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ugh-yoongi · 8 months

Note

Jess' B-Day Hobi request:

Hobi x Reader - Amusement park date. Maybe cute and sexy, like reader feels bad for making him go on a particularly scary ride, so she blows him?

HAPPY BDAY JESS!! 🎉🎉🎉💜💜💜

this is so dfljlgdlkjgf. everyone please pray for hobi he really needs it.

swallow your pride

pairing: hoseok x reader genre: est. relationship au, pwp; smut warnings: this is mostly just porn, so — a handjob, oral sex (m. receiving which i'm sure you could've guessed), come swallowing, very slight overstimulation. use of pet names. i apologize for the extremely on-the-nose title but it had to be done. no pronouns used for reader. unedited. rating: explicit. minors do not interact. wordcount: 1k

You’ve barely crossed the threshold into your hotel room.

Perhaps naively, you’d thought it’d be fun. Thought you’d go on and laugh and grab on to one another and buy the mortifyingly ugly photo at the end. Add it to the stack of all the other mortifyingly ugly photos you’ve collected after years of dragging Hoseok on roller coasters he otherwise wouldn’t go within two-hundred feet of.

Clearly you’d thought wrong.

“I almost died—”

You sigh, pushing Hoseok far enough into the room to close the door. “It was Space Mountain, babe.”

He scoffs. Looks really affronted, offended that you think it so impossible that he could’ve died on Space Mountain. Which just isn’t true. He very well could’ve died—it was very dark and had a lot of sharp turns, not to mention he was a previously undiscovered shade of green by the time it was over.

Not to mention the photo.

Hoseok knew it’d be bad. Knew he hadn’t ridden a second of that roller coaster without the ugliest, most fear-stricken look on his face, and all he could do was try to cash in whatever good karma he had left that it wouldn’t be that bad.

And you—you’d waited for it to pop up on the monitor with the most wicked grin he’s ever seen you wear. So sinister it’d rapidly diminished any hope he’d managed to conjure up. Stuck out your credit card to buy it before he even had a chance to beg.

“That’s not—w-what are you doing?”

What you’re doing is planting both of your hands on his chest to push him onto the bed, rolling your lips to keep from laughing when his knees hit the edge and he tips backwards, overpriced Mickey ears falling off and bouncing to the floor.

What you’re doing is dropping to your knees in front of him, nudging his legs apart to kneel between them. Hoseok’s breath catches in his throat when you start to undo his belt, and it’s instinct, the way he sinks into the mattress, busies his hands in the sheets. Knows to keep them to himself.

What you’re doing is—“Blowing you,” you answer. “That alright?”

“Uh-huh,” comes his automatic response. “Yup. Per-perfectly fine.”

What you’re doing is unbuttoning his jeans and dragging the zipper down, sly smile on your face, tongue pressing into the fat of your cheek, as it strains over his erection. What you’re doing is pushing the denim down to his knees, ghosting your nails along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, delighting in every small gasp that makes it past his lips.

There’s a way Hoseok likes to get sucked off, and it’s almost never like this. Hoseok has never shied away from his neuroticism, and that innate need of his to be in control bleeds into every aspect of his life, including here, so maybe you shouldn’t be, but you’re surprised at how pliant he is beneath you. How subdued. Surprised that his hands are still gripping the sheets and not the back of your head. Surprised that his hips are staying level to the mattress, that his mouth isn’t running a mile a minute.

“You’re being awfully behaved,” you note, eyebrow quirking in question.

He blinks, head lolling forward to ask, “You gonna try to dom me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” you retort, taking his cock in your hand. He’s already so, so hard, flushed and leaking precum. “I’m simply assuaging my guilt.”

Hoseok snorts at that. “Because I almost died?”

You spit in your hand, stroking him once, twice. There’s something about the way he shudders in your grasp. Makes you feel powerful, has a quiet whimper of your own slipping through your parted lips. All of it just serves to rile him up even more, his hips rolling in time with your wrist.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” you say, unable to help yourself; unable to keep the awe out of your voice.

And Hoseok, the cheeky fucker, preens. Closes his eyes and smiles up at the ceiling, not a hint of shame to be found. “What are the od—fuck—odds of you apologizing with your m-mouth?”

You pretend to think it over. “Hmm.” Lean in closer, your breath ghosting along all that sensitive skin. “Pretty high, I’d say.”

There’s another tart comment on the tip of Hoseok’s tongue, practically visible in the stale air of this hotel room, but it dissolves into nothing but a guttural groan once your lips are finally wrapped around him. Tapers into staccato whimpers as your throat constricts and you swallow. He’s still rolling his hips, fucking into your mouth, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the sheets tighter every time he hits the back of your throat.

Hoseok has never once denied himself of anything. This included.

Spit pools in the corners of your mouth, drips down your chin. Messy, just how he likes it, and there’s nothing more dizzying than Hoseok in the throes of pleasure. Nothing that drags you to the edge faster than watching him go mindless from the indulgence of it. Makes it nearly impossible to focus, but you want to unravel him all the way, want to be responsible for it, want to push him to the brink of overstimulation.

On you go.

It’s so much—your hollowed cheeks, the way you’re fisting at what doesn’t fit, the sounds both of you are making. Has his balls tightening, has him stuttering out your name in a pathetic little whine. Has him so disoriented that the first drop of cum hits your tongue before he can warn you.

“Fuck, fuck—baby I’m gonna, shit—”

He spills into your mouth with a cry, hands finally moving to the contours of your cheeks. And normally you’d take it easy on him, swallow and move up the bed to kiss him just as sloppy, sit on his face, but something about Hoseok in this moment has you feeling undone. Has you wanting to ruin him entirely.

So you keep going.

Hoseok’s eyes go wide. He panics, tries to pull you off, but you know him. Know he wouldn’t let you if he really didn’t want to, just needs a minute to push past the discomfort. You also know you’ll be paying for this later, after he’s come back down to earth, but you’re finding it hard to care.

After all, he almost died. You’ve got a lot to apologize for.

#hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts smut #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts x reader #hoseok imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfic #bts fanfic #fic: jess drabbles

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lovings4turn · 4 months

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☆ these are the days . . . (j.m.)

— a couple of days in the life with your boyfriend

+ title taken from 'these are the days' by inhaler.

+ just fluff. dividers from cafekitsune! and always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated

it's another friday night. though in any other city such an occasion calls for a big, crazy night out, stars hollow is not really that kind of town.

jess hangs his head from the edge of your bed, surveying the cds you're leafing through from his upside down position as you sit on the floor next to him. your cd collection in no way rivals that of lane - in fact, you don't think anyone's could - but you still pride yourself on just how extensive it is.

"that one," he hums, straining a little to nod his head in an appreciative gesture towards the 'elastica' album that currently sits in your hands.

wordlessly, you hold it out to him and admire the way his deep brown eyes narrow as he attempts to bring the upside-down cover into focus. anyone else would be surprised at the gentle way in which jess plucks it from your fingers, but jess is nothing but soft in all matters pertaining to you.

in all honesty, the thought that seemingly everyone in stars hollow apart from you see jess as some cold, harsh ‘teenage dirtbag’ is, quite frankly, hilarious. so much so, that you can't stop a small laugh from escaping your lips, a sound that jess instantly picks up on.

he turns away from the cd to look at you once more, treacle brown eyes obscured by the way he squints and furrows his brow in a silent question.

"something funny?" he questions, though there's fondness laced in every word.

"nothing, nothing," you placate, but jess knows you far too well for this schtick.

"yeah, right." his tone is sarcastic, but the crooked smile he shoots you reveals he's more amused than anything. “cracks in your floorboard tell you a joke or something?”

you knock his shoulder with your own, a gentle reprimand that you don’t even mean.

“just thinking,” you admit. “like, ‘s funny that everyone sees you as some sort of devil incarnate, yet here you are, staying in on a friday night to ransack my cd collection.”

“it’s not ransacking if you enabled it,” jess refutes, raising a thick eyebrow teasingly. “but if we’re talking theft, i believe you still have at least three of my books laying around here.”

an indignant laugh escapes your lips as you sit up straighter, but before you can protest, jess is pointing to various corners of your room.

“i spotted franny and zooey when i came in, y’have high fidelity resting on your desk, and i swear please kill me is still sitting in your bag.”

“touché,” you concede, knowing that jess was absolutely correct in his accusations. “i’ll make it up to you.”

jess perks up at this, turning to face you better. he’s still upside down, and you’re surprised he isn’t dizzy from all of the blood rushing to his head in this position, but you aren’t complaining.

you’ve studied jess countless times when he’s standing the right way up; here was an opportunity to admire him in a totally different perspective.

“yeah?” he asks.

his grin tugs the corner of his mouth up into a smile, as though it’s attached to a string with you, the puppeteer of his joy.

a hand comes to trace your cheek. it’s warm, loving. all you can do is nod before your lips meet his own. it’s a tad awkward, jess still hanging from your bed, but he manoeuvres his neck to ensure your kisses become seamless.

as your tongue slips between his parted lips, jess decides that the discomfort his neck will feel tomorrow will be more than worth it.

saturdays are reserved for the infamous diner rushes.

without you there, you’re sure that luke and jess would have killed each other ten times over today alone.

your vantage point at the register allows for you to remind jess to refill people’s coffees or take a table’s order. instead of stalling, like he does when it’s just him and luke, he goes without hesitation, wanting to be back to you as quick as possible.

luke learned not to comment on it. the first time he’d bore witness to jess refilling kirk’s coffee the moment you’d asked him to, he’d made some witty remark about jess being wrapped around your finger.

jess had stubbornly refused to refill any more coffee cups that day in protest.

currently, he’s standing at the counter with you, watching you doodle onto his order note-pad. though luke keeps shoving plates into his hands and sending him to different tables, jess is keen to see how your drawing progresses each time he returns.

he’s glad he has a decent enough memory to remember the orders he takes; he would rather scribble them onto his own hand than ask you to hand his notepad back.

it’s after he gives taylor doose his omelet that he returns to his notepad in the centre of the counter, turned around so he can see it properly.

artistically speaking, it’s no masterpiece. but to jess, it’s priceless.

there, immortalised in black ink, is a glorified stickman portrait of the two of you. jess is in what he thinks is supposed to be a metallica t-shirt, and one of your eyes is a little bigger than the other, but jess doesn’t care. all he notices is that stickman you has stickman jess’ hand clasped tightly.

the moment his shift is over, jess pins it to his wall.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags ; @faerieroyal

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #jess mariano #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano x you #jess mariano fic #jess mariano fluff #gilmore girls #gilmore girls x reader #gilmore girls x you

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dreaminginpencil · 1 year

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Found this in my drafts and had forgotten to post it soooo...

This art is based on a twitter thread drabble I wrote about Steve and his soft toy Bunny and growing up in difficult situations and loving people that are sick the best that you can.

It's also posted in full on AO3 if you wanna support me there ❤️

(CW: depression and neglect of a child) Steve’s mom suffered with poor mental health and Steve didn’t understand. Eddie does too, and maybe Steve understands better now.

When Steve was small, his parents’ door was open a crack most of the time, the sweet grown-up scents of perfume and cologne drifting out. Their bedroom was a treasure trove of wonders, their expansive closet full of clothes that swished and slipped over his little fingers, his mom’s dressing table cluttered with ornate glass bottles of perfume, sweet-smelling waxy lipstick, and delicate compacts of powders, her silver-backed beautiful hairbrush. Sometimes his mom even brushed his hair like hers, til it gleamed, shiny and soft.

When the bedroom door was closed, Steve knew to knock first, knew he should probably wait and ask for their time later.

Sometimes though, sometimes his mother would shut the bedroom door and she would not leave the room for days. His father would sleep on the couch, or make excuses and go away on “business”.

There would be no sweet smells of perfume, only dark and silence. His father told him that his mom was sick, to let her rest. Steve didn’t understand why she didn’t want to see him. When he was sick, he wanted cuddles and toast and hot drinks with honey and his Bunny with one ear loved almost all the way off.

Steve would sit outside her door with his Bunny and wait. He would wait and wait and eventually when he was lonely and tired he would knock quietly and creep into her room.

With the heavy damask curtains drawn, it drowned the room in blue shadows, the looming frame of the four poster and it’s mounds of blankets piled up. Steve felt like he was climbing a mountain to find his mom amongst them all.

“Are you sick? Do you want toast?”

He would offer her his Bunny, cuddle close. She did not smell like perfume, just something stale and forgotten.

“Mommy’s tired Stevie.”

Sometimes she wouldn’t speak at all, just touch his hair. Sometimes she would tell him to leave her.

“Go and play Stevie.”

Steve didn’t know how to explain with her there was nobody to play with and that his father had gone away somewhere and he was hoping she would make him macaroni.

Steve learnt to get to the high up pantry shelves for snacks until his father got home, or til his mom stopped feeling tired.

She seemed more than tired, but what did he know?

The older Steve got, the more often his mom was tired. He learnt not to ask anymore, just to lie down with her, to be patient, to be sweet.

He learnt to bring her food, even if she would not eat it, to make her tea and open the curtains up. He learnt to coax her from bed and to her vanity, so he could brush the dark tangle of her hair until it gleamed and fell like silk down her back. He ran her hot baths and always gave her his Bunny.

When his parents started to go away and not come home, Steve wondered who took care of her. If his father still left her alone.

She would sound far far away when he called her. “I’m tired Stevie, we’ll speak soon.” The dial tone felt heavy.

Steve gets tired too, but there is nobody who will come to check on him, so he cannot sleep through it.

Eddie is like his mother was, sometimes.

After the Upside Down, after Vecna, Eddie is dogged by the shadow of consequence. They won, yes, they won, but Eddie is scarred and scared and sometimes he is very tired.

Steve knows how to take care of Eddie when he’s tired.

He can come to Eddie in his quietness, in his tangled unwashed sheets and his dark bedroom and he can offer, piece by piece, the things he knows.

He can kiss Eddie’s clammy forehead, his tangled hair, curl up with him and pay no heed to the mortification of dirty sheets for a while. He can crack the blinds and bring him his painkillers and water and coffee. He can coax Eddie to a shower, washing the sleep and the sadness from his skin. He can change his sheets, trade them for clean soft cotton and comfort.

When Eddie is clean and so tired again, Steve can brush his long hair until it’s free from tangles and falls long and dark down his back.

Sometimes Eddie needs time to be tired, but Steve can care for him still, with quiet affection and patience.

Eddie may need time, sometimes, but he never entirely closes the door to shut Steve out.

#steddie #steddie art #steddie fanart #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve's bunny #stranger things #stranger things art #stranger things fanart #steddie drabble #steddie fic #stranger things fic #steddie fanfic #tw: depression #tw: neglect #cw: depression #cw: neglect #jess writes

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beforeimdeceased · 9 months

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SWEET TOOTH — toothache ❤️‍🩹

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° synopsis: a follow from a cute stranger on the internet upends your life in ways you never expected.

☾⋆｡ 𖦹 °✩ author’s note: oh wow this is getting quite juicy…have you guys seen control z? it’s a netflix original it’s like my favorite show of all time give it a looksie. i’m so excited i habe the rest of this smau planned out and maybe after i’ll give you an academic rival!abby drabble

⋆.ೃ࿔*: warnings: none for this chapter!

𓇼 taglist: infinite kisses to @castasplla @machetegirl109 @theganymedes @xnoviee @peejayurple

꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟmasterlist

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 2 months

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I have wayyyyyyyy too many current WIPs. 👀

And this number doesn't even include the next almost finished SKZ!Pack Prequel chapter in my docs.

orrrrr the Pack WIPs also in the that same doc. 😅

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depressopax · 25 days

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The first - Part 1

Fandom - Breaking Bad/Better call Saul

Pairing: Multiple characters x gender-neutral reader (Nacho, Jesse, Kim, Jimmy, Mike, Howard) Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort, one-shots Warning(s): Mentions of sexual tension, weed and alcohol. Cuss words Words: 1.5k Summary: The first kiss with the BrBa/BCS characters English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 »» AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ««

The first kiss

Nacho

You and Nacho had been friends for quite a while during this time. One day, you were chilling in his house and talking and it kinda just happened. Having a complicated life, Nacho was scared to drag you - one of the people he cares about mostly - into it. But the sexual tension between the two of you reached a tipping point when you got into the topic of relationships.

“If things were easier, maybe I’d actually have time to find love” Nacho sighed.

“You deserve to be happy, Nacho.”

“I am. With you.” He realized how it sounded and shook his head. “...Nevermind.”

But you’d heard enough to know you were not crazy. He liked you, too. Without another word, you pressed your lips against his. At first, he responded but soon pulled back.

“We shouldn’t.”

“I know.”

Silence fell, and after a moment, you stood up, walking to the door before you felt Nacho grab your arm. Before given the chance to react - he spinned you around and pulled you into a kiss. With his palm cupping your face, he kissed you in a way no one had done before. It was passionate and needy. Afterwards, he held onto you, breathing hot air at you whilst your foreheads pressed against each other.

“Stay.”

You nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere”

Jesse

Jesse invited you to one of his parties and since you liked him, you decided to go. Little did you know, he felt the same… Opening the door to the house, you were hit by loud music, loud voices and the smell of alcohol, sweat and weed. At least 20 people in the living room vibing to the music whilst getting drunk and high. You felt a bit disoriented entering the place, directly scanning the place for Jesse. You found him sitting in the living room together with the friends Skinny Pete and Badger. When seeing you he smiled and greeted you.

“Yo! I’m glad you made it here.” After hugging you he dragged you along to the kitchen. “Something to drink?”

“Yes please!” After handing you a beer, the two of you sat down next to Jesse’s friends and talked. They kept glancing at the two of you and grinning, like they knew something you didn’t.

“Man… You’re so down bad for them, Jesse.” Badger mumbled whilst smoking his joint. Jesse looked like he wanted to murder his best friend on the spot, whilst Pete just laughed. So that’s what they were grinning about…

“Is that right, Jesse?”

“I…” He stuttered an explanation, but none was needed.

“Maybe I like you too?”

“If you’re playing with me right now…”

“Jesse.” You said firmly. “I mean it.”

After that, Jesse basically grabbed your hand and walked out of the house, with his friends whistling and laughing at the scene.

“Sorry ‘bout them. They’re such damn jerks.” Jesse muttered and looked at the night sky, his face turned away from you to hide the blush.

“You like me.”

“And you like me, too?”

“Yea.”

“Perfect.”

Without realizing it, the two of you had moved closer to each other. When he leaned down, you didn’t hesitate. It was like you could taste the smoke on his soft lips as you kissed. It was intoxicating. Afterwards, you both looked at the sky.

“We should have done that a long time ago.”

“Yea”

Kim

Kim was overworking herself - as usual. And being her worried friend, you couldn’t stand the sight of it. During her lunch break, you went to her office at HHM only to find her buried in paperwork.

“Kim, for fuck sake…”

She barely noticed your presence so you had to walk up to her and tap her shoulder.

“Hey…” she said absent-mindedly.

“Kim…”

“I’ll be done soon, don’t worry”

“You’ve said that for days, Kim.”

“Yea? Well why don’t you-” realizing she was about to snap at you, she went quiet really fast and looked at you in shame “I’m sorry.”

After some convincing, she finally agreed to leave the office and let you buy her a coffee. Seeing her holding the warm paper cup containing cappuccino melted your heart. She looked so calm, for once.

“I’m worried for you.”

“That’s sweet of you… But really, I’m fine.”

You were not satisfied with the reply, and she noticed that - since you had stopped walking.

“Hey… What’s the matter?” she said softly and threw the empty cup in a near bin before standing before you.

“I care about you, Kim. I don’t want you burned out…”

She stroked your cheek, and you could no longer hold back the feelings you harbored. When you kissed her, she didn’t pull back. Rather, she pulled you closer to her.

“Will you stop nagging if I take the afternoon off?” You could only nod in reply, still in shock after the kiss.

Jimmy

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Hmmm? What?” you looked at Jimmy, who drove the car. “Yea, of course. You told me about some clients.”

“...If I bore you out that badly, just tell me, sugar.” he muttered before parking the car.

“You don’t bore me, Jimmy.”

“Sure seems like it.”

He left the car and you had to run after him.

“Look, I’m sorry… It’s just, I’m worried, I guess.”

“Worried? Why?”

“You should hear yourself sometimes, Jimmy.” You hissed. “You’re dealing with some dangerous people. And you always put yourself in shit situations!”

“I got this! Ok?!”

“Yea, sure you do. Sure.”

He rolled his eyes and continued walking.

“Why do you even care?” he grumbled. You had to bite your tongue to not say anything stupid. Because what could you even say? “...And you’re back to ignoring me. Thank you, sweetie.”

“Because I just care, ok?” Tears burned in your eyes, and now he noticed.

“Hey… Sweetheart-” he sighed, seeming uncomfortable with your emotions. “I’m sorry, ok?”

He squeezed your shoulder.

After a minute of awkward silence, he tried lightening the mood with saying:

“You got a lil crush on good ol’ Jimmy, eh?” Your reaction told him everything. “You do??” he chuckled.

“...Idiot.”

“Your idiot.” he murmured before stepping closer - he tilted your head up and forced you to look at him.

“I knew you got the hots for me, sugar. Don’t worry. I feel the same.”

And then he kissed you. At first, you wanted to pull away. You were still angry at him - after all.

But it’s hard to be mad at someone that kisses you like that.

And the way he smiled against your lips - Oh god…

Mike

You had just found out about Mike’s work, and just what he does for his boss Gus Fring. And you were not happy. Saying “you needed to think”, you rushed out from his place.

“Can you at least let me explain?” Mike hissed, following you - one step behind.

“Mike…”

“Please.” Something in his voice had changed. It went from the usually calm but firm tone - to a pleading one. It caught you off guard and you turned around to look at him. He seemed stressed.

“What?” you muttered.

“Please, let me explain.”

And seeing how desperate he seemed, you couldn’t say no. So you listened to him, letting him tell you about his career and why he did it.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Why would I?” he scoffed, but quickly realised how harsh it sounded. Before you had a chance to leave again, he grabbed your hand.

“Because I care about you. I’m not pulling you into my bullshit.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his next words…

“I can’t lose you. Please.”

And then…

He kissed you. Just like that. And how could you pull away, when you’d been dreaming of this moment for so long?

The kiss said more than thousands of words.

Everything made sense now.

Howard

You had known Howard for quite a while and he invited you out for lunch during one of his breaks.

“Over here!” you saw him sitting by a two-person table at the restaurant, waving at you with a big smile. You joined him.

“Jeez, Howard! This place looks… Expensive!”

“Only the best lunch restaurant in town!” He said cheerfully, but you could sense some sort of… Nervousness? In his voice. “Tell me about your day!”

“Well uhm… It was-” He looked at you intensely. It was both cute but a bit weird. “...Are you ok?”

“Of course!”

After lunch - which he insisted on paying - you tagged along when he walked back to HHM and his office. Before saying goodbye, he stopped you.

“Wait! I actually need to talk to you.”

“Alright… Shoot.”

“I…” he gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat before continuing - or at least trying to. “I kinda… Y’know…”

You couldn’t help but smile. The blush said everything.

“Howard…” you cooed, and then leaned in and kissed him. He was startled, but then kissed you back and sighed in relief at you initiating this.

“Was that what you were trying to say?”

“Y-yea…”

“Well… I definitely feel the same.”

AHSHSHS this is prob one of my cheesiest one-shots yet- HOPE Y'ALL LIKED IT EITHER WAYS <3 Next part will be "First date". If you like this concept like, comment or reblog! Would mean a lot. :) MWAHHH

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elsfavor1te · 1 year

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ANGELS WEPT, pt 3.5

hi!! short lil heart breaking action.

warnings: none really? angst. hurt/comfort. dina being sad. jesse being sad. everyone is crying. that’s all bye. (if u see mistakes, no u don’t.)

jesse has had this funny feeling throughout his body all day, first it started with his stomach so he thought maybe he ate something bad? maybe he forgot something?

now that he thinks of it, maybe he didn’t put the toilet seat down when he left earlier. dina hates that.

then the feeling spread, from his stomach down to his legs… up to his chest and through his fingertips. he felt it in every step he took, every move he made. something was wrong.

“dude. the hell are you so on edge for?” his patrol partner, shane asked as they directed the horses through to the stables. it’d take a blind man to not notice how weird jesse was acting.

“don’t know man. something feels off.” jesse murmurs, patting the guy on his shoulder on his way out of the stables.

it wasn’t his intention to be short with him, but he desperately needed to get home to figure out what the hell was going on. his mind was reeling with possibilities.

the streets of jackson were eerily quiet, solemn even. where there would usually be children playing, the snow was fresh and untouched.

a wrinkle set between his eyebrows as his eyes flitted down to his watch. “it’s not that late…”

despite his confusion he trudged on. before long the place he called home came into his view.

when he stepped through the door, the silence should’ve told him something was up. dina was usually somewhere lounging around with her music up or blatantly talking to herself as she moved around their home.

jesse stomped the snow off of his boots before sliding them off of his feet. “dee? i’m back!”

he waited for a second for her to respond before calling out again, “dina?? you home?”

the lack of response pushes him to start walking around and poking his head into rooms, dina hadn’t told him she’d be gone today. to his knowledge she was free today.

jesse’s about to give up when he nears their bedroom and hears a quiet sob. his heart quickens when he opens the bedroom door to his girlfriend sitting at the edge of their bed, sobbing.

the tears running down her face were unrelenting, paving their way and making her reddened cheeks home. her shirt was tightly clutched in one of her hands, right over her chest, right over her heart.

she was a picture of distress. her eyes jumped up to his face as he walks into the bedroom.

“dina? what’s wrong babe?” her boyfriend springs into action, dropping to his knees infront of her hunched over body.

jesse wasn’t the best with comfort and he knew that, so he did what he knew. he knows how comforting physical touch is for her so he made sure to keep one hand on her somewhere, rubbing soothingly. he also took notice of the fact that she was already pretty worked up so he kept his voice down and soft.

“dee, what happened?” he asks her gently, rubbing his calloused hands up and down her trembling arms.

her eyes connect with his and for a moment, she does nothing but stare. the occasional sob still escaped her and her bottom lip trembled consistently but she just stared at him.

“i’m s-so sorry, jess.” she throws her arms around his neck and joins him on the wooden floor.

“..sorry? for what?” jesse tenses and relaxes quickly, rubbing up and down his partners back. her cryptic statement had his mind reverting back to the feeling that’s been assaulting his senses since what felt like all-day.

he tried his best to not get himself too worked up before dina could explain herself.

after a while, she takes a deep breath. her face is still hidden in his neck when she utters your name.

“she— was attacked by some people while on patrol. ellie went and f-found her after she didn’t.. she didn’t come home with the rest of her group.”

“is she okay??” his voice is gruff, overtaken with anger at the thought of someone hurting you. you, of all people.

“she’s dead, jesse.”

his hand abruptly stops its gentle circles against dina’s spine. he could swear he felt his heart stop for a second, “..what?”

dina knows he heard her, not knowing if she could repeat the statement again, she simply tightens her hold on him.

“no- no she’s..” his eyes begin fill with tears when he thinks about how you were just with him. how just last night you and ellie were over, talking shit as the group of you played the board games you’d played 1000 times before.

“this is gonna sound crazy but.. i’ve had this feeling all day. like something was wrong.. and now-“ he stops again, hating the way his voice was cracking.

“i never thought— this hurts so bad, dina.”

the lone tear running down the side of his face quickly multiplies and turns into shoulder shaking sobs.

“i’ve got you. we’re gonna be okay.”

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theostrophywife · 2 years

Note

maybe a az x reader where it's halloween and the girls are dressed up and matching in the cute scandalous outfit and bunny ears? and their having a good time at rita's dancing while the boys stay at the table watching the girls? just in the mood for some halloween vibes! 🎃

kitten.

author's note: i promised myself i'd hold off on writing until i finished crescent city but this is too good to pass up. this isn't my usual full-fledged fic but i figured it would be better than nothing. fair warning, this got a little out of hand so there's definitely smut under the cut.

you and the girls decide to dress up for the all hallow's eve celebration at rita's. mor dresses up as a cheetah, complete with a gold dress and spots on the side of her face. feyre decides to go as a bat, all clad in purple with pointy ears and plastic wings. the valkyries are in matching witch costumes. amren refuses to dress up and goes as herself instead.

the boys are all waiting at the bar. rhys somehow talked cas and az into wearing vampire costumes. faux fangs and red capes should have looked absurd, but something about seeing azriel in a dark suit with his hair slicked back was such a turn-on.

as soon as you walk into rita's, your mate cannot seem to keep his eyes off of you. he had no idea what he was expecting when you said that you would be dressing up, but it certainly wasn't this. you were wearing a tight, latex catsuit that hugged every curve of your body. if that wasn't enough to give him a heart attack, the matching whip and thigh high boots threatened to send him into outright cardiac arrest. you looked like something that crawled right out of his filthiest fantasies and he loved every second of it.

the front of his pants would tighten uncomfortably and you'd shoot him an innocent little smile across the room, knowing full well how aroused he was because you could practically feel his desire rippling down the bond you shared.

you'd be an absolute tease throughout the whole night, dancing and grinding with your friends while you swayed your hips to the beat of the music.

azriel would watch by the bar with his brothers, barely paying attention to whatever conversation cassian and rhys were having while he watched you from the lip of his glass. at this point, the burn of the whiskey was nothing compared to how hot and bothered you were making him.

feyre would chuckle as she nods to the boys. "looks like we've got an audience." you'd smirk in return. "we'd better give them a good show then."

you'd take feyre's tattooed hand in yours and guide them to your hips as you grinded against the high lady. she'd throw her head back in laughter, probably at whatever suggestive comment rhys was telling her through their mental connection. the two of you would make a bet on which mate would break first.

azriel would lose instantly. he'd come up behind you without you even realizing that he'd gotten out of his seat while feyre winks and scurried off to dance with the high lord, who was now approaching the dance floor.

your mate's large hands would clamp down on your hips, pulling you against him while he kisses the back of your neck in greeting. "this wasn't quite what i was expecting when you said you were dressing up," he'd say in that cool, husky voice. you'd blink up at him, fluttering your lashes innocently. "you don't like it?" azriel's hazel eyes would darken as he lowers his voice. "i fucking love it. my little kitten."

the nickname coming from his mouth would sound like the filthiest thing anyone on this realm has ever uttered. the scent of your arousal would cloud your mate's thoughts as he breathes all of you in.

you'd chuckle and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging at the cape hanging between his wings. "i honestly thought rhys would come up with something more ridiculous," you'd tease.

azriel would only smirk. "sorry to disappoint, kitten." he'd hook his fingers through the whip tied around your waist and pull you closer. the wicked grin that spreads across his face would be the picture of sin itself. "i guess you'll just have to whip me as punishment."

you'd blush. "you're such a tease, az."

azriel's lips would brush against the shell of your ear. "that's rich of you to say. the sight of you in this costume is enough to bring me to my knees." his hazel gaze would settle over you and you'd know that you were really in for it tonight. he'd turn you around and brush his erection against your backside while you exhale sharply. "is that what you want, kitten? to have me crawling on my hands and knees for a chance to taste you?" his lips would brush against your neck, awakening a familiar aching sensation in your core. "you should know that i'm not above begging."

you'd grind against him as a slew of curses flies out of his mouth. "i'd never dream of making my mate beg," you'd say with a sly smile. "if you wanted to take me right here and right now, you know damn well that i'd let you, azriel."

it's not long before he's dragging you into the men's bathroom. his kisses would be wet and hot, hungry to taste every inch of you as he presses you against the closed door. azriel would taste like whiskey and mint and you'd get lost in his lips as he perches you up on the marble countertop.

he'd be so impatient with the catsuit, zipping it down so that the cool air kisses your bare skin. you wouldn't be cold for long because azriel's then trailing kisses to your neck, collarbone, and breasts, only to stop just below your navel. he'd part you legs further apart and growl at how wet you already were for him. azriel would run two fingers over your slit and your arousal would glisten on his middle and pointer finger before he brings them to his mouth to taste you. "already so wet for me," az says with a grin. "i meant it when i said i'd get on my knees for you."

your mate would quite literally kneel before you and hike your legs over his shoulders. he'd sink the faux fangs into your inner thighs with a smirk before discarding them and eating you out like his life depended on it.

the thing about azriel is that he's a giver. he'd eat your pussy like he'd been starved for years and you were a feast laid out just for him. he knew where to lick, suck, and swirl, his expert tongue knowing exactly what spot to give attention to. azriel would stop at nothing to make you cum over and over again on his tongue.

with your fingers curled in his hair and your thighs clenched around his neck, azriel would make sure to coax you through the peak of your pleasure as your back arched against the mirror and your moans bounced off the walls. he didn't give a damn if anyone heard. in fact, he wanted the entirety of rita's that it was him and him alone that could make you lose control like this.

just as you rode out your orgasm, he'd replace his mouth with his fingers, plunging two of them into your pussy while his thumb rubs circles around your sensitive clit. he'd take great pleasure in tilting your head back and kissing you deeply, swirling his tongue against yours so you could taste yourself on him.

"that's it, kitten. only i can make you cum like this."

you'd pant as he licks up every last drop, kissing the inside of your thighs gently while you rode out your high. his face would be flushed and his lips dripping with your juices as he comes up from between your legs.

your mate is so gentle as he wipes you down, brushing your hair back and making sure to check that you were alright. he'd kiss the top of your head and give you that smile - the one that only you got to see. "i love you so fucking much."

you'd giggle. "i love you too, az."

azriel would beam as he helps you off the countertop. "have i mentioned how much i love this costume on you?" he'd flick the faux ears perched on top of your head. "though i have to say, i think i'd much prefer it on our bedroom floor."

you'd smile. "i think i would too. do you want to go home and test that theory?"

azriel would open the bathroom door, lacing his fingers in yours. "i thought you'd never fucking ask."

#this was...feral of me #but i am not sorry #azriel #azriel fic #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel drabble #azriel fluff #masterlist #jess writes

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 8 months

Note

Okay, okay, okay! I don't know how I missed this this morning! (Yes I do, I was dehydrated and words were hard lol)

But! For your event~

Jesse, 300 words, SFW or Spicy (I know how finicky plot bunnies can be, lol) and "When was the last time you ate?" With a fem!reader. Pretty please?

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

Hunger

Jesse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Jesse x Fem!Reader

Tags & Warnings: suggestive themes, food issues, food play kink if you squint reallyyyyyyyy hard

Word Count: 300

Author's Note: Vod'ika my love 🥺 Thank you so much for participating and sending in such a great ask! Technically, prompt #3 was slept, not ate, but the idea I had was too good to pass up, so I rolled with it 🥰 This one made me feel a little 🥵 Not gonna lie. So, please enjoy 💚

It was a long day at work, and you are happy to finally be home so you can shower and have a well-deserved nap. However, only moments after your apartment door shuts behind you, you are greeted by a perturbed Jesse. Oh no. You’re not sure what has his feathers ruffled, but he’s making that scrunchy face, so it can’t be good.

Jesse sits down in the chair, propping his legs up on the table, fingers interlaced behind his head as he leans back. He glares at you from across the room. You know it’s coming, at least you know something is coming. You haven’t been home for more than ten seconds and he’s ready to grill you like he’s a detective in the Coruscant Guard.

Jesse raises a suspicious eyebrow. “When was the last time you ate?”

Oh, that. You fidget with your fingers. “I had a twizzler two hours ago,” you answer.

“That’s not food,” he says.

“Technically, it is,” you argue.

“Technically, it’s not,” he retorts.

You sigh. “I’m not hungry.”

“I need you to eat,” he says.

“What do you want me to eat?” you ask.

“Anything,” he says.

A devilish thought crosses your mind and you smirk at him. “Anything?”

“Food!” he adds when he catches your drift. “Anything that’s food!”

“Killjoy,” you pout.

Jesse takes a deep breath to compose himself. He swings his legs off the table and walks over to you, leaving no gap between your bodies. He trails the back of his fingers down your cheek in a soft caress, ending his journey by grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him. His lips are barely a breath away from yours, but still too far to touch.

“What if I feed you?” he whispers. “What if eating could be… pleasurable?”

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

A03

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quirkle2 · 3 months

Text

who wants zombie au writing. don't answer that ur getting it anyway (1.6k words)

His shoes knock against the old flooring of the house, wood creaking under rubber soles that slide over the woodgrain. He drags them a bit, lifts his limbs up no more than he strictly has to, and they lead him to the nearest sittable surface.

The couch is old and dusty and has likely gone untouched for months, much like everything else nowadays, so he watches the thin cloud of dust billow off the cushions largely with disinterest. He collapses into the fabric heavily, feels the whole thing scoot back an inch and hit the wall behind him. The sound echoes, carried by lifeless rooms, while he unceremoniously drops his backpack to the floor by his feet.

The breath he lets out is slow and methodical and born of pent up muscles, aimed at the ceiling where he rests his neck against the back of the couch and relaxes every limb one by one. It’s a process he forces himself through, if only to rid the constant ache beneath his skin.

Slow, sweeping footsteps meander around the room in front of him, and Ritsu angles his gaze down from his craned back position to look at his brother. He wanders, like he so often does—seemingly aimless, but there’s something procedural about it that he’s convinced he just hasn’t figured out yet.

Shigeo’s empty eyes crawl along the hearth of the fireplace, explosions of ash sprayed out across the red brick. His head tilts up to trace his attention around the angular lines of the television, hung on the wall and screen grey with dust. He flits back and forth between the roundness of the bricked mantle and the sharp edges of the screen, like he’s taking notes.

Shigeo paws the television. Four lines of muck are cleared. The zombie blinks, paws at it again with dusty, curious fingers. Ritsu watches him make a mess of the television screen in silence, blinking tiredly.

He almost closes his eyes, but he fights against the urge and moves his fingers down his lap to reach for his bag. His middle hooks around the loop at the top and he lugs it up and into his lap, where he unzips it and peers into the shadowy contents.

Ritsu fishes out the water bottles. He finds the one with the messy R scribbled along the cap in sharpie and takes a big swig of it. It’s warm going down, constantly insulated in a bag of old, sweaty clothes. He feels like he can taste the odor in it, but it clears the grain in his throat from stomping all over dirt roads today, so he’s still grateful.

He holds out the one labeled S to Shigeo. “Thirsty?”

Shigeo looks at him from where he’s crouched down to the floor now, inspecting the soot along the hearth. Unfortunately, he sees handprints in the black already, and when his brother reaches a hand out to take it, his palm is covered in soot.

He lets him have his fun and settles his own bottle back in the mess of tangled clothes and rolls of bandages. Ritsu rakes his fingers through their stock with no real purpose—he knows exactly what’s in here, and none of it is useful.

They’d been searching all day; Ritsu doesn’t really know how far they’d walked, but it had to be a lot of miles. In and out of stores, up and down empty houses, weaving between warehouses—they didn’t really stop for a break. Not when Ritsu can hear Shigeo’s stomach from here and he himself has shaking hands. They can’t afford a break.

Nothing, though. Not a single goddamn thing worth taking. A settlement must have come through here long ago and swept the highway. They’re in the countryside, where houses are spaced out acres from each other and there’s entire cow pastures between properties. And yet every house they’d seen and entered provided nothing.

Ritsu stares into the negative space in his bag where there should be supplies. His stomach cramps and if he smells another whiff of that godawful sweaty, bloody sweatshirt he still carries, he’s going to throw up bile.

He leans away from the open pouch, eyes wandering to his brother who draws… something into the soot of the hearth. His water bottle sits on the floor, abandoned and still unscrewed. Ritsu leans forward with great effort and a grunt, leaning over his bag to grab at the top of it.

It takes him two tries to get Shigeo’s attention, and one more for an answer on where the cap is. It’s then placed in his palm, covered in soot and also saliva. Ritsu swallows down the nausea that rolls up his throat and wipes it off with his frankly already disgusting sleeve, and screws it back on.

He leans back again, succumbing to the urge to let his eyes rest, and he listens to the very subtle swipe of his brother’s hands across brick. There’s birds outside, chirping, and even though it’s still very much a common occurrence, Ritsu cannot help but feel nostalgic about it.

If he ignores the awful hum of silence, and the distinct lack of an electric thrum throughout the walls, and the fact that this is a stranger’s couch and not his, he can almost imagine normalcy. He can almost say this feels like those quiet moments after school, when he settles on the couch and scrolls through his phone in a house that only holds him and his brother because their parents simply aren’t home yet.

He can almost hear the creak of wood from Shigeo walking around his room upstairs. He can almost tap his fingers on the couch cushions to the pattern of his brother making his way down the steps. He can almost hear the fridge opening, and the sound of milk being poured into glass.

Almost. But Ritsu listens to sharp silence instead, and he tries not to think too hard.

He drifts for a while, feels himself truly sink into the couch and let the cushions claim him, and he thinks about nothings because if he doesn’t, then he’ll lose it. He carefully sifts through the nothingness of his mind, through the passing thoughts that have no bearing, and he focuses on that, on the lack of substance. His head is too full of things that have too much substance.

He misses boredom. He tells himself he misses boredom—the complete insubstantiality of it—because if he lets himself think of what he really misses, it’ll drive him insane.

The cushions move, and Ritsu peels his eyes open and lets himself get pulled from liminal mindspace. The cotton in his head recedes, and he blinks, and then he’s swiveling his head to look at his brother who sits in the cushion right next to him.

His hands and the cuffs of his hoodie are smothered in black. Shigeo sits hunched, gaze still wandering even when there’s not much decoration in this house to look at. He studies the off-white walls, the chips in the paint, the holes drilled in where there maybe used to be photos hung.

Ritsu gazes at him quietly, chest instinctively rising and falling to match his brother’s rhythm. He watches the expansion there, under his hoodie, in the subtlety of the folds and the way they warp over the movement. It’s slightly quicker than what he’s used to, but Ritsu knows his brother’s heart rate is much slower. He’s felt it before. He’s listened to it before, with his ear against a chest.

Ritsu’s attention moves to his eyes, and the heavy bags underneath them, and the paleness of his pupils and the ghostlight of him underneath that. He stares into them, looks for stray, familiar thoughts that might enter his head. Looks for old memories that might shine through in the form of recognition when he sees furniture layouts, and candy wrappers, and ads for soda.

Ritsu looks for it all the time, that glint of familiarity. And he finds it, sometimes. And really, he thinks that’s keeping him going more than food ever will.

Shigeo turns his head, and looks at him. Sometimes, when his brother looks at him, there’s not much there. No substance, no anything. And Ritsu finds it a bit evil that he craves silence in his own head, and yet noise in Shigeo’s, and often times it is the other way around.

His brother looks at him now, though, with that comforting recognition. That growth of the pupils, that softening of the hard edges of his face where unknown stressors have gotten to him. Ritsu wonders what zombies get stressed out. He figures it’s the same deal with humans, considering they’re largely alike.

Ritsu wonders if Shigeo knows he’s sick. He wishes he could ask him. He wishes for a lot of things. Silence in his own head is one of them.

Ritsu swivels his head away and stares at the ceiling, if only to force the thoughts to pause. He studies the popcorn ridges above them, traces the peaks with his gaze. It calms him, gives him something to focus on. He looks for patterns in the shadows they make.

Shigeo shifts next to him. And then he shimmies down, settles into the cushions, and plops his head right down on Ritsu’s shoulder.

Static roars in his mind and his heart stammers. Ritsu swallows the lump in his throat but that just makes it bigger, so he clamps his mouth shut and breathes carefully through his nose.

The tears cut through the grime on his face. He plops his own head down against his brother’s, and lives in the noise.

#qkwrites #zombie au #hi <3 #why am i nervous to share this . jayshut up #just to be clear this isn't going to be a full fic #i don't ? believe in my ability to write a Good zombie apocalypse story #at least one in a novel-like layout yaknow #partly bc i know i'll struggle w the logistics and consistency #but also bc i haven't seen a whole lot of zombie media before #i've never watched the walking dead i've never seen any of the popular zombie movies or shows #i think i watched zombieland 2 once ... the one with woody harrelson and thatone guy #uhm. he looks a bit like michael cera but he's Not michael cera. im not crazy he Does resemble him #jesse eisenberg there it is #but that's.the extent of my experience with zombie things #so i!!! wouldn't know if im just making overdone cliche shit #i prolly already am.this concept is prolly old news. i wouldn't know i don't fucking watch zombie stuff VGEAIYVA #idk.my confidence for this isn't there so im not makin it a fic even tho i kinda want to #but i do still wanna write them. so any zombie au writing will be in little micro-scenes like this <3 #some of em might be bigger than others idk yet. we'll see #i Thought i could call this a drabble. but then i learned that drabbles are literally supposed to be exactly 100 words #this is . notthat GVIYEAGVA #ritsu kageyama #mp100 ritsu #mp100 shigeo #mp100 mob #shigeo kageyama #i feel bad putting this in the main tags but.i mean it Does pertain ....#not the mp100 tag tho . iwon't do that to u

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btsgotjams27 · 8 months

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I really want to see a drabble about JK and OC having a little competitive game between them over whether the baby will say mama or dada first! And I want to see the crazy about of teasing the winner will give the loser.

hehe i love this drabble prompt! it’s so fun <3 <3

The apartment was in a constant state of mess. Bam’s toys. Iseul’s toys. Jungkook’s toys—well, action figures, you should say.

You glanced at the clock before returning your attention to Iseul, who was strapped into her high chair. Her pouty lips and cheeks are stained from strawberries because she insists on feeding herself.

Little Miss Independent.

You only had a few minutes before Jungkook would come through the door, announcing ‘daddy’s home.’

“Come on, baby girl. Can you say ma-ma?”

Iseul grabs her plastic fork, tapping it loudly on the tray, completely ignoring your request.

“Ma-ma,” you repeated.

Iseul turns to you with her big doe eyes; Bam’s laying by your feet, waiting to eat any food scraps that Iseul drops. She pokes her pancake strip, then waves her fork around, causing the pancake to drop on the ground, and Bam jumps at the chance to eat it.

She smiles, kicking her feet, excited she’s fed her best friend.

You huff, but you can’t get upset at your eight month old. Those eyes and cheeks always get the best of you, and you blame Jeon Jungkook for helping you make such a cute kid.

The beeping from the keypad can be heard and it’s another day where you’ve failed to have Iseul say, ‘ma-ma’ first. And being the daddy’s girl that Iseul is, you were determined for her first words to be ‘ma-ma.’

The door opens then shuts.

“Daddy’s home!” Jungkook takes off his shoes, setting his things down before shuffling through the hallway, finding his favorite girls at the dining table.

“Ah, there are my girls!”

Bam gets up, walking over to also get some love from him. Jungkook kneels to greet his four-legged friend.

“Bam, have you been keeping an eye on my girls?”

The doberman sniffs and licks Jungkook’s face as an answer to his question.

Iseul is squealing excitedly when she sees her dad. She’s squirming in her seat, waiting to be released.

You rake your hand through your hair to find a piece of pancake lodged in, all thanks to Iseul. Tilting your head up, you wait for a kiss from Jungkook, and you pout when he kisses Iseul instead.

He narrowed his eyes. “Have you been cheating and teaching her to say mama all day?”

You scoffed, putting your hands on your waist. “How dare you accuse me of cheating!”

“Mum-mum,” Iseul babbles, still waiting to get out of her seat.

The two of you turn to her.

You gasped. “She said mama!”

“No, she said mum-mum,” Jungkook countered.

“Same difference!”

Jungkook pulled up a chair to sit beside you. “Okay, baby girl. Can you say da-da? Da-da?”

“My sweetest girl, can you say ma-ma?” You nudged Jungkook’s hip with yours and he glared back at you.

Iseul looked at you then Jungkook, clapping her hands and cooing. She threw the rest of her strawberries and pancake on the ground.

“Ba-mee. Ba-mee.”

Of course, Iseul’s best friend comes running when he sees food on the ground. Bam gobbles everything up, including the previous crumbs on the ground.

Iseul’s giggling and clapping. “Ba-mee. Ba-mee.”

You and Jungkook looked at each other and laughed because the both of you lost at your own game. Iseul’s first word wasn’t mama or dada, it was Bamie.

You sighed. “Now, can you stop withholding kisses from me now? Because we both lost to Bam.”

Jungkook grinned from ear to ear, hooking his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. His eyes are locked in on your lips, then shift to your eyes. “Nope.”

#tiu celebration #tiu drabbles #reader; erica2283 #jess answers #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenarios

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ugh-yoongi · 9 months

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I haven't seen anybody write out Hobi being a librarian and I think that'd be soo cute! Sweet Hobi all smitten on a regular reader, and of course, they're a regular for a reason, but both are too nervous and self-conscious to act on any of their desires.

oh, this is so soft, i love this so much. thank you for sending it in! i hope you enjoy. <3

we're celebrating jess's birthday! hobi hours are: OPEN.

low key, no pressure

pairing: hoseok x reader (no pronouns used) genre: mutual pining, librarian au; fluff warnings: swearing, hobi being a cute disaster, this is kind of idiots to lovers but since the lovers development is implied i didn't tag it that way but just know it's there ok, taehyung is a shithead, mostly unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 1.6k

Hoseok is a little misguided, is the thing.

What counts is that he has good intentions, even if they don’t hold up under closer examination. But he’s sort of a disaster of a human, so he takes Taehyung’s ribbing on the chin and forges ahead with his plan.

All because he doesn’t know how to talk to you.

He knows your favorite book because you check it out at least once a month. He knows your favorite flower because there’s a bouquet of them tattooed so artfully on your arm they look painted on. He knows your name and your address and your phone number because it’s in the system, and he has enough sense not to do anything with them.

“You could just—and I’m just spitballing here—say hello.”

Hoseok frowns. “I say hello every time…?”

Taehyung is a year younger, so it feels weird to disappoint him. Settles in his stomach all funny, like he’s doing something wrong but can’t figure out what it is. “That’s not—” Taehyung sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you always like this? Like, this is your baseline?”

“I’m not following.”

“Clearly,” Taehyung mutters. He looks good today, Hoseok thinks. Looks like he’d woken up and put actual effort into his appearance. Looks like the summer has favorites. Doesn’t at all look like he’s on the verge of a mental break, which is more than Hoseok can say about himself. “Hyung, I’m going to ask this point-blank—”

“Maybe don’t? I’m fragile.”

“—Do you know how to flirt?”

Hoseok scoffs, all instinct. Of course he knows how to flirt. He’d flirted his way through undergrad and then grad school with great success. He flirts with the grumpy IT guy the city sends over, just because it’s funny to watch his cheeks turn a shade of red he’d previously thought was impossible. Hell, he flirts with stupidity every single day, so who is Kim Taehyung to ask him such a thing?

“Don’t ask silly questions, Taehyungie.”

“So you’re saying you do?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

“Okay,” Taehyung shrugs, and Hoseok sighs in relief, glad that particular interrogation is over. “Flirt with me, then.”

And then he’s choking on his tea, expensive cashmere sweater now soiled with half a cup of honey vanilla chamomile. “You asshole,” he wheezes, barely able to get the words out before his throat constricts again, warning him of another impending coughing fit. “My sister bought me this sweater.”

“Noona has great taste,” comes Taehyung’s easy reply, paying no mind to Hoseok at all, “which is to be expected, of course. Now, please flirt with me once you’ve recovered.”

“Why?” Hoseok snaps, because the way he’s blotting at his sweater with a soggy napkin is humiliating. He doesn’t even have a change of clothes anymore; had taken his gym bag out of his car a few weeks ago when he’d gotten the flu.

Taehyung sighs again—put-upon, like he’s dealing with an obtuse child. “Because I’m trying to facilitate true love, and I can’t send you into battle unprepared.”

Hoseok just glares. He’s going to have to spend his lunch break running back to his apartment to change.

Right, the plan.

It’s all dependent on you sticking to your routine, which goes like this: every Sunday afternoon, without fail, you swing by the library and make pleasant small talk with Taehyung as you return your books. Taehyung, without fail, asks what you thought of them and recommends new ones accordingly. You always smile and say thank you, and your voice always sounds like church bells.

(“That’s because you want to mar—” “I will fire you if you finish that thought.”)

Hoseok is always conveniently absent during these exchanges, pretending to do paperwork in his office. This is why Taehyung calls him a coward, and that’s probably true, it’s just… Hoseok has talked to you enough times to develop a big fat crush, and that’s not acceptable. He doesn’t even know you; doesn’t want to romanticize you and put you on a pedestal.

Hence the plan.

If he can’t talk to you with words, he’ll do it with books.

It’s genius, regardless of what Taehyung thinks.

But Taehyung is integral to the plan, so Hoseok has to get him on board. “Look, I already put it together, I just need you to… suggest it.”

“You mean be manipulative.”

“It’s not manipulative,” Hoseok argues, sending a glare Taehyung’s way. “It’s no different from you suggesting books any other time.”

“I just don’t understand why you can’t just say hi, I really dig your taste in literature, would you like to grab a coffee sometime? It’s not that hard, hyung, you really don’t need to do all of…” He points at the stack of books Hoseok has assembled. “...This.”

There’s about three seconds before Hoseok explodes, and Taehyung must realize it because he’s throwing his hands up and going fine, fine and helping sort the books.

As annoying as Taehyung can be, he really is a great salesman.

Powerful, too, because Hoseok wouldn’t have lasted a second in your presence. Probably would’ve melted under the warmth of your smile; would’ve withered as soon as you strolled in with your tattoo visible; would’ve fallen to his knees the second you said hello.

Taehyung has done none of those things, which Hoseok knows because he’s standing on a chair, watching from the window in his office. He knows Taehyung can see his face peeking through the blinds, keeps rolling his eyes whenever the two of them make eye contact, but he schools his expression and keeps Hoseok’s secret safe.

“I actually have some special recommendations for you today,” he hears Taehyung say. Watches as he hands over the bundle of paperbacks. “Our lovely head librarian thought you might be interested in these. He picked them out just for you.”

You look taken aback. It sends Hoseok into a panic, wondering if he’d gone too far. Maybe he should’ve listened to Taehyung, after all, but surely a stack of books is less forward and weird than a coffee date? You can just not read the books and return them if they aren’t your thing, but turning someone down face-to-face is much harder.

No, no—Hoseok did the right thing. He has to have faith in the plan.

“Wow,” you reply, a beautiful smile lighting up your face. “These look great. Please tell him I said thank you.”

Taehyung’s smile is not beautiful. It’s greasy and smarmy. “Oh, I most certainly will.”

Taehyungie (11:32am): Can’t make it into work today, hyung Taehyungie (11:32am): I’m super sick Taehyungie (11:32am): Sorry 😉

Hoseok can’t believe what he’s seeing.

Kim Taehyung is a traitor. A treasonist. A miscreant. Another word for a disloyal person who is not only willing to abandon his hyung in his time of need, but is gleeful about it.

What could Hoseok possibly have done in a past life to deserve this?

Doesn’t matter, he decides. This is totally fine. Hoseok’s going to prove Taehyung wrong. He’s going to have a proper conversation with you. He’s going to ask what you thought about the books he’d chosen. He’s going to recommend new ones. He’s going to flirt. He might even ask if you want to grab coffee sometime, and he’s going to relay all of this to Taehyung right before he tells him to go to hell.

Just one small hiccup: he has to survive you first.

You’re surprised to see him, and the way your eyes widen makes Hoseok’s heart skip a beat. God, he’s worse off than he thought. Gets worse when you reach the circulation desk and he can smell your perfume: something soft and earthy that reminds him of a spring breeze. Has his knees shaking, on the verge of buckling beneath him, and it’s only through pure spite that he stays upright.

“Good afternoon,” he says with a small wave.

You smile. “Hi, Hoseok. Haven’t seen you up here in a while.”

“Ah, well, you know. Paperwork.”

You nod, but the jerky motions of your head tell Hoseok you probably don’t do much paperwork at your job. “Yeah, of course. Is Taehyung out today?”

“Yep, took a sick day.” He shouldn’t, but he thinks Taehyung deserves it: “Sent me a text this morning and said it was coming out both ends. Seems bad.” You’re grimacing. Oh god, you’re grimacing. “Anyway! Here for your weekly return?”

Like a switch has been flipped, you scramble into action, reaching into your tote bag to retrieve the books. “I—yeah, sorry, let me just…”

“Sure, take your time. Did you like them?”

“Yes,” you answer, gaze slowly rising to meet his own. There are words clearly biting at the back of your teeth and, like Hoseok has done a million times before, you swallow them. Slowly, you hand over all the books but one. “I especially liked this one.”

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. Hoseok had agonized over that one for days, wondering if it was too much, if it’d send the wrong message. Some of the other books were more obvious, but this one was… well. It’s not what was said that’s important, it’s what wasn’t, and Hoseok had concocted that stupid plan because he couldn’t say what he wanted to.

But you’re handing it over with a hesitation that has Hoseok smiling despite himself. “Would you like to hang onto it a little longer?”

“Would that be okay?”

“Of course.” And then, because he’s brave and he doesn’t want to end up like one of Ishiguro’s characters, he takes advantage of a fleeting moment of bravery. “Maybe we could—aish. Would you like to discuss it over coffee sometime? The book, I mean. With me.”

You nod, and your smile is shy. “I would love to.”

#hoseok x reader #bts x reader #jhope x reader #hoseok fluff #hoseok imagine #hoseok fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #fic: jess drabbles #jewel answers #jewel writes

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cute-sucker · 27 days

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thinking of expanding my horizons, so answer this poll for me :)

edit; if you'd like to read more than one, please comment the following!! (i can tag you for those stories as well)

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ohcaptains · 1 year

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smoke and mirrors

synopsis. jess finds subtle ways to let everyone know you’re hers.

an. back on my jess bullshit. though to be honest, i never really left. here’s something short and sweet. apologies if you’re not in the aloto fandom, mostly because it’s good and you’re missing out on great telly !

warnings. ‘hiding’ ones sexuality and mentions of homophobia. not beta’d.

It all started when she saw you hanging with the Danvers’ eldest son. Had stepped out of the grocer with a fresh pack of smokes, and her first drag was ruined from the sight of you walking into the diner with his arm slung over your shoulder.

Rage had ripped through her, a living, breathing thing. It fuelled her, sparking a desire to stalk over there, rip his arm from you and then slug him one in the face. Feel the pop of his nose from under her knuckle, then see the blood start to pour. Yet she stayed rooted in her spot. Never dared to cross that line.

She dreamt about it later that night, instead.

Got into bed and imagined beating him senseless, then pulling you into her and planting a kiss on your pretty lips, victorious. She knew it came from an odd sense of masculinity that she’d aspired to but was never allowed to achieve.

I want everyone to know that you’re mine, she’d whispered into your ear a couple of days later, after you’d explained that your mother had set up the little arrangement. Jess had traced the line of your nose. Bent over you, covering your naked body with hers and whispered, want to take you out and show you off.

It was bittersweet. It could never happen – certainly not in her hometown of Moosejaw, anyhow.

So, she got creative. Got desperate, more like. Started leaving her smokes in your jacket pocket. Her cap in your bedroom. Started depositing little bits of herself in your life, so that others could see that you were hers, and that she was there, and she wasn’t moving a fucking muscle. Gum packets, receipts, her favourite soda that you hated.

“You left these in my room again,” you spit, throwing her smokes at her as you climb into her truck. Jess catches the packet, waiting for you to turn to her in mock impression – like you always did when she showed off her skills – yet you don’t grace her with your eyes.

“You gotta be more careful, Jess,” you tut, glancing out of the window. Face snarled together, frustrated – Jess sees it in the way you wring your hands together. She licks her lips. Tries to be nonchalant about it all, even if her heart is slamming against her chest. She knows. She knows. She knows about my game. “Just say they’re yours.” Your head whips around, and Jess gets a whiff of your perfume. “You think my Mother would let me smoke?” “They’re good for you,” she shrugs, pushing the half-empty packet into her skirt pocket, in front of the new one. This decision of hers to fill you up with her things was getting costly. “I don’t think doing anything as often as you smoke is good for you.” Jess smiles, thinking that there was a flirtatious joke in there somewhere. She doesn’t say it, though. Knows you’re pissed, and it would just deepen the fact. So, she licks her lips and watches you furiously buckle up. Tries to find a response that won’t earn her the silent treatment. “The man on the radio said so,” she counters, and you roll your eyes, looking at her with a disappointed huff. Her face collapses – said the wrong thing. A horrible thing, it seems, as your eyes go cold – busy with a memory. You shake your head at her. “Man on the radio says a lot of things, things my parents listen to – remember?”

She remembers, of course, how could she not? Getting into your house, your parents were in the living room as the buzz of the radio fluttered through the hallway. The pair of you had stood in the foyer, listening to some preacher spread lies and hatred over the airwaves. Just…leaning against the wall, listening, and watching each other. Saying everything that needed to be said, without uttering a word.

“'m sorry,” Jess mumbles. The word is foreign on her lips, but she withstands the taste anyhow. “I didn’t --” she mutters, scrunching her face up and slinging a hand to the wheel. “—didn’t think.” “Yeah, you didn’t,” you quickly spit, and Jess is filled with such regret that she wants to vomit. The truck is silent until the hears the rustle of your jacket as you shrug.

“Besides, my mother would never believe that I smoke Old Golds…Chesterfields, maybe.” You turn to her, fighting a smile. “Old Gold…now that’s an old man cigarette.” She looks at you – relaxing, slightly. Emotions shifted, said your piece. Jess’ face breaks into a slow smile, and when it reaches her ears – as it always manages to do – she shakes her head at you.

“Damn baby, you’re mean.”

Though she decides she’s going to smoke Chesterfields from now on, to avoid suspicion.

#jess mccready #jess mccready x reader #jess mccready drabble #jess mccready x female reader #jess mccready imagine #a league of their own #aloto #aloto fic #a league of their own fic #kelly mccormack #attention lesbians

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year

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hi kit !! :3 hope you’re well <3

can i request "why are you doing this?" "because i love you." w kakashi for the prompts ? tysm !!

⁙ conundrum

(noun) a confusing and difficult problem or question

‣ modern au! ceo! hatake kakashi x personal assistant! gn! reader; 0.63k wc; hints of enemies-to-lovers trope; sickfic; one mention of drinking, throwing up, hangover; idiots in love; love confessions; tooth-rotting fluff; domestic fluff

‣ hey jess (@pupkashi)!! ofc you can!!!! tysm and hope you'll like this <333

‣ first time writing for the sixth hokage with minimum knowledge possible on naruto manga/anime. gif, divider and characters ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

a conundrum.

a baffling, bewitching conundrum is what you are to hatake kakashi.

from your first day as the man's personal assistant when you call the black coffee he drinks as 'overpriced water'...

... to the day, a month later, you fib on there being heaps of work to be done, thus you being in office – when you finished everything two days prior; besides it being a Sunday, the death anniversary of his father and kakashi the only one working there...

... to the day you chatter his ears off, listing the reasons why you, 'the most tolerant assistant ever' (not his words, yours) deserve a pay hike – the main reason being 'the twenty times in the past six months you hauled his drunk ass to his penthouse on the thirtieth floor, ensured he didn't die choking on his puke or from a hangover headache, and dealt with every task of his for the next two days – what with him being a fucking lightweight and all' (again not his words, yours)...

... to now, when you're at his bedside, applying a piece of wet cloth to his forehead, a worried scowl twisting your pretty features.

a shadow of a smirk plays with the corner of his lips as he asks, "you do realize, right, unlike before, i won't increase your salary for playing nurse to me this time?"

"i know," you mutter, as you dial in the doctor's number. the call goes unanswered yet again, kakashi discerns from the quiet sigh falling past your lips. keeping your phone next to the night lamp, you return your attention to him and caress his cheek with a cool palm.

despite leaning into the comfort you offer him from his fever-stricken state, the man's smirk at you doesn't budge one bit.

"then, why are you doing this?"

your hand stills over the apple of his cheek.

in the soft light of the afternoon sun filtering in through the curtains, kakashi watches the way your gaze darts anxiously (and dare he say, coyly) from him to the wall clock and back to him, your teeth nibbling on your lower lip – before a tiny smile blooms on your lips.

"because i love you."

it's kakashi's turn to grow still now.

jaw hanging wide open, the man stares and stares at you - the you who just keeps smiling at him, all sweet and innocent, as if you did not just drop the bomb of a fucking love confession on his sick self - when a sudden hiccup escapes him and you burst out laughing.

"you're such a dumbass, sir," you wheeze, giving him a glass of water from the bedside table. kakashi accepts it silently, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes shooting daggers.

you continue with an unruffled grin, "don't worry, sir. i might not be the most ideal employee but i ain't that unideal to start a relationship with my boss- much less if he's the ceo. much less if it's you."

irked, kakashi opens his mouth to throw back a quip - only to be cut off by a doorbell before he can get a word out. giving him a wide grin and a wink, you hurry to get the door and the man slumps back in his bed, watching your receding figure.

yeah, you and him getting together can only cause problems, power imbalance the foremost amongst them, kakashi thinks as relief floods him from knowing your confession was a hoax – before you walk in, brows pinched together as you check whether you've received every medicine ordered or not – and an unbidden thought hurtles through the man's mind.

what might his life look like with you in it – not as his assistant but as his partner?

‣ ask game || rules

‣ characters i write for — jjk: gojo, sukuna, geto, nanami, toji; nrt: kakashi; aot: levi; csm: aki; mha: hawks, dabi

#ask: jess 💙#ask game with kit 🔬#kit's inbox 📧#kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #hatake kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi x you #kakashi drabbles #kakashi fics #kakashi imagines #kakashi fluff #hatake kakashi #naruto #kit posts 📝

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