#I didn’t realize that an ask came in since I was studying for a test srry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seumyo · 4 months ago

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I WANT TO BE FOREVER YOUNG

PROMPT. How they mourn when you were gone too soon. You did worry about getting old, didn’t you?

FEATURING. Midoriya I., Bakugou K., Todoroki S., Shinsou H.

NOTE. I’m testing the waters with angst content + formatting style for multiple drabbles—so forgive me if it’s not that good!

MIDORIYA IZUKU — Sees you in someone else.

Midoriya Izuku found passion in teaching. It’s a life-changing job that molds each and every student into the person they want to become with the help of people like him.

His students, vibrant and full of life, were so much like his old classmates—and among them was Takashiro Ayane, her laughter light and melodic as she teased one of her friends about their clumsy landing during training.

It reminded him of someone. Someone close.

You.

And the thought always came to him, even when he didn’t mean to. Even at the most random times.

Ayane’s resemblance to you was uncanny. It wasn’t just her kindness or the gentle way she spoke; it was in the way she held herself, her subtle but unwavering resolve. Midoriya could see flashes of you in her—the friend who had once been a constant source of warmth in his turbulent journey at U.A. High.

As Ayane reached up to adjust her headband, smiling brightly, Midoriya felt a pang in his chest. The sight was like a memory brought to life, a reminder of your soft-spoken encouragement and the way you always stood firm despite your fears.

God, it felt like seeing you all over again.

“Sensei!” another student called out, pulling him back to the present. “Did you see that move? I think it might actually work in combat! Or support, if I feel like it.”

Midoriya blinked, shaking off the haze of memories. “Y-Yeah, it looked great!” he replied, mustering enthusiasm. “Your timing’s improving a lot—keep it up!”

He tried to push the thought aside, focusing on the here and now, but it was no use. The resemblance was too striking, and his heart felt heavy with the weight of unspoken grief. You were gone, after all. Gone too soon.

As the students broke into laughter again, something about the carefree sound and the dynamic of his students triggered a reflex. Without thinking, he spoke, his voice soft yet audible enough to be heard.

“[First Name], I—”

Your name left his lips before he realized it, and the world seemed to freeze. The students fell silent, their laughter replaced by curious stares. Ayane tilted her head; confusion could be seen in her face.

Midoriya’s heart sank as he realized his mistake. He quickly forced a smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean Takashiro,” he corrected, craning a hand to the back of his neck.

“Sorry about that. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

The students exchanged glances, a few offering polite chuckles before moving on. The moment passed, yet for Midoriya, the weight of it lingered. He stayed behind as the students began their walk back to the main building, his gaze fixed on the ground.

Everything came flooding in his mind. Like a relentless tide that swept him away. Your jokes, your laugh, and the countless little moments that had defined your friendship.

He hadn’t spoken your name aloud in years, not since your passing. Now, saying it felt like reopening an old wound, one he had carefully avoided for so long. But he could only do so much avoidance ‘til he has to come to terms with it.

“Sensei?”

The gentle voice startled him, and he looked up to see Ayane standing a few steps away. Her expression was concerned; her head tilted slightly as she studied him.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. “You seemed... distracted earlier.”

Midoriya hesitated. The words caught in his throat as he wrestled with how to respond. How could he explain to his student that she reminded him of his dead friend?

What kind of teacher would he be if he were to say that? The awful, grieving kind, he bets.

“I’m fine, Takashiro,” he said finally, forcing a smile. “Just a little tired, that’s all. You know how these long training sessions can be.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded anyway. “If you ever need to talk, Sensei... we’re here for you too. Fighting!”

“Midoriya, grow a spine! Fighting!”

Her words hit too close to home.

“Thank you,” he could only murmur.

Ayane lingered for a moment before turning to join her classmates. He remained there, rooted to the spot as the sun began to dip lower in the sky. The golden light bathed the empty training grounds, and the silence felt heavier than usual.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve tried to move on, but I see you everywhere. In everything. In everyone.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, a mix of regret and longing washing over him. “You were right about so many things,” he continued, his voice barely audible. “I just wish you were here to see it—to see how far we’ve all come.”

But you weren’t here anymore, and that’s the problem.

Bakugou Katsuki — Mourns you longer than he’d known you.

Cemeteries never brought discomfort to Bakugou. Not until you died, that is.

The place stretches out in solemn silence; the faint rustle of leaves in the hedges are the only sounds he heard as he trudged along the familiar gravel path. His boots made dull, deliberate crunches against the fallen leaves, the heaviness of his steps matching the weight in his chest.

In his hands, he carried the usual offerings: a bouquet of red spider lilies tied neatly with a ribbon, a box of your favorite sweet treats—melon pan today—and the incense sticks he always lit with care. It had been years since your passing, but for Bakugou, the loss felt as raw as if it had been yesterday.

He approached your gravestone, its surface polished and pristine, just as he always left it. Your name was etched into the stone with delicate precision, the sight of it both grounding and crushing. As if to remind him that you weren’t coming back because you’re just here, waiting for someone to visit you.

Bakugou knelt, his movements stiff and reluctant, as though even now he couldn’t fully accept your absence. Why can’t he accept it?

“Yo, dummy,” he muttered under his breath, pulling the lilies from their wrapping and placing them carefully at the vase near the gravestone. He adjusted them twice, three times, until they looked just right. His eyes lingered on the name etched into the cold stone, a bitterness creeping into his tone.

“Brought your damn flowers again. Hope you appreciate it.”

The sarcasm in his words was thinly veiled; beneath it lay the unmistakable ache of someone who had loved and lost far too deeply.

He pulled out the incense sticks next, lighting them with a practiced flick beneath his palm. You would’ve loved to see him do it in person; maybe light up a candle or two when the power goes out during your high school dorm days. The smell of sandalwood quickly mingled with the damp earth, and Bakugou leaned back on his heels, staring at the curling smoke.

“Another week down,” he began, his voice quieter now. “Another round of saving people, making headlines, being the ‘Great Dynamight.’ ” He spat the title out like it was poison.

“It’s what you always said I’d do, isn’t it? Go big; make my mark. But, damn it, [Last Name], none of it means anything without you here to see it.”

He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as the familiar wave of guilt and frustration washed over him. His head dipped as he let out a long, ragged breath.

“I thought time was supposed to make this easier,” Bakugou admitted, his voice rough. “It’s been... what? Seven years now? And every damn day, it still feels like you’re just gonna show up out of nowhere, like you’re gonna annoy the hell outta me with one of your stupid jokes.”

The thought made his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile, though it was laced with sadness. He could almost hear your voice—that gentle yet persistent tone you’d use whenever you tried to drag him along to something.

“C’mon, Bakugou, I’ll need someone to bail me out of jail! You’ll regret it if you don’t come along.”

And you were right. He regretted it now. Every single refusal, every grumbled excuse, every moment he could’ve spent with you and didn’t.

“You were annoying as hell,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But you were... you were good. Too good.” His fists loosened, his hands falling limply to his sides.

“And you didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to go like that.” Bakugou remembers the time he almost stained his conduct by almost killing the villain that got to you.

It’s unfair, isn’t it? The villain got to live behind bars, while you lost yours.

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the trees above. Bakugou tilted his head back, glaring up at the overcast sky as though it were to blame for everything.

“They don’t tell you how much it fucking hurts,” he said bitterly. “To lose someone like you. They don’t tell you that the longer it’s been, the harder it gets, ‘cause every year just reminds me of how much more I’ve missed. How much quicker I could’ve been.”

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small, weathered notebook. It was yours, something your family had found amongst your belongings after you passed. They wanted him to have it since his name was always frequently mentioned. The edges were frayed, the pages creased from countless readings, but it was his most treasured possession.

Bakugou would rather die than even let a single drop of water meet one of its pages.

Flipping it open, he scanned your handwriting, some neat and some looking as though you couldn’t be bothered with basic penmanship. He stopped on a page that always gutted him.

Life’s short. Spend it with the people who matter. Don’t let moments slip away! :P

His thumb brushed over the words, his jaw tightening.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “You don’t have to keep reminding me, you know. I get it. Too late, but I get it.”

He placed the notebook on the gravestone, letting it rest there for a moment before tucking it back into his pocket. His hand lingered on the cold stone, his fingers tracing the engraved letters of your name.

“You were supposed to stick around,” he said softly. “Supposed to keep bugging me, keep dragging me out of my own damn head. Now I’m stuck here, talking to a rock, and it’s not the same. It’ll never be the same.”

The clouds began to part, a faint beam of sunlight breaking through and casting a soft glow over the gravestone. Bakugou stared at it, his eyes unreadable. He’s thinking.

“I’ll keep coming back,” he finally said, his voice steadier now.

“Every week, every month, every damn year. You’re not gonna be forgotten. Not by me.”

He stood slowly, his body heavy with exhaustion and grief. Adjusting the incense sticks and flowers one last time, he stepped back, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“See you next time, dummy,” he murmured, his voice low. “Don’t forget about me or whatever, wherever you are.”

As Bakugou walked away, the wind carried the faint scent of incense and the quiet promise of a man who would mourn you longer than he’d ever known you.

TODOROKI SHOUTO — Learns things that reminded him of you.

Todoroki knows that he’s been busy. It’s in the way the white camellias he brought you months ago are now wilted, showing their dried-up state. His fingers brush against the wilted petals, lingering as if to apologize for not visiting sooner.

“I still remember the last thing you said to me,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with an ache he couldn’t quite put into words. “It wasn’t even anything serious—just you scolding me for not eating enough during lunch. You were always so good at taking care of me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

He glanced down, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint, bittersweet smile. The image of you—scolding, your hands on your hips as you tried to hide your worry—was etched so vividly into his memory that he could almost hear your voice.

Todoroki’s gaze traveled to the offerings he had brought with him: a fresh bouquet of camellia, a neatly folded scarf he had knitted in one of his new hobbies that he took up classes for, and a small pack of your favorite matcha-flavored sweets. “I know you’d laugh at me for picking up knitting,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But... it’s calming. I think you’d appreciate that. You always said I needed to find something that made me happy outside of being a hero.”

The scarf was simple, a pale green color that reminded him of the shade you loved wearing. He had spent hours perfecting it, thinking of how you might have joked about him for being so precise yet ultimately praised his effort.

“I hope you’d like it,” he whispered, setting it down carefully beside the gravestone. “I thought about giving it to someone else, but it felt wrong. It’s yours.”

Todoroki draws in a breath, closing his eyes, letting the stillness of the place envelop him. Yet in the quiet, his mind raced with so many thoughts all at once.

“I also learned how to cook,” he tells you—he tells your grave. “It’s not as good as yours, but Bakugou’s been helping.”

He thought of your childhood, how you had been his only light during the dark days of his father’s strict training. How you had been this bubbly girl that the teacher often praised, how you had stood by him when he was still new to making friends at the nursery, offering him a hand when he thought he didn’t deserve one.

“You were the best person I knew. And I pushed you away. You didn’t deserve that, [Last Name]. You were my friend when I didn’t know how to be one back.”

The pain of those words hung heavy in the air, and Todoroki’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had spent years replaying your interactions, wishing he had done things differently. If he had done things differently, you would’ve been here, probably teasing him for taking up chopstick-making classes.

“I was so angry back then,” he confessed, his gaze fixed on the gravestone. “At my father, at myself, at the world. And I took it out on you, the one person who never stopped trying to help me. I told myself I didn’t need anyone, but... I needed you.”

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and he hastily wiped it away, frustrated by the way his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He was the Number Two Hero now, a symbol of strength and perseverance. Yet here, in front of you, he felt like the lost, broken little boy that longed for his first friend.

“I need you now, please.”

The sound of a bird chirping nearby pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced up at the sky. The sun was setting, casting a hue that reminded him of your warmth.

You did like sunsets, didn’t you?

“You’d probably scold me for crying,” he said with a faint chuckle, though his voice still wavered. “You always hated seeing me upset. But I think it’s okay this time. You’re worth crying over.”

He knelt down again, his fingers brushing over the engraved letters of your name.

“Shoucchan! You can’t cry! We can be partners—the best partners!”

Yes, partners. The best partners for as long as you’ll have him.

“I’m trying to live the way you wanted me to,” he continued. “To find happiness outside of being a hero. To be someone you’d be proud of. But it’s hard, [Last Name]. It’s hard without you.”

He stayed there for what felt like hours, speaking to you as though you were sitting beside him, as though your gentle presence could somehow reach across the veil of death. He told you about his hero work, about the classes he was taking, about the little moments of joy he tried to find in a life that often felt too heavy.

Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he rose to his feet. His knees ached from kneeling for so long, but he barely noticed.

“I’ll come back,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the tears that still shimmered in his eyes. “And I won’t let you wait so long again. Next time, I’ll bring something better than just a flower. Maybe one of those awful paintings you always said I should make.”

As he turned to leave, he hesitated, glancing back at the gravestone one last time. As if you’d be there with open arms, waiting for him.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the words carrying a weight that only you could understand.

He walked away slowly, the sound of his footsteps fading into the stillness. The cemetery grew quiet once more, the only reminder of his visit the small offerings left behind—silent testaments to a bond that even death could not sever.

SHINSOU HITOSHI — Avoidance by all means necessary, until he finally caves in.

If you were to ask Shinsou what his prized possession was, he’ll tell you that it’s a shoe box. A shoe box that seemed to hold the world—your world, with remnants of a friendship that had lasted his entire life—a lifetime with you.

Shinsou sat on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands hovering over the box as though touching it might shatter him. He had been avoiding this moment for weeks. The funeral had been a blur, the condolences—a cacophony of words that didn’t mean anything because he knew that they couldn’t possibly understand how it feels. Everyone seemed to know the right things to say, except him.

All he had wanted was for you to be there, to laugh at how awkward he was with the whole ordeal.

Now, it was just silence.

With a deep breath, he finally reached into the box, pulling out the first item: a knitted scarf, a rich shade of violet. It was slightly uneven, the handiwork amateur at best, but it was one of the first gifts you’d ever made for him. He could still remember your smile when you handed it over during your middle school years.

“I thought it’d look good on you,” you had said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Don’t laugh! It’s my first try. Nuh uh, I’m taking this back—Hitoshi!”

He hadn’t laughed. Ok, maybe just a quiet chuckle, but he had worn it every winter since.

He leaned forward again, staring into the box. Inside were the tokens of a life intertwined with his—handmade crafts, small souvenirs, and letters tied with ribbons in colors you knew he liked. Each item was a story, a piece of you you had given him, never expecting you would be taken away so soon.

He gently picked up a small ceramic cat figurine, its paint slightly chipped. It was from one of your family trips abroad.

“I saw this and thought of you!”

Younger Shinsou blinked, confused.

“Me?”

You nodded. “You’re like this cat. All serious, but secretly soft and comforting.”

Shinsou chuckled softly at the memory, though the sound was tinged with sadness. He had teased you for it back then, calling it tacky, but it had ended up on his desk at home. Now, it felt like a sacred relic.

Setting the figurine down, he reached for another item. Shinsou pulled out a small, framed photo of the two of you at a summer festival. He was scowling at the camera while you grinned beside him, holding up two sticks of cotton candy. It was one of the rare times you had dragged him out, insisting he needed to “experience life beyond his walls” when he just wanted to sleep in.

He’d go to every summer festival in the country—even if it meant losing sleep—as long as he gets to do it with you.

The frame trembled slightly in his grip as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

He pulls out a well-worn journal. It was yours. He hesitated, knowing that opening it would feel both comforting and unbearably painful. After a moment, he gave in, flipping through the pages.

Inside were your thoughts—notes about school, sketches of the two of them, and half-finished poems you had written during quiet afternoons.

The prince has been so stressed lately.

I wish I could take it all away.

He deserves the world, but he won’t let himself believe it.

Maybe one day he’ll see himself the way I do.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. You had always been like that—putting everyone else first, even when you had your own struggles. He closed the journal and held it to his chest, his breath shaky.

“I should’ve told you,” he whispered. “I should’ve told you how much you meant to me.”

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled over, sliding down his cheeks as he sat there in the coming twilight. He thought back to the nights they had spent stargazing, sharing their dreams and fears. You had been his constant, his answer, his light, even when he didn’t know he needed one.

His phone buzzed again, a reminder that the world kept moving even when his had stopped. He glanced at the screen—it was a message from his secretary.

Meeting tomorrow at 9, Sir. You told me to remind you.

Shinsou scoffed bitterly, tossing the phone aside. Work didn’t matter right now. Nothing did.

He looked back into the box and pulled out a small, intricately folded paper crane. He had almost forgotten about it. It was from your high school years, during a particularly tough exam season.

“This is for luck,” you had said, carefully handing it to him with an awed expression. “And if it doesn’t work, at least it’s cute, right?”

He remembered stuffing it into his pocket, too embarrassed to admit how much it meant to him at the time. Now, it felt like a lifeline.

As he unfolded the crane carefully, a note inside revealed itself. The ink was slightly faded, but your handwriting was unmistakable.

You’re going to be amazing. Always.

A choked sob escaped him, and he clenched the note tightly in his fist. You had believed in him, even when he hadn’t believed in himself. He wished he could’ve seen this sooner.

When it got dark, Shinsou didn’t bother turning on the lights. The silence felt appropriate—a space for his grief to exist without judgment.

“I miss you,” he confessed, his voice trembling. “I don’t even know how to keep going without you.”

He glanced at the small collection of gifts and letters spread out on the table. Each one was a reminder of the life you two had shared—a life you had enriched with your thoughtfulness and love.

Though the pain was overwhelming, Shinsou knew he couldn’t let your memory fade. You had given him so much, and the least he could do was honor you by living the way you would have wanted—fully and without regret.

“I’ll keep going,” he said softly, almost as if speaking to you. “You’d probably get mad if I slept in.”

The room remained quiet, save for the faint sound of the wind outside. But for Shinsou, it felt as though you were still there, your presence lingering in every corner of his heart.

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pomelace · 25 days ago

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a piece of sweetness

pairing: frank langdon x afab!intern reader

content warnings: no physical desciptors used for reader, reader is an intern, doesn't take place during the shows timeline, emotional distress and grief, guilt, vulnerability, little bit of angst, patient death, let me know if I missed anything!

magui speaks! : this is dedicated to anon who asked for more langdon fics. thank you for the request! this is part 2 of mouse and the redbull, part 3 will be out soon. I wrote this rather than study for my chem exam, so call me dedicated. as always, I hope you enjoy, and requests are always open.

word count: 2436

It's been weeks since the Red Bull. Weeks of long shifts and caffeine-stained charts, of you silently handing him pen lights and IV kits before he even asks. You're still the same—quiet, precise, invisible to most—but not to Frank.

He notices everything.

The way you tuck your pen behind your ear when you're focused.

The way you always triple-check every patient's med list.

The way you look up at him when you're unsure—but never ask.

He doesn’t say anything. He never does.

Words were never necessary with him.

Which is why it catches you off guard when Dr. Robby corners you before rounds, his voice too casual to mean nothing.

“You’re with me today,” he says, hands tucked into the pockets of his worn sweater.

You blink. “I’m usually with Dr. Langdon.”

“I know,” he replies, eyes already scanning his notes. “But you’ve been glued to him for weeks. Time to mix it up. Get to know the rest of us. Frank’s overdue to teach someone else anyway.”

You nod—because that’s what you do. But something settles heavy in your chest as you take your place among the others.

Frank doesn’t say anything when you fall in next to him. Just glances over—quick, unreadable—and then turns back to Dr. Robby as he launches into the morning briefing.

Maybe words were never necessary.

But this silence feels different. Louder. Sharper around the edges.

You half expect him to lean in, to say something under his breath—I’ll talk to Robby, or You’ll be back tomorrow—but he doesn’t.

He just lets the space stretch between you, like it means nothing at all.

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

Robby is patient.

He moves like he’s got fire in his lungs—sharp, deliberate, always ten steps ahead. He commands a room with a single glance, and somehow still finds time to teach you between traumas.

“Now I see why Frank kept you all to himself,” he said, showing you how to crack a chest like he’d done it a hundred times in his sleep

You learn a lot with him. He makes sure of it. But still—you’re always a half-second behind. Reacting instead of anticipating. You miss the rhythm you had with Frank, the silent sync only the two of you seemed to share.

You don’t realize how deeply you’ve adapted to him until you have to unlearn it.

When Robby asks for a kit, your hands stall. You hesitate—just long enough to feel it.

You’re not sure which one he means.

Frank wouldn’t have had to ask.

Robby doesn’t notice the pause—or if he does, he doesn’t say anything. He just points and keeps going, his voice calm but clipped, already three steps ahead again.

You hand him the right kit. Eventually. But the moment sticks with you.

With Frank, it was different. There were no words, just glances and gestures, and somehow you always knew what came next. He never needed to explain. You were in sync.

Now, every command feels like a test. Every silence feels like something you’re supposed to fill. You push through it. Robby is kind, in his own brisk way. He teaches well. He even smiles sometimes.

But at the end of the shift, when your scrubs are soaked through and your hands smell like antiseptic, it isn’t him you’re thinking about.

It was Frank.

And how, for the first time in weeks, he hadn’t even looked at you in the hallway.

You passed him again and again during shifts, but he didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Even when you were forced onto the same case, he moved around you like you weren’t there—focused solely on guiding his new intern, never sparing you so much as a glance.

You tried to ignore it—the tight pull in your stomach, the quiet ache that settled behind your ribs.

But it was there. Growing. Whispering.

Maybe you’d done something wrong.

You never asked. You couldn’t. Every time you stood near him—tried to spark even the smallest conversation—he found a reason to walk away. A clipped excuse, a sudden task, always without looking at you.

Eventually, you stopped trying.

And with time, you began to accept the quiet truth: maybe you’d never work with him again. The thought settled in your chest like something heavy, something final.

Days blurred into weeks. Weeks where your schedule bounced between Dr. Robby and Dr. Collins—never Langdon.

Not once.

You stopped expecting to see him during rounds. Stopped looking for him across the nurses’ station or listening for his voice during consults. You forced yourself to focus on the work—on Robby’s fast-paced cases and Collins’ long-winded lectures about doing the best thing for a patient.

But some habits die harder than others.

You still felt it—his absence. Not just the lack of words, but the missing weight of him at your side. The way you used to anticipate each other without speaking.

It was like losing a limb and learning how to walk again.

And you were having a hard time keeping yourself upright.

You haven’t been yourself today.

It starts with the wrong dosage on a chart—caught just in time, but still. Then a missed page. Then a patient, mid-thirties, chest pain, eyes wide with fear—and you swear you’re doing everything right.

You double-check vitals, repeat the ECG, call for backup, but nothing you do is enough. Minutes later, they code. And you can’t get them back.

It’s not your first loss. But for some reason, this one sits differently in your chest. Low. Heavy. Like wet concrete.

Dr. Robby assures you that there wasn't anything anyone could've done, that the patient was as good as dead the moment they were wheeled into the ER, but no words could help you forget the sound of the flatline.

The rest of the shift spirals after that.

Minor mistakes. Snapped words. You keep moving, but nothing feels like it lands right. It’s like you’re watching yourself from a few feet away, trying to climb back into your own skin and failing.

No one says anything, but you know they notice.

And Frank notices the most.

From the moment you lose your patient, you can feel his eyes on you, though he never approaches. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring confidence or distractions. Instead, he just watches—quietly, from a distance. And in that silence, you realize he sees it.

The cracks in your composure, the raw edges of your mind starting to fray. It’s a subtle thing, but you feel it all the same. He sees you breaking, even when you wish he wouldn’t.

You catch a nurse stealing a glance your way after you mutter a curse under your breath, watching as your coffee turns cold and bitter in your hands.

A resident steps in, offering to take over a case you were already halfway through, his voice too bright, too eager.

You shake your head, brushing him off, but the tension in your shoulders is too tight. You finish it anyway, fingers unsteady as you sign the discharge papers, the ink smearing slightly across the form.

The weight of it lingers in your hands, like a reminder of everything that’s slipping through your fingers.

By the time 9 p.m. rolls around, you've disappeared—found a forgotten stairwell tucked between ICU and radiology, where silence is the only company you’re willing to keep.

You sit on the cold concrete steps, elbows braced on your knees, head cradled in your hands. You're not crying. Not yet. Just still. Just quiet. Just trying to feel something that isn't the hollow static in your skull.

The door creaks open behind you, the sound scraping through the silence.

You don’t move.

The footsteps are slow, deliberate—familiar. You know them without having to look.

“Mouse?”

You don’t lift your head. You don’t even flinch.

He steps closer, hesitant, careful.

“Everyone’s looking for you. Robby thought you left.”

You shake your head, slow and deliberate, keeping your chin tucked low.

“I just needed... a second.”

A long beat of silence. Frank doesn’t answer immediately, and for a moment, you think maybe he’ll leave, or maybe he’ll keep pretending he’s been too busy to notice.

Instead, he lowers himself onto the step beside you. The space between you both is filled with nothing but the distant hum of the hallway, the pounding of your own heart.

“You’ve been off today,” he says quietly. Not a question. Not an accusation. Just a simple observation.

“Rough shift?” he adds, his voice laced with something too close to pity.

It almost sounds absurd—the way he asks, knowing full well the answer. He was there, he saw it all. Watched as you fought, as you tried to save a life only to lose it in the end.

You nod, the movement stiff, like your neck can’t bear the weight of the day. Your breath is shaky, fighting the edge of something sharp and brittle that threatens to break free.

He sits beside you, close enough for you to feel his presence but not so close as to invade. He doesn’t ask you anything else, doesn’t offer words you don’t want.

He just sits. Silent. Watching.

You hate how easy it is for him to be there, like nothing’s wrong, like you’re just two people passing through the same space, when all you want to do is scream.

“I heard about your patient,” he says quietly.

Your throat tightens like a fist around your windpipe.

“You heard about it, or you saw it?” you whisper, your voice frayed. It’s not really a question. You already know the answer.

He doesn’t respond right away. Just sits there, the silence stretching until it almost snaps. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost hoarse.

“I should’ve said something. Back then.”

He hesitates, then adds, “It’s hard… losing a patient. I should’ve—”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you cut in, sharper than you mean to be.

He flinches like he expected it—but it still hits.

The stairwell is cold. Quiet again, except for the hum of a vending machine two floors down and your own heartbeat in your ears.

Frank breathes out slowly. You don’t look at him, but you feel the shift in the air, the way his body curls forward, like he’s trying to close the space between you without touching it.

“I know it doesn’t change anything,” Frank says after a moment, voice low, like he's afraid to disrupt the fragile stillness you've wrapped around yourself.

“But I wanted you to hear it from me.”

You don’t answer. The silence feels safer—less brittle than any words you might try to force past the knot in your throat.

“You did everything you could.”

His voice is soft, careful—like he’s reaching for you with it, like he thinks if he says it gently enough, you might believe him.

Like he wants to cradle the sharp edges of your grief with something that won’t cut.

You shake your head, still staring down at your hands, at the scuffs on your shoes, at the floor that hasn’t moved but somehow still feels like it’s tilting.

“It wasn’t enough.”

He lets out a long, slow breath, his hands clasped loosely between his knees, the pads of his fingers pressing into each other like he needs the grounding.

“Sometimes it isn’t,” he murmurs.

“Even when it should be.”

You nearly flinch at that—almost say, but it still happened. You almost tell him that your hands haven’t stopped shaking since you called time of death, that your brain feels stuffed with cotton, thick and useless, and you can't think clearly enough to even cry.

But nothing comes out.

You just shake your head again, smaller this time.

Frank turns slightly toward you, glancing out of the corner of his eye.

“You have to be kinder to yourself,” he says, and it’s so quietly earnest it almost stings.

You nod, though it’s automatic.

Eventually, you glance at him. He’s not looking at you—just staring straight ahead, his jaw tight, his eyes unfocused like he’s watching something only he can see.

“You’ve lost patients before,” you say, your voice hoarse.

“How do you not let it break you?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh—low, bitter, hollow.

“Who said it doesn’t?”

That silences you. Again.

A minute ticks by. Then he shifts slightly, reaching into the pocket of his jacket. He pulls out a crumpled paper bag and, without a word, sets it gently in your lap.

You blink at it, confused, your fingers hesitating on the edge.

“It’s a cinnamon roll,” he says, like it’s obvious. “From that place you like. Still warm.”

You stare down at it, stunned.

“I didn’t even know you—”

“You mentioned it once,” he says, cutting you off, almost sheepish.

“Weeks ago. Said they don’t dry them out like the cafeteria does.”

Your throat tightens, but it’s different this time—not grief. Something softer, warmer, tugging at your chest.

“I figured… if you weren’t gonna eat or sleep tonight, you should at least have sugar.”

You let out a faint, broken laugh. It doesn’t quite reach your eyes, but it’s real. He nudges your knee gently with his own.

“You’re allowed to be human, mouse. Even the best interns have days like this.”

“Not like this,” you murmur, still staring at the bag in your lap.

He tilts his head, finally meeting your eyes.

“Especially like this.”

You tear open the bag, the scent hitting you instantly—cinnamon, vanilla, that warm yeasty sweetness. You break off a piece and hand it to him wordlessly.

He takes it without hesitation and eats in silence, like this is routine, like sharing a cinnamon roll in a stairwell at the end of the worst day isn’t the most intimate thing you’ve done in weeks.

You sit together for a while like that. Just two tired, wrung-out people in the quiet hollow of a hospital, letting the sugar and the silence do what they can.

Eventually, your voice returns. “Thanks.”

He glances at you, chewing. Swallows.

“For the cinnamon roll?”

You shake your head.

“For finding me.”

He looks at you then. Really looks at you. For a moment longer than necessary.

“You’re my favorite, remember?” he says, voice gentler than you’ve ever heard it.

“I keep track of the things I care about.”

And for a moment, you forget. Forget the coldness he kept between you for weeks, the silence that hung like a heavy curtain.

All you feel is the warmth of the cinnamon roll in your hands, and the quiet tenderness in his voice when he says he cares—about the small things, about you.

©pomelace 2025

#the pitt hbo #the pitt #the pitt x reader #frank langdon #frank langdon x reader #dr langdon x reader #michael robinavitch #patrick ball #I LOVE THIS SERIES SO MUCH ALREADY

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joonjuul · 3 months ago

Note

Hi errmm so I wanna ask if you can make some nerd or shy jimin x yan!reader/bully!reader, I really hope you can consider my request, I would appreciate it if you can make one, cuz some author have been ignoring my request, and thank you so much

test me. pjm

pairing: nerd!jimin x bully!reader

wc: 4.8k

warnings: nerdy!jimin, loser!jimin, subby!jimin, jimin might be a switch, virgin!jimin, experienced!reader, bully!reader, academic rivals, oc is a bitchhh, crazy sexual tension, pwp, public sex, voyeurism, unprotected sex (wrap it up), oral (male receiving), light fingering (f receiving), orgasm denial (jimin receiving hehehehe), some crack

a/n: this took me a while but tysm for the req !!! im weak for subby jimin tbh

╋━

you were curious. you always had been growing up. you saw something that interested you and you immediately had to know more, and he was no different.

he was quiet and timid, could’ve easily been described as your polar opposite. but what was worse was how he constantly had to one-up you in everything he did. i mean sure, you were smart, gunning for valedictorian at what was considered to be a top university in your state, but he was somehow always one step ahead of you.

“whoops!” you say sarcastically as you bump into him in the hallway, knocking his books out of his hands as you watch him struggle to gain his composure, quickly falling to his knees to pick up his belongings.

but what bugged you even more, was that he never gave into your rude comments, the way you pushed him around, laughed at him, teased him in any way you could. he never gave you a reaction, and it drove you absolutely mad.

“didn’t see you there squirt. better pick those books up and get to studying, wouldn’t want me to get a better grade than you on professor jeon’s exam tomorrow.” but he doesn’t even glance in your direction. just shyly retreats down the hall, his hair bouncing in the wind of his quick strides.

you’ve known jimin since high school. you thought you’d escaped him after graduation, but you somehow ended up at the same university as well. it was almost as if he enjoyed your persistent teasing, you had been on him about it for years. since the day he got a 98 on your freshman math midterm and you only got a 92. ever since then, you just continued to get meaner, and meaner, hoping that eventually he’d snap and give up, allow you to take first place, or even better, transfer schools, but he never did.

you walk to the library calmly, carefully picking a quiet corner where you can peacefully get some studying in. this was going to be the one, you thought to yourself as you situated yourself, sprawling your papers and textbooks out on the table. this was going to be the one where i finally win.

and like that, you were off.

your eyes scanned every word in front of you, your hand vigorously jotting down notes and annotations as you soaked up every piece of information like a sponge. everything was falling into place, and even better, professor jeon taught history, and that was your best subject, and just so happened to be jimin’s worst. victory was clear as day.

almost an hour had passed before you realized your mortal enemy was sat only a few tables down from you, the library filled with your intense breathing as you came to the realization that not only had he came into the space undetected by you, but that he was studying for the same reason you were.

your focus is now completely lost, he was in enemy territory, he knew better than to use the library on the north end of campus. it was right next to your dorm and he knew that.

you slam your text book shut, collecting all your belongings in your hands as you stride confidently to his table, loudly dropping everything in front of him before taking a seat.

he looks up quickly, his eyes wide as he watches you sit down before him.

“what’s up study buddy.”

he quickly looks back down, doing his best to keep his composure but you quickly notice his knee bouncing beneath the table.

“nervous for the test tomorrow?” you put on a fake voice, doing your best to sound as nice as possible, which was something you weren’t used to doing. but the bait worked, and you watch as he carefully picks his head back up, his eyes landing on yours, his brows furrowed as if he’s confused why you’re being friendly.

he shrugs, “a little. i’ve never been the best at history.” his voice is quiet, but his body language speaks volumes, he was completely and totally intimidated by you.

“i’m pretty good at history, maybe i could tutor you.” your inflection comes off more teasing than you intended it to, but even so, jimin doesn’t seem to notice, as he carefully processes your proposal.

“what do you want?” he speaks more clearly this time.

“what do you mean?”

“well… you’re being nice to me. and you’re not nice.”

you roll your eyes at his question, “what i can’t be nice to you?”

jimin’s stare increases, not replying as if his lack of response says enough already.

“fine you’re right. i can’t be nice to you. you drive me insane and im gonna need you to stop studying to i can outperform you for once.” you snap, watching as his eyes widen at your words and foul tone.

“if you want out perform me, you’re just gonna have to be better than me.”

your scowl deepens, hatred blossoming within your stomach as you watch him flip a page in his textbook teasingly.

“i am better than you.” you grit through your teeth.

“the grades say otherwise.” his gaze falls to his book again as he continues to flip another page, but you’ve just about had it with his brattiness. you quickly stand up from your seat and lean across the table, closing his book harshly, nearly missing his finger as you watch his eyes snap up to yours in surprise. sure you were a bitch to him, but you’ve never been so close to actually physically hurting him.

“listen you little shit, i’m tired of you thinking you’re better than me. you’re nothing. you might have a slight edge on me academically, but who’s more popular ? who gets invited to the parties ? who balances their social life with being second in the class ? i’d rather be second and have something to live for besides extra credit.” you lean closer to him as you speak, watching as he cowers back in his chair, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips, noting how his hand trembles nervously with every inch closer you get to him.

you chuckle noticing how easily he reacts to you. “i bet this is the closest you’ve ever been to a woman.” your breath is hot against his face as you smile, knowing you’ve finally let out every horrible thing you’ve been keeping in all these years.

you watch as his eyes widen even further, a slight sheen of sweat appearing on his forehead as he begins to stutter.

“t-that’s n-not true.”

“sure. then why are you so nervous?” you reach up and brush a hair from his face, watching as he leans back into his chair further, almost afraid of your touch. but he’s unable to garner a response, only open his mouth slightly but no words are able to escape.

you smile with victory, finally feeling like your beating him at something as you return to your original position and begin packing up your things, only glancing up at him occasionally to see his shocked state.

with one arm full, you begin to walk past him with powerful struts, until you feel a hand grip your free wrist tightly.

with a quick turn of your head, your eyes land on him, his head down as he holds your wrist tightly, obviously avoiding your eye contact at all costs.

“i need you to teach me.” you hear him barely whisper.

“what? what could i possibly teach you since you’re so much smarter than me?” you respond sarcastically.

he continues to look down as you hear him breathe heavily for a moment, fighting the urge to say the things he wants to say.

“teach me how to be good with women.”

you stand frozen in place, your body overwhelmed with shock and disbelief as you try to process what he’s saying.

“what exactly are you asking me to do?” you already knew the answer, but you still couldn’t believe a boy like him would have the confidence to ask a girl like you this.

he lets out a deep sigh, but eventually lifts his head so his eyes meet yours, and they’re filled with so much desperation you feel your stomach turn, but not in a bad way, in a strange way you’ve never felt before. he almost looked, pretty like this.

“please.” his words comes out in a beg, his eyes filled with innocence and you think you might explode at the sight. but what in god’s name were you thinking ? he was a nobody, you wouldn’t be caught dead hooking up with someone so low on the social totem pole they have less cred than someone in chess club.

but you’re unable to stop yourself as you use the wrist he’s holding to pull him out of his chair, wrapping your hand around his tightly before you’re pulling him to a secluded bookshelf in the library.

“are you out of your mind?” you speak a bit louder now that you feel a sense of privacy in such a quiet and public area of your big campus. “what makes you think i would ever do anything with you?” you say with disgust.

he tips his head down, looking at the floor again, which is strange now that you’re standing because he’s always been quite a bit taller than you.

“im sorry, it was a bad idea i should’ve never mentioned it.”

“yeah you really shouldn’t have.” your voice is growing angrier now. “god i can’t believe you actually think you’d have a chance with me.”

he looks back up at you, his eyes less submissive and more annoyed at your growing insults.

“am i really that repulsive to you?”

“uhh yeah, pretty much.”

“then why keep talking to me? all the teasing? sitting at my table while im studying? after all these years why not just leave me alone?”

your face freezes for a moment as you recall every mean thing you’ve done to him since high school. he always took it, this was the first time he’d ever talked back. as much as you always wanted a reaction from him, and you thought you were curious about him, what if that was stemming from a place other than academic jealousy?

you shake the thoughts from your brain as you return to your argument.

“you’re easy to tease, i guess i got used to it over the years.”

“so you’re telling me you don’t feel a single hint of attraction towards me? that this all comes from a place of hatred?”

you freeze at his words. were you sure that you didn’t have any attraction towards him? since high school you dated the captain of the football team, the captain of the debate team, and the student body president, why would you ever be interested in a guy like jimin? maybe curiosity got the best of you over the years. every time you watched him pass you in the hallway and felt the urge to push him into a locker, was it because you hated him? or because you wanted an excuse to touch him?

“god shut up!” you yell loudly, with a certain amount of volume you really shouldn’t use in a library. jimin’s eyes widen at your outburst, and before you’re able to react, he lunges forward and places a hand over your mouth. your eyes meet, darting between one another as you feel the tension bloom in your stomach once again. the feeling of his skin over your face, over your lips, almost sending you into a frenzy. he had never been this close to you before.

jimin watches your reaction, gauging how your eyes get bigger, but you don’t push him away, you don’t spit in his hand or bite his fingers, you stand there, still. moments pass before jimin realizes the outburst is long over, finally pulling away and backing up against the bookcase, wanting to create more space between the two of you.

“i’m sorry.” he ducks his head down again, avoiding how the look on your face changes, how you’re no longer mad, how you’re not talking, maybe not even breathing.

you clench your fists together, taking a deep breath to calm yourself as you question whether or not this is a good idea, whether or not this will change everything for you.

fuck it.

you take a step forward, bringing your hands to his face as you pull him in. your lips meeting each other’s with ease as you feel him melt into you quickly, your mouths moving with synchronicity, but a hunger that you’ve never felt before.

you ignore his gentle whines as you push him further into the bookcase, the bindings scratching his back lightly as he fights the urge to moan out in pain. but you couldn’t care less. if this was going to happen, it was going to happen on your terms, which meant before you’re able to really think about your decision and change your mind.

your kiss turns feverish as you bring your hands down to his pants, fumbling with the button as you begin to undo them.

jimin pulls away quickly, looking at you nervously before glancing down the bookshelf aisles, waiting for an unsuspecting student to turn the corner and see you both.

“do you want to learn or not, brat? this is your only chance.” his eyes dance between yours, head spinning as he feels a wave of nervousness overwhelm him.

“what if someone sees?” his voice now a hushed whisper.

“you better be quiet then.” you push his pants down just enough to release his hard on, his underwear the only thing keeping it contained. you look down and see the imprint of his cock, your mouth watering at the sight as you realize his size. maybe you should start sleeping with nerds more often.

you place a hand on his cock, stroking it gently through his underwear as you look up just in time to see him throw his head back against the bookshelf, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he stifles a moan.

“you respond so easily. you’ve definitely never been touched before, huh?”

he bites his lip, shaking his head aggressively as his hips subconsciously rut into your hand, already overwhelmed at the sensation of your touch, and you were loving every second of it.

you never thought you’d be interested in a submissive man until now. the sight of him already losing control and you’d barely even started was like nothing you’d ever seen before, and you were sure your panties were already soaked.

you continue stroking him slowly, but bring your hand down to his as you lead it up your skirt and to the hem of your undies, helping him move them to the side carefully before guiding his fingers to your drenched cunt.

his eyes go huge as he feels how wet you are, his fingers exploring your folds and clit before working their way down to your throbbing entrance.

you lean closer to him, the heat of his body radiating onto yours as you lean into his ear, speaking at barely a whisper.

“you still want me to teach you?”

he nods slowly, his fingers moving gently as if he’s afraid to hurt you.

“you’re doing good so far. just pretend you’re rubbing someone’s temple. use two fingers, and find the little nub, that’s the sweet spot.” he listens intently, following your directions as you speak, his fingers finally landing on your clit as he begins to rub torturously slow.

your knees buckle slightly but you keep your composure. you were normally a whiny mess with men, but something inside you gave you the strength to continue guiding him.

“that’s it, good boy. now just a little faster, and a little harder.” you feel his dick twitch at your praise and he listens soon after, his touch now starting a coil in your stomach as you feel it flutter with excitement. he was a very quick learner.

you stifle back a moan as you feel him speed up slightly, your body now leaning against his fully as you continue to stroke him through his underwear, the confinement now driving you insane. you just wanted to feel him.

you pull away slightly and watch as his hand retreats nervously.

“it’s okay, you did good. now lesson two.” you turn around, pulling the hem of your skirt up as you grab the bookcase in front of you, bending over slightly, your panties still pulled to the side giving him a full view of your dripping cunt.

“fuck me.”

“what?” his voice is shaky as he speaks, his palms sweaty and fingers still wet with your slick as his eyes dart between your pussy and your slightly turned head.

“it’s not hard, just line it up, make sure it’s the right hole, and go crazy. you’re a smart boy, you can figure it out.” jimin gulps as he takes a step forward, his hands wrapping around the waistband of his boxers as he pulls them down, his cock springing free as he brings the head of it to your cunt. he can tell it’s the right one because of how disgustingly wet you were. he wondered if all girls got this soaked, but quickly shook the thoughts from his head as he glanced around the aisle one more time.

the library was almost empty when you had arrived anyway, and now that it was at least an hour later, he was almost sure most of them would be gone, but he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched at the thought of someone seeing the two of you.

“are you gonna do it or should i?” you say impatiently, bringing a hand behind you to reach for his cock, but he quickly pulls it away.

“i got it, i got it.”

he lines up with your cunt one more time before taking a deep breath in, trying to ignore the nervousness he felt, but it’s not strong enough to keep him away from you.

he slowly pushes the tip of his cock into your wet hole, the feeling of your walls tightening around him making him almost moan loudly, but he’s able to suppress it just in time.

you quickly notice his struggle and push your hips back against his cock, only allowing him to enter you more as he grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your sides almost painfully.

“that’s it, good job, keep going.” you praise as he begins to fill you up. his head beginning to spin as he feels how warm and wet you are, how you constrict around him tighter than he’d ever imagined it to be. it felt like heaven, it was enough for him to fall in love right then and there. quit school and study you instead.

and just like that he bottoms out. his cock filling you up to the brim as his balls land on your clit, his hips stalling as he bites his lip firmly, anything to keep the moans inside of him and not within the air of the library.

but you’re in exactly the same boat. a hand covering your mouth as you realize just how big he really is. you’d never felt so full nor stretched before. the head of his cock so deep inside you that it was practically touching your womb, you wouldn’t be surprised if you pushed on your stomach and his cock went flying out of you, it was almost torture feeling him hold still.

“okay, good.” you say in between breaths, your chest heaving as you try to regain your composure. “you can move now.”

jimin’s silent for a minute, he wants to plow into you, make you start screaming, fuck you until you see stars, but he didn’t know where to start or what to do.

“how do i… how do i move?” his voice trembles and you almost want to just push him on the floor and ride him right then and there.

“just do whatever feels right, jimin.”

he notices the annoyance in your voice and realizes this is probably just as hard for you as it is for him. he needed to man up and start fucking you before you changed your mind.

he pulls his hips back slowly, feeling your walls loosen as they allow him to escape, the sight of his slick stained cock sliding out of you makes him almost dizzy, but he swallows a gulp, before slamming his hips back into yours.

you let out a light squeal, your hand going up to cover your mouth again as he begins to fuck you desperately. his hips moving quickly as you hear him pant and whine behind you.

of course he had to be noisy during sex.

“f-fuck, okay that’s good, just be quiet.” you uncover your mouth quickly to provide feedback before covering it again, the feeling of him inside of you almost too much to bare.

his whines quiet but his breath is loud, the gentle slapping of his pelvis against yours filling the small aisle of bookshelves and you pray that everyone either has headphones on or went home by now. he was never gonna let up by the looks of it.

“what is this feeling? why does it feel like that?” his voice is filled with desperation as his hands grip your hips tighter, his pace never ceasing as he fucks you relentlessly. the sight of his cock drilling into you only fueling him on more.

“feels good, doesn’t it?”

he groans gently in response, the innocent boy now shedding away into something much, much different.

“can’t believe i went my whole life without this, fuck. you feel fantastic.” you moan out at his words, quickly covering your mouth again as you allow him to fuck you deeper, the bookshelf in front of you shaking slightly as you grab it, searching for some sort of stability.

“i thought i was supposed to be the one teaching you?” you choke out, stumbling over your words slightly as his thrusts speed up.

“fuck you’re right. well i did this right didn’t i?” jimin brings an arm forward around your waist and begins circling your clit again, making your legs weaken beneath you. you start shaking harder, moans slipping out from your hand over your mouth as you desperately try to keep your cool.

you nod, unable to muster a response and he smiles, loving how you react. his thrusts are sloppy, his balls slapping his hand against your clit as he tries to focus on you, but he starts to stumble as he feels his stomach tightening.

“shit. i don’t know how much longer i can last.” he stutters, his fingers on your cunt still moving harshly.

you swallow your pride and push his hand away from you, leaning forward as his cock slips out, making him groan loudly. you turn around to face him, shooting him a glare as you grab his shirt, pulling him in towards you.

“i thought you were gonna be quiet.”

jimin grins, his cockiness getting the better of him.

“and i thought you were gonna teach me.”

you quirk a brow at his words, before turning the corner of your mouth up in a smirk as an idea crosses through your mind.

“why don’t you teach me instead. you’re supposed to be the student prodigy, remember?” you say as you fall to your knees in front of him, grabbing his cock as you begin to stroke it gently, causing him to groan at your actions.

“teach me, jimin. teach me how to be as smart as you.” your pout turns mocking as you lick a stripe up his cock, tasting the bitterness of both your slick and his precum. his eyes never leave yours as he watches you intently, his mouth slightly agape as he relishes in the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive skin.

“never noticed how easily your bitchiness turns me on.” he brings his hand to the back of your head and aligns your mouth with his cock, watching the way your mouth opens instinctively to let him in, your tongue sticking out just enough for him to admire the mixture of your juices mingling together in your mouth. the sight is nearly enough to make him cum right then and there.

you grin and don’t waste another second, dipping your head down to take him into your mouth as much as you can, your throat hollowing out at his size, lips suctioning his length as you begin to bob your head steadily.

“fuck.” he groans, tossing his head back as he gathers your hair into a make shift ponytail with one hand, the other gripping the bookshelf beside him tightly, turning his knuckles a pale shade of white.

as much as you wanted to cum, and feel him inside of you, you had to be careful in such a public place, and getting him off quickly was the only way to accomplish that.

his grip on your hair tightens as you hollow your cheeks more, saliva dripping down your lips as your eyes begin to water ferociously, his hips now falling on a gentle pace, matching your speed as he fucks your face.

“f-fuck, you don’t need a teacher. seems like you already know what you’re d-doing.” his praise shoots straight to your core as you try not to smile at his unintentional compliment. it was like you were finally winning, even if it wasn’t academically. he was under your control completely, and the thought of him being weak for you only made you want to toy with him more.

“please, keep going.”

you tighten your grip on his shaft, fighting against his hold as you pull back, his cock springing free as you look up to him innocently, slapping his tip against your tongue.

“aww, are you close ?” your voice is sweet, but jimin knows very quickly that you’re only taunting him further. his toes curling as he feels his release being pulled away from him for a second time.

“f-fuck, yes. why did you stop?”

you lick another stripe up his length, stopping at the tip to circle your tongue over it teasingly, the head now red and pulsing with need.

“i just want to hear you say it.”

“are you kidding? say what?”

you quirk a brow up at him, a grin plastered smugly across your face. “that i’m better.”

“no way, i’m not saying that.” his words fuel the fire in you even more as you place your finger on his slit, dragging painfully slow. his face contorts painfully, the edge clearly in sight and your teasing is almost unbearable.

“admit it, jimin.”

he lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair before tightening his grip on the back of your head.

“fine, fine, you’re better. you’re smarter, you’re sexier, god you’re everything, i’ll worship you i swear just please let me cum.”

you smile at his words, bringing his cock back up to your mouth before stopping one last time, looking up at him cheekily.

“and you’ll let me get a better grade than you on the history exam?”

he rolls his eyes in annoyance, hand gripping your hair even tighter before pulling you over his cock, your mouth engulfing him fully, not even caring at the fact that he didn’t respond.

“just suck my cock, please.” his words are breathless as he feels you begin to use your mouth faster now, drool leaking down his shaft as he pumps inside of you, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead as he tosses his head back with pleasure. the feeling of his release finally coming back almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

you bring a hand to his thigh, leaving marks as you grip it tightly for some sort of stability, your nails in his skin only spurring him on further as he makes one final pump, releasing into your mouth completely.

it feels like it would never end, spurts of his hot cum dripping down your throat as you swallow every last drop, loving the sounds of his sweet moans above you.

he’s a crazy mess, his hair flopping over his face and eyes as he looks down at you, your mouth pulling away as you open slightly, showing him that there was none left.

“yeah you definitely don’t need me to teach you how to do that.” he brings a hand down to your cheek and pinches it cutely. the fight of standing back up from your weak knees was brutal as he uses his arms to steady you, your eyes meeting carefully before you clear your throat, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him away playfully.

“you’re letting me beat you with that exam, park jimin.” you turn and walk away, returning to your shared desk as you pick your books back up and prepare to leave for the evening, feeling more exhausted than ever.

“in your dreams, sweetheart.”

#bts smut #bts #jimin scenarios #jimin x reader #jimin au #jimin smut #bts jimin #bts imagines #park jimin #jimin fic #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts au fanfic

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pearlywritings · 2 years ago

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In father's embrace

synopsis: Genshin men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.

pairings: Ayato, Thoma, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Tighnari x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, mentions of pregnancy

word count: 7.2k words

a/n: I really wanted to write Diluc and Kaeya, but realized that I can't create something new since I already have a family AU with them. Here's the materlist's link if you are interested! Also you can find the HSR version of this here!

Ayato

This man is a dad of twins - a boy and a girl. Both babies took more in their mom’s appearance, but have his soft violet eyes and honestly? This man adores you, his wife, so when he sees your kids develop more and more of your features as they grow - his heart can’t be fuller.

He is a fun and patient dad - he will teach them anything they ask him to, and offer guidance, yet still leaving space for them to learn some on their own. He also enjoys when they sneak into his study during his working hours (because mom decided to take a nap, and Thoma went out grocery shopping, and they are so-so boooooored), letting them wander around the room for the nth time, touching all the trophies and scrolls he has there (all the things that could be of danger were long removed), and when they eventually feel sleepy, crawl closer to him to nap, resting their heads on his thighs while he stays in his kneeling position, writing.

Even if they look a lot like you, it’s so easy to tell that they are his kids - the mischief babbling in their little bodies is untamable for the longest time, and Ayato loves it. Sure, sometimes it is a headache, and mostly for you, but at least they didn’t develop strange tastes in food like their father. More than once they used their similar looks to play pranks on the staff members or their parents, dressing in each other’s clothes and going about their day like that. What does their father think of it? Two words - “promising” and “entertaining”.

They are also their aunt’s absolute delight. Ayaka adores them, showering the two with gifts and attention. And even though she and Ayato are not twins like her niece and nephew - she still feels warmly nostalgic whenever she witnesses their interactions.

Best aunt - thanks to her Vision the twins experienced the joy of ice skating, lessons of etiquette became more fun (though still effective), more days off were granted to her brother to spend time with his family (she practically started stealing his paperwork at some point to fulfill it on her own). She and Thoma are making your life so much easier and for the first time Ayato truly feels at peace and like he is living his life at its fullest. The quiet rooms of the Kamisato Estate are finally filled with joyous laughter and summer warm happiness - his kids are bringing back the light to the gloomily strict atmosphere of the family house.

But sometimes the two only add the workload to his plate in the most wild ways possible.

Ayato closely observes one of his kids - presumably the son - as both the parent and the child are sitting in the room dedicated to the twins’ studying. They have the best tutors Inazuma could provide and both showed exceptional results in all their classes. Even if one of them failed an examination on the first try - the second one was always a success. That was until you walked in on your daughter rewriting her history test, only to discover your son in her place, with his sister’s clothes and blue locks tied in her manner. And that’s when the truth came to light.

Honestly it was no surprise their teachers never suspected anything - only four people could tell the twins apart easily - you, Ayato, Ayaka and Thoma, though the latter had trouble with that occasionally, and your children made sure to speak as similar as possible once the idea of replacing each other appeared. Of which you also learned that day Ayato and you sat them down and urged to tell you everything. The scolding about cheating from you and a lecture from Ayato on the topic of how important it is to do as good as you can on your own were provided, but in the end you just hugged them and said that you do not expect them to be perfect in everything, which left the kids relieved.

But from then on Ayato has been in charge of supervising the twins during their exam retakes. Just like today.

“Public diplomacy, national security, diplomatic etiquette, hm…” the head of the Kamisato clan skips across the paper with questions the tutor gave him beforehand on the latest topic of international relationships. He notices how his child doesn’t fidget and doesn’t even let the eyes run across the room - the straight posture and neutral expression etched on a thirteen-year old’s face is admirable. But he does note the uncharacteristic stiffness. Along with another major thing.

“Princess, where is your brother?”

Eyes widen slightly, but that’s enough to prove that he is correct. He watches his daughter hesitate for a moment, though there is no doubt in his mind that neither of his children would ever lie to him or their mother. And the defeated sigh shows as much.

“Sorry, father,” the girl lowers her gaze in apology. Fishing a hairpin from behind her brother’s kimono lapel, she makes quick work of collecting her hair. Then she looks into his eyes again.

“He is in my room, pretending to be me and probably stressing. Before you ask why we decided to switch - he begged me to.” “Oh?” Ayato puts the papers to the side and rests his chin on an open palm. “Could you please elaborate?” “Remember how we went to the Kujo residence for a playdate?” Her father hums, already getting a vague understanding of what’s going on. “And when we accidentally overheard how the oldest son was being scolded by his father for not doing enough in his studies. And brother got it into his head that if he keeps failing not once but more times, you are going to be disappointed in him. I know he studied for this retake, I helped him with that, but at the last moment he got anxious, and, well, here I am. Like all those years ago.”

“I see,” the man in front of her nods, and she doesn’t see any negative emotion painted on his face. Quite the contrary, he smiles.

“Be a dear, go get your brother and come back together. Change the clothes though. Oh, and tell him I am not mad, okay?” “Okay, father,” she mirrors his smile and relief flashes in her eyes - the girl truly cares for her twin, and that warms Ayato’s heart.

When half an hour later both arrive there is already a table served with tea and sweets, and the head of the Kamisato family immediately invites them to take their seats. His daughter looks calm, which can’t be said about his son - the boy has the most miserable look on his face, holding onto his sister’s hand and staring at the surface of the tea in his cup. Ayato decides to speak first.

“Kujo family is the last people one should take as an example,” his firm, yet reassuring tone makes his son glance at him. “Sure, they are respected, but their methods are too old-fashioned, and the way they treat their children is no good. Do you understand, little blossoms?”

They nod and even if Ayato doesn’t see it, he knows they squeeze each other’s hand.

“You better do, because neither me nor your mother will ever push you to the point of devastation. In studies as well,” the boy bites his lip. “I am serious. I will not be disappointed in either of you if you have to retake one test again and again. Striking for perfection is a good goal, but not when you torture yourself physically and emotionally to achieve it.”

“But father…” his son lifts his eyes and stares right into Ayato’s and it shoots right through his chest how vulnerable the kid looks. “You are perfect. And I don’t want to let you down…” “Me? Perfect? Oh, dear,” the man can’t hold a light laugh back. “Ask your mother and she’ll prove you so wrong, trust me. And none of you is letting me down - you should be proud of yourselves. At such young age you both show bright talents and knowledge - and it’s okay if it’s not the case for every possible field of studies. This is general education, later you’ll get more practice to catch up, or concentrate on your strongest abilities. Listen,” he addresses his son specifically, and the boy cocks his head to the side a little, “be more confident and trust your sister if she insists you are doing well. Don’t be afraid to ask questions and come to me if you feel unsure, alright?”

The boy glances down, letting the words sink in, and Ayato patiently waits. In his mind he admits that it's his oversight - he should've noticed earlier that one of his kids has been struggling. Now he will make sure to change that.

Eventually his son deeply sighs and looks at the adult in front of him with trust reflecting in those pretty eyes.

“Alright,” he nods with a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. Slowly standing up and letting go of his twin’s hand, he rounds the table and steps right into Ayato’s outstretched arms, wrapping his own around the man’s neck.

“Thank you, father,” he whispers right before burying his face into haori-clad shoulder. “I love you so much.”

And the man smiles, whispering those words back and soothingly patting his back, as the daughter shows him thumbs up with the tenderest look in her eyes.

Thoma

This man is such a sweet dad - nearly cried, when your first child, a girl, was delivered. Same was when a couple years later the son was born too.

Juggling his work and caring for his kids was never an issue for him. A big part of it was played by the Kamisato couple, who allowed him to bring first his daughter and then his son to work, when each of them was old enough. Which, most likely, was what prompted the Kamisatos to have their own kids - one day years ago you and Thoma wanted to have a date night - one you haven't had in a while - and Ayato's wife offered to watch your little baby girl. Does it need to be mentioned she wanted her own kids after that?

Thoma's kids are taught to be polite and respectful, but not overly reserved and quiet, no - in your own house the man would literally let them destroy the kitchen in attempts to bake something as an experiment and then turn cleaning it up into a fun game of three, or four, if you decide to join.

He is that kind of dad, who constantly falls asleep with both kids nestled on his chest and his arms wrapped around them, with a book of tales either lying on his stomach or abandoned on the floor. You literally mastered your technique of waking him up without stirring the kids, so you could bring the two to their rooms.

Your kids love walks, whether it’s in the city or admiring the scenery near the Kamisato Estate. When it’s in the city though, the four of you attract attention without a fail. Especially elders, who coo at the image of Thoma holding his daughter’s hand and you cradling your little boy to your chest. You are literally showered in little gifts and are offered many discounts, because everyone adores and respects your family. At some point for a short period of time a rumor was running around Inazuma City, that if you get to see all four members of the Kamisato retainer’s family, luck is going to follow you through the day. Thoma had to ensure it came to an end, wanting to keep you three safe and not being followed around in your leisure time.

To summarize it’s needless to say that this man is a natural when it comes to being a father. He already aced being a great husband, you never had any doubt that the same would be true about becoming a dad. And it brings you so much joy that your kids are aware of it.

Making your husband's lunch is an essential part of your morning routine. Sure, the Kamisato Estate provides its workers with meals and breaks, but knowing how much Thoma loves your home-cooked meals, you'll never refuse him this pleasure.

On days like today you pack two more lunches, for your kids - yesterday they expressed their desire to go and help their dad. But you are more than aware of the plan they've had in their mind for the longest time. That's why you turn a blind eye and chop fruits particularly loudly, when you ten- and four-year olds sneak into the kitchen and hide something in the wrapper of an already packed lunch.

And when they were leaving and every member of your family gave you kisses, you couldn’t help but notice the decreased stack of small papers you have in the hall to make notes.

Maybe next time, you’ll ask your kids to join.

Thoma bringing his kids to work is always a pleasant surprise to the Estate’s staff. Even the guards by the gates can’t keep their composure, when the girl cheerfully greets them, wishing a good day, and the boy softly chirps a little “hi” and shyly waves his hand at them. Next person they always meet is Furuta - and the old lady adores their greeting ritual and is the one who looks after the fellow housekeeper’s kids when they help or play outside. But if usually the woman just makes small compliments to the children and chides Thoma for not bringing them over more, today his daughter breaks the routine - she suddenly lets go of his hand and quickly runs to her father’s colleague and asks her to speak in the corner. A bit stunned, the blonde watches the two move farther and start quietly talking. The boy in his arms curiously watches them and then, as if realizing something claps his hands.

“What is it, cookie?” But the only answer he receives is merry giggling.

The next strange thing happens, when the three of them arrive in his room - kids, looking as suspicious as possible, start making excuses to go and play first, though they usually insist on following him around unless they get bored, and as they disappear behind the door with his daughter’s bag - Master Ayato requests his visit.

Getting out of his office only an hour later, Thoma has to rush to his duties, realizing that he’ll have to speed up if he wants to finish everything the blue-haired man has just told him to do. He even handed him a list with tasks, which never happened. What’s going on?

Not finding the children in his room, he decides to start without them, assuming they'll join him later. Okay, what’s the first thing on the list… Check all the chairs. Alright…

Luckily this piece of furniture isn’t numerous in the residence, giving the culture of Inazuma, and Thoma knows perfectly every single room where he can find them. What he wasn’t expecting to find is the folded papers on the seats of some of those. Upon unfolding each revealed a single letter. Strange… Well, at least the chairs themselves are in the required condition.

Tucking the papers in his pocket and fishing the list out of the other one, the man checks his next destination. Check all the bushes around the main building. Blinking, he looks again. No, the handwriting is definitely his master’s, but the contents? In his style, but why so sudden?

Following every single point, Thoma manages to find in total 13 papers with letters on it, before the list stops being weird and advises the housekeeper to dedicate the time before lunch to his common responsibilities. Which he, with an exhale of relief, proceeds to fulfill.

When the time for lunch rolls around, kids, as if magically, reappear at his side and innocently smile at him, asking how he spent his time. He promises to tell them over lunch.

Lunch, that brings him four more pieces of paper. And suddenly, both kids are not that interested in food.

“Make a phrase, make a phrase!” His daughter chants, holding her brother in her lap, and the little boy claps his hands, chanting ‘make! make!’. Already realizing that all of this was their meticulously crafted plan (to participate in which they managed to convince quite a few people), Thoma doesn’t oppose, putting all the papers on the table in front of him.

S V E E T S I R H E Y B T

And A P A P which he got from his lunch.

“The” is guessed immediately. “Is” as well. When he reaches for the “A P A P” to add it to the pile, the girl suddenly lunges forward, putting her hand on top of it and shaking her head. Alright, not yet.

S V E E T R Y B is left. Okay, maybe “very” and… “best”!

Moving the pieces around in utter concentration, the man puts the words in the right order. And only then the ten-year old lifts her hand. With a baited breath he moves the four remaining pieces a little more and his heart skips a beat, and the summer-green eyes widen.

PAPA IS THE VERY BEST

“Surprise!” The girl beams with the widest smile, hugging her brother. “We wrote it together! See how some of the letters are clumsy? He did it!” She proudly looks at the boy, gently ruffling his hair. “Recently he was trying to learn how to write! You are the first one who sees it, even mom didn’t! And we chose this phrase, because- dad, are you crying?”

Warm silent tears are indeed running down his cheeks and the man nods, not trusting his voice. A whirlwind of emotions overtakes him, making it a little hard to formulate his thoughts, but he reacts immediately when his kids rush to him, opening his arms and catching them in a tight embrace. He'll tell them how touched he is, he'll praise them, he'll declare his love for them again and again. A tiny bit later. Now he just needs to hold them and hear that he, for real, "is the very best papa".

Alhaitham and Kaveh

Listen, just LISTEN - imagine these men’s pure shock when their wives surprise them over a double date at Kaveh’s house with their pregnancies. Like, AT THE SAME TIME. Kaveh is gaping at his woman, but Alhaitham is no better - a glass with wine frozen in air in the middle of his attempt to put it back on the table as his eyes are not blinking, glued to his spouse. The blonde would be the first one to break from his stupor and tightly hug his wife, kissing all over her face all laughter and little jumping in place, while his junior would finally put the glass down and beckon his woman onto his lap and bury his face in her neck with arms around her body, quietly thanking her for amazing news.

The kids are not even formed in the women’s stomachs, but they already have a story to share.

Alhaitham

Despite not giving the impression the man likes the idea of being a father to a child together with you, his beloved. Of course the pregnancy was planned, but even he couldn’t predict the possibility of you and his friend’s wife being pregnant at the same time. Though he does find it a little amusing and can’t lie to himself that watching you and your female friend discuss the nursery designs, the clothes, the gender, the two babies becoming akin to siblings warms his heart.

He always loved quiet evenings with you, but later, as your bump got more and more prominent, he finds himself craving your back pressed to his chest and his palms cradling your rounding stomach. He talks to his kid in there, reads them books and soothes, when they are restless and don’t let you sleep that well. And that’s how early on you understood who’s going to be the one putting your newborn to sleep, because your persuasions didn’t work that well.

And your husband doesn’t mind. He actually loves cradling his daughter - yes, it’s a little girl! - to his chest and lull her to sleep - it gives him an unimaginable sense of fulfillment.

As your little wonder grows older, Kaveh can’t help but comment how similar her scowl is to her father’s - combined with the annoyed sharp glare of the eyes she also got from him. But that’s only when she is being capricious. Most of the time she is calm and sporting your sweet smile, voice soft and eyes lacking the mentioned above sharpness.

By the way, she is older than Kaveh’s kid, which makes the Scribe just a little bit smug.

Alhaitham is all too happy to be the one educating her. He makes sure to balance her time spending with him and her time spending with you, encouraging her to engage in your hobbies and have a mother-daughter time. But the most he loves the time the three of you spend together - be it as simple as grocery shopping, having a meal together or cuddling in the evening, or going on whole little expeditions, because his girl wants to explore something on the topic she is currently interested in.

Oh, and he is so biased when it comes to her. There is only one non-scholar kid in all of Sumeru who has her own personal access to the House of Daena, research laboratories, research data and the Scribe’s office at any working hour - and that’s your daughter.

“Look, that’s the Scribe’s wife!”

Taken aback, you stop in your way when at least a dozen students surround you. Raising an eyebrow you survey their faces thoughtfully, noting that they seem to be quite desperate. But even before you can open your mouth they interrupt.

“Tell him to let us in! We have applications to submit!”

“And I have questions why mine was declined!”

“I need his signature on my thesis papers!”

“He locked himself inside with your daughter and said not to disturb their nap! Unbelievable-”

“And how exactly can I help?” You cut through the cacophony of their voices. Students look at you as if you’ve just grown a second head.

“...you are his wife? You can influence him.” “First of all, demanding something from a person you barely know is simply rude,” you narrow your eyes and a chill runs down some of the spines - for a moment you looked just like your husband. “Secondly, I am not involved in his work and I don’t plan to. Now, please, step aside.”

“You can’t be so cruel!”

“Oh, and you can? Let me guess, at least half of you missed deadlines, a small portion made mistakes again and the rest are not in an urgent need to see my husband, but decided to stick with others in hopes that getting to him right now will work?”

Leaving them stunned by your easy guess, you finally push your way through, holding a box with food you brought for lunch close to your chest. Once in front of the door you don’t even have the time to raise a fist for knocking, because the door unlocks and opens, revealing the tall man behind it.

Silently and quickly you step inside and the door shuts again, the key turns in the lock and then is thrown on the nearest table. The office meets you with welcomed tranquility, and dimmed lights are a nice contrast to the blindingly white walls of the Akademiya.

“So, you heard everything? They said you were napping,” you question his guess of when to open the door to let you in. Alhaitham rolls his eyes, glaring at the hindrance you left behind the door, and then takes the box from you.

“I was, but since I lent my earpieces I could hear the commotion in the corridor,” with his free hand he takes yours and leads you further into the room. There, on the sofa, you spot your daughter - wearing her dad’s device and napping, curled under his cape.

“Oh Dendro Archon, she is so adorable,” you coo in awe. “Look how big your things are on her!”

“She demanded I take a break and sit with her,” the Scribe hums, putting the food on the table and then locking both of his arms around you in an embrace. “But the more she was reading to me while sitting at my side, the sleepier she was getting, so we decided to nap.”

You listen to him, while observing your precious girl. She seems serene and content, holding onto the gold-embroidered piece of fabric, surely containing her father’s soothing scent. The earpieces are adjusted to hold onto her head and in silence you can even catch the faintest sounds of a melody. Ah, if only you had a Kamera with you…

“Let’s get her her own earpieces and cape.”

“The cape is unnecessary, but I did consider the device. I could make her her own, especially since she’s been complaining about having hard times to concentrate while she is at the Akademiya.” “But with the cape she’d be just like you!”

“Am I alone not enough for you already?” Light turquoise eyes are hard to read, but you manage to catch a shadow of amusement.

“But matching outfits are charming! Like, remember the last time we’ve been to Kaveh’s? The whole family had matching robes!”

“Then you’ll have to dress like me too.”

“If I am to get an intricate cape and a device to block the sounds of you huffing - I don’t mind.”

Alhaitham huffs. Then stops, realizing he’s just done what you were accusing him of, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Kidding, kidding. Let’s discuss it over lunch. Can you wake her while I am setting the table?”

Your husband nods and, receiving a quick peck to his cheek, releases you from his hold, stepping closer to the sofa.

As you busy yourself with the food, you occasionally glance at the two from the corner of your eye, absolutely swooning over how gently Alhaitham takes the earpieces off, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, softly murmurs her name and coaxes her from sleep with the news that mommy came and brought delicious food with her. And when two sets of identical eyes look at you tenderly, a loving smile lights up your face.

Kaveh

Can you see this man sticking his finger in Alhaitham's direction and declaring that his kid is going to be senior to his friend's? Because I can. (Too bad he was wrong).

As well as I can see this man accidentally becoming supportive not only of you but the other man's family as well - and drawing the blueprints for both nurseries is probably only the beginning (but you were the only one whose every suggestion he took without arguing).

From day one his mind is set on being the best dad for your baby, just like he is the best husband to you. He reads books, seeks advice in Bimarstan, even writes letters to his mother in hopes she'll share her experience, that could help you. Though when it comes to shopping for your yet unborn baby, you have to physically restrain him from buying every single cute plushie or onesie he sees.

When your daughter is born though, it's getting harder, because your own desire to spoil this golden-haired angel is unmeasurable. Maybe it's because she looks so much like your husband and you are projecting your need to shower him in love and affection and give everything you possibly can, but by the end of the day you just simply love her very much.

Kaveh adores doing anything creative with his daughter. She wants a mosaic in a frame on her wall? They'll put it from the little tiles together and Kaveh would hold her in his arms so she could hang it. She wants a dollhouse? They'll spend the time drawing the draft and picking colors and materials for EVERYTHING. And then he'll be building it, while she crafts little furniture. And it doesn't matter if she did it too small or too big - papa will help her adjust it.

But even so, Kaveh doesn't expect his daughter to be some genius or follow in his steps. No, he knows he'll love her even if she stops sharing the creative approach with him. He knows better than anyone how crushing it is to have everyone's expectations to loom over you and predatory gazes watch tirelessly, anticipating the moment you fail. He gives a vow to himself, to you, to your girl, that he will be there no matter what.

Matching. Outfits. You own so many it's almost worrisome. But your daughter loves them. There were a couple occasions when she drew her own designs for the three of you and you had it tailored, which left her absolutely ecstatic.

On that note, you believe Kaveh's (tiny) fear that she'll lose interest in creativity is going to be short-lived - especially after your visit to Fontaine to let your daughter meet her granny, which the girl spent with wide open eyes and mouth, absorbing everything around her to use it later.

Also having your daughter earned you a heavy supporter in moments when Kaveh starts to overwork. He can't resist the charm of both of his girls and is easily swayed to the nearest sofa/bed to cuddle and share lots of kisses. All his life he has been the anchor for others - now he has two people to be that for him.

Kaveh is easily spooked by sudden noises, and your eleven-year old daughter knows that. That's why she makes sure to tap her feet loud enough to hear their approach through the door of his study. Balancing a small tray with a cup of tea and your special dessert in one hand, she lifts the other to gently knock on the door.

"Come in, baby!" Reaching higher she pulls the handle.

The floor littered with crumpled papers isn't a new sight to her, just as her father's hunched back over the properly lit table. But when the door closes, the architect immediately puts the pencil down and turns around, giving her a big smile.

"Hi, sweety," he is beaming, seeing her adorable face and a growing smile, complementing those precious twinkles in her eyes.

"Hi, papa!" She chirps like a little birdie - her actual nickname - and Kaveh nearly drops his head in his palms and cries. How can he be a father to someone so tender?

"Mama said you are working and made you something! I helped," she lifts the tray, showing him what she has. "We hope you will like it."

Oh, he definitely will, he doesn't doubt it. Carefully wrapping his fingers around the edges, the man takes his late afternoon snack and brings it closer to his face, inhaling the sweet smell of the desert and a soothing aroma of the tea.

"Thank you, little birdie," he puts the tray aside and bends lower to wrap his arms around her and smooch her cheek. "You and mama are the best."

"Hehe, we know," she giggles. "You are the best too."

"Awww," Kaveh can't help but nuzzle against her cheek, gaining another giggle and a cute scrunch of her nose.

"Daaaaaaaad!"

"Sorry, sorry, baby, you are just so adorable. Just like your mama."

"But mama says I am pretty like you."

"Both can work together," he assures her, but a soft blush covers his cheeks. No matter how many years have passed, he still gets shy whenever his wife uses "pretty" to describe him.

"Okay!" She simply agrees, giving him a big hug. "Sorry, but I should be going now. Mama wants to go grocery shopping and I want to help her."

Now that she says this, Kaveh pays closer attention to her outfit - the white sundress with pink roses is definitely not something she'll wear at home.

"Alright then, let me escort you downstairs."

Standing up, he easily hoists her in his arms and lets her perch on his left one, as her arms wrap around his neck.

When they reach the hall, the girl has managed to make two braids in his hair, now twisting them around each other. Kaveh finds both her and your obsession with touching his hair amusing, but sometimes it feels nice and relaxing. And you did put him to sleep by scratching his head on multiple occasions.

You, who are standing in front of the mirror, and even witnessing just your profile, the architect is in love all over again.

He should take you on a date later this week.

"Well, I definitely wouldn't mind that," you chuckle, turning to face him and offering your most teasing smile. Ah, he said the date part out loud, didn't he? "But right now I need to go and take care of our dinner's ingredients."

Your husband nods in understanding and puts your daughter down, dusting the skirt of her dress and making sure everything is intact. Getting a quick peck on the nose, he gives her one on the forehead and straightens up to immediately welcome you into his embrace and share a soft kiss.

“Be sure to take a break and enjoy the snack we made for you. And I mean it when I say taking a break. We all remember how you spilled your morning coffee over the blueprint and had to redraw everything again. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

A wild shiver runs down Kaveh’s spine and he feverishly shakes his head. No, if there is one thing he is certain in it’s hating the repetition of this.

“You don’t have to remind me,” his heavy sigh ghosts over your skin. “And it won’t happen again.”

“I believe in you!” You cheer joyfully and it warms his heart.

“I believe in papa too!” Your daughter throws her fists in the air. “Papa can do anything!”

“Of course he can,” you gently nudge her back, ushering her to the front door. “See you soon, Kaveh. We love you.”

“I love you too.”

Waving at your leaving figures he waits until you shut the door and stick the key in the lock, before smiling to himself and returning to his study.

The tea got a little cold and the dessert’s top melted just a tiny bit, but both are still incredibly delicious. Leaning back in an armchair with a plate resting on his knee and a cup wrapped in his hands, the man feels happily at ease and two precious girls are the reason why.

Tighnari

Frankly, I don't think Tighnari has ever given much thought to becoming a dad, let alone settling down with someone. But taking care of Collei, becoming her mentor, stepping so close to becoming a parental figure, probably played its role as well.

Biggest part, of course, was you - another pretty fennec hybrid, who, due to the same biological background, could share a lot of things with him that the man couldn't and honestly didn't want to bother explaining to others, he sure has other things to fulfill.

It took years of courting from both sides, but eventually, you two settled down together, content with each other as a partner. When the talk of kids happened, the forest ranger was hesitant - he knows he can handle a kid, he can handle ten if required thanks to his immense patience and love for teaching, but since you were different from humans, the man was aware that you could be carrying more than three babies at one time. Even if your body is built to handle it by evolution, he still didn't want to make you go through with so much. Initially. However when you looked so hopeful to have a family with your beloved, swore it's going to be just one time and then you'll keep using protection like before, he was convinced and actually quite excited.

So much nuzzling during your pregnancy. So much nuzzling when the babies are born - three beautiful boys and one girl, with the prettiest fluffy tails and ears of yours or his fur. He immediately jumped to being a father, without any complaint taking care of your kids, while you were recovering. He adores them so much, but at times hardly manages to keep an eye on all four - good thing you moved into a bigger house that is closer to the ground, because little explorers did try to escape outside on multiple occasions.

What gets Tighnari's heart burst like fireworks though? Spotting you napping with all of your babies huddled in your embrace, body practically curled around them and a tail resting on top. The first time it happened - maybe a couple of weeks after you gave birth to them - Tighnari left you alone with the kids to do an examination on the work of forest rangers in his absence, and when he returned back - he nearly collapsed from how adorable the five of you looked. Definitely joined.

From their early age he taught his kids everything about the forest so they would be prepared, and, even he won't ever admit it, it stirred something in his chest when they looked up at him with wonder and fascination in their gleaming eyes. They were also taught to be independent, but at the same time to work as a team, and they are so good at that.

The circle of four is absolutely perfect. Little hands are swift and precise, and the absolute concentration is written on the seven-year olds adorable faces. You and Tighnari even stopped your own grooming of each other’s tails to observe your kids’ routine of doing the same thing, but among themselves.

With four pillows on the floor they once again made themselves comfortable, just like every evening, equipped with different kinds of brushes and safe oils.

You put your chin onto Tighnari's shoulder, still holding his tail in your lap, with yours resting under his palm, and make a soft sound, loud enough for him to recognize and not alert the kids. Your husband nods, purring in response and rubbing his cheek against your temple.

"They are so adorable, 'nari," you sigh, watching the four being so absorbed with their task that they don't even talk. The male couldn't agree more, lifting the corners of his mouth in a smile and then picking another brush to get busy with the tip of your tail.

"They absolutely got it from you, my dear. And did you notice how much progress they've made in the fur-caring routine?"

Tighnari doesn't see that, but you, still staring forward at your kids, clearly see how four pairs of ears prick up. How cute, someone wants the praise.

"That they did. And I don't know about you, but at the age of 7 I didn't even know that the fur has to be clean and taken care of anyhow. I guess, I never gave it much thought when my mom did it for me. Our little ones are so independent."

Four tails move a little, kids clearly delighted.

"You are right, they are," Tighnari hums, running his fingers through your now well-groomed fur, and your children hold their chins up proudly. "If only this independence didn't extend to trying to escape to the forest on their own against all of my warnings."

Inhumane eyes glare at the frozen bodies of the "explorers" in question, making them lower their gaze and pick up from where they stopped their routine. Oh, they know what they've done.

You can only sigh, fully understanding your husband's concerns, and finish tending to his tail.

Next is the balm you generously scoop onto your palm to rub into the rough texture of your fox-like pads. When you do the same for Tighnari, receiving a tender kiss to your nose, and then to each of your babies, as they walk to you one by one, still with guilty, pouty, but adorable faces, while your husband is putting away all the tools and products.

Soon your bed is occupied with all of your kids, snuggling to your sitting body and drowsily asking to sleep with you two tonight. Even the thought of making a dozen more steps to their own rooms is killing the last energy in them - the routine has an incredible side effect: they immediately become sleepy when they are done and you don't have much trouble with putting them to bed.

Especially when the bed is right here. The bed that became a large one not even a couple of months along their lives, because this has been a common occurrence.

"Mommy, daddy, can we sleep with you tonight, please?" Your daughter lifts her pleading eyes at you, being the one who managed to directly slide into your lap and into your embrace. Three boys, attached to your sides silently lift their eyes too, pouting in attempts to break your resolve. Which wasn't here in the first place.

"What'd you say, 'nari?" Chuckling, you look at your husband climbing onto the bed to join the five of you.

"Weren't we just discussing their independence? They can surely walk to their rooms. Come on, babies, back to your beds."

"Noooooooooo," their hold on you immediately becomes a death grip. "We want to stay with you!"

"Kids, I can't breathe-" you gasp from the crushing hug of at least two pairs of arms squeezing your middle.

"We want to stay, we want to stay, we want to stay!"

"That's what you should've told yourselves earlier this morning when you decided to get to the river with spinocrocodiles. That you want to stay. Home. Until I or your mother could go on a walk with you outside the village."

At his strict tone and at the reminder of them nearly losing their tails this morning to the sharp jaws of wild animals, four little foxes lower their eyes, ashamed. But they do relax their hold around you.

Tighnari sighs, rubbing his temples and contemplating when he's going to get his first gray hairs.

"Okay, I'll let you sleep with us tonight, BUT," he slightly raises his voice to emphasize, especially since the four immediately got in high spirits, "if something like this happens again - you are losing this privilege for a week. Are we clear?"

"Yes, daddy…"

"Yeah.."

"Mhm…"

"Sure, dad…"

And that's the only confirmation Tighnari needs before lifting the covers, because no matter how restless and disastrous your children can be - he has almost as hard a time as you do telling them "no".

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #ayato x fem!reader #thoma x reader #thoma x fem!reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x fem!reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #tighnari x reader #tighnari x fem!reader #kamisato ayato #thoma #alhaitham #kaveh #tighnari #genshin impact fluff

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softspiderling · 1 year ago

Text

illicit affairs - part four | r.c

summary:

“All done?” You asked, stretching your hand a little to make sure the bandage wasn’t restricting anything.

“Yup,” Rafe replied, shutting the kit. “Or is there anything else?”

“I thought you were going to kiss it better,” you said teasingly.

OR; You reminisce about the day you realized you had fallen in love with your best friend

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: mention of blood (small cut!)

word count: 2,9k

author's note: a little later than usual, but i hope you don't mind! new precious + rafe lore unlocked. this part explores rafe's and precious' friendship more and is slightly angsty (what a 180 from the last part lmaoo). pls pls pls let me know what you thought. happy reading!!! <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. four: "you taught me a secret language"

Throughout your life, Rafe had always been your best friend. Granted, the title became longer the older you got: Rafe, your best friend in the whole world; Rafe your best friend who you had a crush on; Rafe your best friend who you were undoubtedly in love with; and now? Rafe, your best friend who you had sex with.

You sometimes wished you could turn back the time to before you were in love with Rafe.

Or rather, before you admitted you were in love with him.

Deep inside, you knew that there was never a before. You’d always been in love with Rafe. You just refused to admit it, even to yourself, until it pretty much stared you right in the face.

It was right around the time of your senior year at the academy, which admittedly, you didn’t like looking back at all that much since it was probably the most stressful times of your life, with all the exams, finals and college apps you were doing; it didn’t help that your parents were on your ass most of the times, despite you doing fairly well in school. However it all came to a boiling point around the end of the first term of your senior year. You had just come home from studying at the library with the boys - with Rafe just bumming around because he had graduated two years earlier - when your mother greeted you at the door with a letter in her hand, her face red.

“What’s this?”

You sighed internally, turning around to shut the door behind you slowly, using that time to exhale deeply. It had been a long day and the last thing you needed was your mother screaming at you as soon as you stepped over the threshold.

“I don’t know ma,” you replied, squinting your eyes at the letter. Your vision was a little blurry from all the studying you’ve done, but you recognized the crest of the academy on the left corner. “The invitation for the graduation ceremony?”

Your mother scoffed. “Try again. It’s a letter from the principal. You failed a math test.”

“What?”

You snatched the letter out of your mother’s hands scanning the content before sighing, dropping your hands.

“Mom, I didn’t fail the test, I got a 82.”

“That’s basically a fail,” you mother huffed, shaking her head. “How do you want to keep your 4.0 GPA up with grades like this?”

“It’s a test.”

“Stop with the attitude young lady, this is your future we’re talking about?”

“Mom, I know! But it’s just a test, it’s not like it’s gonna affect my grades that much.”

Your mother made a noise of disapproval, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Just a test? Everything counts, you know that! Especially in your senior year, where every single grade you get can decide between an acceptance or being waitlisted.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, running your hand through your hair. “I can’t listen to this right now. I’ve been in the library the whole day and the second I get back you’re on my ass about a fucking 82.”

You shoved your backpack on the counter and turned right back around, opening the door forcefully. Your mother was right behind you, appalled at your tone.

“This conversation isn’t over! Where are you going?!”

“OUT!”

You slammed the door behind you, rushing to your car and tossing your backpack on the passenger seat as you drove off. Brimming with anger, you didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now, so you headed straight to the beach, to the one spot you knew you would be left alone.

In less than five minutes after parking, you had put on your bathing suit and unstrapped your surf board from the trunk and were in the water. After catching your first wave, you were still fuming. After the fourth, you started to feel the sun on your face, and the anger slowly seeping away. You lost yourself in the water, becoming one with the ocean, starting to get bold and one tiny misstep on your board made you lose your balance, falling into the wave you were trying to catch. The brute strength of it knocked you around underwater like a rag doll, arm getting caught on some reef, and you were gasping for air as you finally resurfaced, clinging onto your board. With a groan, you heaved yourself back on top of the board, trying to catch your breath as the water lapped around you in smal waves.

“Shit,” you muttered, lifting your wrist to inspect the cut on your wrist, squinting your eyes against the sun. You let out a hiss as the salt water dripped from your fingers onto the cut.

“You tryna kill yourself?”

You jumped, not having expected anyone out there with you. Shaking out your wrist, you lifted your head to see Rafe paddling towards you, a frown on his face.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?”

His hair was still dry, board shorts clinging to his legs when he came to a stop next to you, waves softly lapping against his board.

“I swung by your place. Wanted to see if you wanted to get pizza and instead I find your mom all pissed, said you stormed off,” he explained, “and since I didn’t run into on my way to your house, I figured you’d be out here.”

You let out a sigh, staring out at the sea, ignoring how Rafe was holding his hand out, undoubtedly to get a look at your wrist. With an eye roll, you stretched out your wrist in his direction, and he curled his fingers around it, pulling you closer. Your cheeks heated as your leg pressed against his, added with the feeling of his hot breath on your skin, you breathed out softly.

“Y’know this could’ve ended real badly, precious,” Rafe muttered, brushing his thumb over your skin, before he looked up at you, his eyebrows creased.

“I’m fine.”

“Clearly, you’re not,” Rafe scoffed. “What happened?”

“My mom got all over me because of a “failed math test””, you said, air-quoting. “I’m just sick of it. It’s not like I’ve slacking off or anything, I’m working my ass off and they’re never happy with whatever I do, because in their eyes, I always have room to grow.” You let out a frustrated sigh, glancing at Rafe when you noticed he was sporting a look on his face that told you he understood exactly what you meant.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “Our parents should be doing better than setting expectations for their kids instead of loving them despite their achievements.”

You gave him a wry smile and he only let out a small huff, squeezing your wrist gently. “Are you all done or do you want to keep trying to drown yourself some more?”

Huffing out a laugh, you rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m done.”

The two of you paddled back to the beach, drying off and while Rafe helped you securing your board to your trunk, he glanced over at you, hair falling into his eyes.

“Let me get your cut cleaned off first before we leave. I have a first aid kit in my truck.”

“Kay.”

You took a seat at the edge of his trunk, while Rafe went to fetch the first aid kit from the glove compartment. The sun was starting to set, and with that, the temperature was sinking, your damp hair laying cold on your back. The car door shut, before Rafe turned around the corner of the truck, first aid kit in his hand and sweater slung around his shoulder.

“Put this on,” he said absentmindedly, dropping the sweater in your lap and the first aid kit in the trunk. Rolling your eyes, you slipped into the sweater and it was oddly comforting to be surrounded by his scent, but you didn’t let yourself dwell on that, because it was such a weird thing to think, right? Instead, you watched as Rafe rummaged through the first aid kit, picking out some bandages, gauze and a disinfectant spray.

“Roll up your sleeve.”

“Yes, nurse Cameron.”

Rafe gave you a look, but you only snickered as you rolled up the sleeve, before holding out your wrist to him. He muttered something under his breath as he cleaned your cut and dressed it, without much complaints from your side, even though the disinfectant stung a little. Rafe taped the end of the bandage snugly to your wrist, tossing the rest of the material back into the kit.

“All done?” You asked, stretching your hand a little to make sure the bandage wasn’t restricting anything.

“Yup,” Rafe replied, shutting the kit. “Or is there anything else?”

“I thought you were going to kiss it better,” you said teasingly. Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, before he reached for your hand, lifting it to his mouth to place a kiss on the bandage. You flushed, not expecting him to actually do it.

“You’re an idiot,” you said hotly, shoving him away but he only laughed, running his hand through his hair. The grin on his face was infectious, and you couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes at him.

“There she is,” Rafe said, cupping your chin to lift it, forcing you to look into his eyes. Suddenly, your hands grew clammy and swallowed nervously as he smiled at you, blue eyes sparkling. For a split second, you thought he was gonna kiss you and for some reason, you weren’t opposed. Actually, you kind of really wished he’d kiss you.

Wait, what?

That was not a normal thing to want from your best friend. Suddenly, your heart started racing and you let out a deep breath, hoping it would calm yourself down.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just my mom,” you lied, wringing your hands in your lap. “I just stormed off. She’s gonna be super pissed and I’ll probably be grounded until I’m thirty.”

“Nah, come on. I bet she completely forgot about it already.”

You gave him a look and Rafe winced. “Okay, maybe not. But if we give her some time, we can hope for the best? Come on.”

He tugged you off of the trunk, closing up the front panel.

“Let’s go get some pizza. My treat.”

“I don’t know,” you whinged, “Maybe I should just go home. Get it over with.”

You weren’t sure if it was the best idea to spend more time with Rafe right now considering how weird you were feeling. Worst case, you’d do blurt something out and make things weird between the two of you, that was the last thing you needed. But Rafe wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close.

“Trust me, whether you go home now or in three hours won’t change anything. If anything, it’ll give you an even clearer head after having some food, huh?”

As if on cue, your stomach grumbled loudly and Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, the corners of his mouth twitching up.

“Fine,” you relented, rolling your eyes at him. “Gino’s?”

“Yup, meet you there.”

While Rafe got into his truck, you got into your jeep, rubbing your hand over your face, frustrated.

“Fuck,” you muttered with a small sigh. You couldn’t actually like Rafe more than a friend, right? That’d be crazy. You’d known each other for so long, had been friends for so long, there was no way. It was probably just a crush. There was no denying that Rafe was attractive, and it was normal to want to kiss attractive people, right?

I’m just emotional because of the fight with mom, you thought to yourself, rolling your shoulders, forcing yourself to calm down. I am not in love with Rafe. He’s my best friend. With a deep exhale, you put your key in the ignition, pulling out of the parking spot and driving towards Gino’s.

When you got there, Rafe was already entering the restaurant, the door swinging shut behind him. You turned your car off, and got out, grabbing a blanket from your backseat and opening the front panel of the trunk of Rafe’s truck, laying down the blanket. By the time you had made yourself yourself comfortable, Rafe returned with two pizza cartons, balancing two cans of soda on top. You reached for the cans, setting them down next to you so Rafe could settle down across from you, laying down the pizza cartons. Wordlessly, Rafe opened both of them, waiting for you to reach for a slice before he got one himself, biting into it.

Silence settled over you as you ate, with you handing Rafe his soda when he finished his slice, knowing he liked to wash his crust down with a drink, and him handing you a napkin. You and Rafe had never needed words to communicate before, understanding each other without having to say anything and as you sat there, glancing at Rafe as you chewed on your pizza, you came to the terrifying realization that you loved him

You were in love with him.

Suddenly, your mind was racing, coming up with 10 thousand different scenarios where you’d ruin your friendship because you had fallen in love with your best friend, as you started to think back to the past, realizing how obvious it was that you had feelings for him. Had it always been like this?

Lost in thought, you didn’t even notice that all that was left of the pizzas were crumbs, as Rafe shut the cartons, stacking them together. Drinking the rest of your soda, you crushed the can in your hand like it was your feelings, bringing the empty cans and cartons to the nearest trashcan as Rafe cleaned up the trunk. You let yourself stare at the back of his head for a while, inhaling deeply before you cleared your throat. He glanced back over his shoulder, attention on you.

“Thanks,” you said, trying not to be awkward as you fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater. Rafe gave you a look.

Despite the fact that you were sitting in silence as you ate, his presence had comforted, brought your nerves down and made your anger disappear the way no one really could. Rafe wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you leaned into him, head on his chest. You didn’t revel in his arms for too long, as the two of you separated as Rafe closed his trunk. He dusted his hands off before turning around, his attention wholly on you.

“Do you want me to come home with you? Create a buffer for your mom?”

“No,” you replied, crossing your arms. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

Rafe eyed you sceptically for a second before he nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “A’ight then. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

You smiled at him, giving a quick nod before you got into your car, waving at him as you drove off, a pit in your stomach. The drive home didn’t take long, but the sun had already set as you pulled up on your estate. The house was illuminated in the headlights of your car, quickly returning to darkness as you turned your engine off. There were no lights on as you entered the house; you were hoping that it meant that your parents had gone out, and you’d avoid another confrontation with your mother.

Picking up your bookbag from the floor, you paused as you saw your mother sit in the living room, a book in her lap. The two of you looked at each other for a second, neither saying a word.

“Hey mom,” you greeted her, breaking the silence. Your mother took off her reading glasses, shutting the book.

“Where were you?”

“Surfing.”

Your mother slid the book on the table, setting the glasses on top. “Did you eat?”

“Yeah,” you replied, shifting on your feet. “I got some pizza with Rafe.”

She nodded slowly, easing into the cushions behind her. You waited, wondering if she was gonna apologize but your mother didn’t say anything; maybe she was waiting for you to apologize.

“… I’ll be upstairs.”

Your mother didn’t stop you as you retreated upstairs into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Setting the book bag on your desk, you laid down on your bed with a sigh, reaching for your phone.

Rafe [03/21/19: 7:44 pm]: everything good?

Precious [03/21/19: 7:49 pm]: as well as expected

Precious [03/21/19: 7:49 pm]: thanks for being there for me

Rafe [03/21/19: 7:51 pm]: always, precious

Ever since that day, you knew you loved Rafe, and sometimes, you indulged yourself and let yourself imagine what it would be like to be more than Rafe’s best friend. But as he was lying in the bed next to you, his chest slowly rising and falling while you were unable to sleep, you never would have expected that it would be like this.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: thoughts???👀

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron imagine #obx #outer banks #drew starkey

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fou4summer · 13 days ago

Text

LIBRARY g!p kim minjeong × fem!reader

synopsis: you asked your girlfriend Minjeong to explain maths to you, but you get bored during your study session in the library.

warnings: smut!, public sex, g!p loser minjeong, blowjob, teasing

genre: smut

word count: 0.8k

You sigh as you step into the library. Oh, how much you hated math, it was indescribable. Just as you were about to text your girlfriend (since the library was huge and you never came here), you realized you needed her help, she was always here.

"Baby over here!" She whispered, waving her hand. You hurried over and sat on the chair next to hers.

"So what do you need for that test?" She asked in a low tone, not even looking at you. You were wearing a short skirt and a really tight top, hoping to get her attention today, but she only looked at the math book.

"Slow down love. You didn’t even hug me or kiss me. Are we friends?" You teased, but she misunderstood.

"Oh baby sorry... I—I really didn’t mean to baby... Can you forgive me?" She said quickly, giving you a peck and then opening the math book. Her face flushed, but she kept looking into your eyes. You loved how respectful she was, always looking at your face and not your body, but now you kind of wanted her to look.

"Lets start with this one..." She said, already diving into the explanation. You sighed and pretended to listen.

—

She had been explaining for about 30 minutes and surprisingly, you actually understood something, she was a really good tutor. But you just couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted her so bad.

"Baby my head hurts. Can we take a break?" You lied, knowing it would make her worry a little.

"Oh baby of course lets take a break." She placed her hand on your thigh, noticing you were wearing extra short shorts. Her eyes widened slightly as she cleared her throat.

"Baby! Why did you...Sorry umm why is your skirt s—so short..." Her hand was now covering her jeans. Finally. Took her long enough to notice. You smirked at her and her face got red in a second.

"Stop hiding from me baby..." You tied your hair before slowly making your way under the table. She shifted in her seat nervously.

"Baby w—we can't here...People will see..." She gulped still keeping her hand on the bulge in her pants.

"Be quiet then puppy..." You removed her sweaty hands slowly kissing her palm. She looked around the library and you knew already that it was almost empty. Come on everyone knew Minjeong was one of the nerds who went there everyday.

"But y—your head hurts..." She placed her hand over yours that was now at the zipper of her pants.

"Stop making excuses baby, just relax. Let me give you a reward for making me understand math...Hm?" She gulped, nodding quickly as you traced patterns on her bulge through the pants.

"Please b—baby..." She was so cute. You didn't even start and she was already looking like she was close. You took your time taking her jeans off and then touching her through her boxers.

"Mmmhh...Babyy p—please..." She was now a whining mess but still trying to keep quiet. Poor baby.

You pulled the underwear down too slowly, teasing her. She shifted again, closer toward you. You didn't waste time wrapping your mouth around her length. Minjeong was big, but fit perfectly in your mouth.

"A—ah Y/N..." Her hand went to your hair pushing you more. You looked up at her to see that she was sweating, her mouth slightly opened and looking down at you.

"Please...Keep going love..." She begged and you obeyed. You pushed her whole length in your mouth holding it there for a couple of seconds before going back to just the tip, but she stopped you half way pushing you back to swallow her whole.

"Ahhh...Mmmhh b—baby...So so so good....You're so g—good to me—" You wanted to tease her so you cut her off by getting her cock out of your mouth as she whined.

"N—no no no no...P—please baby..." She literally started to cry wiping her tears and trying to keep quiet. You didn't wanna tease her no more so you took her in your mouth and she instantly came in your mouth grabbing your hair tightly as she twitched inside your mouth.

After a couple of seconds she calmed down and you pulled her pants up as she zipped her jeans still panting a little.

"So when is the next tutoring session babe?" You gave her a peck on the cheek wiping her sweaty face.

A/N: im running out of ideas soooo bad also first time writing gp i really hope it came out decent...😔🦧

#kim minjeong x fem reader #minjeong x fem reader #aespa x fem reader #fem reader #wlw #aespa fic #winter aespa #winter x fem reader #kpop smut

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locomoqo · 7 months ago

Note

Omg i loved your latest fic!!! What if they actually got their lovers pregnant? How would gun+goo react😫😫??

Also Keep up the good work!✨💘

be my baby

ft. gun park & goo kim x f!reader [separate]

details: a part 2 to this fic! this is pure fluff, no funny business

A/N: all the fluff content lately bc my mind is kinda too fried to write smut atm😵‍💫 (BUT i am in the middle of writing those reqs so stay tuned) reblogs are appreciated ^^ enjoy!!

ᯓ★—GUN

Gun’s noticed how off you've been acting ever since he got here. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells around him, which makes him wonder if something’s bothering you—or if maybe he's the problem. Deciding to address it, he approaches you in the kitchen where you're carefully arranging fruit in a bowl. It’s a simple task, but you’re putting an unusual amount of focus into it.

“You’ve been quiet since I got here,” he finally speaks up, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “Somethin' upset you?” His brow arches in question, but you remain silent, pressing your lips into a thin line.

In truth, ever since Gun arrived, you've been caught in a swirl of excitement and nerves. This morning, you realized your period was late, so you took a pregnancy test. When it came out positive, you were thrilled. But as the day went on, your excitement began to mix with anxiety. What if Gun didn’t feel the same way? What if all those whispered promises during intimate moments were just words spoken in the heat of passion?

You snap back to reality, still holding an apple. After staring at it for a moment, you sigh and set it down, turning to face him. “Can… can I tell you something?” you ask hesitantly, meeting his eyes. His eyebrows lower as he studies you, giving a brief nod. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes before finally saying,

“I’m… pregnant.”

Gun’s expression remains unreadable, though you can feel the shift in the air. The silence stretches out, long enough to make you second-guess everything—especially what might be going through his head.

“You’re… pregnant,” he repeats slowly, his gaze shifting to your stomach. You nod, confirming it. Hesitantly, he reaches out, his hand finding your waist and pulling you closer, his thumb brushing lightly over your belly. His touch is soft, as if he’s trying to process the news through feeling alone.

“You okay?” you whisper, your voice as soft as a breeze. He doesn’t respond immediately, and when he does, his voice is quieter, more vulnerable. “Yeah,” he nods, still processing. His eyes return to your belly, a look crossing his face that you’ve never seen before—a mixture of awe, fear, excitement, and uncertainty all at once.

A small, amused smile tugs at his lips. “Can’t believe I’m going to be a father,” he huffs softly, still stroking your belly through your shirt. The tension in your shoulders melts away, relief flooding you at his calm reaction. He’s not opposed to the news—far from it.

You smile at him, glancing down at your stomach. “I can’t believe it either,” you say. Gun steals a glance at you. You’re saying something, but the content of your words is lost on him, he’s too focused on the happiness glowing on your face.

He’s always been protective of you, but now that you're carrying his child, that protectiveness feels stronger. It’s not suffocating, but it’s there. After all, he has two things to lose now.

While Gun has never been the most verbally expressive, he shows his love and support through his actions. You’ll notice it in the small things—how he places a steadying hand on the small of your back when you walk, or how he’s always ready to help you stand when you’ve been sitting too long. He’ll quietly ensure you’re taken care of, like refilling your prenatal vitamins without you asking or indulging your late-night cravings with meals he cooks himself, no questions asked.

Sometimes, you’ll wake in the middle of the night to find his hand resting protectively on your belly, or catch him staring at different spots in the house, mumbling to himself about baby-proofing everything.

“You’ll make a good father,” you tell him one night, your voice filled with quiet certainty.

He freezes for a moment, clearly taken off guard by the weight of your words. He swallows, averting his gaze as if needing a second to collect himself. Then, he reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “We’ll see,” he murmurs, his voice softer than usual, with just the faintest hint of uncertainty slipping through.

But his hand stays in yours, and in that simple gesture, you know he’s in this with you.

ᯓ★—GOO

It’s a quiet evening, and Goo is flipping through the channels with ease, though his mind is filled with concern. You've been acting a bit different since he got home. He catches the way you open your mouth as if to say something, but then quickly close it, shaking your head. It leaves him wondering what you’ve been wanting to tell him.

The moment you finally call his name, his head turns toward you instantly, all of his attention now focused on you.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes locked on yours. You're fiddling with the fabric of your shirt, clearly nervous about whatever it is you’re about to say.

“I’m... I’m pregnant.”

There’s a brief pause. For a split second, his face is unreadable. Then, slowly, that familiar grin spreads across his lips, but this time, it’s different. Softer. He blinks a few times, processing your words before saying, “Wait, what? You mean... we’re having a baby?”

When you nod with a small, uncertain smile, he’s up off the couch in an instant, pulling you into his arms. “So that’s why you’ve been acting all weird. You were nervous about telling me this?” He grins, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Should I start growing some facial hair? You know, to get that dad look going?” he jokes, and your laughter, as always, is music to his ears.

“I can’t even imagine you with facial hair,” you giggle, cupping his cheek. “You’d look ridiculous.”

But as the seconds pass, you notice a subtle shift in his expression. The playful spark in his eyes dims just a bit, replaced by something more serious. He gazes at you, and for the first time since you broke the news, you see the weight of it settle in.

“I’m going to be a father…” he murmurs, his hand resting gently on your stomach. “Are you... okay? I mean, with everything? How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice softer than usual, filled with genuine care.

Goo isn’t the type to be serious often, but you know he’ll be by your side, teasing you about your cravings or cracking jokes about your baby becoming a mini genius like him. It’s his way of keeping things light, making sure you don’t get too overwhelmed by everything. Despite his jokes, you can sense his protectiveness, he just hides it behind his humor. He's always checking in with you, offering to get you things, giving you random foot rubs, and—on more than one occasion—trying to cook for you!

One night, when the baby starts kicking for the first time, Goo’s reaction is surprisingly tender. His hand is on your belly immediately, his expression softening in a way you rarely see. “Whoa… that’s... so weird,” he murmurs, which earns him a playful smack on the arm from you. His eyes widen as he feels the tiny flutter of movement beneath his palm. But you catch the glint of something else in his gaze—fear. Just a hint of it, quickly masked by his usual easygoing smile. “Think we’ve got a future fighter on our hands.” He jokes.

Despite the joke, you know what’s really going on. He’s feeling the weight of it all, even if he hides it behind his playful banter. You run a hand through his hair, offering him a reassuring smile. “Everything’s going to be fine,” you whisper, and for a moment, he just looks at you, all traces of humor gone. He nods, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

That's all it takes for him to quietly promise himself that he’ll do everything to ensure you and the baby have the most comfortable life possible.

388 notes · View notes

janovavalen · 4 months ago

Text

i’ll do anything for you ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ dae-ho ( 388) x fem!reader

summary: during a round of mingle, dae-ho meets someone very interesting who seems to also be very beautiful; although, looks can be very deceiving.

word count: 3.9k

warnings; mentioned of guns, shooting, blood, slight obsession but it’s never outright said.

mingle. the game that where to test loyalty, understanding, and where your true intentions lie.

looking around, dae-ho and his small team of players he liked to call friends were out on a pedestal when another player came alone. she’d been begging for help and showing her tremendous flaw.

she’d been pregnant.

what was he to say to that? if and when he gets out of here and he brings up he said no to a pregnant woman, very soon to be mom, his sisters would light him up.

spinning around the room on the plate along with everyone else who’s managed to survive in this messed up situation. they’d all grouped up with each other to make sure they knew where everyone was, and what the plan was.

jun-hee hunched over in pain, she’d been tired all day and the light before was no help, dae-ho asked how she slept and she stated she tried to sleep but couldn’t because of the pain in her legs and back.

he felt horrible for her and even more horrible that he had that cursing reminder of his choice to stay still labeled on his jacket.

‘what do we do if it’s two..’ dae-ho asked in worry. gi-hun looked at him in a hurry and turned to 001 next, he let his mouth hang a second before gi-hun picked up—

‘there’s seven of us..six of us have a group and that leaves…’

‘only one without someone’ 001 mumbled while looking at gi-hun, he looked over at each of everyone just when the spinner stopped.

‘two!’ the woman's voice yelled. everyone became rushed. worried, panicked and frightened.

dae-ho looked at his group, he had this heroic persona and knew what he had to do, he knew what he wanted to do—‘you all go! i’ll find someone!’ he yelled before running and reassuring everyone, his hand giving a tight squeeze for gi-hun and jun-hee.

‘one!’ he yelled while everyone ran past him to get a room and he started to panic. the timer seemed to go faster than before and he didn’t know what to do. his breath quickened in a fastened past, his mind was hurting beyond comprehension.

‘one?’ a voice spoke. a very soft voice if anything.

turning to the side to see a s/c woman with h/l hair, he nodded and knew it wasn’t time to study anyone or question why their here, it’s only time to find a room and survive.

grabbing her wrist and finding an open room before the timer went off he slapped it shut on someone’s face and cringed immediately.

their screams echoed on the other side of the door and he covered his ears in a quick motion. the girl in the room stayed silent, giving him time to breathe and try and erase the sound of distant shots being fired just outside the room before them.

she noticed how bad he shook and she bit her lip a bit, unsure of what to do.

‘it’s okay…’ she whispered. stepping over to him and letting her hand ghostly run down his shoulder she didn’t want to touch him but she wanted to comfort him.

she noticed how he seemed to realize this and let his hands slowly fall from his ears. looking at her with the slightest bit of warmth, she gave a small smile and nodded. the doors unlocking all in sync with the same clicking noise throughout the room, everyone opened the doors.

dae-ho opened the door for the two and looked outside, his friends all smiling and looking at him as they walked to each other to group up. before he left however, he turned to look at the new girl.

‘you have anyone?’ he wondered. she looked at him and smiled, shaking her head.

‘no..i’ve been on my own since i got here..i don’t know anyone and don’t know who to trust really…’ she spoke, he smiled and nodded his eyes and turned to his friends.

‘come on, trust me. you’ll like them. everyone is very nice and funny at times’ he says while turning his body and tilting his head in their direction.

smiling and walking with him, he grouped up and reassured everyone how this new girl basically saved his life almost right before the timer went off.

‘oh! she looks so sweet too!’ geum-ja gushed while making her way over to her with her son locked in on her arm. smiling, the girl thanked her deeply.

‘she’s right, what’s your name?’ gi-hun asked and wondered while he studied her. something about her reminded him of someone. he couldn’t place it, not well anyway, and especially not now.

‘oh, i’m l/n y/n’ she gave a smile to everyone, 001 however, had been stone cold since she’d walked over which was different from how he was just smiling with others, she seemed to return this expression.

‘a beautiful name for a beautiful girl! aw! my son would be lucky to have someone like you, huh! yong-sik?’ geum-ja shook her sons arm while he apologized to y/n who seemed to be blushing and laughing at the same time. dae-ho smiled and realized how y/n didn’t move an inch from next to him.

a weird feeling made him feel like he was someone who’d been saved and she was his hero of the day. if he were back at home he’d have his sister draw her as a badass superhero you see in action movies.

he smiled to himself as she waved her hand to brush off the son’s apology for his mothers comments as they all made their ways back to the bigger room.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

sitting in their beds, hours after getting back, gi-hun had mentioned his master plan to put an end to the games. the amount of people had leveled out too perfectly, 50/50 knowing almost 13 in each team died.

dae-ho had been willing—more than willing, to help the bunch. he wanted to put an end to this and knew his past marine help would further support their efforts.

the others making a plan on how to set this in motion, dae-ho walked over to hyun-ju who’d been crying silently with a still face.

‘you okay?’ he wondered. sitting down next to her while she looked over at him—‘huh? oh..no? not really’ she sadly laughed and sniffed.

‘what happened?’ immediately filled with worry, dae-ho turned to hyun-ju and tried to get more out of her to understand but failed and didn’t want to push.

looking over his shoulder to see y/n, looking at him before she turned her head to get the fact she was caught out of her mind, hoping he didn’t realize her…he did.

he was a bit startled if anything. something about her eyes were so translucent and voided, but also full and tired. he wouldn’t lie to himself, she had beautiful eyes, she was a very beautiful person and if anything in any other circumstances he’d probably get his sisters to ask her out for him.

but they weren’t here, and these weren’t the right circumstances.

‘dae-ho..come over, we need to talk about it.’ gi-hun tilts his head to the side leaving dae-ho confused.

talk about what? what was this ‘it’ that they needed to talk about and why now when the next game is not too far away.

standing up and walking over silently they all began to whisper. gi-hun started to explain and describe in detail what was about to happen and how.

he explained that everyone needed to create a fake fight, the players were limited, meaning they were very limited on game players and winners that would get money, also meaning, whoever was in charge in this sick and twisted game would stop anyone else from dying.

a lesser number of players equaled no game and a hard play winner. everyone would be near tables that were lifted, to avoid being shot down and hurt since everyone knew they’d immediately open fire. their plan was to leave at least four to three players out to fake their death from the fight.

later on, guards will be stuck looking for other players and breaking up fights at gunpoint, once they’re done with the room of dead bodies, that’s when they’d take their action.

dae-ho was on board with all of this, he was ready for whatever and knew how to hold a gun, sure he may have personal problems but his main concern was getting all of his new friends out and getting to his sisters.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

late night grew and the plan was in motion, dae-ho had to be a member of the fake dead along with having to fight the guards and taking their guns.

walking over to places where players might have been hiding to keep a eye on them, he saw y/n standing next to the bathroom door, did she know what was going on?

walking over to her with hesitation, making sure he didn’t startle her too much, she’d been biting her nails in an irritated manner, did someone tell her something that she didn’t like? or did she see something.

‘hey, you alright? i hope i'm not bothering you or anything i just saw you were all alone and i didn’t want you to be out on the plan’ dae-ho asked softly.

‘oh, yes, i’ve been told. i’m okay, just tired I guess…I would've never expected this to turn out like this. i should've minded my business’

at this time he didn’t think much about what she’d said, but he couldn’t shake the fact that she looked so irritated and angry, her eyes glaring forward and the translucent look in them.

‘it’s okay, we all regret it..well some of us anyway, that old man has no regrets’ he joked trying to soften her mood. y/n turned and looked at him and cracked a small smile, moving her thumbnail away from her lips that she’d been biting on previously, and crossed her arms.

‘yeah, he doesn’t understand but i think in time he will, anyway. what’s your part in this?’ she turned her body to look at him.

‘i’m supposed to fake dead, and grab the gun, i hope i can in time—‘

‘i’m sure you will. the guards don’t look too smart, only know how to aim and shoot, they truly know nothing about basic survival skills honestly’ she laughed a bit as he did too.

‘oh well y’know..not a lot of people have that especially in here at the moment’ he placed his hands under his armpits, his muscles becoming more prominent along with his tattoo. y/n noticed this and felt her breath shallow, she looked up at him and smiled.

‘but anyway..what’s your life out here like?’ he wondered. something about her was very different, he’d never met someone with the amount of energy she had around her.

‘school mostly, my dad isn’t really home, he takes his business elsewhere. i’m mainly home alone as well, i guess i went to go to college in new york but i don’t want to leave my dad here all alone’ she expressed.

‘oh okay! well, i’m mainly the same way, i already graduated however, and i was in the Marines, i have sisters—four of them, and i mainly take care of them. i don’t really do much with myself other than that i guess’ he shrugged and looked at y/n who’s eyes looked so pretty, her eyes wide and curious.

‘well, im sure when you get out of here you’ll take someone on a date or something? being in here seems like it changed your perspective on life itself’ she wondered even further. her nervously smiled and laughed a bit looking away from her—‘no no, i mean maybe? i don’t normally do that’ he stuttered a bit.

‘hm..’ she smiled and looked him up and down—‘well, then i’ll ask you. when we get out of here, how does a date sound? you seem like a loud and fun guy so probably an open arcade or bar? you drink right?’ she says with a tilted head. his heart sank, she was asking him out? like seriously? right now?

his mouth opened and clothed with pure blush all over, the tips of his ears bright red—‘i mean, yeah i do—‘

‘then a arcade with drinks it is’ she smiled while looking at his reaction further.

she was really sweet, she had a voice like honey, a little soft but scratchy. he could very honestly speak to her all day in better terms. she was really beautiful too, in a certain light. her eyes didn’t look so emotionless anymore, and scary. more sweet and flirtatious .

‘dae-ho, y/n! let’s go..’ gi-hun waved the two over before turning back around.

‘well, i guess it’s time’ he nervously walked as she noticed, her hand running along his shoulder blades and rubbing them in a comfortable manner, she spoke—‘it’ll be okay, you won’t get hurt…okay?’ walking away with her touch lingering behind him, he felt his heart jump a bit before he could shake the feeling he felt himself smile.

shaking his head to forget the feeling he ran to the group and it all began.

laying on the floor with blood on his white and green tracksuit, y/n laid next to him, her hair messily covering her face and her body looked like she’d been tossed to the ground.

the guards walk in as the players fake fought with loud screams and grunts, fake punches were being thrown and kicks too. not even a minute later, the guards were in the room and in front of every player, searching for other ones in the beds. standing in front of the ones who fought to them at gunpoint as they looked fake shocked, scared was a definite.

a small beeping noise was made not too far away from dae-ho and y/n as they laid on the floor and waited.

not to far apart, the noise was right next to him, dae-ho jumped up and punched the guard in the stomach, leaving the guard tumbling over holding his stomach, y/n jumping up and wrapping her legs around the guard to keep him in his spot.

dae-ho hurried and ran up the stairs to the bed and grabbed the glass bottle they’d hid. jumping from the small jump and smashing the glass onto the guards head as y/n felt his body go limp, she moved herself away from the unconscious body and grabbed his guns.

handing on to dae-ho who thanked her but also wondered if she could actually use the one she has. having no time to wonder anything, ever guard in the room was evacuating.

y/n running towards guards and fighting them without much effort, she moved swiftly, dodging punches and throwing her own kicks to the sides.

‘y/n!’ 001 yelled and tossed her a glass bottle. she looked and caught it with ease, smashing it above the guards head to soon use the broken piece to stab him in the side.

dae-ho had been keeping an eye on her for safety measures, but from the looks to it, she had it and in a very attractive way.

not soon later, guards started to evacuate the room in a hurry with the sound of the child like a voice yelling ‘retreat, retreat’ over and over.

the big doors started to shut slowly and not too far behind was a guard in red, he’d fallen and been stuck behind, the doors shutting immediately in his face as she banged on them to open, frantic on what he might go through with these people.

and his very existence would be their key out.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

walking out of the room with guns latched onto the players who either had experience with them or knew how to overall. using the red suited guard to lead them to the main headquarters, shots were fired.

‘duck! Lean down now!’ gi-hun yelled as he gripped his gun next to him. y/n leaned down along with dae-ho who was right next to her, their shoulders close together and practically squeezed into each other.

a small part of him was using his body as a shield to protect her from any shots that may have gotten in from the side of them, y/n was safe in the middle of him and gyeong-seok.

dae-ho slightly shook with each shot being blown into the distance.y/n looked at him, unbeknownst to him, with worry and anger.

‘i can go over there and get closer to the top with hyun-ju, she can shoot and i'll need her back up. if we can get to the top we will get a clear view of the room!’ y/n told gi-hun who looked and thought before nodding, 001 however looked as though he were telling her no with his eyes and she smiled very softly before looking at dae-ho.

he hurried and looked at her shaking his head—‘wait. what? what’s dangerous right? we can’t send them only on their own—‘

‘i’ll be fine..okay? i’ll make sure you guys get up there’ holding her gun close before dae-ho grabbed her arm and stopped her but didn’t know what to really say, she just smiled and pulled herself away.

y/n and hyun-ju crouched behind the wall as the gripped their guns tight, she gave a signal to start shootout and that’s exactly what y/n did, the both of them standing in opposite directions started to open fire on the guards who’s shot back.

quickly getting the whole view of the room she could see how many there were. groaning and rolling her eyes at the camera, shooting at it in anger.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

the group made their way up and up as y/n and hyun-ju cleared half the room, dae-ho shot in a random direction as he stayed hidden behind the wall to get away from any danger, screaming and yelling as they all shot back.

not too far away y/n and 001 had magically met up—‘hey..get over here’ he’d managed to get himself alone and with her.

‘what were you thinking—‘ grabbing onto her arm and gripping it as y/n looked at it and scoffed.

‘get the hell off of me’ snatching her arm back and gripping her gun before he grabbed onto her once more—‘what do you want!’

‘leading them up? clearing the room? i let you in here that was a far enough stretch, you doing this is way more than we agreed on—‘ he harshly whispered.

‘get over it! i told you if he were here i’d be here too and i’d play like a player, your here because of gi-hun, looks like we do have something in common huh?’ y/n smirked and walked away before a guard walked into her path.

‘move’ she ordered and they didn’t.

‘are you serious?’ turning around to her dad and rolling her eyes as his own guards stood next to him with his black clothes and mask.

rolling her eye and shoving the gun onto the guard's stomach, making him grunt in pain, she laughed a bit to herself—‘i want him in there asap!’ walking to the direction of the main headquarters without being seen, 001–her dad, rolled his eyes and rolled his neck.

‘you heard her..get dae-ho’

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

he’d failed to come back with the ammo they all needed, desperately.

huddled in the corner of the room on the bed as the old woman and her son tired to give him courage to leave out again to give them the ammo they needed, two guards game in with their guns, but something sticking out of their pocket.

going straight for dae-ho, he looked up and started to move backwards on his hands, shaking and whimpering very lightly with a plea to just let him go home, a guard shoved his hand in his pocket, bringing out a glass bottle and a napkin.

‘what..what are you doing with him? hey!’ a player yelled before the other guard stepped in and placed his gun in his face. the player shook and sat down.

‘wait..please—‘

putting the napkin on his nose as he shook and fought back, he failed and passed out in a instant

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

waking up, he looked around the room in a daze.

‘hey..wake up..dae-ho?’ the soft and scratchy spoke, it was y/n..

‘what is this..where am i?’ he looked around in the dark room and he could only see the small like that pointed his eyes onto y/n’s soft ones.

‘your safe…i saved you, like i said. i’d never let you die in there dae-ho’ she softly moved his hair out of his face as he stood up and looked around the room. it was decorated like a regular bedroom, small plants, posters, anime figures and a bed, along with a tv and what looked like a gaming set.

where the hell was he right now? was it all a dream? was everything that happened some sick past like memory and this is his future life with his wife y/n? even if that was true he’d never complain.

‘i know this might seem strange but we don’t have to talk about it now..just know, i know more about you than you think and id never let anything hurt you..you have to believe that’ y/n soothed him even further as she seemed to reach over to a water bucket and cloth, ringing it out and holding it to his head.

cleaning dried blood and sweat, he groans.

‘no i was to know where i am, what’s going on..’ he looked at her as she looked back at him. standing up and walking away from him in a completely new outfit, baggy sweatpants, and a sleeveless top, slippers and her hair done neatly almost like she was fresh out the shower, she turned the light on so he could see better.

looking down below him he seen the floor and it glowed light colors, his face lightly up with his number.

‘what..’ scooting away as she walked closer she leaned down on the floor, her knees into the ground and her hand on the floor.

‘don’t be afraid of me..i never would’ve let you continue thoes games…but my father wanted you to play. thats why i needed to get in there and help you, please dae-ho understand i never did anything to hurt you—‘

‘wait..wait, your dad? the creator of these games? and you let others die but..you stepped in the help me?’ He squinted his eyes and she softly smiled, crawling over to him slowly, getting up to him so that he knees were supporting her upper body, she gently placing her arms i’ve this frozen body, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her hand resting on the back of his head, her nails combing through it as he let her.

but this isn’t right? his friends? one of them being pregnant—he couldn’t just—

‘i’ll help you, with your friends too..put an end to these games..i’ll do anything you ask’ he let his arms wrap around her waist and sighed with his eyes closed.

she were to help them..and he would get out of here with her.

#squid game #squid games #player 388 #squid game 388 #388 x reader #dae ho #player 388 x reader #kdrama #obsessive love

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sociopathicartist · 2 months ago

Note

NEED SOME MORE NIGHTMARE CRUBS, I AM EATING YOUR WRITING UPPP

here you go :)

PART 5 OF THE SERIES APRICITY

TW: MENTIONS OF TORTURE / ABUSE

Obfuscate - To throw into shadow, to darken, to create unsurity.

If someone asked Nightmare when he began to like you, he would laugh in their face.

Him? Like anyone? No.

It wasn’t just that he was self-absorbed and conceded, but he emotionally could not love people. He was made of negativity- evil. It consumed his being and made him crazy. Loving someone was impossible, and liking someone was extremely difficult for him when he sought out the flaws in everyone except himself. You were no exception.

He was merely… Amused by you. You despised him, and honestly? It pissed him off. But he was also intrigued by your confidence and persistent denial of him despite the fact that it didn’t benefit you in any way possible.

If you ran, he could cut off your legs.

If you talked back to him, he could rip out your vocal cords.

And you weren’t stupid, you knew how strong he was and that he could not only strip away any freedom you had- but kill you at any given moment.

But yet, you disobeyed his rules. You were clearly testing your limits on what you could get away with, and he had half a mind to smack you across your pretty face for being so difficult with him- but he was just so….

So…

…

Amused.

How could he not be? He was giving you a luxurious room, delicious meals, and comfortable clothes- you had your every whim tended to while you were in the castle. Anything you asked for you would receive.

And yet, the only thing you asked for was for him to let you go.

Weirdly enough, your refusal to give in to him and accept your life now reminded him of himself whenever he was just a child.

Stubborn. Arrogant. Looking up at the night sky and wondering if this is all that the world has to offer you. If being bullied, mistreated, and stuck was all you would know.

Fortunately, that was not his life anymore. It hadn’t been for five hundred and six years. But he had a good hunch that it was becoming yours.

It was almost like he was watching a rat in a maze. He was so intrigued by what you would try to do next in an attempt to set him off, and it was hilarious to see you try to make friends with the three idiots working for him. They were psychotic murderers who wouldn’t be entranced by your kindness. They’d murdered families, innocent people, and children, whose to say you weren’t next?

Not that he would let them kill you. He wanted you to break first. He wanted to see as you became apathetic and cruel when you realized that no matter how hard you tried- you would never escape. He could already see you beginning to lose yourself, it was apparent just by looking at your disheveled state, and god did it make him feel good.

He had taken you from his brother, removed you from the comfort of your home, and stripped your freedom right from your hands. Since you had absorbed his magic after he stabbed you upon your first meeting, his negativity didn’t affect you as it did most people who could feel. Every negative emotion that came from you was genuine and untainted, and that made you so much more fun to toy with.

So… he just couldn’t grasp why every time you looked at him seeking comfort, he felt… pity? He had grown to look at you almost like you were some pet of his that he could take care of.

Nightmare’s cruelty reminded him of how he was treated before he became corrupted, and it was baffling to him that you sought him out after everything he’s put you through. It didn’t make sense, and that was all the more of why he took fascination in studying you.

Nightmare had spent the past five hundred and six years curating his life. He’s built the luxurious castle he lived in, he had an outstanding staff, many allies up his sleeve- and not to dote- but extremely strong powers. There were no true multiversal gods, but he might as well be the next best thing. Anyone who denied those factors was just ignoring his potential, because, like it or not, Nightmare is all those things. The only real competition against him was the other guardian- Dream- and even then he still struggled to compete.

But despite being made of evil, Nightmare wasn’t all horrible. He didn’t like killing people, (it took away the energy he could milk out from torturing them), he wasn’t prone to lashing out or yelling very much, and he had some rather peaceful hobbies.

He didn’t know what you thought of him, but he had a pretty good idea.

For one, he saw your interest in him despite how much you tried to hate him. You had tried to picture him as some… thing, to de-personalize him. It was obvious to him how much you derealed him when he kept seeing the shock in your expression every time you found out about his hobbies or normal life. It was like it was incomprehensible for you to think about Nightmare doing things without it stemming from evil.

Yes, he liked to read. Yes, he was calm and composed unless provoked. Yes, he enjoyed small moments where he could be alone and listen to the rainfall. He had a personality, he was almost likable. He could see how frustrated that made you. You couldn’t de-personalize him no matter how hard you tried because, at the end of the day, he was still someone.

It was so fun to keep you teetering between hating him and loving him, he’d do something so horrible that it left you destroyed and speechless, and then he would win you over with your favorite flowers and the swear of a date as soon as the bruise on your neck healed.

Nightmare was convinced that you would keep him entertained until the day you died.

Just like he did once.

He hated reminders of his old life.

It was part of why he was a bit gentler with you. It made somewhere deep down in him feel like he was healing the part of him that died when you smiled despite how much he hated the positive energy. Not that you or anyone else would ever know that- he never shared anything personal about him with anyone.

He did, however, log down his personal feelings into a journal sometimes.

It wasn’t very often that he did so, maybe once or twice every century or so. He wasn’t too fond of the recreational hobby, but he did find that his isolation had consumed his thoughts, and since he didn’t like anyone enough to truly conversate with them, he journaled in a small, black-leathered book tucked away in the third drawer of the desk in his study.

There was this time when you caught him writing, now that he recalled it. Nightmare had been busy scouting the multiverse for a good AU to target and he hadn’t been at the castle for a few days. He came back at night, when everyone was supposed to be asleep in their quarters whether they were resting or not.

How long had it been since he’d logged down his thoughts?

The guardian sat down at his desk and flipped through his leather journal until he found a blank page with an old log next to it. He briefly checked the neatly printed date at the top right corner of the page, reading:

‘December 21st, 1732’.

Damn. His birthday two hundred and ninety-three years ago. Odd.

Nightmare wasn’t a sentimentalist, obviously, so he didn’t ponder on the date and he took out his favorite calligraphy pen and began to scribe down what was circulating through his mind.

Some details about the past two hundred and ninety-three years, some notes about the AU’s he’s discovered, some internal thoughts and questions he had. Writing once every few centuries led him to have a lot to say, so the pages filled up easily.

“Nightmare?”

He froze in his writing upon hearing your quiet voice call out for him. For the first time, you’d caught him off guard.

Nightmare didn’t even bother to look at you before he resumed his writing at a slower pace. “I didn’t give you permission to be in here.”

“I’m not in here.” You responded.

At that, Nightmare looked up from his book to spot you. Well, technically you weren’t in his study. You were standing just outside the entryway staring down at him quietly. There you go again, testing him.

“No, you’re not in here,” Nightmare remarked, capping his calligraphy pen and setting it down on his desk before he closed his book. “What do you want?”

You shrugged, fiddling with your thumbs out of habit. “I don’t know. Just to see you, I guess. You haven’t been around recently.”

To see him? You’ve sought him out before, but this was the first time you’ve openly admitted to wanting to see him. It seemed like the months in the castle had finally grown an urge for you to cling to the only constant person in your life.

Nightmare didn’t say anything at first, staring at you with an unreadable expression. If it was anyone else, he would have told them to leave and quit bothering him the moment they showed up.

But…

“Well, you can’t see me very well from so far away, can you, darling?” His words were an invitation for you to come inside his study, even if the nickname was said in a degrading manner.

You hesitated for a second before slowly stepping past the entryway and into the dimly lit room. Nightmare hated bright lights, so every room in the castle was dimly lit with ambient lamps or candles. It was aesthetically pleasing, really.

“I’ve been wondering where you went.” You spoke softly like he would get mad at you for saying anything, and you were beginning to inch over to stand in front of his desk. “You just vanished.”

Yes, the guardian of negativity did tend to do that. You were the only person who ever questioned it.

“I had some business to attend to.” Nightmare elaborated vaguely in a smooth and low tone. “I’ll be back out again by Tuesday and I will assign you to a new task.”

You didn’t say anything, and Nightmare was convinced that you weren’t processing what he was saying.

“What do you do in here?” You asked, your gaze wandering around his study.

“What?”

“You have an office and then a study, but I don’t see you here as much. Is this like the bedroom of your office?” You explained your question to him as you stepped away from his desk and went to look at his bookshelves.

Hm. You had such a weird way of thinking, but oddly enough, Nightmare understood what you meant.

He was silent as he watched you wander before he said anything else. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

His study was where he kept all of his things that he didn’t want cluttering up his bedroom. The room contained some books he liked, his journal, and a few trinkets he kept neat on a shelf that he’d collected over the past few hundred years. His study was a lot more comfortable than his office, which was used for more professional matters.

It seemed that you got bored of observing his books and trinkets, and you turned your attention back to Nightmare. “I couldn’t sleep… I saw the lights coming from here and thought I would say hello.”

So… You didn’t have a purpose to being here then. You were just making conversation so that Nightmare didn’t kick you out.

“Is that so?” Nightmare tapped his phalanges in a rhythmic order against his desk as he leaned back in his chair to get more comfortable. “Well, you’ve said hello to me now.”

That was a subtle way of his segway to kick you out of his study. He was in a decent mood so he was a lot more patient with you right now.

“I have.” You walked back over to him, but you were a bit bolder this time and you shuffled behind his desk, standing next to him just a few inches away. “Are you happy with what you do?”

Nightmare turned in his chair to face you, and he stared at you in silence, the only sound being the tapping of his phalanges.

Was he happy with what he did?

Of course, he was. He had been ringing up that sweet negativity out from people for the past five hundred years, he lived in a luxurious castle full of servants, and there were millions of people across the multiverse who feared him. He had rebuilt himself into someone different, someone better. Why wouldn’t he be…

Happy?

“I mean- you’ve just been alive for so long, and-“ You stuttered over your words as you tried to explain your question, but Nightmare cut you off.

“That’s enough.” He spoke sharply. “You can go to your room now.”

Well… He didn’t appreciate your question.

You turned to leave, exiting his study and going back to your room without saying anything else.

When the sound of your footsteps faded, Nightmare was alone again, and for a good while he just stared at the entryway to his study. Your question was somehow something he’d never asked himself before, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Was being happy important when he had everything he could want? Was it even possible for him to be happy with himself?

Nightmare uncapped his calligraphy pen and opened his journal back up, smoothing out the page he left off on before his pen hit the paper and he began to write about something outside of himself. Something he hadn’t done before.

‘ I don’t hate them like everyone else, and it sickens me. ‘

…

‘I’m beginning to feel something I haven’t felt for five hundred and six years.”

#undertale #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #sans #sans undertale #sans x reader #sans x you #sap #classic sans #sans headcanons #nightmare sans #nightmare sans x reader #dreamtale #bad sans trio #bad sans gang #bad sanses

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bearieio · 10 months ago

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hockey!abby x f!reader note: i'm a simple person, i like abby, i like hockey..... drools sfw, 721 words

abby is the star hockey player, and newly appointed captain on the ice hockey team associated with your guys’ university

it was truly amazing how well she ended up playing in the semi-finals when you were in the lower bowl of the arena, wearing her teams’ jerseys.

during the break, after 2nd period ended, you caught her staring in your direction from the bench when you looked up from your phone.

she sat with her elbows propped up on her thighs. her cheeks were painted a rosy color and she was huffing up a storm from the previous altercation on the rink.

she sported her signature French braid and her baby hairs stuck to her glistening forehead.

when you looked back up from your phone, it seemed as though her eyes widened and the next thing you saw was her braid whip around as she seemed to turn her head the opposite way quickly.

you’d never talked to her in person before, but apparently, everyone else who attended your guys’ college was familiar with her.

from what everyone in your dorm was saying, she’s somewhat of the “playboy” type 🤨

abby was dazzled by you, to say the least.

she’d first seen you at what you guys later figured out was a mutual friend’s band gig.

the set was amazing btw.

she’d seen you from across the room dancing with your friend in the back of the basement-like location nonstop since the band had started playing.

she studied your facial expressions from the doorway she was leaning against. the way your hips swayed to the rhythm of the song. how your smile didn’t fade for the entire night and your eyebrows scrunched a little when you were really into one of the band’s songs.

before abby could make her way over to you after the set, you and the person you came with were already gone.

abby had tried asking around if anyone at the event knew you but unfortunately, no one said they did.

she was lowkey a #stalker..

the weekend after the semi-finals, the first time you’d both crossed paths, you had a psych exam at 07:30 in the morning.

abby had just been transferred to your dorm hall and was moving her things into the room diagonal to yours.

she’d grown tired of the roommates she had and decided to move into a single dorm to finish out the rest of her junior year in uni.

you were outside your door, rummaging through your bag for your keys that you could’ve sworn you through in there last night.

as soon as abby came out of her dorm, she froze. she couldn’t believe who was in front of her.

her eyes went wide as she gazed at you from her side of the hall.

be cool, abby, she thought to herself.

she couldn’t help but chuckle when she heard you curse under your breath.

“are you lookin’ for those?”

you jumped at the sudden sound of someone talking behind you.

you look back, surprised to see the hockey player leaning against her door, arms crossed, and with a sly-looking smile on her face.

she motioned toward to floor.

when your tilt her head towards where she was pointing, you saw your keys. they’d fallen by your feet while you were rushing to get to your class.

“oh! thank you!” you smiled, picking up your keys and locking your door.

“so uh.. where’re you headed? it’s pretty early,” abby asked, now stepping toward you.

“oh i have a psych exam- I HAVE A PSYCH EXAM!” you realized what you were originally rushing out of your dorm for in the first place.

looking down at your phone- 07:14 AM- it took you around 10 minutes to walk to the building in which your professor said to meet for the test.

“i’m sooo sorry, i have to go!” you quickly announced to the woman.

you were practically sprinting out the door before abby had any time to say another word!

but fret not! abby totally took a long glance at your ass before you were out the door ;)

perhaps if i feel like it, i'll make multiple parts to this cuz i really like the trope, but this piece didn't have that much to do with hockey itself :( BUT IDK YET!! lemme know guys.... 😰

#hockey!abbyanderson #hockey!abby #abby anderson #abby anderson headcanons #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson smut #lesbian #wlw #sapphic #lesbianism #𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐢𝐨 ୧ *.˚₊

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mokie-bleh · 1 year ago

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Um, if you don't mind, can I order a Cookie Run Kingdom Self-awareness Au from you if you don't mind y/n the baker will be a child? And the situation is like this: Child y/n was playing his favorite Cookie Run Kingdom game and one day while y/n was sleeping, Pure Vanilla Cookie suddenly pops out of the child's phone. Pure Vanilla Cookie Saw a charming child on the bed, sat down next to them and began stroking this little boy on the head and gently hugging him kissing his forehead and suddenly Shadow Milk Cookie appeared and saw this moment a little jealous as Pure Vanilla Cookie holds this little boy in his arms and he just smiles sweetly at him with a sly expression saying Hey, what happened? Are you jealous of a little baker for me?

❗STRICTLY PLATONIC FOR CHILDREN❗

If you don't mind of course I I thought thought that would be nice! ^^

Pure Vanilla x child! reader x Shadow Milk

!PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP!

After school you walked back home and dropped your backpack on the floor once you entered your house. You sat at your desk and pulled out your phone from your pocket and went on one of your favorite games. Cookie Run Kingdom. It always brought you some sort of joy especially after a very busy day. You would just go on it for hours or even just a few minutes.

However one thing that you noticed is that one of the cookie characters always seemed to notice you almost like he was aware of your presence. It was Pure Vanilla Cookie. You just got him recently during the Beast Yeast update. There was something off about him once he was in your kingdom though. He would make comments to you as if he was trying to speak directly towards you.

It was unsettling but you thought nothing of it since it was just a game, he was probably programmed to do that.

One day you stayed up really late studying for an upcoming test. You wanted to make sure you passed this test as much as possible, but you slowly started growing tired. You try to keep your eyes open and focus on the words and notes you were reading. Until you passed out from exhaustion and fell asleep right at your desk.

A few minutes passed when all of a sudden your phone turned on and had a soft glowing light on it and then a figure morphed into your room from the phone. Pure Vanilla Cookie appeared and landed on his feet. You were not aware of any of this happening because you were too tired to wake up to see what was happening.

Pure Vanilla walked up to your sleeping form and stared down at you. He then placed a hand on top of your head. “Oh you poor child, how could you work yourself to exhaustion like this?” He said quietly to himself keeping his voice low so as to not wake you. He was always aware of your presence ever since you got him from the gacha. He felt this sense to take care of you, since you were only a child. You never seemed to care for yourself properly which made him worried for your well being, and being a healer it was natural for him to care for someone.

He picked you up and brought you over to your bed. He sat down first and then placed you laying down next to him with your head on his lap. He smiled softly at you, stroking your head gently. You looked so peaceful and he could hear your little snores, he thought it was cute. “If I ever could one day I’d bring you back to my place and take care of you more properly and you wouldn’t have to worry about anything little one.”

Some time passed and he lifted you again to place your head on the pillow and tucked you in under your blankets making sure you were warm and secure. He placed a small kiss on your head and rubbed your shoulders. He didn’t want to leave just yet so he stayed a bit longer.

Pure Vanilla Cookie then realized that your phone turned on by itself again and out came another figure. He looked at them until they finally revealed themselves to be Shadow Milk Cookie. Pure Vanilla calming looked at him and raised a brow “What are you doing here?” he asked. Shadow Milk looked at him with a displeased look on his face as he crossed his arms. “I should be asking you the same question.”

Pure Vanilla then gave him a sly look.

“What’s with the look? Jealous I got to the child first?”

Shadow Milk Cookie was pissed lmao.

part 2!

#crk x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #pure vanilla cookie x reader

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fatuismooches · 1 year ago

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omg i just read a bunch of your work and it’s all so good???? it’s so rare to find imagines fanfic writers that are so clearly passionate about their work and it’s so awesome anyways i have a request !! i absolutely love your frail reader stuff… my health is kinda shit too so it’s really nice to read !! could i ask for dottore trying to attach an IV or help them but they’re scared of needles? dottore realizing they’re not scared of *him* but of just . the needle . and also being really really sweet and gentle while checking everything like vitals and whatnot since being checked up by a doctor puts them on edge usually . BASICALLY i’d looove to see dottore being sweet while working with a patient as opposed to . how he usually is 😭

Dottore is a man who finds himself fascinated by many things. Most obviously, his research. His experiments. The limits of a human being, the stars of this world, the truth of Teyvat. How far he could push himself and others to satiate his curiosity.

And last but certainly not least, you, his darling.

…Who was now huddled in the corner of his lab, refusing to move. Why? Because it was time for you to receive your first shot. You had only recently woken up from sleeping for four hundred years, so he stuck to other forms of medicine rather than needles in the beginning. But it had gotten to the point where needle injections were necessary for your health. However, you certainly didn’t find this new information pleasing.

You’d peek out, see him with that large pointy grin with a needle in hand, and then try to inch even closer to the wall as if you were trying to disappear into it as you whimpered. Now, Dottore finds you predictable and unpredictable at the same time. Predictable because being with you for centuries has certainly allowed his mind to adapt and memorize all of your little quirks and possible reactions. Unpredictable because there are always times he finds himself surprised and then mildly exasperated at your behavior. But that’s what he likes about you. You’re not a boring doll like his other test subjects.

But this reaction… once again, he supposes he expected it but he didn’t at the same time. Funnily enough, Dottore is no stranger to your little tantrums when it comes to taking care of your health. Some kind of bizarre reaction from you wasn’t out of the question because he remembers the first time you ran away from taking your medicine.

—

When you realized your life would consist of daily checkups, your body constantly being hooked up to a lot of different things you really didn’t understand, and a whole bunch of other changes, you thought you could do it. You really did. Sure, it wasn’t easy, and it was scary and confusing and you cried at how different you were now but, you were getting through every day and that was what mattered.

However, ironically, your greatest enemy in life became medicine.

You should be grateful really, to have Dottore as your doctor. Although he certainly wasn’t a doctor to his other “patients”, he most definitely was to you. And he was a terrific one - attentive beyond human capability (not even including his segments), skilled, knowledgeable, adaptable, and attractive was also a good bonus. Hell, if it were anyone else besides him, you’d long be dead.

But one thing you absolutely despise is his talent for making the hardest-to-swallow medicine known to mankind.

Dottore had given you lots of different types of medicine since you woke up, experimenting with which was the most efficient. Although he did study how other bodies reacted to it before it entered your own system, it really didn’t spare you any pain because you always ended up dreading it. It wasn’t fun, no, but you had accepted it as your routine.

Pills weren’t fun, but at least they were a quick swallow after you finished hyping yourself up to drink it. And, they were small or medium-sized. No biggie, right? But then came one time when you were utterly tricked. When Dottore presented you with medicine that you could drink easily rather than a pill, you were ecstatic.

The syrup medicine was a nice color and looked like it would taste fine! But no, you should have known that the Doctor was a deceiving son of a- you get the point. The medicine tasted absolutely horrible, violating your taste buds. You would have spat it out, but it was already almost down your throat. You were genuinely thankful that medicine ended up being unhelpful to you because you don’t think you could have managed to swallow that every day.

Despite how every time you moaned and whined about it, you would steel yourself and take it anyway because you didn’t want to make Dottore’s life any harder, with how diligently he was working on these medicines solely for your sake.

But at one point, you just couldn’t take it anymore. What caused you to snap?

A pill that Dottore presented to you, that looked big even on his large hand. He had looked at you expectantly, while you looked at him incredulously, as your lover then placed it in your hand and set the glass of water to the side for you.

Okay [Name], you’ve endured all these trials so far. Surely you can handle this? You took a deep breath, slowly working up the courage to swallow it as Dottore waited, curiously looking at you. With a burst of energy, you brought it to your mouth, intent on gulping it, but stopped last minute. Your bravery had left you, as you brought the pill back to the table again. There was no way, just no way that was going in your throat without getting stuck. Just the thought of it was making you feel sick and anxious.

“I’m not doing it.” Dottore sighed.

“We’ve been through this countless times, [Name],” he shook his head as he walked to his desk, prepared to gather some things to work on because he was familiar with your agonizing long waits of trying to force yourself to drink your medicine. “Either you take it yourself, or I will be more than happy to help you myself.” The methods Dottore takes to “help” you take your medicine can be left up to the imagination.

“You won’t need to help me… because I’m not drinking that!” In a flash, you had bolted out the door, leaving the doctor alone in the room, blinking and processing what just happened before he rubbed his temples. Never, not once have you run away from taking medicine. Yes, you whined and begged him to let you skip it, just for one day (which he never indulged you in) but in the end, you’d always give in to your fate. Dottore walked over and picked up the pill, examining it. Was it really that bad?

Well, no matter. You’ll end up taking it anyway. His harshness comes from a good place at least, it is for your own sake after all.

Although you did put up a good fight, you never really had any chance of escaping in the first place, considering your rather poor health and stamina (and this is Dottore after all, no one gets away from him). But you just needed to put off that blasted medicine for a while longer, which was why you found yourself in your current situation.

In a stand-off with Omega, who had come to collect you and bring you back to Prime’s office, so you could finally take the pill. Beta was there too, as he was supposed to be helping, but he looked to be amused by the whole thing. Pointy teeth showed through as he watched the whole show, hands in his pockets.

The “show” in question was how you were hiding behind a random Fatui agent, using the poor man as a shield, his soul definitely having left his body by now. Every time the segment tried to come closer, you’d physically move the agent’s body to block him from you. And well, even they couldn’t just kill the man like that. It would be quite funny, were it not for the fact that Omega was beginning to grow impatient and mildly annoyed that the other Fatuis were watching this go down. Not to mention the back and forth you two were having about how important it was for you to take the pill, versus your numerous arguments as to why you weren’t. Beta was just there cackling at the older segment’s predicament. But then all of a sudden, Omega backed off with a smile, giving you a chance to escape once again. Yes, you turned around, ready to dash for it, and then ran right into a solid wall.

There Prime Dottore stood, looking down at you with an unamused expression, at this little cat and mouse game. He didn’t really want to show this level of affection to you in front of the other agents, but he had no choice but to grab you and pick you up in his arms so you couldn’t run away anymore.

The other Fatuis could only stare at the scene, you kicking and flailing your arms, vehemently repeating how you weren’t going to drink that blasted thing, and about how evil and cruel he was. Eventually, he was able to make you swallow the pill, with the help of his other segments holding you down.

In the end, he had to ditch that pill because the struggle and tears you put up after that just weren’t worth it when there were better alternatives.

—

However, at least this time you didn’t run away. Instead, perhaps you thought holing up miserably in the corner would somehow make him sympathize with you and that he wouldn’t give you the needle. Unfortunately, you were incorrect. Dottore’s patients are to receive whatever treatment he deems necessary, even if it is you. Nevertheless, you are indeed a special patient. A special patient who receives special treatment, both medically and emotionally. So, it does make him feel a tiny bit sorry for you, seeing how scared you were.

Though a part of him wonders, are you truly that afraid of a mere needle? Perhaps because he works with it every day, he cannot see how it could cause that much nervousness. Was it because of how he used it on others? Of course, you were no stranger to his less-than-ethical experiments on other people. But surely you knew that you wouldn’t be subjected to such conduct? Dottore ponders for a little while as you continue to crouch in fear. He wonders if he taught Zandy how to use the needle if that would make it less scary for you. But on second thought, you would probably get mad at him for trying to do that to his child segment.

But regardless of what either of you thought, you were getting that injection.

“[Name],” For once, his voice isn’t the normal tone that he takes on when you’re being difficult. So you lift your head and your eyes peek out from your knees as you pout at him. Dottore had set the needle to the side and walked closer to you, reaching his hand out to you, expecting you to get up and take it. With a sigh, you acquiesce and clasp your hand with his as he pulls you from the ground. Though you keep your eyes on the floor and your shoulders drooped, because you know that your fate is imminent. But Dottore tilts your chin so you’re forced to look up at him anyway.

“Why are you so insistent on acting like this?” Your partner questions.

“Because needles are scary,” you whine.

“But I am the one administering it. Nothing will happen.”

“Well, obviously I trust you,” you sigh in defeat. “I know you’d never hurt me. But that doesn’t make needles any less scary. And no matter what you say, I know I’ll still feel that prick of pain! I really don’t want it, Zandik!” You look up at him with pleading eyes. His fingers stroking your hair feels nice but it does little to relieve you of your anxiety. At that, Dottore merely stares for a few seconds before he pulls you to the operating table and helps you up. Well, at least you attempted to change his mind, you thought as you resigned yourself to the pain. You squeeze your eyes and tense your body, preparing for the inevitable prick, but instead, you feel hands slipping down your shirt and cool metal being pressed against your chest. Your eyes pop open as you turn to narrow your eyebrows at Dottore.

“What about the needle?”

“Forget about it. I will handle it another day,” Dottore waves off your concern, and all the stiffness in your body releases. Oh, you were so, so grateful.

“Now breathe in for me,” Dottore requested. “And out. In. Out.” You did what he asked and he hummed as he recorded your heart rate or whatever he usually does, before moving to your back and repeating the same process. You liked how his hands felt on your body. They weren’t rough, uncharacteristically gentle even. Even though right now it was just professional procedures, it felt comforting. His hands always felt comforting.

Now that you think about it, although it sounds entirely untrue, Dottore was… the only doctor you had good experiences with. When you were a kid, you really didn’t like them. They usually… put you on edge. Unlike most children, the promise of candy did little to stop you from getting antsy during a check-up, and even the nicest doctors had their patience tested. But Dottore and the segments, well, despite their… tendencies, they did make you feel a lot better with your condition and all. It was really nice, to have people who wouldn’t give up on you or your health since you’ve been given up on in the past.

“I’ve heard that Alpha has been showing you the collection of Khaenri’ahn machines lately,” Dottore’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was fiddling with the variety of tools he used for the check-up.

“Hm? Oh yeah, we have!” Dottore moved to examine both ears as you spoke. “I mean, studying Teyvat’s new language all the time gets so boring. So I just make him show me the cool stuff during breaks!” Although Zandik’s fascination with the machines was much greater than yours in the Akademiya, his enthusiasm had rubbed off on you too and you found yourself intrigued as well. One thing that had never changed though, was his habit of dumping all his thoughts on you. Seriously, once you got Alpha talking, he wouldn’t stop until every detail of his research had been covered. It was cute. It reminded you of how Zandik used to do the same thing late at night.

“Is that so?” Dottore had moved to check your eye, shining the light at it.

“Mhm! You know, seeing all the things you know now, makes me think back to how much you searched for answers all those years ago. Pushing and pulling me all those places,” you smiled, thinking about how you were always dragged to all parts of Sumeru for him to quench his thirst by hopefully obtaining fruitful results from the expeditions. It was tiring, but good times. You wished you could go back. Dottore then tapped your lips and you opened your mouth as he briefly examined it before returning to his clipboard. For some reason, you feel as though this check-up is dragging on a lot more than usual, but you didn’t really question it because why would you question spending more time with your beloved?

“Yes, and you never failed to complain, did you? You grumbled more than you spoke about the data,” Dottore replied as he continued to do whatever other tests on you before he pulled up your sleeve to wrap the cuff around your arm to check your blood pressure. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re lying! I always engaged in conversation with our research,” you stuck your tongue out at him. “I always pulled my weight! Maybe you were too busy mumbling to yourself and spilling ink everywhere instead of listening to me.” Zandik had a habit of that. Getting too lost in his thoughts and leaving you to babble like an idiot when he wasn’t even paying attention. Dottore only chuckled as he continued to work, pumping the device. You didn’t even notice that he was also preparing a needle with his other hand, because you continued to ramble on.

“And you know what, you were always far worse. In the beginning, you were either talking about research all the time, or complaining about others, or complaining about me.” Just because Dottore was all suave and smooth and poised now didn’t mean you forgot about how much he was not anything of those things back then! The more you reminisced about it, the memories of being slightly infuriated by his attitude came rushing back. So much so that you didn’t register the cuff being swiftly removed from your arm, nor the feeling of Dottore adjusting your arm and the prick of something being injected into you.

“And!! Pantalone always tells me how much you complain to him about not only the budget but also a wide variety of things! And Bina too, I’ve heard numerous stories of those poor agents falling victim to you, hmph,” you awaited a response but Dottore didn’t humor you like he usually did. So you turned to look at him, but instead, he was carefully placing a bandage on you. You blinked once at the sight, then at him, and then at the empty needle on the tray, the contents empty. It didn’t take long for your brain to process what happened.

“You… you tricked me! You said I wasn’t going to get the needle!” You fussed but Dottore only smirked, his sharp shark-like teeth on display.

“Yes, I did. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? Did you feel any pain?”

“Well…” He was right, you didn’t feel a thing. With all the conversation and his quick yet efficient fingers, the needle didn’t hurt. Ugh, so that was Dottore’s plan… getting you all riled up and distracted so he could finish the job. It was sneaky… but as you tenderly brushed the injection site that was a little sore, you were oddly touched… it was sweet. He didn’t need to go out of his way to do this. Really, another large pill situation could have happened.

“No, you didn’t,” Dottore finished the sentence for you before rolling down your sleeve and cleaning up the area. “There was no need for such drama in the first place. I told you that it would be fine.” You pouted at his bluntness. It was a bit mean, but he lived up to his word. You should have expected that. He always does, when it comes to you. “You have to stay here for a bit. I need to see if the shot will have any immediate adverse effects on you.”

“O-Okay,” you replied, still a bit dazed by how Dottore managed to do that. You wondered, just… how quick were his hands?? Then he placed a kiss on your lips, catching you off guard once again, but he pulled away before you could reciprocate. Ah, it was probably his way of saying ‘well done.’

“H-Hey, don’t just walk away! I deserve more kisses for the ordeal I just went through! Come back here!”

Dottore ended up giving you lots of kisses everywhere as he pinned you down on the operating table. If all check-ups ended like this one did, well, you’d look forward to them a lot more…

—

Bonus:

“Dottore?”

“Yes, [Name]?”

“Can you make them… gummy?”

“Make what gummy?” A few seconds of staring at you makes it click in his head. “No.”

“Please!!” Immediately you pull out your best pleading eyes with a pouting lip, having no shame in dropping to your knees and wrapping your arm around his leg in the tightest grip you could muster. “Please, if it were gummies instead of actual pills or needles, I’d never complain!” Dottore sighs, trying to shake you off but to no avail. It seems you’re dead set on this.

“At least some of them, please, I’ll do anything.” By this point, your face is buried into his leg, all but begging for him to make medicine that is gummy. It was so ridiculous it would make him laugh, but the idea of him and his segments having to not go through the unthinkable in order for you to take your medicine is honestly quite appealing to the doctor.

“Alright,” he complies, which causes you to shoot up from the ground and grasp his hands with glee. “I will experiment to see what I can do.” You smile widely before thanking him profusely and kissing his cheeks and then his lips. Although he enjoys your affection, Dottore finds himself wondering if you’re okay yourself, because who gets this excited over gummies for medicine? And then he hears your next question.

“Can you make them different flavors too? And oh, gummy bear-shaped too! By the way, my favorite flavor is-”

“[Name].”

“I’m sorry.”

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cinnbar-bun · 11 months ago

Note

So, have you ever seen those videos of someone with a southern accent speaking Japanese? Can I request a Josuke Higashikata x Fem Reader. Where the reader is from abroad, so they have an accent, and Josuke doesn't really realize it until one day, when they get frustrated, their accent thickens? What would be his reaction? <3

Josuke and a Reader w/ an Accent! (GN Reader)

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~.6k

Notes: Reader is GN! I know you requested for a fem reader but I like to write for everyone, so no pronouns specified, no spoilers for Part 4. Can be read as either romantic or platonic <3

Taglist: @starr-l1ghtt

Josuke knew you were from abroad, but admittedly, it would slip from his mind on occasion. He was just so used to you that he’d forget you weren’t always around in Morioh.

Your Japanese was pretty good for someone from abroad (way better than Josuke’s “delinquent” style of speaking), and your slight accent was just another thing he’d kinda not notice. You spoke Japanese and that was enough for him!

Especially since he knows what it’s like to be considered different for their style of speech, he just doesn’t compute.

UNTIL that is, you were getting frustrated with a study guide for an upcoming test in the class you were in. You were mumbling under your breath, so Josuke couldn’t catch most of what you said, but it was clear you were not happy.

He tried to reassure you that you’d do fine, yet it didn’t do much to soothe you. With an upset sigh, your full accent came out and he was wide-eyed.

You didn’t even notice what you were doing, so caught up in ranting about how annoying the class and the professor were that you let your accent out. You had rambled and ranted for a good while before you paused once you noticed Josuke staring at you with a a slack jaw.

“Huh? Why’re you staring at me like that?”

Josuke doesn’t know how to respond, but he just looks at you in amazement and shock.

“Oh, uh… your voice. It was different for a second.”

If you get embarrassed and flustered, he immediately tries to do damage control and tells you that it’s not a bad thing! Not at all! He just got surprised since he’s used to how you spoke Japanese previously.

“N-no, wait, I didn’t mean it like that! I meant I just didn’t expect that! Please don’t cry! Please! I’ll cry too!”

If you laugh it off, he laughs it off with you. “Seriously, you sounded so different!”

One thing he does admit it right away, though?

“Your accent… it’s so cool!”

He finds your accent awesome. It’s so uniquely you, and it makes you even more special in his eyes. He doesn’t wanna sound weird by saying that out loud though (would that be weird…?), but he’s interested in hearing it more.

Cue the very (un)subtle comments asking you to maybe speak your native tongue.

Especially under the guise of “learning a new language for fun”.

But he’s so bad at paying attention and learning, he flubs it up immensely.

He can’t help it, he’s just really interested in hearing you talk, and when you talk he kinda forgets to think cuz all he hears is your voice and then he wants to hear you talk more and now you asked him a question and crap, what does he say??? What does he say to show he understands what you’re saying???

“Heh. Yeah. Totally.”

“Josuke, I asked what was 4 + 4.”

“Damn it…”

He definitely doesn’t want to come off as rude but he does like to say that he’s interested in hearing your accent more. You’re just one of the coolest people in his eyes so he’s always wanting to know more about you.

He does hope that he can be a safe space for you to talk with your accent or not be embarrassed for it around him.

And trust me, he’s a built in bodyguard too. If someone dares to comment about it or make fun of it, he’ll pummel them quickly with Crazy Diamond. He is NOT allowing anyone to talk negatively about it.

Probably triggers him as quickly as someone commenting about his hair does.

So please don’t feel the need to hide yourself from him! Josuke is a sweetie and he will always gladly listen to you.

#x reader #reader insert #jjba #jojo #josuke x reader #josuke higashikata #josuke 4 #josuke higashitaka x reader #higashikata josuke #jjba x reader #jojo x reader

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ziggyzolch · 1 year ago

Text

Queen Bee-atch III (Regina George x reader)

These chapters have been up on ao3 and wattpad but I figured i'd put them here as well.

Warnings: Cursing, use of F-slur but its kind of stupid so dont worry

✮✮✮

“You look like hell.” It was Thursday and Janis had invited you over. “Thanks,” you mumble out while pushing past her into her house. You could navigate her house blind, it's basically your second home now. You go into her room and flop straight into her bed. “You still having trouble sleeping?” Janis asks while plopping down onto the floor. She was surrounded by music sheets and crumpled up paper, her guitar on the ground next to her. You sluggishly sit up and look at her, “Yeah, I just can’t stop thinking.” “About what?” “Nothing, I don’t know,” You push the palms of your hands against your eyes.

You and Janis have weekly jam sessions. Chilling with your best friend and learning new songs to play together was your favorite pastime. Damien joins occasionally and sings along since you and Janis can’t sing for shit. At least you think so.

“Let’s just find a song then you can nap on my bed or something.” Janis proposes. Getting up, you pick up the acoustic guitar at the corner of the room and make your way to where she was seated. This week was your turn to pick a song.

“You’ll love this song. I discovered it recently and-”

“It’s Alex G again, isn't it? The chords he uses are so weird!”

“Yeah but-”

“Please tell me you have another song.”

You sigh, “I really thought you’d agree to that one. Let’s just play ‘Where is Your Mind’ or something.”

Janis is tuning her guitar when you get a text from your mother.

-We’re going shopping. I expect you to be at the mall in 20 minutes.-

You groan and lay your whole body onto the ground. “I know I’m already here but can I get a raincheck on the session? My mom is dragging me to go shopping” You sigh while getting up. “Yeah, no worries.” Janis replies, unbothered. God you really needed to sleep.

✮✮✮

“Seriously, mother?” Your mom was holding up a pink shirt with ‘baby gurlz’ plastered on the front. She had dragged you to the mall to upgrade your wardrobe. You needed new clothes because, according to your mother, you looked like an ‘emo beggar’. Your mother rolls her eyes “You dress like a hobo that lives at Hot Topic, baby. No offense.” It’s been 3 hours since you came in and you hadn’t found anything you liked. You take the shirt out of her hands and place it back on the rack.

“Can we just go home? I have an English test tomorrow and I haven’t started studying.” The lie comes out easily. In reality, you just wanted to nap. It’s been 3 days and you’ve gotten a total of 2 hours of sleep. A sigh comes out of your mothers mouth, “You know what, go sit in the car, you’re wearing whatever I buy you. Your outfit is going to be on your desk tomorrow morning.” She could buy you a dinosaur onesie and you wouldn’t care, you just wanted to nap.

✮✮✮

Unsurprisingly, the nap plan didn’t work out. You passed out eventually though, an hour before school, but at least it was something. You were now at your locker, clad in a white crop-top and baby blue skirt that was way too short. You hadn’t actually realized what your mother had picked out until a wide-eyed Damien grabbed your shoulder and dragged you to the bathroom. “Girl, what are you wearing? Also, did you lose weight?” You look at Damien confused, until you turn to the mirror. “Oh what the f-”

“Damien? What poor girl did you drag- the fuck?” Janis looks at you in shock, Cady standing behind her, while you stare back equally mortified. “You look like a pastel emo, dude.” Janis says while walking up to you and spinning you around. You stomp your foot. “Stop! I already feel bad enough.” You whine while pushing Janis off you and turning back to the mirror. Damien walks up behind you and stops your hands that were pulling at your shirt. “Girl you got bod, and those clothes lowkey look good on you.” Your eye roll is interrupted by the bell ringing. Shit.

Your thoughts start going crazy as you’re walking to English class. God they can see my legs! They probably know you don’t usually wear skirts. They’re probably all like: ‘look at her. You know she usually doesn’t wear skirts?’

Before you know it, you're sitting at your desk in English class, looking at your notebook. When did you get here? Huh, time flies when you’re having fun. You’re giggling at your own joke when you hear someone clearing their throat next to you. Regina?

“Did you hear anything I just said? Are you even actually physically present? It’s like I’m talking to a wall.” Regina raises an eyebrow waiting for a response. “Oh uh, hi.” You mumble out pathetically. She lets out a mocking ‘hi’ before continuing, “Anyways, I’ll pick you up after school for our project.” Project? What? You look up at the board and finally notice the list of instructions written down for a book report you had to do, with details of the partners the teacher had assigned. How much of the class had passed? Your question is answered when the bell signaling the end of the period rings.

You stand up too fast and start swaying before Regina gets up and holds you by your waist to steady you. “Woah there, slow down babe,” She pauses and looks you up and down. She bends down slightly to stare directly into your eyes and taps your cheek, “Cute outfit. See you after school.”

She packs her things and walks past you into the hallway.

You really need to sleep.

✮✮✮

It's like the bottom of your skirt was a mountain climber the way it kept hiking up with every step you took. At least it's almost the end of the day. One more period and you'd be on your way home. You were dragging your feet across the hall when you felt a slap on your ass. You turn around to see one of the jocks ,that you couldn't for the life of you remember the name of, smirking down at you.

Curse him out! Why are you just standing there? Your mouth flops open and closed like a fish, trying to come up with a devastating insult.

"F-Faggot."

...What the fuck? Your eyes widened. Before you could properly process what you said, you were pushed up against a locker with the jock impossibly close to you. "Say that again, slut." He grits his teeth, pushing you further into the locker. You're suddenly released and a very angry Regina was holding him by his shirt collar. "Apologize to her." You'd hate to be on the receiving end of the glare she's giving him. He scoffs, "You've gotten soft, Regina. Anyways, I was just giving her a compliment!" Regina's eyes somehow harden even more. "If the next words that come out of your mouth aren't an apology, Shane. I swear to god." His confidence falters and he eventually mumbles out an apology. "Walk away, and take your micro-penis with you."

Regina hears a giggle from below her and her eyes soften as she sees you on the floor. She helps you up and adjusts your clothes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's whatever."

She stares at you for a second.

"Take out your phone."

"What? Why-"

She pulls your phone out of your hand.

"I'm putting in my number, idiot."

What?

"For the project? I'm picking you up after school, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Pfft. Totally."

Giving your phone back and rolling her eyes, she turns away and leaves. From the corner of your eye you catch Janis and Damien stomping over. "Dude, why were you talking to Regina? Also our plan is working, Caddy's growing on them." You look at Janis, confused before she continues, "You need to sleep dude. Whatever we have health together let's find Caddy and get to class." Damien puts his arm around you and you all start walking. "What were you talking about with Regina, by the way?" He questions while adjusting his arm around you, "We got paired up for a project. A book report or something." You avoid bringing up the fact that you got harassed.

You love Janis and Damien, truly, but they tend to be a little overprotective. "Hah! What a nightmare!" Janis laughs. You look down at the floor, your face turning slightly red, mumbling, "She isn't that bad." The conversation dies out as you approach the classroom, Cady greeting you at the door. "Hey! So, Aaron invited me to this Halloween party..." Cady's voice fades as you sit down and put your head down onto your desk.

✮✮✮

"Nice room, Blondie." You say, going further into Regina's room. She had been waiting for you outside the school in her convertible, making it impossible for you to get out of spending time with her. Despite her recent tolerability, you couldn't forget how she used to treat you.

Regina smiles, "Thanks, Y/N. It was my mom's but I made her trade it."

"Woah. 'Y/N'? Are you going soft on me, Blondie?"

"Shut up."

You walk around her room and spot a couple of vinyls. Green day? My Chemical Romance? The Yeah Yeah Yeahs? The Strokes! What!

"Blondie, you have taste?"

Regina flips around and stomps towards you, taking the 'Stereophonics' vinyl out of your hands. "Stop going through my shit, Gerard." Back to square one.

She watches you adjust your skirt and pull at your shirt uncomfortably. Walking into her closet, she finds a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt she hadn't worn in years. You were awkwardly standing in the middle of her room before you felt a bunch of clothes hit your face.

The shock passes and you smile at her gratefully while she rolls her eyes and takes a seat at her desk. Should you go to her bathroom? Whatever, she's already seen you shirtless. Her face turns red while she pretends not to notice you changing in front of her. You finish up and take out your laptop, taking a seat on the floor. She swivels her chair to face you, "So, what book were you thinking?" You look up at her, slightly shocked. You didn't think she'd give you a choice.

"Oh. Uh. The Bell Jar?"

"Too bleak."

"It ends nicely though!"

"No! Pick something else."

"Okay, uh, My Year of Rest and Relaxation?" You propose with an eyebrow raised.

She glares at you.

"Are all the books you read just about mentally ill women?"

You sigh, "Pretty much. Oh! What about Matilda!"

She opens her mouth to argue, then pauses for a moment.

"Actually that doesn't sound too bad. Matilda it is."

✮✮✮

An hour passed before Regina looked up from her report and found you curled up on her floor, your laptop discarded to the side. After putting away your laptop, she approaches you and stares down at you. Hands on her hips, she looks around before letting out a breath and picking you up. "Gina?" You mumble out.

She shushes you and places you on her bed. "No. No, it's fine. I have to finish the report." Attempting to sit up, you whine when she pushes you back onto her bed. "We have a week till it's due. Rest." She leaves no room to argue as she tucks you in. "No! Oh wow. Your bed is so comfortable." Your eyes start drifting close and the last thing you see is Regina placing a kiss on your head.

✮✮✮

"I mean I've been dressing up as a mouse since freshman year, why would I change now?" Karen's voice takes you out of your blissful slumber. How long have you been asleep? "You're barely even a mouse, Karen." You could hear Gretchen reply. The sun had started setting, from what you could tell. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and looking around the room. Gretchen and Karen were sitting on the floor while Cady was laying above the sheets next to you. "Hey sleepyhead!" Cady pinches your cheek and tackles you when you try to push her away. She straddles your waist and starts tickling you. "Dude!...Stop!" You say in between giggles.

"What's going on here?" Regina must've been in the bathroom, "Finally up? I was getting ready to call the funeral house, Gerard." She was wearing sweatpants and a tank top. You accidentally glance down at her chest and turn away quickly, blushing, unaware of Regina's knowing smirk. She must've changed when you wear asleep.

Cady finally stops her assault on you. "Ha. Ha" You roll your eyes, moving to get up when Cady grabs your arm and pulls you back down, "Did you wrestle a bear or something?" Looking down to see what she was talking about, you notice a huge hand shaped bruise on your shoulder. You can feel everybody's eyes on you. "Oh, I fell during PE. It's nothing" You shrug her hand away and rub your shoulder, walking towards the walk-in closet, ignoring Regina's eyes burning a hole in your back. Bending down to pick up your clothes, a bright pink book catches your attention.

"Hey. Why didn't you tell Cady about Shane- No!" Regina's eyes widen as rushes towards you and pulls the book out of your hand. It's too late, your page had been the first one you found when you opened the book. Standing up, your voice wavers, "Thank you for being so accommodating, I'll get out of your hair now." You bump your shoulder into her getting out of the closet, hurting yourself more than her.

The silence that followed after you slammed the door on your way out was loud. Regina plops down next to Karen and Gretchen, Cady following after her. Running her hands through her hair, Regina sighs and stares at her bedroom door.

"Fuck."

✮✮✮

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024 #fanfic #wlw #regina george #mean girls #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #regina george x you #mean girls the musical #regina george is a lesbian #wlw fiction #regina george icons

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cosmicdahlias · 7 months ago

Text

For Science

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

After researching giant vampire bats, an old interest of Ford’s has resurfaced. He has a theory about the difference in the taste of human and animal blood. He suggests making you his test subject.

warnings: knives, bloodplay, masturbation, p in v, blood as lube, biting

okayyyy y’all! i have finally returned with another fic about your favorite autistic scientist!!! i got journal 3 (and book of bill) as a belated birthday present to myself and i posted about the giant vampire bats entry on here because the last line was… interesting. It heavily implies that ford has a thing for the taste of human blood. @chillinglyadventurous said it would make for a good fic so i took the idea and ran with it!

You were sitting at your desk writing in your notes. Your boyfriend and research partner sat at his own desk behind you.

You had been working with him since ‘75. You shared his fascination for the weird and paranormal, quickly sparking up a friendship during your college years, but secretly you always longed for more. His intellect and passion for research were incredibly alluring to you.

You weren’t subtle in showing how much you liked him, but he always seemed to be buried in his studies and thus never caught on. As observant as he was, his knowledge on attraction was next to nothing.

After you both graduated you kept in touch, sending letters back and forth often. When he called you up one day it was a welcome surprise. He had finally received a grant to pursue his study of anomalies. You were about to congratulate him when he said he needed an assistant to help him uncover the weirdness of Gravity Falls, a small logging town in Roadkill County, Oregon and hotbed for all things anomaly. You felt your heart do a somersault and immediately took him up on his offer. You could finally have him all to yourself.

You immediately returned to your usual tactics of exceedingly obvious flirting. One day you came in awfully close and took his hand in yours, studying it.

“You know Ford, I’ve always wondered if those six fingers can do things better than my regular five could.”

“Why yes, they’re actually quite good for handling machinery! The extra finger provides more grip.”

After months of effort you realized that your approach was getting you nowhere. It took sharing a bottle of bourbon after a long night of research to give you the liquid courage to confess. You kissed him passionately and he turned pinker than a kitten’s nose, he didn’t hesitate in kissing you back. He led you back to his bedroom and you tried to initiate sex, but he insisted you were too drunk to consent. You settled for falling asleep in his arms and hooked up the next morning. You had a long conversation afterwards about what you both wanted from each other and came out of it as a couple.

You busied yourself in your research when Ford suddenly broke the silence. Coming behind you, turning your chair to face him and putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Yeah?” You asked.

“So, you know those giant vampire bats we studied the other day?”

“I remember, yes.”

“Then you’ll recall how I theorized that they much prefer the taste of human blood over that of animals. I want to… put that theory to the test.”

“Ford, where are you going with this?”

“I want to know if there’s a difference in the taste of animal and human blood. I’ve already sampled animal blood, but I have yet to taste the blood of a human.”

“Okay, so you want to taste blood. Why are you telling me this?”

“There’s more to it. I’ve always had an… interest in blood- specifically the blood of a lover. I’ve never had the opportunity to try it and now I that have you-“

He took a deep breath, tilting your chin up so you were looking him in the eye.

“I want to taste you.”

You blushed deep scarlet and bit your lip. The idea of sexually gratifying him in the name of science was incredibly tantalizing, but your low pain tolerance said otherwise.

“I don’t know. I want to, but I’m not sure I can handle the pai-“

He cut you off with a deep kiss.

“I promise if it hurts too much, I’ll stop immediately. Okay, stardust?”

For a man who claimed he had no experience with romance he was incredibly good at knowing how to win you over with a good kiss and a pet name.

You sighed. “Okay, Ford. I trust you.”

“Good girl.” He said, taking your cheek in his hand.

He turned around and headed for his desk, retrieving a small knife from one of the drawers. He walked back over to you, pulled his chair over and sat directly in front of you, taking your hand and turning it over to show the underside of your arm. He angled the knife at a 45 degree angle just below the pit of your elbow.

“Remember, if it hurts just tell me.”

You nodded and he sank the knife into your soft flesh, beginning to drag it down the length of your forearm. You cried out.

His brow furrowed in concern. “Are you alright? Do I need to stop?”

“N- no, it’s okay. Keep going.”

He continued moving the knife, large pearls of blood formed at the freshly cut wound and dripped onto the floor. Perhaps it had something to do with the love of your life being the one to inflict pain on you or maybe this was just something you were always subconsciously into, but it felt strangely good. Either way you couldn’t help letting a soft moan escape your lips. He stared at you in surprise.

“Is- is this turning you on, love?”

You laughed softly. “Sometimes I amaze even myself.”

You noticed immediately how hard he had gotten, his cock strained in his pants. He reached his hands down and started fumbling with his belt and pulling down his zipper.

“I’m sorry, I have to touch myself. Fuck, this is so arousing.”

He took out his cock and began to stroke himself madly as he pulled your arm closer, leaning his head down and latching his mouth to the cut, lapping at the steady trickle of blood. He moaned against your skin and throbbed wildly in his hand.

“Dear god, stardust, you taste incredible.”

Between his words and watching him become aroused at just the taste of your blood, you felt yourself become drippingly wet.

He stood and slid his hands underneath your thighs, picking you up and setting you on your desk, facing him. He kissed you, the metallic taste of blood hitting your tongue, you found it strangely pleasant. He hiked up your skirt and pulled your panties down and off your legs. He gathered your blood on his fingers and stroked himself before angling his throbbing, stiff cock at your entrance. He slowly slipped inside you and thrusted at a slow pace.

“Jesus christ, this is a thousand times better than regular lube.”

It didn’t matter how many times you’d had sex before, every time felt just as amazing as the first. He slipped a hand between your thighs, stroking your clit.

“Y- you feel so good.” You moaned.

“Stars, I love seeing what I do to you.”

He picked up the knife and pressed it lightly against your other arm.

“May I?”

You nodded fervently and he slowly sliced a second long slit into you. You threw your head back, moaning both in pleasure and pain.

“Oh god, Ford.”

“That’s my girl. Feels so good doesn’t it?”

He dipped his head down and drew his tongue across your arm.

You whimpered at the sensation. “Mmh, I didn’t know something like this could feel so good.”

“And I didn’t know your blood would taste this good.”

He gripped your hip in one hand and keeping the other on your clit, increasing the speed of his thrusts and fingers. He typically opted for soft and slow lovemaking, but seeing you like this left him unable to control himself.

“I need your hands on me.” He panted.

“But what about the-“

“I don’t care.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, blood staining his collar.

“I’m never washing this shirt again, your blood is too precious to waste.”

You felt yourself growing close, he was too. He pumped himself furiously into you as he rapidly circled your clit. You rolled your hips against his fingers, the motion stroking his cock.

“That’s it stardust, almost there.”

You moaned loudly and came undone on him, your pussy spasming around his cock. The sensation made him unable to resist biting your shoulder and sinking his teeth into you. The taste of your blood immediately caused him bury himself into you down to the hilt, shooting rope after rope of hot cum deep inside you.

He began to slow his pace, breathing raggedly. He pressed his forehead to yours.

“God, stardust, I’ll never tire of you.”

He withdrew his cock from inside you and zipped himself up. He pulled out the first aid kit he kept in one of his desk drawers in case experiments went awry. He doused a cotton pad in disinfectant and dabbed it on your wounds. You flinched at the stinging sensation of the solution.

“I know, I’m sorry, but I can’t let them get infected.”

He pulled a roll of gauze from the kit and wrapped your arms, securing them with medical tape. He turned his attention to the bite, cutting a large square of gauze and taping it down. He kissed your cheek.

“There you go, stardust.”

He picked you up again and sat down in his chair, sitting you on his lap. He turned to his desk and opened his journal, he had just started his third one. He flipped to his entry about giant vampire bats and began writing.

“Human blood tastes better than anything.”

He paused, crossing out “better than anything” and replacing it with “I can only ASSUME human blood tastes better.”

“Ford, what was the point of all of that if you’re not going to be honest?” You giggled.

He kissed the top of your head. “If I’m going to publish my findings, there are some things that I think would be best kept between just the two of us.”

You turned to him, putting a hand to his cheek and kissing him.

“If you say so, sixer.”

#ford pines #ford pines x reader #ford pines smut #ford pines fanfic #gravity falls #my fics

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