, princess?”

It didn’t feel like a question, so you didn’t reply. But the need to shake your head in a pathetic attempt to maintain your propriety remained.

“No?” He almost laughed, and you felt the offending puff of air against your neck. “So you don’t touch yourself and moan my name? You’ve never told any of your friends how you want me to fuck you hard enough to leave bruises? Because I’m pretty sure I heard you. Are you telling me I imagined all of that?”

You wished you could tell him that he was imagining it, that there wasn’t an undeniable pool of your arousal seeping through your yoga pants – which he could apparently smell – and that you weren’t hungry for him like you like you hadn’t eaten in months. But he had told you not to lie. You shook your head once more.

Bucky smiled against your skin. “Then tell me, princess, are you a little whore?” He finally brushed his fingers against your nipple and that alone compelled you to say, “yes!”

“There we go,” he hummed, “you can’t hide from me.” Briefly, he pushed your wrists into the mat, signaling for you to keep them there. At this point, you had almost forgotten they were there at all, so at ease with being unable to move.

Then, less asking for permission – because he knew he had it – and more finally taking what he wanted, he wrenched open your legs, calloused hands firmly on your knees. They slid up, up towards your center, but ignored it completely, and you were ready to cry when they settled on your stomach instead.

You whined high in your throat, and Bucky full-on laughed at you. “You want me to touch your cunt, is that it?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question, “poor thing. You’ve been bad, princess.”

Princess. There it was again. Where was that coming from? Before today, he had never used that word, much less in this context, but you didn’t get the opportunity to think about it further, because Bucky tore at the fabric of your sports bra and pushed it up, finally freeing your tits. Instantly, he attached his mouth to one of your nipples – all teeth, sucking harshly.

“God, fuck!”

Bucky came up for air, regarding you for a half-second. “Shut up,” he said, an unimpressed growl in his voice, “you want the whole compound to hear us?”

You hadn’t thought of that. Right now, you had your tits out in the middle of the gym. There were floor-to-ceiling windows practically everywhere. Anyone could see. But you didn’t care. All you wanted was more of Bucky, whatever he would give you.

Before you could give him an answer, he brought your scrunched-up bra higher up until it was level with your mouth, and without waiting for you to react, he shoved the fabric between your teeth. You were trapped, arms pressed against your head as the tight garment held them in place, silencing you.

He went on, bringing all his attention to your other nipple while the first one lie completely forgotten, soaked skin tortured by the air conditioning. You wanted to touch it yourself, twist and pull to imitate his teeth but you weren’t allowed.

“More,” you moaned instead, voice muffled by your sports bra. You could feel him smile against your bud, the tender skin slick with his spit there as well.

“You need to learn to behave, little girl,” Bucky said matter-of-factly, his face back in front of yours, “you’ve wanted me for so long and now that you finally have me you can’t wait five minutes?” He scoffed. “I thought you were better than that.”

Shaking your head, you opened your mouth to beg. “Please, Bucky, please.” Speaking now – as coherently as you could – you didn’t recognize your own voice. The desperation was heavy and a borderline moan traced every syllable, even through your makeshift gag.

Bucky took pity on you. Partly, at least. He leaned back to unceremoniously pull at your yoga pants as well as you underwear until you were completely bare from the head down. There was a significant rise in his power like this, him above you fully clothed while he had you writhe and moan naked beneath him. You loved every second.

Fully bypassing your clit where he knew for a fact was the place you ached for him the most, Bucky plunged two of his fingers straight into your pussy. They were thick, thicker than your own, and longer on top of that, instantly reaching spots you could only dream of by yourself. You were ready to mewl but the possibility of him stopping at all when he had barely begun and it already felt like this was too much of a threat.

Bucky watched your nostrils flare as you tried your best not to cry out while also continuing to bring enough air into your lungs. One hand keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers fucking into your cunt, the other went to stroke your chest. “You think you can be a good girl for me and stay quiet?” he asked, and it was the gentlest he had been this whole time, “I’ll get you out of this.” His free hand found your makeshift gag, slightly pulling the fabric tighter against your lips. It was now fully lodged between your teeth. He was teasing you.

You nodded as much as you could in your restraint. Part of you wanted it gone. What if you moaned again, then? Would he punish you?

“If you say so,” he drew the words out, warning you. And he slipped the sports bra, its fabric soaked in your spit, up your arms and off. One-handed, unsurprisingly, and kept his other hand between your legs, warm flesh fingers pumping into you. His thumb joined the party, lightly flicking your clit and you would have almost lost your composure, had it not been for the raise of Bucky’s brow. You didn’t want to disappoint just seconds after being granted some mercy.

You had known he was good at this – countless nights of having to listen to him take apart is conquests were proof enough – but you hadn’t expected the feeling of drowning like this. Cotton in your ears, you noticed yourself to be almost paralyzed. Anything physical that was restraining you was gone by this point, his hands only there to pleasure you. What kept you without movement were solely his words and your desire to be good for him.

But then, his metal fingers replaced his flesh hand in your pussy, consequently hitting the most delicious spot while he kept his thumb on your clit, and you couldn’t contain the high-pitched moan that burst from your lips in surprise. It was met, even more shockingly, with Bucky’s hand slipping from you only to slap across your cheek.

Your head whipped to the side harshly, almost straining your neck. He eyed you dangerously when you looked back at him and your stomach churned.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

The thought was there. That you should lie, deny him that power over you, but he would have seen right through it.

“Don’t play innocent. I could feel your walls clench around me, grip me so fucking tight,” he groaned, “wanna squeeze my cock like that, princess?”

The frantic nodding of your head happened on its own accord and your hips bucking only underlined it further. He laughed at you.

“Fucking hell you’re desperate,” he said, “and I’m all here for it.” The confession was accompanied by a bruising kiss. He stopped his ministrations on your pussy, but the kiss was so good that you didn’t even fully notice. It was the first of its kind, Bucky’s lips tangling with yours deliciously. Tiny, tiny whimpers slipped through and he ate them all up, quite literally.

When he pulled away, his eyes were even darker than before, they almost weren’t even blue anymore. You were certain your facial expression mirrored his, though presumably, you looked more wrecked that he ever would.

“I should keep you like this forever,” he mused, “bound and chained to any flat surface just for me to take you and take you until you’re bruised and aching, dripping with cum. You would be the pettiest sight.”

Your breath hitched. The thought of that was starting to get to you embarrassingly harshly. It sounded it amazing.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he continued, “wanna be a good little girl for me?”

“Please.”

“Think you’ve been good enough for me to taste you?” he asked and you went to respond but Bucky answered for himself, “I don’t think you have. A good girl wouldn’t have flaunted herself, worn those skimpy little outfits when outside it’s fucking snowing, told anyone who would listen how much you need to get railed. No, you’ve been bad, asking for it without actually asking for it.” Bucky slapped you square on the thigh and you jumped in surprise, whimpering.

“That’s what I want,” he said, “so sensitive that you flinch when I raise my hand, reduced to nothing but a complying, whimpering mess.”

Your eyes nearly rolled back in bliss. That simple thought went further than your own fantasies, but sounded delicious. “Your mess,” you agreed. Bucky smiled.

By now, you were dripping down to his wrist, your pussy letting out a filthy squelch every time he pushed his metal fingers in. Accidentally focusing on that, on how embarrassing it really was, you didn’t register how Bucky propped himself up on his elbows between your thighs, but the first contact of his tongue against your cunt definitely didn’t go unnoticed. You bucked against his face on accident and Bucky pulled back instantly.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled, “you’ll take whatever I give you, not a fraction more.”

But you couldn’t stop. Being turned on way past the breaking point, and his mouth was too skilled for you to just lie there, unresponsive. Bucky got up a moment later, cussing you out under his breath as he walked over to the wall of weights across the room.

You thought he was leaving you altogether, that you had annoyed him one too many times, but the thoughts died right when you opened your mouth to call after him. Because Bucky returned, a barbell in hand. Eyes widening, you watched it come closer until it sat square across your abdomen. It wasn’t tight enough to make breathing more difficult, but enough to trap you against the mat. He smirked at the sight, towering above you.

“This is what happens if you don’t comply, princess,” he said darkly, “but you’ll bend against my will eventually, even if I have to force you.”

Bucky was back between your legs before you knew it, resuming his work against your pussy. He forewent your clit entirely, much to your dismay, but beneath the little contraption, you had no choice but to endure the teasing.

He looked up at you the entire time, watching your reactions closely as he ran the tip of his tongue across your lips lazily. He was waiting for you to break, prompting a punishment the closer he got to your clit. But you were stubborn, unwilling to let him win this. You would behave and stay quiet like your life depended on it.

Bucky saw that and chose to grant you some mercy and he suddenly felt the urge to witness you climax from just his tongue alone. He watched your eyes screw shut the moment he latched his lips to your clit and sucked, running his flat tongue all over it a second later. Somewhere deep down he knew she should reprimand you, tell you to keep your eyes on him and not your own fantasies, but the sight was prettier than he had imagined. You looked better than any girl before you, had a richer taste, more exhilarating smell and feel, and were altogether breathtaking. He should have done this much sooner.

But you didn’t give him more time to contemplate, as you began to involuntarily fight against your restraint, bucking your hips for more friction where you craved it the most. You were close, that much was clear, and even though he wanted to torture you some more and deny you that pleasure, if you looked this already, he needed to know what you would look like orgasming.

You held it off for as long as you could. Then, you began to beg. “Please,” you whined, not caring about the consequence, “please, Bucky, please. I need to cum. Fuck, fuck, please let me cum.”

Bucky listened to your begging for a while longer, urging you on with two fingers against your g-spot and his tongue on your clit. Once your words turned into incoherent babbling, he knew it was time. “Come on, then, princess,” he said, voice still hard, “cum for me. Right now or you won’t cum at all.”

And you did. Finally being granted permission, you allowed yourself to let go, to let all that pent-up frustration wash over you in a tidal wave that shook you to the core. A string of broken curses left your lips with a volume that went silent against your own deaf ears. In all that haze, you even lifted the bar on your chest about an inch off the ground, pushing your hips further into Bucky’s hands. His ministrations kept going, keeping you going, and pulled every fraction of your orgasm from your body until you were reduced to a whimpering heap of heavy limbs.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky said, making his way back up your body. He ripped the weights off of you and effortlessly tossed them across the room. “Gonna fuck you now, baby.”

You whined in response, the only response you managed.

“What was that, princess?” he asked panting, right in front of your face, “think you can take me?”

When he had shoved down his pants and underwear, you had no idea, but suddenly, you felt the head of his cock against your thigh. You jumped in surprise. Bucky chuckled.

“Thought so.” But he angled himself against you anyway, before slowly pushing in. “Fuck,” he moaned instantly. Not even when you dared to thrust your hips against his did he intervene, instead he let it slide this one time. But you grew cocky, and did it again. You weren’t able to a third time, however, because Bucky wrapped the metal hand around your throat, using it as leverage to fuck into you all the way. “Feeling brave, are we?”

The growl in his voice did not fall to deaf ears. And deep down, you felt bad for not following orders but the feeling of finally getting fucked by Bucky Barnes was too great. “Please, I can’t wait anymore. Please I need it so bad.” His grip around your throat wasn’t tight enough for you to stay silent.

“I’m gonna have to teach you patience, princess,” he scoffed, “this won’t do.” But instead of making true to his word, he simply grabbed your hip harshly, angling them up towards his. The movement brought blissful friction against your g-spot, and you couldn’t contain the yelp. Bucky placed his flesh hand over you mouth, the metal one still around your neck. “Next time.”

With that, he began a brutal pace. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight, little slut.” The words were more growled that spoken, gritted teeth displaying how concentrated he was. Bucky was chasing his own pleasure above yours, partly as punishment, partly because he couldn’t help it. But you wouldn’t complain with the way his thrusts hit all the right spots anyway.

The urge to scream his name was there, but all that came out was a muffled whine. Bucky leant down, smirking. “Huh? You trying to say something? Too bad.” His hips only moved faster, harder, and you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to cum all over his cock.

He lifted you, balancing you on his thighs as he used your hips for leverage. You could feel your skin getting caught between the plates of his metal hand. Bucky watched your jaw fall slack and eyes screw shut.

“You better keep looking at me, princess,” he hissed between his gritted teeth, “and don’t you dare make a sound.”

That was easier said than done. With the way he was making you feel so fucking good, they way he spoke, you developed a kink for his voice right there and then. The whines with every breath you took were much harder to hold back. When Bucky grew tired of it, he tore off his own shirt only to shove it between your teeth. “Shut up.”

His strong scent engulfed you instantly, and you could clearly discern a mix of his deodorant and sweat from working out. It was relentlessly filthy but this close to edge, it wouldn’t matter what he forced on you, it would turn you on. Embarrassingly enough, a long moan could be heard even through the soaked fabric in your mouth when Bucky rubbed his thumb all over your clit.

“You need to cum, don’t you, princess?” he asked, also slightly breathless by now.

You nodded harshly, desperate to be good for him, to silently beg for him as much as you could. And he chose to be merciful.

The nod came before his words. “Do it.” His voice held a strained grumble. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you cum all over my cock. Cum like the good whore that you are.”

And, fuck, you did. The second orgasm was completely different from the first. That one would have pulled your legs from beneath you had you been standing, rolling over you in a blissful wave. This one tightened all your muscled simultaneously, a slow-motion tingle in every corner of your nerves. You arched your back, shuddering your hips in his hold for even more friction. The scream was only silenced by his shirt, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you were grateful for it.

Bucky felt your walls clench around his girth as he continued to fuck you in deep, harsh thrusts that only spurred your orgasm on further. “Fuck,” was all he said, groaning in bliss as he watched you cum, all for him.

It didn’t take long for him to follow you down the rabbit hole. His hips faltered as he struggled to keep up the reckless rhythm. “Fuck, princess.” Bucky was close, that much was evident in his heated stare. “Look at me, slut” he said, “look at me when I cum inside you.”

You obliged, because it was all you were left to handle. Only him.

“Want me to fill you up?” he asked, voice hoarse, “mark you as mine?” Your frantic nods were all he needed. His gaze was glued to yours, and you kept your eyes unblinking, unwilling to miss even one second of his orgasm. And it was worth it. His hair matted to his forehead, a deep focused crease between his brows, his hands in an unwavering grip around your hips, he stopped just barely, and you felt him shoot his load. He began thrusting again moments after, riding out his orgasm. If he made any noise, you were unaware, you hardly heard a thing over your own ringing ears.

The mixture of his cum and yours oozed out of you the moment he pulled out, and you were ready to feel ashamed about it, but Bucky gathered your legs straight up in the air with one hand, leaning down to lick up every trace of the mess you had made. It was, while filthy beyond belief, also insanely hot.

You accidentally let out a surprised whine. Bucky responded with an almost playful slap to your thigh while keeping his mouth on your pussy. The shock and your remaining sensitivity made you jump from the impact, shutting you up in the process.

“Thought so,” Bucky mumbled against your skin. Once he was done cleaning up as much as he could, which only were a few more seconds, he gently placed your feet on the mat. Careful not to touch you, he moved to lie beside you, one arm propping up his head, the other pulling out the soaked shirt.

You felt his cool metal fingers brush away small strands of hair, and watched him curiously.

“How are you doing?” he asked, voice still slightly hoarse but having lost that mean tilt.

“Good,” you whispered, “you?”

Bucky nodded. “Same.” He paused. “Was that too much?”

You nodded instantly without really thinking it through, but when Bucky took another moment to answer, you realized it was the truth.

“I know you weren’t expecting it.”

“It’s okay,” you said, “I really liked what you did.”

At that, he offered you a toothy grin. “Yeah? Maybe we should repeat it sometime.”

Before you could move to agree, you heard Tony’s voice over the speakers. “Look, I’m glad you guys finally bumped uglies,” he said, voice obviously annoyed, “but I’d appreciate it if the entire compound wouldn’t be part of it next time, yeah? Barnes, we talked about this. The gym is a public space and not your personal fuck room.” There was a click in the speakers which told you that Tony was done, but you were too occupied with staring at Bucky in shock.

“What? I told you to keep quiet.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?”

Grinning his cocky grin, Bucky rolled back on top of you. “I’ll show you­–“ But he wouldn’t finish that sentence.

“Guys! Get a fucking room!”

::::::::::

‘Everything’ Tags: @alphaabucky​ @badassbaker @brieannakeogh @buckysmusculararm @captnbarnesrogers @courtneychicken @guccicloudz @diinofayce @hellomissmabel @hiddles-rose @iamwarrenspeace @imrisaluk @jjbarnesgirl @Julliiaaq @justanotherbuckydevotee @kimcarcrashin @letaliabane @lovely-garbage @paisl20y @palaiasaurus64 @partlybcrnes @rebelfleur22 @silverwolf7850  @sunnyandtwisty @taliarosej00 @teacher-crushed @the-red-world-of-jess-chibi @thevanishedillusion @thelostallycat @xcrawlerwood @iscasahufflepuff​

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‘Smutty’ Tags: @bandbooktvaddict @bonky-bornes @letaliabane​

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[youare-mysonshine]

pobre diabla || oscar diaz

(gif is not mine. credit to owner♥️)

Summary: Reader gets scared of Oscar and reveals that she had a bad past relationship.

Requested: yes!

request for a fic on how spooky would react if reader got scared of him like maybe she had a bad past relationship and like he didn’t know about it but like he scared her, not on purpose and instantly regretted everything, apologizing and backing away like i never meant to scare you

Pairing: Oscar Diaz x Reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of an abusive relationship, angst, fluff at the end.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: hello all. this is a request I’ve had for a long ass time. To whoever requested, I’m sorry it took this long. Something short, angsty and then sweet. Enjoy. like with part 6 of que malo, please take caution when reading!

—————

“He’s your brother, Oscar! He’s your brother and you’re not even gonna let him come back? This gang means more to you than him? Your flesh and blood?”

What a great way to ring in the new year, huh? Having a fight with your boyfriend over the fact that he’d kicked his little brother out and refused to let him back in.

You and Oscar had been dating for a few months. You’d met shortly after he’d gotten out of prison and you had instantly hit it off with him. Initially, you had been skeptical about starting a relationship with Oscar because your previous relationship hadn’t been the.. best. It had been scarring. Physically, emotionally, mentally. So when you and Oscar started hanging out and talking, part of you was afraid of opening yourself up to someone like that again only to be hurt. Especially given the fact that he was in a gang.

But over the course of your relationship, he’d never given you a reason to be afraid of him. He always kept the gang stuff away from you, making sure you were never involved. Oscar knew the dangers of being with someone like him and he always made sure to keep you protected and safe. And besides that, you’d learned things about him that many people didn’t know. You saw a side of him that he didn’t let most people see. That goofy, funny side.

The Oscar that would make fun of you for burning the food. The Oscar that would sometimes sing in the shower (which you loved because he really did have a nice singing voice). The Oscar that would always make sure his little brother was good, putting his needs before his own.

Which is why you couldn’t understand why when Cesar had shown up at the house begging Oscar to take him back, he refused. He kicked him to the curb, turned him away.

You’d heard about what happened at Olivia’s quince - her death, Ruby being shot. Oscar and the other Santos beating Cesar bloody, Oscar kicking him out. That was really when your relationship had become strained. Maybe you were naive when it came to the gang, but you couldn’t wrap your head around it. You’d been inside the house when you heard Oscar’s loud, deep voice yell. And when you peeked out from behind the curtain, you saw Oscar pushing his little brother. The look on Cesar’s face absolutely broke your heart. Then hearing and seeing all the other Santos bark at the young Diaz as he walked away fueled your anger. As soon as Oscar had come in the house, you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Which led to you heatedly staring each other down in the living room.

“You don’t understand, Y/N. I didn’t have a choice. Cuchillos didn’t give me a choice-“

“Fuck Cuchillos! He’s your little brother, Oscar. He has nowhere to go. Those Prophets are still after him. What happens if they find him? They’re gonna kill him. All this because he couldn’t kill someone?”

“And look what happened! Olivia died, Ruby got shot! All because of his mistake! He knew what he had to do and he didn’t do it. That’s on him!”

“Bullshit, Oscar! That’s bullshit. You put that on him. He is a fourteen year old boy! Did you really expect him to just go and kill Latrelle? He’s not you, Oscar!” You spat, your heart rate beating rapidly in your chest from sheer anger. Oscar felt similarly, lips pulled back in a snarl, brows furrowed. This was probably the worst fight that the two of you had ever gotten into. You’d gotten into little arguments here and there before, but it was never anything like this. Never full blown yelling or glaring at each other so hard that both of you would’ve been six feet under if looks could kill.

“You know what? I don’t need this shit.” Oscar had turned around, going to leave but you kept going.

“Does the gang mean that much more to you than your baby brother? The baby brother that you raised? What are you gonna if one day a cop shows up and tells you that he’s dead because a Prophet got to hi-“

“I said enough!” In the blink of an eye, Oscar had spun around. “I don’t have a choice, and if you can’t understand that, then you can pack your shit and get out-“ His lifted his arm and you flinched, cowering away. In that moment, you weren’t looking at Oscar. It wasn’t your boyfriend that was standing in front of you. No.. it was your past abuser. The man that had swore he loved you but then turned around and smacked you around, talked down to you like you were nothing but a piece of garbage.

In that moment, panic filled you and all you could see were flashbacks, images of your ex-boyfriend. The look in his eyes, the anger on his face, before he’d mistreat you. All you could think of and hear in your head were the sounds of his hand making contact with your skin, the sounds of his harsh words and insults being thrown your way.

“I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry..” Was all you could say as you screwed your eyes shut, almost as if you were bracing, expecting, the impact of his palm against your cheek.

Oscar was stunned. Frozen in place. The anger he felt had dissipated in him. Vanished quicker than lightening and all that was left in it’s wake was hurt. His face faltered.. You’d flinched away from him. You thought he was going to hit you. When all he’d done was lift his hand to motion over to the hallway where your shared bedroom was.

“Y/N.. I.. I wasn’t gonna hit you..” Regret filled his entire body. The anger that was once taken hold of that room had gone right out the window, all that was was two horrified lovers. You opened your eyes, tears wetting your bottom lash line, and you were met with the sight of Oscar looking at you with hurt and regret all over his face. “Bebe.. I’m.. I’m sorry, I.. I wasn’t going to hit you. Tu sabes que nunca haria eso..” Oscar backed away from you, and the look on his face absolutely brushed your entire soul. You hadn’t meant to flinch. It was almost like an involuntary reaction. Oscar had never given you a reason to be scared of him, but in that moment, your mind had flashed back to your ex-boyfriend and you felt that same fear you always felt when you were with him.

“Oscar.. I’m sorry. I.. I know, I know that you’d never hit me.. I just..” You paused, taking in a deep breath, hoping to calm your erratic heart. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You walked over to the couch and took a seat, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just.. I don’t know why, when you raised your hand like that I.. it was like I was looking at my ex-boyfriend. I had like this flashback.”

“What?”

“I’ve never told you before because I kinda always wanted to put it past me. And I just don’t like talking about it because it’s not easy to talk about..” You lifted your head, wiping away the tear that had fallen down your cheek. “Before I met you, I was dating this guy. He was great, funny, charming. It was enough for me to overlook the red flags. He’d always make little rude comments to me, he’d tell me what to wear, who I could and couldn’t hang out with. He’d look through my phone. That was just the start. Then it got physical. It started with little things - he’d push me, grab me hard enough to leave bruises.. and then he actually hit me. It started with a slap and escalated to something more.. I finally left him when I had to go to the hospital for injuries he caused.”

Oscar was once more stunned in silence. You were undoubtedly once of the strongest women he’s ever met and know he knew why. But he couldn’t deny the anger and the horror bubbling beneath his skin. But beside that, the hurt he felt was also there. The fact that he’d reminded you of your abuser, the fact that you’d been scared of him for even a brief moment, that you were scared he’d hit you - it killed him. It crushed his heart into a thousand pieces. “Mamas..” The Santo walked over hesitantly, kneeling down in front of you. He lifted a hesitant hand to you, touching your face, cradling your cheek softly as if he were handling a fragile china doll. To his relief, you didn’t flinch away from him. No, you leaned into his touch because his touch was familiar and it was good and you craved it.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft. Deep but soft. Calmness washed over you. “I’m fuckin’ sorry that happened to you.” The images of someone who you loved and trusted hurting you in such a horrific way flashed through his mind and you could make out that barely concealed anger in his eyes. “I’d kill the puto with my bare hands if I ever saw him.” He spoke. “But you need to know that I’d never hurt you like that. Nunca. Tu eres mi vida. Me moriría para ti.” His words caused a flurry of butterflies in your stomach to go wild. “I’d die before I hurt you like that, before I let anyone hurt you like that again. I’m sorry for scaring you, baby. I never meant to. We may fight and argue but I never want you to be afraid of me. Never me.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for not telling you about this before. And I’m sorry for what I said to you about Cesar-“ Oscar leaned forward and silenced you with a deep, kiss. You immediately melted into it, you hands coming to rest upon his shoulders, fiddling the fabric of the flannel that he wore. If his words hadn’t reassured that you had no reason to be afraid of him, than it was his kiss that sure had. The way he kissed you so softly, yet so deeply. So sweetly yet so passionately. It was everything.

“I know. I’m sorry for what I said too . For yelling.” He muttered as he pulled away, resting his forehead upon your own. “I’ll figure something out, okay? I know he’s my baby brother and I hate that he’s out there too.”

You leaned forward and pressed another, short, kiss to his lips.

“We’ll figure something out. Me and you.”

—————

tagging: @spookysmujer @ugh-jalynn @lovleyajoitee @curly-haired-holland @babienay @harringtoncastle @spookysnena @eggshaustedd @firebenderwolf @clemmingstylins0n @xiomarlyn @lana-loves-stuff @dolanackles @briskiiat420 @lossantosprincesa @princesstiffxoxo @xbrujababyx @juul4jesus @audreydiane96 @angelreyesgirl100 @khiaraaa-in-spacee @poppaxannie @deviilbby @mrs-spookyd1az @eriksjournal @socialistavocado @pananegra @demure-doll @skathan-omaha @kingbouji3 @animesstuffsposts @moanlightbaby @thenameishayley248 @cheshirecat107 @bellaguarneri @liaari @cedricheart @amethyst09 @flamingweasley @littlxmiss @mellisophilia @fairygardenss @sadeyesbabymama

[minthysugamon]

Why'd you only call me when you're high? (J.JK x Reader)

Drummer! Jungkook x Manager's daughter! Reader.

Warnings: Mentions of sex,drugs and alcohol. Usage of foul language (like in most of my writings bc i talk like a roadman). Friends with benefits type of relationship. Kinda angsty but also fluffy if you search for the fluff with a magnifying glass.

Word count: 2222 (hehe,angel number go brr)

A/N: I promise,i will try to do some smut but i don't feel comfy enough to write it bc idk...i just cringe when i see my writing. So sorry if it isn't what you guys expect...

3:03 am

Your phone buzzed once again. It was for the 6th time tonight in a row,so even without looking at the device,it was safe to assume that the rockstar your dad managed was probably at some pub,hammered and not even being able to call a cab for himself so he called your number. Like usual. 3:04 am. It rang again. "What? It better be an emergency cause i swear to god if you're calling because you're dru-" his laugh was as intoxicating as the liquor he had sipped on some minutes ago. "Doll,listen...i need a ride...and since your dad is our manager,it would be greatly appreciated if you came for me..." a sigh left your lips as you hang up on him.

But Jungkook didn't stop pestering you. The drummer of V2J was a pain in the ass. As shy and awkward he was in his sober times,his horndog behaviour was equalising if not surpassing his normal behaviour when he was thrashed.

You picked up the call one more time when the familiar ringtone went off. "Hey,why are you so rude,dollface? Don't you know hangin-" your words cut off his as soon as he was trying to do his monologue. "Jungkook. Like how you said it so cleverly,MY DAD is the manager. Not me. Pester him at 3 am if you have some difficulties to go home,not his daughter. Thank you. I have an exam in two days, i have to study tomorrow. Or today because at this point of the night i can't say tomorrow,so let me get the 2 hours of sleep i could still get tonight if i go to sleep in less than 10 minutes.. Leave me alone. Call Taehyung or something,i don't care. Now please don't call me again. Thanks." Then the tune of the "Hang Up" option resonated in your room once again.

Truth be told, if it would've been the first time he calls you and asks you for help at 3 in the morning,you would've helped his dumbass out,but it wasn't the case. Whenever Jungkook had some nightly problems, you were the first target in his contact list. It wasn't the first time he called you to pick him up from somewhere or to let him stay at your place for the night because he lost his keys to his appartment after a wild escapade with his bandmates to the nearest club. And it never ended with him only sleeping on your couch. It usually started at the front door and ended with him sleeping an arm around you after fucking your brains out. If he had been serious about this whole weird relationship you had, it would've been official for more than a year now,but he has to keep his rockstar persona intact. So of course,you were nothing more than the daughter of his manager who was good enough to be fucked when he was drunk or high.

At 3:36,someone rang at the interphone of your home. When you got up from your bed with a huff,you were already seeing the tatted up boy's smirk on the camera in a mental image. And you weren't wrong. His smirk was present as soon as the little screen had lit up with his face so close to it,you though he was a toddler seeing an interphone for the first time in his life. "You really came here at 3 and a half? Jeon,for fucks sake. If i get down there,i'mma beat some sense into you,so you better start running now." He simply laughed,a noise of exasperation leaving his throat. "Aw...come on (Y/n)...let me in,i lost my keys..."

You pushed on the key button,you let him in again. At this point it was exthausing because you knew what this meant. And even if you wanted to deny it,your brain wanted this to stop,but your heart was yearning for him. "I swear to god Jungkook,if you come here again at 3 am,i will stick a pipe up your ass." You unlocked the door for him and let him enter your home.

Fatal mistake because he didn't even answer,he simply pushed you against the wall and looked into your eyes,foreheads touching. "And why would you do that sweetheart? Hm? I thought you liked when i come here...for you." You can't deny it,you fell for him over the months,you fell for this idiot who liked banana milk more than anything else,who drank whisky with more cola than he should because he hated alcohol but wanted to keep his bad boy persona. But the smell of a woman on him made your heart sink. "Jungkook,please...just go and take of your shoes,i will bring you a blanket and a pillow so you can sleep on the couch."

He took your words in a hurtful way,his expression changed from flirty to genuinely hurt. "So...we aren't sleeping together like always?" You scoffed and got out of his grip. "I don't even know why i let you in. If you wanted to get your dick sucked again,you could've called one of your groupies." You disappeared in your room to search for a blanket and pillow,not that you deemed him deserving of such comfort,but he was also keen to be shivering at night without a blanket so it would be better for him to get some warmth during the dark hours. With a shaky breath,you went back to the living room and placed the pillow and comforter on the couch. "(Y/n)...what's the matter?" No answer. You didn't want to answer his question,he wasn't worthy for an answer,but his insistance was made clear when he took your hand into his and brought you closer to him. "Please...(Y/n)...answer me,i'm getting worried at this point,what's the matter?" Inhaling some fresh oxygen as the lump in your throat was only getting tighter,it finally dawned on you. You were in love with him. "Why'd you only call me when you're high?" The tears started to sting in your eyes,the drummer looked at you with a questioning expression. "High? What do you mean?" "Why'd you only call me and come here when your high?" After repeating your previous question,your voice cracked and all tears were let to flow down on your cheeks. "What? (Y/n) i really don't understand what you're talking about." "Why are you only showing interest in me when you're drunk and need to empty your balls. Is it more clear like that?" Jungkook's heart cracked at the sight of you crying because of him. He didn't want you to fall for him,not when he's at the peak of his career,but it would be a lie to say he didn't feel something for you.

"(Y/n)...come on,you know i can't be with someone. I thought that we both made this clear." His tattoed arms were still securely wrapped around you,stroking your back in the hopes of the action giving you some comfort,but as soon as you looked up to him with teary eyes,he couldn't help but let his waterworks flow too. Truth be told,Jungkook hated to see you sad,as awkward as the situation was right now,he hated seeing the one he fell for sad. "No,you made it clear for yourself. You're always acting nice with me,always closing any distance we had between us...no matter how hard i try to stay away from you,you suffocate me...if it was with hatred,it would be better,but it isn't. You're always here to fuck me up then rebuild me once you're sober. I fucking hate you for making me fall for you but i hate myself more for letting myself fall for you."

Your words were stinging. Even poisonous to his ears. Did you really hate him? And as much as it hurt him,it hurt you the same. You never really saw someone else in the hopes of being his one day,you won't blame it on him because you were the one in control of your own life,but every step you declined from someone else was to aliment the hope of being his one day. "I'm sorry...(Y/n)...i...i know you like me...but it won't work out. I do see you as more than just a friend with benefits,i do like you too...but...i can't be with you when i don't even know what tomorrow is made of." You tried to get out of his grip,but it only tightened and he brought your chin up with two fingers. "Listen,don't think i don't like you...if i didn't..you wouldn't be the first one i call to help me,fuck,i know i sound like an asshole for saying this but i do like you...i just..." he was getting ridiculous at this point and he knew it. "You just what? You don't want to miss out on someone else. I get it. You want your target list to be finished then crawl back to me when you're done."  "(Y/n) it's not like tha-" you finally got out of his grip. "No. Don't say anything. I get it. But i won't be a second choice to anyone. Let alone you. Good night." You quickly wiped your tears away and went to your room,closing the door behind yourself,leaving Jungkook alone,in the dark living room.

He was tossing and turning for more than an hour now. You could hear it from your room how he was walking up and down the hall. 'I really fucked up.' he thought to himself and he wasn't wrong. You were probably the only person who would really go to hell and back for him and you were the only person he would do the same for. Then why was he acting like an asshole towards you now? Now that he was sure of your feelings,why did he have to break everything he tried to build? It couldn't end like that.

He softly knocked on your door,even if you told him to go away,he opened the door and lied down next to you,taking your body in his arms,nuzzling his face into the skin of your neck. "I'm sorry..." his soft lips placed a kiss on your neck and hands grabbed yours. "Sorry for what? For at least telling me the truth?" "(Y/n)...it's not like that...i just don't want to fuck things up. I prefer to fuck it up now than once we're together. I...i do love you...i heard the bells and the fireworks as soon as i saw you...but i don't want to fuck this up. Simply because i know how fans are,how groupies are. I prefer you seeing my fuckboy image than the real me,as much as i hate it though." You turned around,facing him,still in his clutch. "Well too late dumbass,i fell for the awkward and nice you,the one i see during studio hours,during practice,not this...whole flirty fuckboy persona that i get to see at every thursday at 3 am." He inhaled then kissed your forehead,bringing you closer to him. "It's too late for me to ask you to be my girlfriend...right? I don't want things to end...and,if the only way for me to stay with you is to put that image aside,i'm willing to do it."  You sighed. He was still in the wrong. You didn't want him to change for you,but for him. To be himself again. "Jungkook,you don't understand...i want you to be you. I don't want you to rush into things because you don't want to lose me. Plus,you might not like a relationship,so if you don't want one right now,then leave me alone and don't make me fall for you more."

He shut you up before you could go on your monologue with a kiss. Not a rushed one like usually. But a soft one. One that tasted like cigarettes,monster,alcohol and love. "I love you...and starting a relationship now...or in 5 years...it won't change shit...no matter what i think now. I...after thinking about it...what you said...you're right. If i don't jump in right now...what will it change in 2 or 5 years? Nothing...i will still be the same if i don't change now." His frown turned into a small smile when he felt your nose in his neck,a light peck on his skin and your hands on his back. "So...you really want to start something with me...out of love and not out of pity?" He smacked the back of your head,out of habit but also out of outrage,he didn't want you to think he was doing this out of pity. "You dumbass,i want to be with you. I really want to. Out of love. Not because i pity you. You are probably the only person who would accept my headassery...and i love you. So please...don't ever think i would do this brcause of pity." You simply laughed,still sniffing a little bit and cupped his cheeks. "Good,because...i love you too." He kissed you first,again. Now with more passion though. His hands roaming around your back and ribcage,then on your waist,he couldn't help but pull you closer,until it couldn't be done anymore. "I know you do...now...shouldn't we sleep..? Because it's half past five...and you have to wake up at 10 so you can study..." You kissed his neck once more then placed your head on his chest. "It's already almost 6..might as well watch some cartoons and eat breakfast,no?" Jungkook's face lit up like a child's at the candy store. "Now i know why i heard the bells and the fireworks when i saw you."

I hope you guys enjoyed this,i kinda made it longer than most of my writings,but i still hope it's okay!

My requests are always open,so please,if you have something to request,i am more than happy to do it!

[amethystpath-writes]

Okay so this isn’t my original idea but remember that one post where it was like one soulmate is killing their other soulmate to stay immortal but their soulmate keeps on being reborn or just doesn’t stay dead for long??

If that’s too confusing basically can you do a continuation of your own prompt there the villain is the immortal, not the hero. (Prompt 41?44? I don’t remember oops)

I don't think I know that post, but if you still want me to write it and you can find it, feel free to send another ask! For now, I'll just fill the prompt!

******

“But- but I killed you.” Hero swore he couldn’t breathe. Villain wasn’t supposed to be in front of him right now. He- he was supposed to be in the morgue or wherever they kept and processed dead bodies. He was supposed to be dead. This had to be some kind of trick. Maybe there was a part of Hero’s mind that felt guilty for killing Villain, and now he was hallucinating. “I watched you die. I- I checked your pulse. You’re dead.”

Villain huffed and rolled his eyes. “Why is this always such a surprise to everyone?” He took two steps forward, watching with boredom as Hero flinched back, shielding his eyes. “You need me to pinch you? Convince you I’m right in front of you?”

“Not real,” Hero muttered. “Not real, not real, not. real. It’s in my head. It’s just in my head.”

Tossing his head back, Villain sighed. “Most of your little crew in the past at least tried to swing at me, finish the job. Some of them actually achieved killing me for a second time. I was impressed! Much more exciting than what you’re doing right now.” Hero kept muttering. Villain asked, “You really think you’re imagining me still? What’s it gonna take? Do I need to jab you in the gut? Would that help?”

Maybe I’d deserve that, Hero thought, continuing to consider the concept of guilt. What Hero was really curious about right now was, How is this so real? He acknowledged it was all fake, but he didn’t think his brain was capable of creating such a realistic version of Villain. The look, the voice, the condescending tone, everything was drawn up to a T. It shouldn’t have been possible, especially after a whole week of Villain’s death.

“Alright, this is getting old. I want to try something new since I haven’t had this reaction before. You really shouldn’t be a hero if you go into shock this easily.”

The image in front of Hero was moving closer. Villain was pulling something out from behind him. Hero already knew what it would be; Villain always kept handheld weapons back there in case his powers- whatever those were, Hero never knew- were unsuccessful. Usually it was throwing knives. This time it- Hero swallowed.

“You remember this. Good.” Villain nodded. “I figured you would, given how you stabbed me with it- rude.”

Now Hero had the sense to stand from his seated and shaking position. As a change, he was now in a standing and shaking position. This was becoming real to him- too real.

“Okay. What I’m thinking is that I clean this blade- a very pretty one by the way; love the chromatic look…I’m going to go over to that sink, and I’m going to clean this.” Villain made his way to Hero’s kitchen, turning on the sink like he said he would. He began scrubbing with the pad of his thumb. “I have two reasons for this: one, there are other victims’ blood on it now- from the morgue; they were about to cremate me if you can believe it. Props to you; that was my first time ever being in one of those places. And, two, because I want this to play out for you as it did for me- it was clean before you stabbed me with it; it should be clean before I stab you with it.” Villain turned with the blade now clear of any blood.

Hero couldn’t move, but he didn’t need to, did he? Because this was all his imagination, all his guilty conscious. Nothing else.

“You aren’t going to do anything to protect yourself,” Villain observed aloud. “You’re just going to stand there shaking like a rotting leaf stuck in a tree during October. Fine, then. Might as well take this to my advantage.”

**

Unable to move or think for himself, Hero was easily taken by Villain. All the while, Hero continued to believe this was a hallucination. Villain absolutely could not be alive because that meant- that meant he could…No. Villain can’t- can’t come back to life.

Hero knew for a fact he killed Villain. When he bled out, Hero listened to the silence of his opponent’s chest, watched its stillness. He. Was. Dead. It was that solidity in Hero’s mind that made him deny the obvious fact in front of him. Because it was impossible to become…undead. It just wasn’t possible. And since it was impossible, the person standing in front of Hero, talking to someone or something else in the room was fake- was a ghost in Hero’s head.

“-tired of this game. It’s becoming boring, but I found some entertainment for myself, and I think it can become a lesson to you. See…”

A red light was in front of Hero’s face. He looked, blinking slowly, beyond the red light to Villain. Hero didn’t quite understand where he was, or what his mind was conjuring up at the moment. He felt so tired because of his current insanity, and so it didn’t matter much what his location was.

“I think this can serve as a lesson to you- not that I care to help you, but it gives me an excuse to torture a poor soul.”

Hero blinked again. The red light belonged to a camera, he realized. Villain- or Ghost Villain- was recording him and talking to whoever was watching on the camera. In all reality, Hero figured it was he who was recording himself. Maybe he was even talking- he didn’t know. He was likely telling his base leader about how he was losing his mind and thought he was in a cellar-like room with Villain.

“I’m going to screw this back on the tripod, and then, I’ll show you what happens when you guys keep sending your men to kill me. It doesn’t work, alright? And I’m tired of dying.”

The chromatic knife was lowered in front of Hero’s eyes. He didn’t startle at it, but, as it was lowered out of his vision and Villain’s amused grin replaced it, he felt worry. Worry turned to searing pain in Hero’s leg and he let out a blood-curdling scream, grasping at the cold ground, fingers curling into fists that grasped onto nothing. The same pain magnified again as the knife came into sight once again- this time half coloured with red.

It’s real, it dawned on Hero as he finally looked down to find a hole in his leg. “A-augh!” It was throbbing and he swore he could feel his blood pulsing out of the wound. His stomach twisted with his pain and he turned to his right as to not throw up on himself.

What made the pain in Hero’s leg worse was the fact that his muscles were clenched. He couldn’t relax them no matter how hard he tried and that only meant the throb was everlasting.

The knife made its strike again- this time down the arm opposite of Hero’s now-injured leg. He hollered again, writhing and crying in anguish. “Stop! Stop it!” Quieter, he repeated to himself, “It hurts. It hurts, it hurts.”

For once his body protested as he eyed Villain in front of him. His good leg twitched like it was ready to assist in springing on and tackling Villain to the ground. But the controlled side of Hero’s mind told him it’d only make him hurt worse. Not to mention, he might land on the blade and therefore kill himself. Wait. “You’re- you’re going t-to kill…kill me.”

Villain paused, tilting his head almost curiously at Hero. “That was the plan originally, but then you fell to cowardice, and that was boring.” As he spoke, Hero could feel his limbs jumping, spasming. “So, now we’re doing something else. Kinda like it, actually. Centuries have gone by, and I never actually took my time with any of you. For once, I am seeing the true and utter fear I felt when I died for my first time.” Villain continued, “I could have been such a great person, you know? I would have been a perfect good guy, unable to die and all. But instead of seeing that vision, I was seen as a threat to humanity. They began hunting me, trying to figure out how to put me down for good. I decided to fit their little role, though.”

What Villain did and said next shocked Hero. “Go on, try it.” Villain held the blade handle out to Hero on the ground. “Take it. I’ll let you kill me again, and then you can leave.”

“You’re lying. That’s- that’s a stupid th-thing to- to offer. Why would you l-let me kuh-kill you, then let- let me go?”

Villain shrugged. “Something new. I want to live something different this time. I told you many times that few have killed me twice- and the ones who did it were killed as soon as I could find them. I want to see how far you can go if I give you a month’s head start.”

“You- you want to hunt me.”

“I do. Seeing as you did it to me, I think it’s fair.” He jutted the handle out to Hero again as an offer. When Hero took it, Villain said, “I know I took out your dominant arm out, but- well, I have confidence you’ll do just fine if it means you get to kill me again.” Villain tapped at his chest, right where his heart was located. “Go on. I know you want to.”

Hero considered this for a moment, staring at the knife- at the knife with his blood on it now instead of Villain’s. Did he ever question why his organization was going after Villain? Not really. He just knew Villain murdered every single man Leader sent out. Maybe it was self-defence, in which case Hero shouldn’t have been going after Villain like he was, shouldn’t have killed him like he already did once and was being given the opportunity to once again.

But now was different. Now, Villain really was sadistic- assuming he wasn’t before. Villain, if he was any sort of a healthy and sane man, would have had Hero jailed for trying, and succeeding, in killing him. Or, if he was afraid of the authorities taking him in for being- ahem- unkillable, then he would have only kept Hero locked up. Villain wouldn’t have had Hero in a cellar room, stabbing and slashing at him while a camera recorded it all. If Villain ever was good, that morality was stripped from him now, and that meant Hero needed to take this chance at life. Maybe he could go back to his base and demand answers. Because based off what Villain told, they knew he was immortal, and they never told Hero- or Hero’s previous teammates, who were now ‘mysteriously’ dead.

Without another word, or even a warning glance, Hero weighed the knife in his left hand, gripped the handle, and slashed at Villain’s throat. As he laid dying, Hero searched for the key on Villain’s person, and left.