frat!jo has a big, fat embarrassing crush on you (and handles it very poorly).
tags. fluff. angst but not really LMFAO. college au. stupidstupid gojo.
satoru has never considered himself to be very charming. sure, he's been with a few ladies here and there, and yeah, he thinks he's pretty good in bed.
the problem? that's with women he doesn't care about. they flock to him like birds when he offers so much as a half-hearted nod of the head.
you, however, are a different case.
no matter now hard he tries, you simply never look in his direction. you don't see him as a person, but rather, a rumor. a whisper. the guy every girl should watch out for.
he's done it all. wearing a t-shirt with your favorite band on it when he knew he'd pass you in the halls. making sure your name is on every party invite list even though you aren't the type to go out on fridays. going to your favorite cafe to "study" and drink strawberry-fucking-matcha lattes because you like that shit and fuck it, so will he if it means he has a chance of running into you.
but nothing. you remain a fragment of his life, out of his reach but within plain sight. it's a modern form of torture, he's sure of it.
he's about to do the usual. it's a party. there's lots of beer and women, which is just enough to distract him from his boy-crush on the girl who sits in front of him in english 101.
but before he can scoop up the first willing, horny, girl, he spots a familiar shadow. he nearly drops his red cup and spills beer everywhere. the girl he was just entertaining? yeah, he leaves her mid-conversation.
it's you.
you don't look too happy about being here, but you're here, alright. leaning against a wall, sipping a definitely non-alcoholic beverage, chuckling lightly at the poor jokes your friend group passes around.
oh god, you're so cute. he's never seen you like this before. your hair is styled in a cute little updo, strands falling to frame your face. your outfit is a simple pair of jeans with a devastatingly tight crop top.
you laugh--this time for real--when someone trips and falls over in a comical manner.
he has to talk to you. now or never.
he's in his element, really. alcohol buzzes through his veins, giving him a false sense of confidence and a glow that he's sure makes him look extra attractive. or so he hopes, at least.
he strides over, slipping through people with practiced ease until he finds himself leaning on the wall next to you.
confidence satoru. godspeed. you're the fucking man.
he takes a deep breath.
"hey, haven't i seen you around somewhere before?"
you turn your head, only just now noticing him. you eye him up and down.
"uh, no?"
okay. nailed that.
he shakes his head, trying to recover.
"maybe look again?" he puts on his best smouldering expression, hoping that he's giving Handsome Man, and not Douchebag.
from the look on your face, he's giving Douchebag.
you snort. "yeah, no. never seen you. hope that doesn't hurt your ego too much." with a light chuckle, you start walking away.
no, no, no. abort mission. change tactics. he can't have screwed up already!
"hey, wait!" he calls out, grabbing your wrist and also the attention of literally everyone else in the room.
it goes still for a moment. not quiet, but still. some people stare. he can already hear their thoughts.
is THE gojo satoru struggling to hit on a girl? sheeeesh.
okay, he needs to be suave so he doesn't look stupid. at that moment, he pulls you backward and into his chest, letting you tumble into him like a damsel in distress.
"not so fast, sweetheart," he murmurs into your ear, instinctively doing what usually works for him.
you push off of him with a sneer.
"fuck off!" you yell. "don't be weird."
welp. now satoru wants to die. why can't he be a normal guy in front of you? but alas, his pride persists.
"come on," he drags, shoving his hands into his pockets with faux-nonchalance. "don't play hard to get now."
you roll your eyes, turning away with an air of finality.
"god, this is why i hate frat boys," you mumble under your breath.
as satoru watches you drift into the sea of sweaty bodies, taking a sip of his beer like his heart and ego wasn't just crushed, he thinks that he hates being one too.
notes. i love stupid pining men who don't know how to hit on women. HEHE. next will be nerdjo methinks. in my fluff era right now. also requests are open! love u thank u for reading! <3
Welcome to my Benedict Bridgerton directory, full of all the stories I love! Each work is credited to their amazing author, and if you enjoy a story as much as I do don’t hesitate to reblog or comment to encourage and show them some love.
masterlist ● Bridgerton
⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪ rec list
⟡ the ultimate deception┃@maximoff-pan
you are a well known artist who paints under a pseudonym. What happens when Lady Whistledown comes to know of your identity? How will your relationship with Benedict evolve?
⟡ you bewitch me┃@pencil-n-pen
Benedict Bridgerton has been the least tolerable Bridgerton since you arrival to the ton. You are a lady of respectable means, though nearly forgotten by society due to some extenuating circumstances. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t stay away from him.
⟡ delirium pt2 pt3 pt4┃@sarahisslytherin
you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity.
⟡ I know you so well series┃@homeofthepeculiar
When Benedict runs from his feelings for one of his closest friends, Anthony takes it upon himself to show his brother what he is missing.
⟡ Mr Bridgerton and the baker┃@murdockparker
Covered in flour. It is how she usually spent her days, working hard at her family's bakery. She just hadn't expected to have met him in such a state.
⟡ En garde ┃@delphispoeticals
where you care too much about what your mother thinks, much to your siblings dismay, it almost guides all of your decisions. but when you rely on what you want... you find it to be rather rewarding — starting with a simple game of fencing. En Garde.
⟡ Wool from the black sheep series ┃@homeofthepeculiar
When Benedict falls for the Bridgertons' new governess, he finds that there is more standing in his way than just the rules
⟡ over the garden wall┃@herweirdass
you are determined to escape an arranged marriage to a stranger, but you end up caught — quite literally — by benedict himself, whose charm, laughter, and absurd goal of nineteen children slowly turn her reluctant heart into a willing one.
⟡ not for him┃@iwritefandomimagines
you may not have been the season’s diamond, but your debut had caused quite the stir in many a man’s heart — your childhood best friend benedict bridgerton included. however, given that the viscount had decided that he would marry this season, benedict cannot see why you would choose him over his brother.
⟡ touched pt2┃@goat-limbs
As Eloise's friend you've found yourself a distraction and an outlet in writing letters for lovers who want to impress each other. Benedict catches you mid-writing one and commissions you.
synopsis: vincent whittman, a charming tv star by day and a ruthless killer by night. he’ll stop at nothing to eliminate any potential threats to his fame… and to have his soon-to-be fiancé, the sweet host of the baking show that airs right after his old weather segment.
notes: my vox obsession has been revived hehegegehe anyways general hcs for human vox coming soon js wait
general hcs
“I just don’t understand how this keeps happening. Why this keeps happening. It’s like some curse!”
Vincent tried very hard not to smile as he listened to you talk while putting the finishing touches on your makeup before the two of you went out on your date night. Another show host had been murdered, this time the host of the night talk show you would play every night.
“They still haven’t caught whoever’s doing this. What if it’s us next? What if it’s you?” you frowned, the mirror reflecting your worried-filled eyes as you applied lipstick, then capping it and placing it onto the table.
Vincent walked behind you, resting his hand on your shoulder as he turned you around. He could smell your perfume from here, sweet and distinctly vanilla. How fitting. “Sweetheart, we’ll be fine, I promise you. I can take care of myself, and I’ll always take care of you, okay?” he reassured you, one hand on your cheek and the other in his pocket, fiddling with the velvet jewelry box inside. You nodded, slightly unsure but trusting.
He did feel bad for scaring you. Killing the man wasn’t hard. Neither was killing the man before, or the one before him. Neither was seamlessly taking their place, their shows, their fans, their influence. He’d do the same to this man too. They had been in his way after all. He had his eyes set on Damien Carlson next. He hosted some nature and animal show that was getting a bit too popular for his liking, and was way too friendly towards you.
The only 3 things that Vincent wanted were fame, influence, and you. Not one of his coworkers meant a thing to him but you, and if this was the cost of building his ideal word, him on the top and you his doting first lady, he was willing to pay it.
He took your hand, and the both of you strolled out the front door and towards the driveway. He opened the front passenger door of his new, flashy car for you. He was such a gentleman, you thought.
He pulled out of the driveway and drove off, one hand on the steering wheel and the other one on your lap, tracing patterns. Both of you thrummed with nervousness, but for very different reasons. You were concerned because of all of the murders that had happened. How could Vincent be so indifferent, you thought. Wasn’t he worried too? Vincent’s only worry, however, was the ring in his pocket.
He had reserved a table at the fanciest restaurant in town, made a whole speech, planned out everything right.
You had seen him, even when he was just a mere weatherman, underestimated by everyone else. You were so beautiful, and as sweet as the baked goods you made on your cute little show and he needed this, needed you to say yes-
Your humming interrupted his spiraling thoughts. One of your favorite songs had come onto the radio. Focus, Vincent, focus. He’d marry you and you wouldn’t leave him. He knew it.
Soon the two of you pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and stepped out. Vincent had a hand protectively placed on your back as he walked you into the restaurant and as the two of you were seated.
“Vincent, this place is so nice!” you gushed. “Only the best for you, my sweet,” he responded as he gazed at you from across the table. His future wife. He cleared his throat, trying to appear less nervous. The waitress came and he asked for wine for the both of you.
You flipped through the menu, looking for what you’d order. “Vincy, what should I get? Maybe the pasta…” he nodded, his nerves on fire.
He went through all the motions, ordering for the both of you, talking about how his day went (leaving out the more.. gruesome details), asking you about yours, asking you how your food was, waiting for the perfect moment..
You noticed how tense and nervous he looked, totally out of character for him. “Baby? Are you okay? is there something going on? Should we go?” You frowned.
“There- er.. There is something, something I need to ask you.” he stammered out, internally face-palming. His usual confidence had left him, along with the speech he had planned out in his head. God, Vincent, get it together!
“What? What is it?” you asked, concerned. He stood up. “[Name]..” he knelt in front of you, pulling out the velvet box from his pocket and opening it. In it was a ring, the most gorgeous one you’d ever seen. “..Will you marry me?”
“Oh, Vincy..” you gasped, heart thudding. It took everything in you not to embrace him right there on the ground. “Yes, yes i’ll marry you!” Your eyes were wide and wet with tears as he slipped the ring onto your finger.
He began to get teary himself as he stood up and embraced you into his arms, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. You were his, all his, and no one, not even that asshole tree hugger Damien Carlson could take you away from him.
He’d still have to take care of him, of course, but that could wait until tomorrow.
/ happy pride! Got some requests for a twink tf so here ya go I also think this is my first ever 2 part story, I usually never do that! However the story got incredibly long and so I wanted to give you guys this one slowly ;)
/Straight to gay, the tf doesn't finish until part 2
/tw: use of f slur, misogyny
James hated being a personal trainer. He thought that he would get to hit on all the ladies but they barely came to him. Unbeknownst to him his reputation of being an asshole has dissuaded the general public to his services, the only ones that were willing were gay guys that had a thing for being talked down to. Constantly he would complain about the sissies coming in, but he tried to remain cordial. Although how well he was able to hide his animosity was another story. He admitted that he did feel a bit of a rush whenever a fag would be checking him out, not because he was gay or anything– but because he felt powerful. Like he had these gay men in the palm of his hand. He just wished that some bitches would come get trained by him too.
Recently this guy, Luke, has been coming in to see James, and he was forward- a bit too forward for his liking. It had been a few months and the twink wouldn't stop hitting on him, but he couldn't lose another client. His boss had threatened to fire him if he kept losing clients– so he was stuck. James thinks that Luke knows this and is using it to his advantage.
"God you're so gloomy today Jamesy" Luke said after their first set. James hated when Luke called him that.
"Dont worry about it boy, keep doing your sets"
Luke scoffed, "if you weren't so hot I'd quit on spot ya'know. You treat me like a kid but I'm older than you”
James went quiet. He was so tired of Luke but his boss was watching him like a hawk. Trying to not look at Luke’s face he averted his gaze, looking down at Luke James realized something he’s never seen before– how nice Luke’s legs were. He had seen the twink’s legs plenty of times, it was literally his job to watch his form. Maybe the workouts were finally working out, however for some reason he couldn’t stop staring.
*snap*
“A little distracted are we?” Luke whispered, “Seems like ol’ James might have a little fruit in the tank after all.”
“What the hell are you talking about, get back to it.”
—
Over the next week James couldn't really explain what was happening to him. No girl was grabbing his attention and usually he would be able to at least settle with some chick for the night. At least he had his bro Tristan to keep him company at the bars.
“Bro I just don't get it, none of these bitches are doin’ it for me lately. I just need to fuuuckkk, a man can only goon so much.”
“C'mon big guy chill out, I'm sure you'll find someone tonight” Tristan reassured him. Little to James’ knowledge Tristan was bi and had been trying to get with him since they became friends.
Listening to Tristan he thought about what a good friend he’s been over the years, he felt like he was unfair to him at times– but even then he still stuck by him. He was so loyal, kind, charming, kinda cute, sexy–
Shit.
With Tristan's hand on his shoulder he felt something stir in his pants. He looked down embarrassed. Tristan only took a second to think before immediately taking initiative.
“Do you want me to help you with that?... big guy” Tristan's grip tightened. Immediately James got harder.
Tristan struggled to fully wrap his arm around the shoulders of the taller man, opting to grab James by his waist, “let’s get out of here.” James nodded, bright red.
What the fuck is going on with me, Why can’t I stop?
“Luckily I’m right down the road or we would’ve had to fuck in the bathroom stall” Tristan snickered.
“Shh- not so loud!”
“Please, like everyone didn't see your giant ass dick sticking straight out”
James felt like a complete prisoner in his body. It wanted what it wanted, and right now what it wanted was to fuck his best friend.
—
As soon as the door closed James pushed Tristan onto the couch. He had been hungry like never before, ripping off Tristan’s tight black tank top like he was a gift on christmas eve. His tongue explored Tristan’s body, trailing down from his neck as he grazed his sweaty pecs and abs. Unbuckling his pants, sniffing the musk coming from Tristan’s crotch.
He was in heaven.
A look of confusion came across James’ face as he looked down at his cock, sure it was sizable but he swore that it looked a little smaller. It didn’t matter right now, he just need to fuck Tristan. Getting on top James slid his cock in between Tristan’s muscular ass cheeks.
“Fuck stop teasing me” Tristan whimpered out.
“You wanna talk about teasing?” James bit back as he reached around Tristan, rubbing his nipples. As he did so he slid into him slowly.
“F-fuck you’re so big…”
“I know, slut”
He started slow, he had never given anal– or received it for that matter. He was scared to hurt Tristan, an instinct he never felt when he was with a girl. He picked up the pace as the heavy sticky sound of his balls slapping Tristan’s ass reverberated through the apartment. Truthfully, it did not take long for James to cum, it was nothing like he had ever experienced, cumming inside his best friend. He soon realized that Tristan had not cum yet as he flipped him around, Tristan’s thick cock pulsating against his abs– leaking pre.
He had never given a blowjob before but seeing Tristan absolutely out of breath so compromised sparked something in him. He spread Tristan’s thick muscular thighs apart as he wrapped his lips around Tristan’s head. He played with him a little as he licked the slit up and down, slowly edging the thick cock further down his throat.
“Oh fuck.. Look up at me baby...” Tristan whimpered, his voice hitching like James had never heard before.
With his pleading eyes Tristan swore that James looked, cuter? His eyes were bigger, his eyelashes longer. Even his hair seemed more like a dirty blonde than brown, a little more grown out then he usually had it. James fully took Tristan’s cock in his mouth as he bopped up and down, his hands– a little smaller– wrapped around Tristan’s waist.
Tristan finally came, James tried to unlatch before– but he was too late. Tristan’s salty seed coming out in ribbons both inside James’ mouth and all over his face.
“Wow, you look adorable. You’re a natural Jamesy.” Tristan huffed out, ruffling James’ slightly lighter hair.
James got up and cuddled up with Tristan, James taking little spoon– craving the protection of a bigger man. Lusting to be dominated, protected.
—
As the morning came, sunlight shone through the blinds in streaks. As soon as James opened his eyes he found Tristan sitting in an armchair across from him, a cup of coffee in his hand and on the table.
“Goodmorning, how do you feel?”
He was conflicted, but he felt good. James nodded his head.
“You should probably get cleaned up, you still have a bit of me in your hair.”
James blushed again, never has he felt so small– especially with Tristan. James stumbled into the bathroom rubbing his eyes. He didn’t entirely remember last night but that was okay, he just remembered feeling good. Splashing water in his face he felt rejuvenated, his eyes focusing on the mirror as he shrieked– his voice higher pitched.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” His voice was not only higher pitched, but flamboyant. The bro-y tone completely gone.
He looked like him, but there were several things wrong. The first thing he noticed was his hair, although the brown was still there in the roots, it looked like his hair had been bleached overnight. His face was softer, not as square. His body was still muscular, although there was definately less mass now.
Tristan rushed in, “WHAT’S GOING ON”
“I look so..” he couldn’t say it, his mouth wouldn’t budge.
“What’s wrong?”
In the mirror behind him Tristan was now taller, not by much but definitely enough to be noticeable considering he used to be taller than him. James broke down crying, falling onto the floor.
“Hey… it’s okay.” Tristan was confused, not knowing why James was being so emotional. He tried to console him, wrapping his muscular arms around James’ now smaller frame.
—
Across the apartment in James’ pants next to the sofa, a light buzz went unnoticed by the both of them.
1 new message + image attachment from; “Client, Luke”
“Heyyy missin u, excited for our sesh today. c u later cutie <3”
How do you think the AKOTSK men would be with and could you please do headcanons for a female fighter S/O? think black widow typa vibe xxx
hiii it's not my type of plot but I tried my best with those headcanons 🤗 I didn't want to go with the female knight trope since you mentioned black widow and she's more of a spy (?) sorry, I've only seen a few Marvel movies and it was yeeeaaaars ago lol
AERION falls in love instantly. He meets you in Lys where you earn money by being a mercenary. You get paid by noblemen to steal, hurt or even kill if you're asked to do so. You also use your feminine charm to gather useful information and spy on others for money. Aerion knows that nothing awaits him back at home so he doesn't care anymore about noble titles and all that. He wants you as his lover and it doesn't matter if you're a lady or not. He thinks you match each other's freak but you actually out-freak him in every way. And he loves it.
BAELOR would hire you often to deal with his business in King's Landing that he can't personally be involved in to save his reputation. Perhaps you're a bastard daughter of one of the Kingsguards or one of the Small Council lords. Baelor trusts you with every task and you are his eyes and ears around the city. He feels attracted to you – he admires strong women more than anything – however he knows he can't ever marry you or be caught in your bed. Doesn't mean he's not sleeping there some nights...
DAERON meets you at a tavern. Perhaps you save the princeling during a brawl because he is too drunk to stand straight. Just like his younger brother, he falls in love instantly but for different reasons. He doesn't like you because you're a freak but because you're so strong and can protect him. Basically, he's your damsel in distress. Because Daeron doesn't care about titles and nobility that much and they present themselves as burdens, he would be willing to leave his life at Summerhall and hit the road with you as you take different jobs and earn the coin while he's... just there.
DUNK heard about a man who stole something from poor commoners in this one village he was riding past. As a honourable knight that he is, he decides to find the man and teach him a lesson. Only to find out the man is actually a woman and she does that to earn money and survive. Dunk is confused by you but he tries to understand. He feels very intimidated by your presence but he offers you to join him on the road so you don't have to steal and kill for money anymore. He falls in love with you quite fast but tries to hide it. However, he is very obvious because he blushes and stutters a lot around you.
LYONEL saw you at one of his parties. You sneaked in so casually as if you belonged there, only to get rid one of the guests because you were paid to do so. Lyonel's knights caught you and brought you to him but he is impressed and playful instead of punishing you. He is intrigued by you and finds you to be a challenge, which gives him a thrill. He offers you a place at Storm's End by his side (not as a wife of course since you're no lady) and he wishes to be your only customer if he ever needs your spying and fighting skills.
MAEKAR scoffs every time he sees you because he finds you and your big mouth ridiculous. He would never admit it out loud but he admires you. Every time his brother sends for you or hires you to do dirty work for him, Maekar rolls his eyes. But he always offers to visit you himself just to make sure Baelor is not being seen there. And he stays for the night quite often as well. Maekar hates it but he feels very drawn to you and you love to tease him and rail him up as well.
VALARR is scared of you, to be honest. He also thinks you're very "unladylike". But there is no contempt. He basically wishes to save and fix you. He's got that saviour complex. When he meets you – a young girl living on the streets of King's Landing that earns her coin by stealing and fighting, he invites you to the Red Keep and offers you a job as a maid. You become his favourite in no time even though you're the least useful servant in the castle. You rarely follow orders and you steal the silvers to sell them later. He always defends you. You're also the one to teach him about pleasure and you're the first person he goes to if he needs advice.
Warnings: Typical yandere stuff, fratricide, royal sexism, arranged marriage (no smut for once!)
A/N: Heavily inspired by the brothers in Stardust, feel free to request stuff for these two while I write the fic with the demon.
It's unfair, but you can't say you're suprised. As a lady of the court and the princess no less, you knew a day would come when your father would push for your marriage, whether or not you felt ready. Your mother, kind and sweet, was beloved by the kingdom and her husband, but when she passed, your father began to worry amidst his grief. He had planned to listen to your mother and allow you to choose a husband you loved, but the sudden reality of his kingdoms situation suddenly came crashing down onto him. He didn't know if he could rule without her, or how much longer time on earth he even had. Therefore, preperations were made, and invitations sent out to neighboring kingdoms. After a rigourous process of examination, two suitors have made it to the top. From the kingdom of Lineus, Prince Secundus and his brother and Prince Octavian.
Lineus was a powerhouse, both of military and industry, so your fathers draw towards ana lliance of marriage was no suprise, no to mention the kingdom was in need of a leader, as the queen of Lineus had recently abdicated. What you could not get past, was the kingdoms customs of ascension to the throne. The first king of Lineus was a blood thristy man, a conqueror, and had many children from many women across the realm. However, upon the illness which marred him, he decreed that whichever son wanted the
throne must claim it himself, by any means necessary. Thus began a tradition, of sibling on sibling bloodshed which spanned generations. The last king was killed early on, as a few generations into the tradition someone realized killing the king was a good way to jump start the process. He was found in bed, purple from strangulation, but with posion in his blood, a bump on the head, and a snake bite on his wrist, amogn other ailments. To date, each of his twelve sons had proudly boasted it was surely there attempt that took his life on that fateful night.
After years of sabatoage and danger, only two brothers now remain, and with there dearest mother deciding it was time to step down, it was anyones game.
Secundus was charming and second-born, certainly, a perfect example of a golden child. Second born, he had much to prove, especially as more and more brothers were born. Being born earlier also means the privilege of more parental time and attention in the early years. He's a showpony, boisterous and bright, thoughwith a neediness and fragile ego that rarely shines through. A master fencer and horse rider, he had immediately offered you a choice ride on any of his prized mares, a breed brought over from deserts far away. His wealth and charm had one over your father, bringing him to the top.
Octavian, eight born, was remarkable in a way much like his brother but drivenn by different motivations. When you are younger in a line of homicidal maniacs, you learn to hold your own. The youngest are most at risk, what chance does a baby stand against a vengeful teen? He's smart, frighteningly so. He couldn't defeat his much older and stronger brothers with strength, so he turned to intellect. Trained animals, underground rings of assasins, and a deep interest in all plants posionous and harmful were all trademarks of his kills, less based on brute force and swordplay. Being a middle child, he had a lot of time to himself, especially amongst his twelve brothers. Early on, he decided not to yearn for the affection of his father, to impress and showboat like his elders. No, the king couldn't possibly last long anyways, he would prove himself in the end. He impressed your father with knowledge of your lands. His brother had only managed to answer the first three questions before getting bored threatening the man who handed out the test.
Both brothers, the most evenly tied pair of any in there line, now sit at two ends of a far table, both choosing the take the head of the table seat. Between them, you, nervously fidgeting with the silks of your gowns as you wait for the first course of the evening to be served. The chef, one you've known since childhood, enters.
"Thank you, Luke-Pierre." You smile politely quick to begin eating the crustacean as to take your mind off the tense nature of the evening. The chef smiles, nodding his head in respect. "Of course, my lady. It's lobster, braised in butter and herbs, oregano and a little lemon. Asparagus will come later."
"Exquisite cuisine," Octavian compliments, taking a sip of wine as he savors the food. "One thing I envy your kingdom for my dear, is the seafood. I wish I had spent more time along the coast as a boy, alas, I burn somethign terrible."
"You'dve drowned in the waves of our homelands coast." Secundus snickers, inspecting the fine food with his fork. "With your weak little arms, might've done us all a favor, saved me the trouble." He sends a wink way. "But I agree, fine food. What was your name, chef?" He beckons over Luke-Pierre with a smile.
"Ah, its Luke-Pierre, majesty. It's a high compliment, I hear the food in your land is filled with many wonderful and foreign ingredients!" The man stammers, half honroed and half terrified. Secunudus just tilts his head slightly. "I have to ask though, you seem to have left out an ingredient when you told our lovely hostess about the recipe." You feel the table jolt before you can even process, and gasp as Secundus grabs the servant by his collar, the dining fork now held to his jugular by the golden haired royal. "Yes, seems you left out the ever so subtle hint of posion, a compliment to the butter?" He threatningly presses the metal to the chefs skin, relishing in his squirming. "Tell me, what was the flavor benefit of that?"
"He wouldn't, he's been our chef for years!" You exclaim in horror, both hands out. "And I- I won't have you harming him, please! This is supposed to be a lovely dinner. I know the traditions of your people, but I am begging you to keep it far from me." Your face is pale and eyes pleading. "I beg of you."
The room goes silent, and Secundus looks at the chef, then you, his gaze softening. With a sigh, he drops the chef, waving him off and shoving the tray of food towards him. "Very well, it isn't as if I'm fighting a lowly chef for the throne. And you're right," he puts his hands up in mock surrender. "This evening is supposed to be about you, my lovely lady. I apologize for my outburst, I shouldn't have been so brash. Besides," He takes a sip of the large ale mug before him, a drink more hearty than his brothers. "I doubt he acted alone."
Across the table you glimpse Octavian grinning into his wine glass. "What was it you said earlier? Something about 'taking me out of the way, saving yourself the trouble?' A simple return of the compliment, brother." Octavian jests. Secundus huffs simply huffs. "it's stupid, a simple posioning that smells obvious is below you. And now I have to wait another twenty minutes to eat."
"You'll live." Octavian says, before pausing. "Or preferably, maybe you won't." Secundus sneers are him rasther chilishly. It's unverving, they speak of it like children arguing over dessert or a toy, as if it's normal, casual. Not spilling the blood of family. It makes your stomach churn.
"I want you to know," The black haired prince turns to you, raising his goblet towards you, "I agree completely. My brother, he's brutish, uncouth. He kills for sport, not for duty or a place in line like some of us have to. I agree that it should be kept far, far from an innocent like yourself. As long as I'm here, I'll never hold your servants at fork-point." He coos. "Ah, t-thank you. That... means very much to me, that you care to impress me so." You stammer, a pc answer, one your father would want you to give. "On that subject of keeping the fratricide far from you, could you have a servant come and remove the chandilier from above me? The rope is rather frayed, my brother thinks himself a genius for this childish trap, and I don't feel like moving. I am enjoying the food." He continues to eat nonchalantly, and with a shaky hand you motion for a servant to fetch a ladder.
"I'll have you know it was rather intelligent of me to know where you would sit at the table, you know." Secundus huffs, and Octavian rolls his eyes. "Hardly. You arrived to dinner a half hour early to sit in that exact spot. What was I meant to think you were up to? You're never on time for anything."
As dinner fizzled, you were more than happy to quickly depart from your chambers. Dressed down in your nightgown, a knock at your door grabs your attention. Standing, you open a the door to see a similarily dressed down Secundus, in a rather low cut unbuttoned shirt. "I apologize for that display at dinner," He coos, leaning on the door frame. "He just gets me so riled up. But I should've been focused on you."
"Well, really, its fine. I just... it was a lot. Sort of stressful." You swallow awkwardly, but try to stand up straight. "Its been a long night, so-" You attempt to close the door, only for the man to push his way in. His hand firmly lands on your waist, and he places a kiss on the nape of your neck.
"You just haven't had the chance to see the real me. The charming me, sensitive me. The me inside." He pauses, then grins. "Though I'm sure the me on the outside doesn't disappoint either." He invites himself over to your bed, half sprawling out on the sheets. "So, me. I'm prepared to tell you all my qualifications to be your husband. What would you like to know?"
You really would rather him leave but swallow those nerves. "Well, how do you treat women in your country? We- we have women in power here, and marriage rights." You tilt your head expectantly.
"Of course. We don't traditionally have women inherit the throne, but our mother took over for us when father died... prematurely." He pauses. "Which, I take credit for by the way, but that's neither here nor there!"
Ignoring this, you keep asking. "And your mother, was she ever... at risk?"
"Goodness no! I love my mummy!" He stops, cheeks flushed as he coughs into his hand. "Ah, what I mean is no, as woman don't typically inherit the throne but are treasured, mother was of course of limits. She would love you, I'm sure. She enjoyed strong, inquisitive girls." He holds out a hand, which you reluctantly take. "That brings me to my next point, enjoyment." Warm lips meet your finger tips, making you shiver as he kisses them one by one, a show of sensuous devotion.
"I take a great enjoyment in your company. You are smart, and charitable to your people. Image is much in this world, and your people regard you the way mine regard me! We would be perfect. But I assure you, you could take enjoyment in me too."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean-" You've never heard words so heavy from any lover. "I mean, its not really ladylike for me to talk about that sort of thing."
"And I understand, you don't have to." He nods, but his gaze remains heated. His hands grip your waist. "I am strong, virile. I could give you what no other man could, I would guide you and teach you. If only you would let me show you." He nips at the shell of your ear. "I'll admit, I was something of a flirt before this, but the fire I felt with your beautiful frame pressed to mine on that horse ride is unlike anything I have ever felt." Despite his focus being mainly on sex and reputation, when he pulls away you can see a genuine reverence in his eyes. "I truly believe, given time, you could be the first person I ever truly-"
"Ahem." A creek from the door makes you both pivot your head. The tall, dark haired figure in the door way hides his cold gaze with a hint of amusement. "Surely our dear princess didn't invite us to dinner so you could feel her up like a common tavern girl?" Octavian chuckles lowly.
"Hardly. I was merely conversing with her. Sharing with her my many suitable qualities." Secundus huffs, gently releasing you from his grip. Knees weak from the tension and still reeling from Secundus's advance, you sink onto the mattress.
"Well, seeing as you don't have to many, I'm sure you're done now. I'd like a moment with our dear lady." Octavian shoots him a warning glare, and while his brother would never usually back down, he's confident enough in his display he approaches the door. "Goodnight, princess. I look forward to seeing you again in the morn."
No sooner than he is out the door, Octavian is before you, on one knee, your hand in his own cold one.
"I... suppose you are here to share your qualities as well?" You murmur. He sends you a slight smile, and shakes his head.
"I can get them out quickly, but I confess, I'm not the man many princesses would imagine as the perfect prince. I am quiet, introverted. I cannot fight nor am I physically impressive. But I am smart. I adapt, I learn, and I can rule with you for the kingdoms benefit. You would not be some-some piece of my brothers collection, his lovely pet to show off. You would be an equal." His eyes are earnest. "I know what it is like to feel overlooked, or like a pawn. I was another pawn in my fathers game, slaughter in the name of tradition. And you are much the same, any man could have come in here and made you his bride, you are a lamb to slaughter. But I took charge, I beat expectations and my brothers, and I offer you the chance to do the same."
"I- I appreciate how you relate to me, this is just- all so much." You feel a churning in your stomach. It now settles in what you saw between them, and how they looked at you. Madness. Devotion, but marred with an obsession.
He sighs, bowing his head and nodding as he stands. "Of course. I will be blunt, I'm not here to pin you to your bed and forcefully romance you like my brother. But know this, I will be devoted. It will not be an animalistic joining of bodies, it will not be sex. It will be lovemaking, I will worship you as I wish someone had me when I needed it, and I can only hope you do so in return." In a move opposite of his brothers groping and heated whispers, he places not but a light, chaste kiss upon your cheek. Heading to the door, he smiles, calmer now. "In the morning, i should love to see your palace gardens. I've heard your kingdom has such unique flowers, and I wish to see if they compare to your beauty amidst my research."
With that, he closes the door, and both the feeling of flattery amd weight of the choice you must make and the inevitable bloodshed that will follow mix within you to create an anxiety you are sure will marr your rest.
Helloo, this is like my first request for jjba I'm kinda nervous🥹✌️ I LOVEE YOUR WORK BY THE WAYY!!
Could i pleasee request a fem!reader who's similar to Panty?(From Panty and Stocking🙂↕️) Like the reader is a new member of the Bucci gang and the members getting a crush on the reader hc's? But they are like super ashamed of having a crush on the reader. I'm soo sorry if i couldn't explain it really good but i hope you'll understand me🫡💛
Bucci Gang being ashamed of having a crush on Reader🎀
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summary -> how the bucci gang members would react to having a crush on a reader is lustful, shameless, and arrogant.
characters -> giorno giovanna, bruno bucciarati, leone abbachio, guido mista, narancia ghirga, pannacotta fugo.
rating -> SFW.
notes -> guys my tumblr tweaked out and all of my asks got deleted 😔 i have this one since it’s saved as a draft but i need more pls!🙏 i hope this is okay for you🎀🎀
wc -> 1.2k.
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Giorno:
˙⋆✮ you couldn’t be further from giorno’s type in women. he likes them elegant and well dressed, eager to hear about his life stories and perhaps maybe even a little unaware of his skills that charm the ladies. however, the moment he saw how competitive you were and how fiercely protective you are in battles when fighting for the gang, he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore you for long.
˙⋆✮ he always thought he’d be with someone who would obediently listen to his devise for a plan, but when he saw how you’d argue back against his ideas and even try to offer better ones, he realised that this was much more enjoyable than plainly listing out a plan to someone who wouldn’t even be involved.
˙⋆✮ despite the ongrowing force pulling him towards you, he knew that dating someone from the same gang would only make things worse if anything were to turn sour. he didn’t necessarily feel bad for liking you, since you clearly wanted to be liked due to the skimpy red outfits you always wore, but he did feel guilt for the fact that you were a new member of the gang and already being chased after.
˙⋆✮ i would say that giorno would wait to ask you out until either he finished his mission of being capo, or you found out he liked you and had to force the rest of the gang to get him to ask you out yourself.
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Bucciarati:
˙⋆✮ now when i tell you this poor guy would’ve been SO ashamed of himself when he realised that he’d fallen for you. when he first met you, all he wanted to do was protect you from any and all harm in the world. but once he’d trained you up and saw how confident and prideful you were in the work that you’d learnt from him, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to ever fight the growing admiration in his chest.
˙⋆✮ only it wasn’t just admiration, the satisfaction from seeing how silky smooth your body moved in those adorable yet revealing outfits you wore didn’t help to diminish the feelings he had for you, which in turn only made him feel even guiltier for being attracted to you.
˙⋆✮ after knowing what you’d been through and personally recruiting you into the gang, he didn’t want you to feel as if the only reason he’d welcomed you in was due to his ongrowing affection towards you.
˙⋆✮ although, in the end none of that would’ve mattered to you, since despite his guilt in fancying you for so long, he still asked you out in the most romantic way possible through expensive dinner in your favourite restaurant.
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Mista:
˙⋆✮ at first this guy would not give a FUCK. after a couple days of you being in the gang, he was talking to narancia and giorno about how much of an asset you will be to this team due to your strong-willed nature. he, however, only had one thing on his mind. before he even processed how his words would come out, he blurted “yea, and she’s fit as fuck.”
˙⋆✮ he didn’t know about your lustful side at the time, and once he’d discovered it that didn’t do anything to stop him either. the only thing that switched his opinion was the rest of the gang putting him off the idea of you two being together and making him feel ashamed for ever liking you in the first place.
˙⋆✮ and so, every time he thought about you all he could remember was how the gang said he’d let the team down, as you were so cherished in the gang which meant that the others would do anything to keep you away from mista’s prying hands.
˙⋆✮ i mean, it’s not his fault you’re so gorgeous??
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Narancia:
˙⋆✮ the moment he saw you he almost dropped dead. he tells himself that it was love at first sight, but he obviously only tells the rest of the gang how much you benefit the group and how he respects that you’ve joined along with them.
˙⋆✮ at night he rocks himself to sleep through the constant aching need to be around you all the time, catching himself multiple times having to physically tie one arm to the bed because he’s convinced that his body would sleep walk to your room.
˙⋆✮ every time he sees you it’s a mixture of fireworks in his stomach, but also deep guilt. he doesn’t want to like you, since you’ve always been such a good friend to him, but he just can’t shake the feeling of how much he just wants to run his fingers through your hair or hold you until his hands go numb.
˙⋆✮ he knows he shouldn’t like you, but despite that he still always makes sure that he’s sat next to you in the smallest cars possible so he gets a chance to be pressed up next to you, or walks inhumanly close to you since his body betrays himself and always bumps shoulders with you.
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Abbachio:
˙⋆✮ he possibly feels the most guilty of them all. he claims that he’s never felt stronger feelings for anyone before, and often confides in bruno about what to do, since he’s the only one he can fully open up to. despite bruno’s words of encouragement, he still just can’t budge the growing feeling that he’d just ruin you with his short temper and intimidating personality.
˙⋆✮ when abbachio likes someone, he tries not to. which is what he found out the hard way. when you are speaking to him with those fluttering lashes and deep eye contact, it stirs something so unnatural in him that it contrasts with his guilt that just makes him come across as such a bitch.
˙⋆✮ he’d be surprised if you still liked him as a friend after some of the things he’s said to you, never once even daring to compliment your fighting and of course uses every insult under the sun against your stand. he just doesn’t want you to find out how he truly feels, and his way of coping is just to push you further and further away.
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Fygo:
˙⋆✮ oh he is so close to scratching down the walls every single time he thinks about you. he knows that you can’t be together because of his terrible anger that has ruined relationships before, but for some reason that doesn’t scare you away.
˙⋆✮ despite that, he feels so guilty for being possessive over you in front of the gang as he just thinks that he’s hogging you from everyone else, understanding full well that you’d never like someone like him.
˙⋆✮ but the guy just can’t help himself. he will make some romantic gesture and then instantly return home and beat himself up about how stupid he was.
˙⋆✮ not like that stops him either.. because he’ll do the same thing again tomorrow..
SUM. : you suddenly gain a boyfriend after a beautiful but annoying creep flirts with you
TAGS : barista remus ; cafe regular reader ; modern au ; muggle au ; fluff ; very fluffy ; everyone loves hot chocolate ; remus makes great hot chocolate ; protective remus ; secret pining ; creepy but beautiful stranger
LENGTH : 1.4k
NAVI. | MORE REMUS
You’re a regular at a coffee shop that serves a variety of blends, so much so that the air almost always smells of ground coffee and is only slightly entwined with the sweetness of baked goods. However, you weren’t a regular for their coffee or treats, you were a regular for their hot chocolate, made by a specific barista.
“Hello again,” Remus (the barista in question) greets fondly as you come up to the counter, ready to order. He’s a tall brunette with a gorgeous smile and a talent for making hot chocolate. “The usual?”
“Only if it’s you’re making it, Remus,” you chirp, smiling up at him as he chuckles—it still astounds you that you’ve become such a regular customer that you’re comfortable calling him by name. You note the incredible length of his lashes as they brush against his cheekbone and admire the faded scar marking his jawline. He’s the perfect model-looking-barista archetype that pulls in customers with a simple glance, and you’re embarrassed to admit that you were one such weak-willed individual: shyly stepping into the cafe for the first time without anything in mind to order until he suggested the hot chocolate, and you were hooked ever since.
“Of course, I wouldn’t let anyone else touch your hot chocolate, love.” It makes your heart flutter every time he calls you that fond endearment, and you’re sure he knows it too—he probably calls all the lady customers by that name. But no matter what you tell yourself, you weren’t just there for the hot chocolate… “Would you be interested in a sweet treat to go with it this time? Everything’s baked fresh,” he gestures to the array of baked goodies on display, and you try not to drool at the selection openly. Remus has made this offer so often that you don’t think it’s simply him trying to generate more profit for the cafe anymore. But because of his consistent assertions and soft eyes, you finally cave, worn down like the cliff edge by the ocean, sending you crumbling down and into its depths. “I’ll make sure to give you a discount.”
“Alright, alright.” Side-stepping, you lean over to inspect the display case and the delicious array of treats it holds. “It’s kind of a hard choice…”
Remus laughs and nods in understanding, “I don’t blame you. Please take your time, it’s a slow hour.”
Despite his reassurance, you continue to struggle and soon get anxious over not having made your pick yet. “Do you have any recommendations?”
“Of course!” Stepping away from the coffee machines he preoccupied himself with, Remus gestures to his personal picks, “If you want to satiate that sweet tooth more, you can’t go wrong with our chocolate chip cookies. But if you want something a little less sweet to go with your hot chocolate, our all-butter shortbreads are also a good choice.” With his help, you’re finally able to choose and watch as he selects the biggest, most delectable-looking one in the display—you try not to smile too hard at that; he’s the sweetest. “I’ll have your hot chocolate ready for you soon, love.” Not only did he give you a discount, but he didn’t charge you a single penny.
“Thank you so much, Remus.” He sends you away with a charming smile and your plated treat. When you eventually choose a window seat, you decide to wait until your hot chocolate is done to indulge in your snack pairing and take to observing the city scene outside.
With a sigh of gratitude, you quietly thank the cafe walls for providing you with such peace. This has become such a safe corner for you in the city that you couldn’t believe you survived so long without it. And it was all thanks to glimpsing Remus’ gorgeous face and sweet nature by chance. The memory made you want to giggle, but you’re soon pulled from such thoughts by the obnoxious clearing of a throat beside you.
When you turn, you find the source to be the most annoying man you’ve ever met, already introducing himself and quickly beginning to ramble obnoxiously. (What did he say his name was?) He had an ethereal type of beauty with his pale skin, grey eyes and midnight-black hair, dressed in leather like a biker from the 80s, but with a voice that itched your brain in the worst way possible. Was he trying to flirt with you?
“I’m sorry?” you ask, just to be polite and also to test if this guy was being serious or not about his brazen behaviour.
“Oh, don’t be sorry, dollface~” he leans in uncomfortably close, “I know I’m a looker, so there’s no need to be shy, you can look at me all you want—all day long if you must.” The stranger flutters his lashes at you, and you swear that you have the most confused and aghast expression on your face. You’re staring at him like he’s grown two extra heads, but he doesn’t stop and continues with his ‘flirting’. “Anyway~ I’m a looker and you’re a looker, why don’t we be lookers together and go for a date?” he wiggles his brows with a smug smirk on his lips, and you try your best not to gag, giving him enough breathing room to continue without an answer. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Before you could respond and politely try to shoo him away, a dark, coarse and almost familiar voice answers for you from where it looms over your figure, “Yes, she does,” Blinking in surprise, your voice gets stuck in your throat with your breath when you look over your shoulder and up to find Remus with a menacing look on his face, one that you couldn’t believe he was capable of ever expressing.
“You’re her—”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Remus reaffirms matter-of-factly, and you try to pretend that your face doesn’t feel like it’s suddenly been set on fire as he turns his icy glare from the stranger and onto you. The instant his eyes met yours, Remus was back to his kind and gentle self, with an additional warmth in his gaze as he placed your hot chocolate on the table in front of you. “Here’s your hot chocolate, my love.” He gently presses his nose against your hair and allows his lips to lightly brush against your temple. “I’m sorry it took so long…I had to redo it.” You don’t know what happened—still spiralling from the dreamy scene happening around you—but the creepy man dressed in leather quickly scampers off.
Breathing a heavy sigh, Remus sinks into the unoccupied chair next to you. “Th-thanks for that Rem–” to your embarrassment, despite the justified reaction, you let out a small yelp when the barista in question takes the leg of your seat and pulls you closer, his thighs spread apart so you could be as close as possible. When your head was a few inches from his chin, he dropped his forehead onto your shoulder.
“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable…”
You wait until your heart rate slows to a normal pace before answering, smiling softly at his considerateness, “I wasn’t uncomfortable at all, not by you at least. Thank you for saving me, Remus.” It was quite adorable how soft he had become, nuzzling into your shoulder to apologise. You couldn’t help but think that he was like an affectionate dog trying to act sweet to express its regret, which you were very weakhearted for. Unable to help yourself, your hand comes up to gently comb through his hair—you can’t believe how soft it is!
“No. I didn’t save you.”
“What do you mean?”
“...You have to deal with me now…”
OUTTAKE :
“Remus was so mean, Jamie! And after the sacrifice I took for him!” Sirius whines as James rolls his eyes and shares an amused look with Lily, who sips at her tea while his arm slings over the back of the sofa behind her. “I was only trying to get him together with his lady! It was a success, but I can’t believe that this is the ‘thanks’ I get! Me! The perfect wingman, but glared at, like I’m some sort of villain!”
“Perfect wingman, more like perfect creep—”
“Not you too, James!” Sirius shouts, the agony rich in his voice and falls back into his loveseat dramatically, as if struck by an arrow, “I can’t believe you would mock my genius acting like that!”
“Get over yourself, Sirius.” Lily comments, hiding her smirk behind the lip of her teacup. “What matters is that Remus is finally with his favourite regular.”
“Yeah~ Get over yourself, Sirius~” James teases mockingly, narrowing his eyes at his friend, still smirking in amusement before he drops the jeering facade. “Moony’s with his lady now, ain’t he? He’ll stop giving you the silent treatment soon enough”
Sirius huffs, arms crossed, “I never get any praise around here! A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice!”
NAVI. | MORE REMUS
A/N : god...i missed writing for sirius XD and remus and james too of course! it's been a while since I've written a timestamp but i hope you darlings enjoyed the read hehe~
