#I’m somewhat joking but not enough I’m afraid

[lady-raziel]

I think my parents gave me a cursed object for Christmas

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: omegaverse, size difference, reader's second gender is omega, so there are mentions of pregnancy, somewhat subjugating omega politics, old-fashioned high-class politics of sorts

♡ prequel to this

♡ GN reader

His eyes are garnet and slim—you can’t make up your mind if they’re judgemental or just assessing. Either would be allowed, of course. The point of the date is for him to decide if you’re sufficient or not.

And yet, you’re the one taking him in. His main is ashen blonde, boyishly spikey and wild—not fine-kempt and slick like you’d pictured. He didn’t have any grey hair either, or stubble, or wrinkles. Though he’s still much bigger and burlier than they are, he can’t be any older than the eldest males back at the institution.

He’s obviously an Alpha, and still, it’s so odd.

“You’re young,” you end up saying.

His nose scrunches. “No younger than you.”

It must have sounded accusatory, even when you only meant to point it out for yourself. You probably ought to have said it silently, inside yourself, and not out loud like you did.

And so you apologize, “I’m sorry, I was—I was just expecting someone older…” You try smiling, but the thought of him actually having been older makes your throat tight, and you swallow thickly instead. “Much older.”

He sighs, looks off to the side instead of at you. His brows tighten—you probably want someone who’s already got a house and a car and a boat on a lake, not to mention a good salary and not the intern pay he’ll be living off of for at least the next year or so. His foot taps beneath the table. You feel it in the floorboards. “You disappointed or somethin’?” he grumbles through grit teeth and a slim frown.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, blruting, “No!” You even jump out of your chair, both hands slamming flat on the table, making the napkin-wrapped cutlery clatter within their confines. 

Quickly, but too late, you realize you’re causing a scene. Cheeks burning, you look around before settling down again—you’re not making a very good first impression so far.

You take a breath, confessing, “I mean, I’m happy,” You place your hands in your lap and then start fiddling with them. “This way, we can be together for a long time…” Your voice is breathy as you let out a somewhat apologetic sigh, smiling some. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t dare look up to gauge his expression.

You end up laughing nervously in the silence, feeling the joke arise before you're able to dispel it. “I was afraid I was gonna have to be your nurse soon.”

His foot stops tapping. Then he scoffs.

You perk up again, fumbling over your newest mistake, already apologizing a second time so far, “I’m sorry, that was rude. You’re just not what I was expecting—I’m a little caught off guard, is all.”

He huffs, then grins. “That’s okay. You don’t gotta apologize.”

You both sit in silence after that. You pick your nails more. All the questions you’ve prepared are useless given his age—he doesn’t have an answer to how many kids he wants from you. Probably. It somehow feels strange asking him when he isn’t in his thirties or forties or early fifties.

You look at him in askance. It really is odd.

“You can ask—if you’re curious,” he sanctions.

You really want to, but you’ve made enough mistakes already. Your teachers wouldn’t be proud if they witnessed you acting so childish and not as the proper little lady they’ve trained you to be. 

“No, I shouldn’t.” You shake your head and look down at your lap.

“Come on, you don’t gotta worry about being rude with me,” he insists.

You bite your lip, feeling fidgety in your chair, peering up at him. “You sure?”

“Hit me.” 

The question leaps from your tongue before you have the mind to regret it. “How can you afford this?”

He leans back in his chair. “I can’t—not yet. My folks are paying.”

You hum—that makes more sense. “They must be nice,” you say.

“They try,” he agrees.

There’s a silence again. You don’t have anything appropriate to ask. You were more prepared to talk when spoken to, to answer his questions about your health and hobbies, all silly things that make you cute and likable, but given he’s your age, none of it seems any interesting. It seems he doesn’t have much to ask, either.

“I was unsure about this,” he declares after a while. “To be honest with you, it was all my mom’s idea. I didn’t ask for it…” With a pause, he picks up the menu that had been lying undisturbed in wait for his decision. “But, she tends to be right about most things. So, I think I’ll take the offer this once.”

He lets you decide without ordering for you. Neither of you decide to drink, even though you’re both old enough. The conversation is awkward, but you giggle a couple of times and he smirks in turn. You hadn’t anticipated it—this feeling. You’d anticipated the nerves and the tension—but not this other thing, this sweet fluttering feeling blossoming in your belly, flirty and fizzy. Is this what they call butterflies?

He’s left asking himself the same question.

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[bodybaggage]

Ghostly Heir or Batty Custody?

DP X DC

———

The Justice League Watchtower was an advanced piece of technology, housing the world’s greatest heroes. But even in a place dedicated to protecting the Earth, some things were simply unavoidable—like gossip.

It had started innocently enough, as these things often do. Superman, having just returned from Gotham, was discussing the latest developments in the Batcave with Wonder Woman over a cup of coffee. The conversation was meant to be private, but when you have people like the Flash who can be in and out of a room before anyone notices, privacy is a relative term.

“So, Batman has another kid?” Superman had said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Wonder Woman raised an eyebrow. “Another one? Are we running a daycare now?”

Superman shrugged. “Not sure. But he’s different from the others. White hair, glows a little. Bruce is being… secretive.”

“Bruce is always secretive,” Wonder Woman pointed out.

“Yeah, but this one seems—” Superman’s words were cut off as the Flash zoomed by, pretending to be busy with something else. The two superhumans exchanged a glance but said nothing more, knowing that once the speedster got wind of something, the whole League would know within the hour.

And they did.

Back in Gotham, Bruce Wayne—better known as Batman—was oblivious to the brewing storm. He sat in the Batcave, going over the latest reports on Gotham’s criminal activity with his usual intensity. Beside him, a ghostly figure floated lazily, occasionally glancing at the screens with mild interest.

Danny Fenton—known to most as Danny Phantom—had been in Gotham for a few weeks now, lying low while he figured out how to deal with some supernatural issues back in Amity Park. Clockwork had suggested Gotham as a good place to lay low, citing the city’s reputation for attracting all sorts of weirdos. Besides, Clockwork had argued, Batman wouldn’t care as long as Danny didn’t cause trouble.

And for the most part, Danny hadn’t. He’d stayed out of Gotham’s wayward criminal elements, kept his ghostly powers under wraps, and only occasionally wandered the streets at night to stretch his legs (or float, as it were).

Of course, he hadn’t counted on the Bat Family.

Damian had challenged him to a duel within minutes of their first meeting, insisting that he prove himself worthy of staying in the Batcave. Danny had countered by turning intangible and letting Damian tire himself out, which only seemed to frustrate the young Robin more.

Tim had interrogated him about the nature of ectoplasm and ghost powers, scribbling notes furiously as Danny tried his best to explain without giving too much away.

Jason had simply grunted, muttering something about “another brat” before disappearing on his motorcycle, while Dick had been the only one to offer a somewhat normal welcome.

“You’re like, what, the seventh kid Bruce has taken in?” Dick had said, clapping Danny on the back. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

“I’m not staying here permanently,” Danny had replied, but Dick had just laughed, as if Danny’s words were the punchline to a joke only he understood.

Things had been relatively quiet since then—until now.

It started as a low hum, a barely noticeable vibration in the air. Alfred, the ever-watchful butler, was the first to notice something amiss.

“Master Wayne,” Alfred said calmly, setting down the tray of tea he’d just brought in. “We appear to have… company.”

Bruce looked up from the Batcomputer, his eyes narrowing as the hum grew louder, evolving into a low rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Batcave. Danny, who had been floating upside down, lazily spinning in midair, suddenly snapped to attention.

“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Danny muttered, his expression turning from bored to annoyed in seconds.

“I’m afraid I cannot,” Alfred replied, his tone as even as ever, despite the growing disturbance.

The rumble turned into a roar, and suddenly, with a burst of green light, a swirling portal opened up in the middle of the Batcave. The vortex crackled with energy, and from it stepped a towering figure clad in ghostly armor, a crown of ectoplasmic fire atop his head.

Pariah Dark, the Ghost King, had arrived.

“BATMAN!” Pariah’s voice boomed through the cave, rattling the glass cases that held the old Robin suits. “I, Pariah Dark, King of the Infinite Realms, have come to challenge you for the custody of my heir!”

There was a moment of silence as the words hung in the air. Danny facepalmed, groaning audibly. “This is not happening.”

Bruce, for his part, remained as stoic as ever, though his eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. “Your heir?”

“Yes, my heir!” Pariah bellowed, his eyes glowing with ectoplasmic energy. “The boy you have taken into your care! I will not allow this—this mortal to usurp my claim!”

Bruce’s gaze flicked to Danny, who looked thoroughly unamused. “Is there something you forgot to mention?”

“Oh, come on!” Danny threw his hands up in frustration. “This isn’t what it looks like! I’m not his heir, and I’m definitely not up for custody!”

Pariah seemed undeterred by Danny’s protests. “You defeated me in battle, boy. By the laws of the Infinite Realms, that makes you my heir! And now this Bat-creature seeks to claim you as his own! I will not stand for it!”

Bruce’s expression remained impassive. “I’m not trying to claim him.”

“See?” Danny gestured to Bruce. “Totally not trying to claim me. So you can just go back to the Ghost Zone, Pariah. No custody battle needed.”

Pariah’s eyes narrowed, his fiery crown flaring. “The only way to resolve this is through combat! Batman, I challenge you to a duel for the boy!”

Bruce glanced at the portal, calculating the odds. “And if I refuse?”

“Then I will take the boy by force!” Pariah declared, raising his massive sword, which seemed to materialize out of thin air, crackling with ectoplasmic energy.

Danny floated down between the two, trying to keep the peace. “Guys, let’s just calm down. No need for a duel. I’m fine. No one’s taking anyone by force.”

Pariah looked down at Danny, his expression a mix of paternal concern and royal indignation. “Do not worry, my heir. I will defend your honor.”

Danny groaned again. “I don’t need my honor defended. I need you to stop making this weird.”

Before Danny could protest further, Bruce stepped forward, his voice as calm as ever. “Very well. A duel, then.”

“Seriously?” Danny looked at Bruce, incredulous. “You’re just going to agree to this?”

“If it ends the situation quickly, yes,” Bruce replied, his tone as dry as ever. “This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with an overprotective guardian.”

Pariah raised his sword, clearly satisfied with the outcome. “Prepare yourself, mortal! I will not hold back!”

“Hold on, hold on!” Danny zipped between them again, clearly exasperated. “We don’t need to do this! Pariah, go back to the Ghost Zone. Batman, you don’t have to fight him.”

Pariah looked genuinely perplexed. “But… the honor of the Infinite Realms demands it.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Danny insisted. “The Infinite Realms don’t care about some weird custody battle! Besides, I’m not a kid, and I’m not staying here permanently! I’m just crashing for a bit!”

Pariah frowned, lowering his sword slightly. “You… are not staying?”

“No!” Danny said, exasperated. “I’m not staying! I’m not your heir! I’m just Danny, okay?”

The Ghost King looked around, as if trying to process this information. “But… you are under his care. It was reported by reliable sources.”

“Reliable sources?” Danny echoed. “Who told you that?”

Pariah seemed to hesitate for the first time. “A rather talkative sorcerer in a trench coat. He mentioned it while muttering about ‘bloody bats’ and ‘undead nuisances.’”

Danny blinked, realization dawning. “Constantine. Of course.”

Bruce’s expression remained unchanged, though there was a faint glimmer of irritation in his eyes. “This… Constantine has been spreading rumors?”

Danny sighed heavily, feeling more tired by the minute. “Look, can we just forget this whole thing happened? Pariah, you go back to ruling the Ghost Zone. I’ll handle Constantine. And Batman, you can go back to doing… whatever it is you do.”

Pariah Dark seemed to mull this over for a moment before finally lowering his sword completely. “Very well. But know this, boy—if ever you require my assistance, you have but to call.”

“Sure, sure,” Danny muttered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

With one last, dramatic sweep of his cape, Pariah Dark stepped back into the swirling green portal, which closed behind him with a final, ominous crackle.

For a moment, the Batcave was silent. Then Danny turned to Bruce, looking both sheepish and annoyed. “So… I guess I should have warned you about that.”

Bruce simply nodded, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Next time, try to keep your interdimensional family disputes to a minimum.”

“I’ll do my best,” Danny promised, floating back toward the Batcomputer. “But with my luck, that’s not gonna be easy.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Bruce replied dryly, already turning back to his work. “And tell Constantine to keep his mouth shut.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Danny muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he floated back to his usual spot, thinking about the supernatural messes that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

As the Batcave returned to its usual state of brooding silence, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Gotham wasn’t the best place to lay low after all. But with the alternative being another encounter with Pariah, he figured the Batcave wasn’t so bad—at least, not until the next interdimensional incident.

[mochacoda]

night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5.8K

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you‘ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food. 

But despite Jeonghan’s chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events. 

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days. 

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. 

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends. 

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner. 

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to. 

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. 

“치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand. 

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 옷을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance. 

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie. 

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down. 

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course. 

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now. 

“I’m not letting go, 하니 [Hannie].” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face. 

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture. 

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours. 

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme. 

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings? 

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke? 

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive? 

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together. 

You expect him to crush your heart. 

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful. 

You can’t even bring yourself to blink, afraid that it might disappear before you can commit it to memory.

Technically, he’s looked like this before—you’ve seen it a handful of times on movie nights when you leaned against his shoulder, sleepily rambling about the bad decisions the main character had made. You’ve always figured that it was just the face he made when he was running on eight percent battery, tired and only half-registering the words coming out of your mouth. 

But now, seeing this version of Jeonghan out of its usual context, your heart stops. 

Your grip slackens.

In an instant, Jeonghan takes advantage of your daze. He snatches the ramen, links his arm through yours, and drags you to the counter. Your feet stumble, but his hold on you is firm, keeping you stable throughout the entire sudden exchange. He sets a bill on the counter, and then you’re being ushered out of the convenience store. 

The freezing cold bites at your cheeks as you stand in a haze of confusion by the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s car, unable to do anything but just watch as he starts the engine and unlocks the door. He stares at you through the window, waiting. 

If you could move a muscle on your face, you’d furrow your brows, wondering what he’s waiting for. But you’re still frozen, and before you can really think about it, Jeonghan gets tired of waiting. 

He gets out of the car and walks over to you, squeezing your shoulders as he shifts you a little to the left. Withdrawing one of his hands from your shoulders, he opens the door, and then maneuvers you inside, using the same hand to cover the top frame of the door. You bump your forehead slightly against it, and he buckles you into the passenger seat—all without a word.

When you blink owlishly at him, he just ruffles your hair and shuts the door carefully, then walks over to the driver’s side. 

Dazed, you literally have nothing to say. 

When Jeonghan gets back into the car, he looks over at you with an unreadable gaze, then reaches his hand over the console to you, this time holding an object out. Your eyes flicker downward, then shoot up at him immediately.

The ramen?

You squint at his outstretched hand, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. 

Jeonghan never yields. 

“Take it,” he says simply, airily, as if his giving up was obvious all along.

You hesitate, finger lightly tracing the top of the cup. 

“Come on,” he insists, his eyes still intensely trained on yours. “I… it was always yours.”

Your fingers close over the cup, brushing his hand. He exhales softly, the corners of his lips twitching.

Averting your eyes from him and his strange actions, you drop the ramen in your lap, then settle for staring outside the window at the night sky, finding it unbearable to look at him. Drumming your fingers against the border of the window, you get lost in thought. You’re not sure you can handle it if Jeonghan tries to flirt with you again. Every time he does it, it just hammers in the crushing idea that you’re nothing but a friend to him. That you’re just someone to practice on while he waits for the goddess of his dreams to appear, or something.

And then a strange thought occurs to you. A silly thought, really. When Jeonghan said that the ramen was always yours, he didn’t use the “ih” sound that the word “it” has. No, he used the pronoun “I” first, before correcting himself. A faint, pitiful smile makes its way to your lips as your heart pangs. 

Just what would you give to hear him say “I was always yours” someday?

Oh, maybe everything. 

────୨ৎ────

The gentle hum of the car engine fills the silence from the lack of conversation between the two of you. The moon and the stars are beautiful tonight, and you’re content with staring at them instead of the man driving the car. You prop your head up with your elbow against the window, closing your eyes with every lull of the engine. If Jeonghan ever looked over at you at a red light, you wouldn’t know, preoccupied with pretending to be asleep. 

When you feel the car come to a complete stop, you’re still feigning sleep, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows slightly. Surely, 40 minutes haven’t already passed? It seems way too soon. Had you actually dozed off at some point between staring out the window and faking sleep?

You peek one eye open, only to startle at Jeonghan’s gaze trained on you already, immediately opening the other. He seems completely at ease, with one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. He stretches his fingers, accentuating the veins on his forearms, and you have to avert your eyes for a moment. 

“잘 잤니? [Sleep well?]” he asks casually. 

You look back at him, and see a strand of his dark hair fall into his eyes. Fingers twitching, you fight the urge to brush it behind his ear. 

You answer him with a nod and flush, wondering if he could tell you were acting the entire time. Hands itching for something to do, you fiddle with your seatbelt.

“야, 나 좀 보고 말해봐, 음? [Hey, can’t you look at me and talk, hmm?]”

You glance at Jeonghan out of the corner of your eye, then shy away again. He looks too good right now, too much like a doting boyfriend. You pick at a loose thread from the bottom hem of your shirt.

“자꾸 나를 안 보니까 섭섭하네. [You keep not looking at me, I’m sad.]”

You faintly laugh. In all your years of knowing the man, you’ve yet to see Yoon Jeonghan truly sad. He’s always, always composed. He never says anything without thinking about it first, and he doesn’t have to lift a single finger that he doesn’t want to, because he knows that people will jump just to fall at his feet. It’s funny that Jeonghan now just assumes that with a few pretty words, he’ll get his way. 

But your resentment is growing. It started with the ramen, and built up with how he won at the end of the fight. And it peaked when he gloated under the guise of kindly yielding the cup to you, leaving you stranded in your confusion, leaving you to sort out your racing mind and heart. What’s worse is, he has a history of doing this to you. But you never learn. Because he also has a history of giving the best, warmest, longest hugs. And he tells you all the time that he wants to be with you forever, that even when you’re 80 and wrinkly, he’ll come over every day to sing duets using your karaoke machine. And he has a bad habit of staring into your eyes with so much adoration, that you mistake it for real love. 

He has a history of making you think that his flirting might actually mean something real to him. But he never confesses any feelings, because they don’t exist, and you feel the pain of being used as romantic practice all the same. 

You’ve tried to convince yourself to just accept his affections as platonic love, but it has become increasingly more difficult to ignore it. How can you, when you get a rush of serotonin from seeing how bright his smile is when he whispers an inside joke to you in the middle of your fatally boring math discussion? How can you, when Jeonghan insists on picking you up from work even though it’s a waste of time and gas for him to make the far drive here and back? Your heart has grown to accommodate, and even expect, the constant fluttering it feels in his presence. 

So, to be exact, it’s not that you feel resentment toward him—it’s resentment for your lack of a backbone when it comes to all things Yoon Jeonghan. It happens all the time; you get mad at him, and the consequences last for all of five seconds before your will caves. 

“근대, 안 섭섭하잖아, [You’re not sad, though],” you softly say, eyes now tracing the glow of the crescent moon. 

Jeonghan shifts in his seat, questioning your words. ”What? Why would you say that?”

“아니야, [No,] forget it.” You sigh, eyes falling to your hands again. Picking at a hangnail, you inhale deeply. 

“Why wouldn’t I be sad? I love talking to you.” He removes his hands from the wheel and gear shift, then reaches out for yours.

You flinch, and he freezes. 

“Hey, did I… do something wrong?” His voice shakes, suddenly sounding strained. It’s the complete opposite of how he was just three seconds ago.

You swallow thickly. No, he didn’t do anything wrong. “아니, [No,] it’s my fault.”

He frowns. “What did I do? Please, tell me. I’m sorry, whatever it is, I can fix it, I promise.” He looks at you so earnestly, your heart sinks. 

“그건 불가능해, 정한아. [That’s not possible, Jeonghan.]” The words come out slowly and breathily, as if it’s taken you half of your life force to say them. You stare out the window again, this time at the stars, and add, “We should really get back, now. Why’d you stop here, anyway?”

“I figured you didn’t eat yet,” he says carefully. “I thought you’d want to get Thai. When you’re hangry, you yell at the TV more, and I get complaints from my neighbors.”

You blink, turning your attention down to the stores lining the street rather than the night sky. Jeonghan really had driven to your favorite Thai restaurant. “Oh. I didn’t know I did that, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replies softly. “I never liked my neighbors anyway.”

Your eyes close, remembering when one of your classmates, who happened to be his neighbor, confessed to him. He had vented to you about friends needing to understand when not to cross lines. The memory makes you smile weakly again, acknowledging how strong you’ve been for managing not to confess so far. 

Jeonghan continues, “But hey, your neighbors don’t like me, either. Remember when they banged on your door because we were singing too loud?”

You laugh this time, and it’s fleeting but it’s not forced. “언제 쯤 얘기야? [How long ago was that?] That was like two years ago.”

Jeonghan smiles. “You were wearing those teddy bear pajama pants, and I had my Cookie Monster pants on. They were like 70, and told us to stop being childish and grow up.”

“Maybe they had a point,” you say with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that you paid attention to those things,” you add offhandedly. 

“Pay attention to what?”

“You know, just… the stuff I wear, the random shit I do,” you say, picking at your split ends. 

Jeonghan’s wide eyes narrow, and you feel too hot under his intense gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, voice deep and tinged with something you can’t quite put a finger on. The question feels strangely charged. With what, you don’t know. 

You gnaw on your lip. 

“Answer me. Why shouldn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, feeling put on the spot. “I’m just your friend. Shouldn’t you be spending your energy remembering weird stuff about a girlfriend? Like a serious romantic partner, or something?”

Jeonghan groans, running a hand through his hair, before it comes down on the console with a light thud. Your eyes widen at his unexpected physical display of emotion, taking in his clenched fists and heaving chest. 

“하니? [Hannie?]” you say softly, concerned. He doesn’t normally resort to physical exertions when frustrated, probably because he doesn’t get frustrated very often at all.

Your hand reaches out to his right bicep, where you rub the muscle soothingly. 

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he says with a marginally more relieved, deep sigh. 

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he repeats. “Please, don’t call me 정한 [Jeonghan]. Only 하니 [Hannie].”

“Okay?” you say tentatively, unsure where this is going.

“You know I love you, right?” he says suddenly, staring at his hands. 

You blink rapidly. “Of course. I love you, too.” He’s your best friend, but you’re probably not his best friend. 

Jeonghan jolts, looking at you directly in the eyes now. “You know I love you more, right?”

He looks a bit crazed like this, his frantic chocolate brown eyes searching deeply for something in your face. At a loss for words, you gape your mouth at him like a fish out of water. 

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” you manage to say. “I bet I love you a lot more.” 

The statement is accompanied by a rather self-deprecating laugh from you, the kind that digs deep into your heart even as you try your best to seem casual. 

“No, no,” he says, reaching with his left hand to grasp the hand you’ve been patting his right bicep with. This time, you don’t pull away. “You don’t get it. I love you.” 

What?

Your heartbeat begins to beat so loudly that the sound of it pumping overwhelms your thoughts. Your chest tightens, and you’re half-sure that you just hallucinated it.

“뭐라고? [What did you just say?]”

“사랑한다고, [That I love you,]” he chokes out, his voice thick with the one emotion you’ve been dreaming of him reciprocating. 

You gasp.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Oh.

Crestfallen, your heart drops. You pull your hand away from him. 

This must be his new way to get you to relieve your “anger.” He doesn’t actually love you romantically, he just wants you to go back to acting like you normally do. He’ll never feel the same way that you do, in the crushing way that drives you insane every day, in the way that—

“설마, 나를 지금 무시하는 거야? [No way, are you ignoring me right now?]” Jeonghan’s wounded gaze strikes you like lightning. “아니면, 나를 못 믿는거야? [Or, are you not believing me?]”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. 

Is this real? A dream, maybe? The real Jeonghan would never say this. He would never, ever entertain the idea that you could ever be more than—

“내가 사랑한다고 했는데, 왜 아무 말이 없어? [I just said I love you, why won’t you say anything?]” Jeonghan’s voice quakes, and you’re taken aback by his pained, strained eyebrows and glittering eyes. 

Jeonghan’s eyes well with tears. He swallows thickly, “나… 아니야? [Am I… not it for you?]”

Your breath catches. He’s crying. Yoon Jeonghan—Yoon Jeonghan is crying? You’ve never even seen him sad, let alone crying. He’s always been untouchable, effortless in the way he teases and flirts with you, so sure of himself. So nonchalant and casual with his affection, that you’d always thought he never truly meant anything by it. But here he is, raw and vulnerable in front of you, holding his heart out with both hands—eyes rimmed red, voice breaking, mouth trembling. All because of you? 

He really means it, huh? The realization slams into you so hard you feel like you can’t breathe, let alone speak, your chest constricting like you’re having a heart attack. All those lingering touches, all these years. The way he’s always made you the center of his jokes, how he has the softest shifts in his voice when someone mentions your name—it wasn’t all a game to him? It was never just practice for someone else, for someone better? 

It was love?

God, you had been so overwhelmed with self doubt and insecurity that you’d convinced yourself that you had no chance, all while he was giving you clues through his proud affections, every day.

The man in question looks at you like you’ve just shattered his fragile heart, tears fully trailing down to his chin, now.

Feeling like your entire body has been engulfed in flames, you reach a trembling hand out past the gear shift. It trembles despite yourself as your arm extends to caress his cheek, where you carefully rub his tears away. 

Jeonghan shudders when your hand touches him, and he shuts his eyes. More tears fall.

“하니, [Hannie],” you breathe shallowly, still feeling an immense pressure in your chest. “Look at me.” When he doesn’t open his eyes, you swallow roughly. “하니, [Hannie], please?”

Stubbornly, Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed, and you shakily sigh. You want to tell him—no, you need to tell him that you love him with every fiber of your being, but you need to see his eyes to register whether he understands you. He needs to open those beautiful, brown eyes of his. 

You’ve never told him that you love him in Korean before. Something about it always felt too intimate, while “I love you” in English felt less charged. But you think he needs to hear it now.

Withdrawing your hand from his cheek, you unbuckle your seatbelt at last. Finally freed, you shift your legs until you're sitting on the back of your calves, facing the stunning, devastated man in the driver’s seat.

“하니야, [Hannie],” you say softly, his name a prayer on your lips, your face coming near his. 

You raise your hands up to tenderly brush the tears away from the soft tissue right under his eyes. Trembling, your right hand brushes a strand of hair out of his face, then rests on the back of his neck. 

Heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you hesitantly move closer, and closer, until your lips gently meet his forehead in a kiss so light, you foolishly wonder if he even feels your lips there at all.

“하니야, 사랑해. [Hannie, I love you.]” 

Jeonghan stills immediately. You can feel his hot breath catch against your neck, and you feel a shiver come down your spine. 

“I don’t want anyone else. Just you,” you say choppily, each word spilling out before you can think about what you really just said. 

When you retreat an inch or two back from his forehead, you can see that he has finally opened his eyes. 

“You mean it?” he asks, voice high-pitched in disbelief. 

Not trusting your voice, you nod three times. 

“Say it again,” he begs, his red-rimmed eyes downturned.

“사랑해, 하니야 [I love you, Hannie]. I tried so hard not to. 내 마음을 접고 다른 사람을 바라보고 싶었어. 싶었는데… [I wanted to let go of my feelings for you and search for someone else. That’s what I wanted, but…]”

Jeonghan inhales sharply. Distressed, his Adam's apple bobs up and down. Your heart aches at the sight of him so exposed, and your thumb moves to rub soothing circles by his collarbone. 

You assure him, “근데 그게 진짜 그냥 안 된거야. 도저히 너를 포기할 수 없었어. [But that really just didn’t work. There was no way I could bring myself to give you up.]”

Your fingers close to his neck, you feel Jeonghan’s pulse racing. Trying to help his heart settle down, you press another light kiss to his forehead, cradling the back of his head with your other hand. His breath shudders against your cheek. 

“마음이 하니한테 만 끌리니까, 뭐… 포기하려고 노력을 했는데 소용이 없었어. [My heart was only drawn to you, Hannie, and well… no matter how hard I tried to give you up, it was no use.]”

Jeonghan blinks up at you with watery eyes. 

“You’re it for me, 하니 [Hannie]. Okay?” Sheepish, you feel a bit embarrassed at having been so honest. 

Now that you’ve bared your heart and soul to him, you take the opportunity to really look at him, since you were distracted with telling your part for the past few minutes—and, oh. 

His pupils are so dilated, his eyes look almost black. His breathing has slowed down compared to earlier, but his fists are still clenched, like he’s holding something back. 

In a low voice, so deep that it wouldn’t have been audible if you weren’t practically pressed against him, Jeonghan finally responds to your confession. 

“You love me,” he says hesitantly, like he’s asking to confirm. 

The corners up your lip turn up, and he grins. “You love me,” he says again, only louder this time, and then he’s leaning forward into you. 

His hands find you first, clinging to your neck and waist sweetly yet firmly, like he’s afraid to let you go now that he finally has you.

When his lips meet yours, you melt into the kiss. His lips are warm, softer than you expected, moving against yours with an aching tenderness. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you in like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs down your spine when his thumb brushes along the curve of your jaw. The touch is so careful, so reverent, like he’s memorizing every part of you.

Then, he pulls back just an inch—just enough for his breath to fan across your lips, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes, dark and unreadable, search yours as if needing confirmation.

"You love me? 진심이지? [You’re serious, right?]" His voice is barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightens at the sheer vulnerability in his expression. You cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against his damp skin, and nod. "사랑해, 하니야. [I love you, Hannie.] 진짜, [Really,] I always have."

A sound escapes him—somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of relief—before he leans in again, kissing you with more urgency this time. His hands tangle into your hair, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as he presses you impossibly closer. The kiss is deeper now, more certain. He parts his lips slightly, and you do the same, the heat between you growing into something undeniable.

Your hands wander—one slipping into his hair, the other trailing down his shoulder. He shudders under your touch, and you feel the tension slowly unraveling from his body, like he’s finally letting himself believe this is real.

When you finally part for air, he lets out a shaky laugh, thumb ghosting over your kiss-swollen lips. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this," he murmurs, his voice husky.

Your heart swells at the confession. "Actually, I think I do," you whisper back before pulling him into another kiss, this time knowing—without a doubt—that neither of you are going anywhere.

────୨ৎ──── 

“하니, [Hannie,]” you say, leaning against him on the sofa in your apartment, drawing random shapes on his chest with your right hand. “We should go on a drive again.”

“Mm, a drive?” he says, distracted by his fascination with observing your left hand, holding it like a precious gem. 

“Yeah, 바람 좀 새자 [let’s get some air]. A night drive.”

His hands stall, lips curling up at the corners. “Oh, a night drive, huh? 역사적인 거네. [How historic.]”

You bury your face in his chest. “Mmh,” you say to his shirt.

“You know, you said 사랑해 [I love you] to me for the first time on a night drive,” he says casually. His hands let go of your left hand, then make their way to your head, patting your hair gently. 

You prop your chin up on his stomach, expecting to see Jeonghan’s pure smile. But instead, he’s smirking at you. 

“You wanted me so bad.” He sighs dramatically. “What else could I do, but accept your love?”

You can’t help but smile. “I think you’re misremembering things a little, 하니 [Hannie].”

“Oh, am I?” he gasps, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. 

If he were anyone else, he’d look stupid feigning ignorance. Fortunately for you, though, he isn’t anyone else—he’s the love of your life, and he makes everything look good. 

“Ugh,” you say, eyes shining. “You look dumb, stop it.”

“You love it,” he says cheekily, arms falling from your head to wrap around you in a big hug. 

“Mmfph,” you say in response, relishing in the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Not denying it, I see,” he says. “Overwhelmed by your love for me, you dove at my poor, innocent self in the car, kissing me all over!”

“Pfft,” you laugh. “No, that was you!”

“No,” Jeonghan pouts.

“I happen to remember a little crybaby confessing first,” you say with an upside down smile, hugging him tighter.

Jeonghan’s eyes look up at the ceiling. “무슨 말인지… [I don’t know what you’re talking about…]”

“야아! [Hey!]” your hand slaps his chest lightly. “나 좀 봐봐, 음? [Look at me, hmm?]”

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says, pouting. 

“사랑해도 안 볼 거야? 섭섭하네… [Even if I love you, you won’t look at me? I’m sad…]” you huff, burying your face into the sofa pillows instead of Jeonghan’s chest. “하니가 안 사랑해주면 난 갈 거야. [If you don’t love me I’m gonna leave.]”

Jeonghan laughs, “가긴 어딜가, 여기 너네 집이잖아. [Leave? What do you mean, leave? This is your house.]” 

Jeonghan hugs you tighter, then suddenly sits up, taking you with him. 

“사랑해, [I love you,]” he says earnestly, staring deeply into your eyes, as if he wants to dive into the depths of your iris. Your name leaves his lips fervently, like a prayer.

“사랑해, 하니야, [I love you, Hannie,]” you say back, and you mean it. 

Because Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. And he’s yours.

Masterlist

Author's Note: here’s a big literary hug <3

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97 - @viciousdarlings - @11zzyy

[wonysugar]

don’t modify || jang wonyoung

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. everyone adores you (at least i do) — matt maltese

synopsis : everyone knew jang wonyoung had standards, but you were afraid you didn’t meet them like she initially expected you to.

pairing : stuco!wonyoung x gf!femreader

genre : smut, it’s kinda sweet i think

tags : wlw, hurt/comfort(?), fem!reader starts doubting herself, self-esteem issues, yn overthinks everythingg, YN YOU’RE GIRLFRIEND ENOUGH, <//3, couplez are very present haiii, i care them so much, jiwon is stewpid (affectionate), and rei lives for it, LESBIANS, worried gf wony, she loves yn guys, GUYS, now onto the sex, semi-public sex, so risky sex, ooouh scandalous, fingerfucking, making out, LOTS of it, kinda body worship, clit play

warnings : this fic contains self-esteem issues and lack of confidence, be warned :]

word count : 4,8k

a/n : heyyy… DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THATTT I’VE BEEN BUSY💔💔i’m trying to work on as many fics as i possibly can when i have free time, this is one of them<//3 i hope you like it, i personally don’t know to feel about it butfkdmfm yeah

i also kinda didn’t proofread this; it’s almost 2 am as i’m typing this out and i’m EXHAUSTED,,, if you see mistakes of any kind just please ignore,, for my sake

man, student council really was no joke.

sitting at the same table as your girlfriend, wonyoung, and her peers, you could feel the undeniable tension in the air. 

this was originally gonna be a double date, but it very quickly turned into a last-minute student council meeting, for some unknown reason. you weren’t part of said council, therefore had no clue what the hell they were on about this entire time. all this talk about budget, organized events, it all made you dizzy. the only thing that was keeping you somewhat calm was wonyoung’s warm presence and the slow jazz music that was quietly playing from the vintage jukebox, the one sitting in a corner of the place. 

you accompanied your girlfriend thinking this was going to be a cute opportunity to meet the two other girls! yknow, knowing that they seemed to be very close friends of your girlfriend’s, you figured it would’ve been nice to get to know them but it now just mostly feels like you infiltrated a top secret reunion that no one else could know about. 

and the funny thing? you were already somewhat nervous to meet other student council members in the first place, and this wasn’t helping. now, it’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but the first time that you met your significant other… yeah, you were mostly intimidated by her beauty and maturity, but also by her status in the school. it’s almost like you felt bad about crushing on somebody as influential on campus, let alone eventually dating her. so, i guess you could say meeting anybody equally as important as her fellow stuco members was something that made you rather anxious; what if they thought of you as clumsy? dumb? or even worse, not good enough for their president, their best friend?

quickly interrupting your train of incredibly messy thought, the blonde girl, whose name you don’t quite remember, spoke up. 

“nevermind any of that! we came here, on a week-end, with the intention to relax, to have fun and to finally take a breather from everything stressful that’s been going on in our lives, and what did we end up doing? talking about the school’s budget, like we always do. seriously guys?” she watched how the two other girls averted their eyes, clearly guilty. 

she especially noticed how you seemed to be uncomfortably shifting in your seat whilst they were talking, so, giving you a subtle reassuring look, she added on.

“let’s leave it for when we’re at school and not in front of y/n, how’s that sound?”

the two other girls looked at each other, then you, and eventually nodded. just like that, the tension in the air disappeared, and you already felt calmer.

but not calm enough to be confident about meeting your girlfriend’s friends and actually enjoy this small get-together.

however, you couldn’t sit there and pretend that the silence that settled in between all of you wasn’t a comfortable one, especially with the way wonyoung’s hand rested on yours, it was a nice contrast to what was actively going on in your mind.

until it was brutally killed by the dramatic sigh that came from the familiar tall and bright haired girl’s mouth.

“well, i’m pretty damn hungry, aren’t you guys hungry? cause i sure am pretty fucking hungry!“

you internally laughed, acknowledging that she was naturally quite funny. you apparently weren’t the only one to think so, considering how that also earned a small giggle from the almost just as tall girl who you assumed was her girlfriend, since she was practically always looking at her with heart-shaped eyes, regardless of the situation; you could tell when a girl was whipped for another, and it was as clear as day. 

she was more than whipped for the blondie.

“you know jiwon, if you wanted to get up and go order, you could’ve just said that.” she said, smiling at the girl in question and looking stupidly in love. 

“well yeahh.. but it’s essential for everyone to know how famished i am at all times, darling; my hunger is everyone’s problem, i thought we knew this!” was what jiwon said back, her bright smile making the dimple on one of her red cheeks, her left one, even more prominent than usual, since it’s quite literally always visible. that earned a playful eye roll from the other girl as she continued giggling. 

the pet name helped confirm your theory that those two were a thing.

“you guys want anything?” she softly asked, quickly making sure.

“nope! we’ll get something later, thank you rei.” was what wonyoung responded before warmly looking at you, slightly tilting her head in a way that silently asked you if you felt like ordering. you politely declined by shaking your head, hand waving around as you’re doing so, for extra insistence.

after that, they stood up together and proceeded to walk towards the counter to order. their hands were grazing each other’s for a little moment as they talked, almost hesitant. that is, before jiwon gently grabbed the other girl’ hand and intertwined their fingers together, both now having acquired their place in line. smiling to yourself, you also particularly noticed how jiwon, her face now completely red, seemed to trip on literal air as she walked with the reason for that was giggling endlessly. 

man, what a match they were, you thought.

rei, if you remembered her name correctly, was soft spoken and careful with every little thing she said and did, her gentle tone offered some sort of contrast to jiwon’s, who on her part, was louder, more outgoing and spontaneous. being polar opposites, they complemented each other amazingly; from their behavior all the way down to their body language, it was impossible to miss how different yet similar they were.

it seemed as if wonyoung noticed you staring at them from a distance, so she assumed it would’ve been a good idea to give you a little bit of funny context. “can you believe they’re not dating yet?” she asked, looking at them with you.

“wait.. what? they aren’t?” you exclaimed, surprised at the almost unbelievable information your girlfriend just dropped on you. well there goes your theory, “are.. are you sure?”

amused, she shook her head, eyebrows raised, “mmhm.” she said, putting emphasis on the first m. “i swear at times it feels like i hear them gushing about the other way more than i see my own mom.”

you giggled, your eyes darted back and forth between her and the other girls, in disbelief. actually.. the more you looked at them, the more whatever wonyoung said seemed to be true; despite being this close and intimate with each other, there were signs of uncertainty, as if this was new for the both of them. like when jiwon seemed to avoid rei’s gaze whenever she spoke, or maybe even when rei seemed to blush at quite literally anything silly that came out of jiwon’s mouth, which was very often, by the way.

“crazy, i know.” she laughed, staring at the two with you. “i mean, they practically are by now, they’re just not aware of it themselves yet.”

okay yeah, you thought, nodding at your girlfriend, it made sense. 

they did look like a newlywed couple if they didn't know they were married, and that just made it all the more endearing to see, honestly. you were glad wonyoung was friends with such kind-hearted and genuine girls. 

that somehow contributed in bringing back that nerve-racking doubt you had ever since you stepped foot in here, however, and your amusement was once again quickly overshadowed by worry. see, those two seemed so happy with each other, despite not even dating, that it got you thinking about you and wonyoung’s relationship. 

rei and jiwon sort of reminded you of what you and your girlfriend were, way back before you started dating, back when she knew absolutely nothing about you and was instead curious regarding your person, intrigued.

you thought that maybe you didn’t end up exceeding her expectations like she initially believed you would, that you maybe weren’t as interesting of a girlfriend than she would’ve hoped, that she could do so much better than you. 

hell, maybe even the two friends you were staring at prior thought so.

you noticed how wonyoung stared at you with a focused expression, the one she always had on whilst she tried to comprehend something complex, whatever it was. many things elicited that reaction, sometimes it’d be an important yet contradictory school document, other times it’d be an attempt to read something that was written in one of the languages she’s not so familiar with, as rare as that was. 

right now though, she was probably trying to read you, a language she thought she was perfectly fluent in, yet was always met with a hard time understanding completely.

then, upon realizing that you were staring back at her, her eyes widened ever-so slightly and she gave you a warm smile. doing your best in not letting your insecurities spill through the cracks of your face, you smiled in return, as to not potentially worry her.

“we’re backk!” announced jiwon in a sing-song tone, quickly catching both you and wonyoung off-guard as she obnoxiously placed her tray down on the table, almost dropping it. rei’s, on the other hand, was set gently on the wooden surface whilst she carefully sat down on the seat, smiling to herself upon staring at the delicious looking food, completely disregarding the conversation happening right beside her. 

you nodded to yourself, that was truly respectable.

“already?..” asked the tall and brown haired girl in response, wearing a mischievous smirk girl at the blondie before continuing, “and here i thought that we were finally gonna have a break from you.” jokingly groaning and rolling her eyes.

“never gonna happen, unfortunately for you.” jiwon giggled at the banter, grabbing a handful of fries from the tray in front of her before forcefully shoving it into the other girl’s mouth, cutting the latter successfully.

that earned a giggle from everyone at the table, but rei’s tiny and polite laugh was especially noticeable among the bunch. 

turns out she always listens when it’s about jiwon, huh.

—

“what about you, y/n?” asked jiwon, distracting you from the conversation you were about to engage in with the delicious burger that nestled in between your eager hands. you looked at her, allowing her to carry on, “are you volunteering anywhere?”

all of a sudden, all three different pairs of eyes were on you, and you only. 

you cleared your throat, setting the hamburger down, now having caught a glimpse of what the conversation was actually about. volunteering, huh? is that a thing that student council members casually do when they’re bored..?

you didn’t want to seem like an asshole, but it’s not like you could afford to lie, either, especially not when wonyoung was staring at you so intently, like she was excited to merely hear you talk.

you felt guilty for even placing a word.

“oh uh,” you focused your eyes on the table, unsure of your response and the reaction you would get. “i would, but i barely have the time, unfortunately.. you know, with my job and all..”

“you know,” rei chimed in, shaking her medium-sized soda drink around before taking a sip, “you can say that you don’t care enough, we won’t judge.” she said in a joking manner, earning laughter from everyone at the table.

that was a joke, it’s obvious that everybody would be laughing. 

“ahah, yeah..” 

except you, of course, the best you could do at that moment was crack a slight smile since you were basically stuck inside of your own head by now, contemplating whether they were actually making fun of you in your face or if you were just overthinking everything again, just like you always do.

man, with each thought you had, you felt uneasy. the more they talked, the more overwhelmed you felt, especially if the conversation revolved around you;  self-consciousness wouldn’t even begin to describe it, despite your desperate attempts to sit and actually enjoy the moment, as well as the food in front of you, for that matter.

but alas, that annoying voice in your head had won again. the same voice that always goes on and on about how every person around you thinks you aren’t enough, and that you’re uninteresting and unlikeable, sometimes just plain annoying. 

that got the best of you today.

you reluctantly stood up, which caught the two girls’ attention, but especially wonyoung’s, all of their eyes perking up at you. “where you going?” asked jiwon.

“just the bathroom.” you replied almost immediately, “sorry, you guys can keep talking, i won’t be long.”

you make a beeline for the restroom after rambling out those words, not looking back for even a second. you push the door open once you get there, quickly closing it behind you before turning the sink on and looking at yourself in the mirror. 

get it together, y/n, you told yourself, don’t embarrass her any more than you already have.

you proceeded to splash some cold water onto your face, taking advantage of the fact that you conveniently decided not to wear any makeup today. to call it refreshing would be an understatement, as it helped you gain back composure.

that’s when you heard, and noticed from your peripheral vision, the restroom door cracking open. you turned off the running sink in hurry and turned to the door, wiping the water off of your face with your palm and forearm.

“..you okay?” 

“huh? yeah..” 

she looked at you some more. it was clear that she did not believe you for one second, she therefore locked the door behind you, as to not have anybody interrupt. she was going to ask again, however, she refrained from doing so and let you speak of your own accord.

you quickly understood that she was going to ask again, however, refrained from doing so and let you speak of your own accord. you took a deep breath, then you allowed your vulnerability to manifest itself through your words, just this once.

“..i just feel like.. i don’t know—“ you tried finding the right words to say, but nothing could potentially make the situation any worse than you’ve made it, “are you happy with me, wonyoung?” 

long pause. a very long pause.

she furrowed her eyebrows upwards, “…what?” her voice was now just above a whisper as she processed your words, slightly shaking. despite how subtle it was, you heard the fear in it. “o-of course i am, why wouldn’t i be?”

“i just feel… i feel like you deserve better than me.” you turned away from her, your eyes settling on the mirror before you, once again. “i’m sorry, i don’t wanna be annoying—“

“do i make you feel that way?” she asked almost immediately, cutting you off. her expression giving away her heavy dejection despite her best attempt to mask it. “do i make you feel like you’re not enough?”

hurting you is the last thing she would ever want to do, she’s certain she’d rather die a horrible death on the spot than cause you pain.

“no, of course not!” you responded just as fast, your gaze meeting hers as you turn to face her once again, “you’re great towards me, amazing, even. it’s… it’s just that, i’m scared that you’re doing it out of pure guilt.. is all—”

she, in response, was no longer taken aback. finally having understood what was on your mind throughout this whole outing, her worry evaporated from her face, leaving room for a sympathetic expression, “guilt?” she walked your way and stood beside you, her big hands now cupping your cheeks and holding them in a warm, loving embrace. “if i really was dating you out of guilt, would i really ask you to go out with me to meet my friends?”

“i don’t want you doubting my love for you ever again, okay?” she added, her eyebrows furrowed, now looking practically offended. “i mean, come on, let’s not forget that i have standards.”

interpreting your silence and the way you looked up at her as uncertainty, she continued, smiling at you, “and you exceed every single one; you’re amazing, y/n. you’re gorgeous, so incredibly smart, talented, understanding, so kind and genuine, too. the list could go on, honestly, but most important of all, i love you, i love you so much, and there is truly nothing in this world that’ll be able to change that.. i never, ever, wanna hear you say any of that again. also, never scare me like that? ever?”

“but—“

“nuh uh!” she hovered her index finger over your mouth, silencing you before you could protest, “no buts! you’re perfect and i’m very incredibly lucky to be with you, that’s final.” she insisted, before mumbling to herself, “also, i should probably tell rei to cut it down on the sarcastic jokes, shouldn’t i.. she gets comfortable way too easily—“

“no wony, i know she meant no harm. plus, i would’ve found it funny if i wasn’t so in my own head..” 

she sighed, then nodded. and as corny as it was, that whole conversation was enough to fully reassure you again. you cracked a shy and content smile, to which she happily reciprocated whilst gently stroking your hair with her hand, leaving a loving kiss on your forehead. “i love you, wonyoung, i’m sorry.” you muttered, barely audible. 

she groaned, having heard you, and rolled her eyes jokingly, “will you stop apologizing so much?” before smiling with nothing but love and admiration in her eyes, “i love you too dumbass, so much, and i’m afraid i’ll never stop.” she added, before leaving a small peck on your lips.

you returned the kiss, having wonyoung leaning into you and gently pushing you onto the sink. your hands went on both sides of her face and cupped her cheeks, your girlfriend melting into your touch with a smile immediately before pulling away and looking into your eyes.

now being in the right headspace and paying proper attention to her appearance, you just now noticed how good wonyoung really looked that day; her long brown hair perfectly straightened at the top and being more on the wavy side on the ends, the whole hairstyle being all, quite literally, tied together by a lavender-coloured ribbon. you’ve also noticed that she decided to wear her favorite  navy blue and white striped knit sweater and tucked it under the waistband of her blue denim jeans, incredibly effective in drawing attention to her waist whilst also keeping a cozy look.

she looked beautiful, there was absolutely no doubt about that, but your mind kept wandering further. you thought about how much more beautiful she’d look wearing nothing, before being hit with the sad truth that the two of you are in a public bathroom, and that the latter was very unlikely to happen.

still though, you smiled to yourself as your eyes trained down on her body, getting lost in dirty thought before looking up at her again. once your gaze met wonyoung’s, you watched her lips form into a stupid smile before she spoke again, making you realize how dearly you missed listening to her honey-like voice despite having heard it roughly 30 seconds prior.

“and what are you looking at exactly?” she tilted her head slightly, flirtatiously sliding her hand up and down your sides as she awaited your answer.

it’s crazy how your girlfriend of several months could still manage to turn your stomach to literal mush, every single thing about her made you short-circuit; her mannerisms, the way she talked to you, the way she always put her hands on the right spot, her smile… she was clearly out to get you.

and it didn’t look like that was going to change anytime soon.

“..nothing,” you replied, taking a short pause as you took in all of her features, before adding on, “you look good, babe.”

that pet name made sense again, you felt like yourself again.

“yeah?” she spoke back, now placing her two hands atop each side of the sink that you were already leaning on. her face now mere inches away from yours, your nostrils suddenly invaded by the hypnotizing smell of the sugary, expensive perfume she had on, the one that drove you nuts, “thanks for noticing.”

it took one last dorky smile from her before you officially lost your shit and pulled her back in for a kiss, this one hungrier than the previous, and it didn’t take much for wonyoung to acknowledge the desire you felt for her, either. she’d also be lying if she said she didn’t want you just as much. 

you could taste the cherry lip gloss she had put on previously as your lips danced in sync with hers, 

“wait,” you said in between kisses, “what about the others?”

“oh don’t worry,” she chuckled, wearing a knowing expression and slightly shaking her head in amusement at the thought, “they’re definitely keeping each other distracted. i would even go as far as to say that they completely forgot about us even coming along in the first place.”

as insane as it may sound, you could totally picture jiwon completely discarding her food and endlessly rambling about quite literally the dumbest thing ever whilst rei admired her silently, listening to every word the other girl spoke, entranced as she took tiny sips of her drink, perhaps as an attempt to make the moment last forever.

the two of you giggled to yourselves, seemingly having thought of the exact same thing before the urge to have wonyoung ruin you in this very bathroom hit you once more, only harder this time. 

it didn’t take long for your girlfriend to lean back into you, now making her painfully slow way down to your jaw, then to your neck, planting messy and lazy pecks across the skin. you felt her smiling against you with relish, taking in each and every soft noise that escaped from your mouth. her hands were growing more and more curious by the second, which caused them to explore and slide further down from the spot they initially settled on; your lower stomach and waist. they eventually worked their way up your black pleated skirt, teasing your entrance through the soft fabric of your already damp underwear.

that went on for a long while, so long so that you felt the pool in between your legs growing with each rub of the finger she gave you.

“god, look at you,” she then whispered against your neck, marking it up right to her liking, “perfect, always so perfect for me.” and watching you not-so-subtly grinding your hips against her hand at the words, longing for any sort of friction you could get. 

“wonyoung–” you whined out quietly, using all of your willpower to not make too much noise so as to not let the other people in the restaurant hear you through the closed door. she heard you though, she heard you loud and clear and that was all that mattered to her. she pretended that she didn’t, however, and pulled away from your neck to properly look at you to raise a knowing eyebrow at you. the back and forth motion she was doing on your clothed pussy now much, much slower. “what was that baby?”

“please.” you breathed out shakily, “i need you.. bad.”

“do you now?” she responded, cocky.

you nodded almost immediately.

she let out a tsk sound in response, “couldn’t even wait ‘till we get home, huh?” that confirmation was all it took for her to finally push your panties to the side just enough to be able to spread your cunt and squeeze her fingers into it, which was very wet enough to welcome her digits, she slowly inserted them further in. 

“so impatient, just for me, right?” she whispered, watching you as you nodded once again, this time more keen. she then paused, quietly taking in all of your reactions to her different  words and teasing, more than satisfied, she scoffed, “fuck, i love you—“

she pressed her lips against yours again, eager; she truly couldn’t get enough of you, everything about you was all she could ever want. you couldn’t help but let a guttural groan escape from your lips in response to her two fingers fully sliding inside of you in one swift motion, filling your insides up perfectly. you were undeniably loud, but the kiss definitely contributed to quieting you down, muffling the noise of your pleasure, the squelching sounds of your pussy being the only audible thing occupying the air.

it didn’t take long before she started pumping her fingers in and out of you, finding a slow and steady pace before fully ravaging your core. she quickly pulled away to catch a glimpse of the scene happening on the lower side of things; her hand reaching into your skirt and working its magic. the sight of that worked the both of you up even more, and she would’ve completely gotten rid of every piece of the clothing that’s in her way to you right then and there,

but then again, this was a public bathroom.

and you two were very quickly reminded of that once you heard knocking at the locked door, as well as tussling of the doorknob. wonyoung and you froze, albeit a very polite pair of knocking and turning, it scared the shit out of you.

“y/n? wonyoung? are you guys okay in there?” you heard rei’s easily discernible voice on the other side of the door. your eyes darted between it and wonyoung, mere inches away from you (who also seemed visibly panicked, as well as amused.)

well wonyoung was incredibly wrong in assuming they forgot about you two.

in a silent, mutual agreement sealed by a nod, you came up with a pitiful excuse, fighting back every potential shake of your voice that could manifest itself, “y-yeah, uh, i’m just fixing up my makeup and—“

suddenly, you felt your girlfriend’s thumb pressing on your sensitive and swollen bundle of nerves without warning, and began to rub it in a slow and painful circular motion, wearing a slight smirk while doing so. your stomach immediately dropped at the feeling, and your first instinct was to bite your lip as you tried your hardest not to moan out wonyoung’s name out loud,

obviously, you wanted to, but couldn’t; especially not when rei’s on the other side, worried about you two.

the tall brunette threw you a teasing glance, her expression practically reading ‘go on, keep going.’ so, as a matter of principle, you did. you pulled on her knit sweater in overwhelm, oh so desperate to just cum already and not risk getting caught and definitely kicked out, just imagining that walk of shame gave you goosebumps, “w-wonyoung’s with m-me.”

“okay! oh and also, jiwon wanted me to ask if you were gonna finish your food.” 

as bad as it was, your thoughts at that moment resembled ‘oh my god why isn’t she leaving yet’, especially when your love thought it was an amazing idea to casually fingerfuck you again, her fingers finding their familiar pace and curling against your g-spot perfectly. you kept tugging on her top, mouth slightly agape in surprise and overwhelming pleasure as you tried to come up with an answer.

“yes!” you cleared your throat after having that first word coming out a bit too excited for your liking, then continued, “yes, t-tell her she can have all of the remaining fries s-she wants.” you looked at wonyoung with hooded eyes right after slurring out those words, shaking your head in desperation. not at all in the right state of mind to even listen to her friend’s response who then thankfully left, you mouthed the words ‘i wanna cum so bad.’ to her.

she was gonna keep teasing you, but she decided that you’ve endured more than enough for that day. with her other hand, she settled her palm onto your mouth; she knew how loud you got when hitting climax. a few more pumps of her fingers into your puffy cunt was all it took for you to grip onto her sweater as you came all over her hand, eyes rolled back whilst you moaned and pleaded into her hand, bucking your hips into her and riding your high on her palm, her thumb still pressing your clit.

pulling her slander fingers out of you, she quickly made you taste how good you were and made sure you thoroughly and carefully licked every inch of it clean as you hazily muttered ‘i love you’s in between lick and sucks.

one thing was for sure, sitting back down at the table wearing underwear full of your slick was definitely an element of great embarrassment,

but at least you were now fully reassured that dating you was not at all one for wonyoung.

[chrisspirategirl]

Sweet treat — C.S. (ᥫ᭡)

WARNING: mention of sexual activity!

IN WHICH (💋).. drug dealer!chris meets party girl!reader

The music hummed from the speakers at full volume, walls vibrating from the intense pressure. It was certain the music could be heard from down the street but this neighborhood got used to that so by the 3rd party cops had stopped showing up to break up the event. On the far right corner of the living room stood Chris leaning against the wall blunt in between his lips eyeing down every inch of the room. Every person who entered and exited. If there was something someone needed Chris was the person to stumble upon, he knew what his clients needed and what worked best for who.

He was respectful to those who respected him. Never did that ass kissing shit for cash if you’re a shit customer he’s a shit dealer that’s how it worked.

The colorful led lights beamed all across the room casted a bright hue of colors, Chris kept his eyes peeled for anyone who would approach and soon enough he spotted one individual stalking towards him and his group, he straightened up his posture a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips when the woman got closer towards him.

“What can I get you?” He asked with that raw voice of his. The woman smiles “the usual Chris, and I’ve got a friend of mine I want to introduce.” She says summoning the other girl who stood a few inches taller than her long straight hair that rested perfectly against her shoulders she had this aura of confidence like she knew she could get whoever she wanted, her energy was a dark feminine—man eater.

“This is y/n” the girl continued “she wants to try your special.”

“Nice to meet you y/n” Chris says extending his hand towards hers, the name rolled off his tongue like velvet and he found himself enjoying the feeling of saying it.

Her hand slipped into his sharing a firm handshake, “nice to meet you Chris” her smile was flashed with charm and trouble.

Chris was captivated by her beauty—dumbfounded. He couldn’t look away from her afraid she’d vanish if he even blinked. “Chris?” The other woman called pulling him out of his daydream he shifted his gaze towards the other girl who had her eyes on Chris’s hand still holding onto y/n’s. He quickly dropped her hand like it was acidic clearing his throat “fuck sorry, $15.30” he managed to get ahold of his grasp on reality.

The girl hands him the money and he slips her the baggy stuffing the cash into his pocket.

“I’m gonna go find Josh okay y/n?” The girl says excusing herself, Chris mentally thanks her for leaving him and y/n alone it gives him a chance to get a better view of just her.

“So” Chris begins “you’re looking to buy?” His voice low and textured.

“Yeah, what do you got?” She asked tucking a strand of hair behind her ears stepping a bit closer to Chris, he fished into his pocket pulling out various bags filled with different supplements. “You looking to get fucked up?” He whispered roughly.

“Nah just something that’ll keep me at ease”

“Not into the hard shit huh?” He chuckled his eyes sneakily lowering to her plump lips, he could only imagine how they curled when he fucks into her. His name spilling from those deliciously pouty pink lips, his dick twitched in his pants a groan threatened to blow through his lips.

She shakes her head no “only when it’s needed” she chuckled clearly joking but he knew she was somewhat serious, she looked like the type who knew how to have fun—a wild girl.

A small smirk carved into Chris’s face when he picks out a small bag with the supplement of her choice, handing it over to her his hand brushed against her fingers which he did intentionally, “how much do I owe you?” She asked looking up at him with her sultry voice.

“No need ma, it’s on the house.” He responded dismissively to her payment, Chris would never give a drug to anyone for free not even any girl he found attractive. But it something about y/n that made him want to be at his knees for her yet she had this energy that she was untouchable to any man including Chris but that only excited him.

An eyebrow arched up on her face a look of confusion sat on her, “you’re giving me it for free?” She questioned perhaps she heard wrong due to the loud noise all around but Chris only repeated himself “I said no charge needed baby. Unless you really wanna give me a payment” he teased swiping his tongue across his bottom lip.

Her lips curved into a sly flirtatious smile, “you’re funny” she murmured, her voice laced with amusement. Chris only shrugged casually leaning against the wall behind him but his eyes stayed fixed on her unapologetically undressing every word she didn’t say.

“You’re very pretty” he spoke calmly unfazed by the loud crowd surrounding them.

“You think so?” She teased him which only made him more tempted to grab onto her feel his hands mold into her body.

“Yeah, I do baby” he hummed eyeing her up and down the imagination running wild through his head as he pictured her on top of him riding his dick feeling him buried inside of her—his name oozing out of her mouth as he stretched her out deliciously.

“You’re very flirty” she remarked, “you always like this with customers?”

Chris lets out a hearty laugh “only with you.”

Love me some drug dealer!chris yum yum, this is not proofread so I apologize if this story came out ass ://

Dividers —> @bernardsbendystraws

Tags 🏷️: @courta13 & @heartsonlyforchris

[bisexualiteaa]

Okay so this has been spinning in my head since I watched the series and it might come across as a but of a strange one 😅

BUT, please could you write one where the reader is pregnant(by someone else), meets Cooper along the way and they hit it off, they go through the pregnancy together, they then in the end they raise this little baby together. Sort of cute fluffy and a lil smutty too. Thank you! ☺️

A Slice of Paradise

Cooper Howard x Pregnant! Fem Reader (SMUT MDNI!!)

CW: slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from the show, slight deviation from the game, pregnancy, pregnancy cravings, pregnancy hormones, blood, canon typical violence and gore, dirty jokes, cursing, talk of kinks, biting, 🩸 kink, p in v, unprotected seggs, p0rn with little plot, mention of knives, possible grammar/spelling errors, not proofread

AN: thank you anon for your request! My apologies that I’m getting to these asks so late, life has been rather eventful and I’m only just getting back into the swing of writing after forever long writers block. 🥲 I thank you for your patience and apologize that there isn’t a whole lot of fluff in this one but that it absolutely has ✨S P I C E.✨ Hope y’all enjoy my attempted return to writing for our dearest cowpoke, love you all! ♥️

Taglist: @expirednukacola

Trying to survive out in the wastelands while pregnant was not how you had imagined your life to be when you first found out that you were going to be having a baby. When you had first learned that you were pregnant, you were living comfortably within one of the vaults that dwelled beneath the irradiated surface. You had been matched with a fellow vault dweller who they deemed befitting in their mission to “help repopulate the surface” and in an effort to help your people, you agreed to the arrangement. The overseer, and all the other scientists and workers within the vault, claimed that there was no residence or anything living in general, up on the surface and that it would be up to you and your neighbors to fix that. Never in a million years did you think that vault life would go to such complete and utter shit that you would have to come to the surface in order to survive. Never in a million years did you also think that you would find anyone up here willing to stick by your side and not try to kill you in your sleep, and when you did, you had never expected your company to be that of a Wild West cowboy styled, bounty hunting ghoul. Needless to say, life up here was so vastly different than what they had spoken of in the vaults, that some days you swore it couldn’t be real, that it was all just one big fucked up dream that you’d wake up from any time now. But no, this was all very much real. If you made it out of this alive and long enough to see the world even somewhat recover, you were going to write a book on the long list of weird shit you’ve been through.

“I said, give me the damn supplies. NOW!” you spat angrily, pointing the barrel of your gun directly to a raider’s forehead as an extremely angry scowl came to rest across your face. “I suggest you do as the lady asks, kid. She ain’t someone you wanna mess with” Cooper spoke chillingly with a grin, knowing your pregnancy hormones were in full effect today, leaving you moody as all get out, and on days like this, you weren’t afraid to cause bodily harm, or worse, to get what you wanted or craved. Your baggy shirts hid your pregnant belly well, though you were only just now reaching somewhere around four months along, you still didn’t want strangers knowing you were pregnant. God only knows what people do out here to women with babies, and the last thing you needed was someone thinking it made you weak enough to take advantage of.

When the raider’s reaction wasn’t quick enough to your liking, you fired on him without a shred of remorse. Stepping past his limp, dead body to retrieve the box of supplies that you demanded for the bounty Cooper had completed, along with a healthy amount of caps, stimpacks and other supplies from off of his body. “It’s gon’ be one of those days, huh?” Cooper asked, taking the box from you because he might not be the kindest man, but he wasn’t about to make a pregnant lady lug a heavy box of supplies across the desert either. Granted, he knew it was probably wrong of him to insinuate what he had or to poke fun at you the way he was, the grimace and absolute apathy on your face as you shot the raider in cold blood gave him all he needed for his answer, but he knew all too well how to poke the bear, and enjoyed doing so far too much for your liking most days. “Yes. I’m fucking hungry, craving that stupid cram and he was pissing me off. Took too damn long to give us what we’re owed” you answered, your hand coming to your stomach as you complained. “We? That’s a bit of a strong word there, little lady. ‘Cause if I recall correctly, it was me who finished that bounty” he said, enjoying getting on your every last nerve on the worst days possible to do so. It was sadistic sure, but it reminded him of the days when his ex-wife was pregnant with their baby girl. In a twisted sort of way it reminded him of home. “You tryin’ to tell me you’re gonna leave a pregnant lady out in the desert all by her lonesome? Damn, I knew you were cold, didn’t think you were that cold” you joked back, making him laugh dryly. “Oh trust me honey, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet” he said, making you laugh. Thank god you were on his good side, you’d seen all the horrifying things he was capable of, or perhaps all the things he’s let you see that he was capable of. Regardless, you were glad he considered you a friend rather than foe.

Well, friend was a strong word once upon a time, but now? You two seemed to tread on a line somewhere between platonic and romantic, jumping back and forth between it like a tricky game of hopscotch. Though you could never be sure, like the rest of the ghoul, he was shrouded in much mystery. His heart and intentions were certainly no exception to that. “Woulda at least let the poor kid have a chance first, unlike you. So I guess you ain’t gettin’ that much farther behind me there, girly” he commented, making you chuckle at the remark and you supposed he had a point, you really didn’t give the raider enough time but your patience has been running thinner and thinner as of late. So you did as you always do, blame the pregnancy and what the hormones were doing to your brain, or make a snide joke at Cooper. “I’d blame the baby again for it, but maybe you’re just a bad influence” you quipped, making him chuckle dryly. “Honey, I am an awful influence” he replied, making you laugh as you both walked. “You aren’t so bad sometimes. But maybe it’s just ’cause you like me” you responded with a devious grin, making him shake his head playfully in denial. “Best watch it, my kindness’s got limits darlin’ and they get smaller and smaller everyday” he said, making you chuckle. “Likely story. I cook too good for you to kick me to the dusty curb” you teased, and it was true, you were too good at cooking but also too good looking to pass up. More personally, you were a reminder of the good ol’ days before all the wasteland bullshit started. A reminder of the family he once had. He craved oh so desperately to have that little slice of heaven back, and you scratched that itch in a near perfect way that he just couldn’t let you go. Whether he liked it or not, he knew he was growing attached, and as much as he didn’t like it, he knew there was no helping it either. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe if you felt the same way he did, you both could have a little family together once your baby was born. A daydream he often thought of, but that was for another time. Right now, he needed to focus on keeping you safe as you both looked for a spot to shack up for the night.

As you made it somewhere safe, or as “safe” as safe gets out here for the night, you didn’t waste time making some food to keep you, the baby and Cooper fed after a long day’s travel. “That looks about as appetizing as a hog’s ass in swamp water” he spoke as he looked to your bowl filled with Blamco Mac n Cheese and cubed up Cram all mixed together in instant mash. “Don’t judge me, it isn’t me that’s wanting it so damn bad, it’s the baby” you replied, making him chuckle. Sounded exactly like what his ex-wife used to say when she had some outlandish craving when she was pregnant. “Besides, that’s coming from the one that eats people” you quipped as you horked down your entire bowl with lightning speed, making him tilt his head to the side. “Touché” he responded before turning your way when he caught you standing up out of the corner of his eye. He watched as you rolled your tense shoulders and attempted to massage your lower back to relieve the ache that began to culminate there but with the displeased look on your face, it appeared your efforts were fruitless. You hobbled over to sit by the fire, finding yourself walking rather funny from the ache in your feet and the tension throbbing in your tight calves. “You’re a walkin’ hot mess there, girlfriend” he teased, watching you squat to sit down next to him as you attempted to rub your back once more with a pained hiss. You gave a defeated, and equally pained, groan after chuckling at his quip. “Tell me about it. Had I known I’d have to manage up here, I’d have never gotten pregnant in the first place” you replied, rubbing your stomach after your hands once again could not provide you the relief from the tension your body craved to be freed from. “How far ‘long are ya now?” He asked, and you genuinely had to sit there and think about it for a moment. You figured with the way you were only really just starting to show more prominently that you were just about four months along, but you couldn’t honestly remember no matter how hard you tried. “What day is it?” You asked genuinely, making him laugh. “Shit, you don’t even know. That’ll be one hell of a surprise down the road when it pops out at the worst possible timin’” he joked, making you chuckle. “It’ll be a blessing, to finally stop carrying around the extra weight right on top of my bladder and allow some other things to shrink down a little bit maybe” you said, making him hum in amusement.

“I think it looks good on you. Plump is hard to come by these days and you sugar, got one nice lookin’ peach” he said shamelessly, making you laugh as he talked about your ass. “That why you like makin’ me walk in front of you all the time?” You asked with a grin, making him grin. “Can’t say it ain’t one of the reasons” he replied, making you laugh. “Careful, hormones are one hell of a thing to mess with when you’re talking to a pregnant lady. Suggest you don’t go starting something you can’t finish there, Coop” you threatened playfully, making him chuckle at your response. “Oh I can finish it, don’t you worry. It’s you that wouldn’t be able to keep up with me, sweetheart. ‘Specially not like that” he said, making you grin and give an intrigued hum at the challenge he was presenting you with. “Ain’t no love makin’ up here baby-doll, it’s straight up fuckin’. Sure we take our time with it, make ya feel good because it ain’t easy to come by, but it ain’t nothin’ like that soft vanilla shit you vaulties do” he said, making you grin as you leaned back on your hands and you saw the way his eyes almost immediately roamed your body. From your neck, down to your full tits that seemed to have gotten a little bigger since last time he looked at you real good, then to that cute little bump in your tummy, down to your hips and thighs that he just wanted to get a nice handful of. He wondered how soft you would feel in his rough hands, if you’d like the contrast. “Oh yeah? Think I don’t have kinks and shit like that just ‘cause I was in a vault? Can promise you some of us “vaulties” get our rocks off in similar ways to you wasteland folk” you responded, waiting to hear what his rebuttal would be. “Oh yeah? Like what?” He asked, watching you grin to yourself as you gave a soft chuckle. Normally you would never forgo this type of information about yourself, but it was a whole different world up here in the wastes, and this was a whole different you from that woman who came stumbling out that vault just some few months ago.

“Well, obviously one of those kinks is what got me pregnant in the first place” you started, making him chuckle because despite it not being anything crazy, it was still a little more interesting than some. “I like being choked, but I feel like everyone likes that one so that might as well still be vanilla” you said, making him laugh because you were right, that shit isn’t a kink up here, it’s standard practice. “So you think you like it rough, huh?” He asked as he pulled out his hunting knife, cleaning it while you both conversed oddly casually about kinks. His question made you blush a bit, it caught you off guard that he put two and two together so quickly. “I don’t think, I know I do” you answered truthfully, making him grin. “Hell, I bet you ain’t seen rough. I’d reckon you ain’t ever been manhandled by someone or used as a means of blowin’ off some steam” he said, looking at his reflection in the knife and watching the way you looked at him as he handled it. You might have thought he missed it, but he noticed the subtle way your thighs clenched together as he fiddled with it and talked about you being used and tossed around like a rag doll. “I have, just not…well, it wasn’t very good but they at least tried I guess?” You said, almost as if you were asking him and not telling him, making him laugh. “You askin’ me or tellin’ me? ‘Cause you sure as hell don’t sound so sure anymore” he replied, making you sigh. “Fuck it, who am I kidding? It was fucking awful. It wasn’t at all what I wanted it to be” you quickly admitted, making him hum in reply. “I will say…you’ve made me discover a few new ones since we started traveling together” you said almost nonchalantly, and that most certainly caught his attention. “Oh yeah? And what might those be?” He asked, genuinely curious of what he could have done to awaken something in you. “People in my vault were afraid to be rough, whether during sex or not but you aren’t and I like that a lot about you. I know you probably think I’m joking when I say I like “rough” or think I have no idea what rough entails but I do. I like being tied up, having knives involved, and getting manhandled and stuff like that” you said, making him chuckle at the very innocent seeming you, admitting to liking dangerous things. “That so, vaultie?” He asked, not wishing to admit just how much your bashful admission had gotten to him and instead was thankful for making you roll your eyes at the nickname to avoid catching sight of the issue beginning to grow in his pants at all the ideas now rummaging through his brain like a rampant wildfire. “That why you like starin’ at my knife each time I use it? And why you didn’t protest when I tied you up when we first met?” He asked, and you were almost mortified at his question, knowing now that he’d noticed all the times you’d sat there, infatuated by the way he used it. Embarrassed that he caught the look in your eyes the first time his fierce ones met your own as he bound your wrists together and walked around with you like a prisoner on a leash. “Yeah…didn’t think you caught me on it though. But enough about me and my kinks, how ‘bout you? What about sex with you is so different, huh?” You asked, trying your best to move the subject away from you but your question was like the cherry on top of his fucked up thoughts, making an evil grin stretch to his lips as you laid the perfect opportunity out for him to take.

“How ‘bout you come and find out for yourself, sugar?” He asked, taking you off guard by his advance, but you couldn’t deny the way it sent a surge of heat straight to your core at such a straight forward answer. The pregnancy hormones had been eating you alive lately, making you stare at him in ways you shouldn’t have, thinking about him in ways you knew you shouldn’t. Old you would have kicked yourself for thinking the way you had been and allowing yourself to seem so desperate, but you two were close enough at this point. It wasn’t as if you were stooping low enough to just fuck some random stranger. Well, scratch that, you sort of did that already because that’s how you wound up pregnant in the first place. Thanks Vault-Tec. Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong, or seem so desperate of you after all. He chuckled at your look of shock at his reply, making you blush in embarrassment that you were nearly frozen, unsure of what to do or what to think when you normally always had something to sass him back with. “C’mon now, surely ya didn’t think this wouldn’t end up happenin’ did you? We been layin’ it on thick with each other f’ too damn long now to play that game” he said with such confidence, it almost pissed you off but you couldn’t be mad, not when the pregnancy hormones made you so incredibly horny for this man that you could hardly think of anything else. Your mind was swimming at all the ideas of what he could be capable of, what he had the potential to do. You were left truly wondering just how different, and possibly how much better of an experience it would be with him rather than the last time you’d had sex. You wondered if it would really be any different than what you and your fellow vault dwellers were accustomed to or if maybe he was talking up a big game to get you interested. Regardless of whether it was talk or not, it had the effect on you he was hoping it would, because now you were past the point of pretending you didn’t want to find out, you needed to know. You felt as your core began to ache, excitement beginning to collect in the pit of your stomach as your panties grew damp at all your dirty thoughts. “Honestly I…I-I didn’t know it passed your mind like it has been on mine” you admitted with a deeper blush, making him chuckle as he moved closer. “So ya do think of me? Well ain’t that cute” he replied. “Hard not to think about you like that when I’m watchin’ them nice big hips sway whenever you walk in front a me” he added, making you chuckle as your cheeks burned about as hot as the campfire. “I haven’t uhh…I haven’t *done anything* since I got pregnant so, I’m not really sure how to go about it but, if you’d be willing, I’d like to find out just how different it is to be with you” you said so sweetly, almost innocently and damn it if it didn’t make him feel some type of way. He chuckled to himself a little. “Looks like you’re in luck then. Even luckier that it’s with someone who’s got a little more experience in this field than the average hit ‘n quit” he said, and that’s what stopped you for a moment. Was that all that this was going to be for him? A one night thing to settle some curiosity, then go right back to the way things were? After all this time spent traveling together and getting close to him, you didn’t want that to be the case. It was in that moment you’d realized just how much you genuinely cared for the ghoul who was in your company.

“On one condition” you said, making him raise a non existent brow at you, curious to hear what you had to say. “It’s more than just a one time thing. I don’t…I don’t do flings. Call me a “deluded little vaultie” for it or whatever else you want, but I only want this if you want it to go somewhere, even if it ain’t anything more than a fuck buddy situation” you said, and truth be told he wasn’t completely sure on what he wanted. He knew it had been a long time since last he had a chance to do something like this with someone, and that he liked you but he also knew the thing going on between you had been going on for long enough, why not see where it goes? “Trust me sugar, if you’re still here travelin’ with me, ain’t none of it gonna be without somethin’ behind it. Had you asked me when we first met? I’d have told ya different, but against all better judgement ya managed to get me attached to ya. This is me tellin’ you to pay your consequence for bein’ such a damn tease all the time” he responded with a grin that relieved your every nerve, his hand coming to grab yours and moving it to the tent in his pants to prove his point, making you grin and chuckle. “Didn’t know I get you that worked up” you replied teasingly as you moved closer. “Imma let you in on a simple rule I like to live by, little lady; you cause it, you fix it” he said, and you grinned as you grabbed his hand, pulling it to slide beneath your shorts to rest outside your panties that were getting wetter and wetter with your excitement. “Looks like you got some responsibility to take too then, cowpoke” you said with a grin, and that’s when he knew this would lead to something good.

You smiled into your shared kiss, shocked to find the slightly chapped, thin irradiated lips to feel so nice against your own. It wasn’t sweet like the kisses you’d had before, it was carnal, passionate even. Driven by pure lust and god did it make you melt. Your hands came to rest on the back of his neck as you straddled his lap. Your knees were dug into the sand beneath his sleeping bag without a care in the world as his hands groped your ass and sensitive tits. You moaned as his lips and teeth soon worked at your weak spot on your neck, making you roll your hips against him as your eyes fluttered shut. You held onto him as you rocked your hips back and forth, earning a groan from the ghoul below you. “Fuck, Cooper…please” you whined, making him pull away from your neck to click his tongue at you. “You can beg all you want, but I ain’t skippin’ over the good parts just ‘cause you’re gettin’ antsy” he said with a grin up at you before popping open the buttons of your beat up flannel shirt and latching onto one of your breasts, sucking on the sensitive bud. You normally were self conscious of the fact that you’d foregone wearing a bra in favor of comfort, but in this moment you couldn’t be more thankful that it was one less article of clothing to worry about taking off. You moaned as his fingers toyed with the other side, pinching harshly as his teeth would occasionally nip at your perked bud or the soft skin around it, but being sure to give your tits equal love and attention. Rather shocked that you hadn’t yelped or drawn back at his rougher display to your overly sensitive nipples, he continued. “Fuck…” you whined, feeling as one of his hands dragged down to the waistband of your underwear, before working his hand beneath it to your clit. His fingers worked tight circles along your aching bud, leaving your head devoid of all thoughts as he brought you the pleasure your body had been craving for ages. You hated the way you felt so close to your impending release already, having been pent up since even before leaving the vaults, and now that you were pregnant, you were even more sensitive to it all. “Oh god, Cooper…” you panted out, your strained, pleading voice like music to his ruined ears as you moaned his name. “Doin’ good for me sweetheart” he praised, only adding fuel to the fire that was ready to consume you at any moment.

You moaned blissfully at the pleasurably painful stretch of him working his way inside of you finally. God how you ached for that feeling, to be stretched and filled in ways nothing else could give you other than him. “Damn you’re a tight little thing” he commented, already moving and setting a pace without giving you time to adjust. It was bliss, the painful draw out but the pleasurable thrust back in. You just couldn’t get enough. “Normally this is where I’d throw you around and fuck you absolutely stupid, but last thing I want is t’ hurt that baby” he said, making you wish you could know what it felt like to be used by him, to be thrown around and taken by him but you knew you couldn’t, not yet. “Maybe I’ll just give ‘em a sibling instead, how’s that sound, sweetheart?” he asked in your ear in a low rasp as the sound of skin slapping skin started to fill the air. A pleasant, tingling shudder ran down your spine at the prospect of it, clearly he hadn’t forgotten that first kink you’d told him about. He gave a grin, feeling the way your walls fluttered around his dick from his words, and seeing the effect it had on you left him nearly feral. Guess you weren’t lying when you said one of those kinks of yours was the reason you were pregnant. “Yeah? You’d like that wouldn’t you, sweet thing?” He asked, knowing the answer but he loved the way he had you absolutely cock drunk on him too much to not try and hear from you. “Yes! Fuck, I’d love that, please!” you said through your moans, making him chuckle. “I betchu would” he said all smug and proud. “Bet you get off on the idea ‘f fuckin’ someone who could rip you t’ shreds, dontchya sugar? Ya like it dangerous” he said, making you shake your head yes in reply. “Yes! Fuck- Cooper!” You moaned into the midnight air, your back arched from the ground as you moved your hips to meet his thrusts, desperately chasing your high. “Look good like this, sprawled out below me all helpless and vulnerable. I could just eat you alive” he said with a sadistic grin, his lips just below your ear, his breath ghosting your neck as he rocked his hips into you. “Bet you’d taste so fuckin’ good” he added, groaning through gritted teeth as he watched your engorged tits bounce with each harsh thrust, fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your soft, smooth skin. “Why don’t you- fuck! Have a taste and find out?” You replied, making him look up at you with a wild look in his eyes. It was untamed, feral even and by god if they weren’t the most magical words he’d ever heard. “Shit, don’t play with me” he said, looking at your neck and shoulder, practically drooling over the idea of how you would taste. “I ain’t playin’, bite me” you insisted, and with that, he surely wasn’t going to pass down such a beautiful opportunity.

His blunt teeth sunk into the flesh of your shoulder, making you hiss as a white, hot pain coursed through the muscle before simmering into something more pleasurable. “Shit! Cooper- fuck me, that feels good” You moaned as he almost seemed to use his teeth to attach himself to you as he rutted into you with reckless abandon, leaving you writhing beneath him in pleasure. His eyes rolled back as a moan left him from the taste of your blood flooding his tongue, you were even more delicious than he originally anticipated. Crimson coated his lips and teeth, a small stream even leaking from the corner of his mouth and down the column of his neck as he detached himself from you. He’d gotten his taste, given you an experience you certainly wouldn’t forget, but the sight below him was certainly one he would forever commit to memory. The imprint of his teeth marks that marred your otherwise perfect skin, deep purple beginning to blossom around it as blood faintly trickled down your chest from the fresh wound. If you weren’t delicious before, you were absolutely delectable now. He ran his tongue along the trail of blood, the hot, wet muscle leaving a trail of saliva in its wake as he traveled back up to the source before laving his tongue across the punctures in your skin that he left. “Freaky little thing” he said, grinning at the way you had enjoyed feeling him sink his teeth into you and allowing him to taste you in such a manner. “Told ya” you quipped before being cut off by your own moan as he found that sweet spot deep inside of you, brushing past it with almost perfect precision. “Right there! Fuck, just like that. So close…” you whined, making him chuckle. “Go ‘head sweetheart, let go for me” he permitted, and with that, the coil in your core snapped, sending you toppling over the edge into an orgasm so earth shattering you swore you were no longer on this earth in that moment. Cooper was quick to withdraw from you, wanting nothing more than to feel the sweet way your gummy walls would hug him as he came inside of you, but he couldn’t bare the thought of putting that precious baby of yours at any more risk. For now he would have to settle on finishing on you rather than in you, but the sight of you covered in his cum was surely another marvelous one to behold in his eyes. From the way your eyes sat lazily half lidded, to the way his seed looked upon your chest and stomach, he had to admit, it certainly wasn’t a sight to complain about.

You both took a moment to bask in the afterglow of your orgasms, coming down from cloud nine to do your best at steadying your breathing. The gentleman he was, he helped in cleaning you up, offering you some Rad Away to take when you were finally able to pick yourself up from his sleeping bag. “Sate your curiosity?” He asked with a grin as he slipped his pants back on and his duster, lighting up a cigarette to enjoy as he sat next to you. You gave a laugh as you redressed. “Sated my curiosity for tonight, but never know what these hormones have in store for me tomorrow” you replied, making him laugh dryly. “Suppose I can’t argue with that logic” he said, making you giggle as you took the Rad Away and got ready to sleep, thankful for the warmth his body provided in the frigid temperature of the desert night air. You weren’t sure what tomorrow would bring for you two, but at least you knew it was something you both could grow to explore. Maybe that slice of heaven wasn’t such a distant memory after all.

[delusional-fantasising]

I Do Love You (Soldier Boy x GN reader)

Summary: Reader tells him 'I love you' and he gets overwhelmed and shuts off.

Warnings: Soldier Boy kinda being an asshole/biggot, angst no happy ending, trauma, sexual undertone at one moment, slight misogyny, self hatred and emotional shut off

Word Count: 1176 words

The night was young, Soldier Boy had agreed dating you during his time with your team, The Boys. But one thing was obvious, under his brave and dominant bravado he was scared of loving ever again. He didn’t want another betrayal, another heart break, it just wouldn’t let him sleep to the idea of ever loving again. He was terrified of the thought that you, the one person he had slowly began to trust without any benefits could love him.

Every woman’s words rang out in his ears whenever you smiled at him;

“They don’t and they never have. The woman are either humouring you or they’re scared of you. But none of them like you.”

“I didn’t love you, I hated you. We all did.”

Soldier Boy was sitting near you with an arms reach of you, sure there was a part that did somewhat loved you but another part of him was sabotaging himself, ‘They don’t love you. They are afraid of you.’

He wasn’t looking in your direction, he was watching a documentary with you about all the years he missed. It was hard for him to watch to learn everything that changed and forced to change so fast. He had slowly gotten used to the race change not that he had too big of an issue, sorta. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around the gender roles, he found it absurd that men were no longer expected too much to have an income but more rather be expected to be emotionally available, talk things out when things get hard, respect boundaries, and empathy.

“Phht back in my day I never had to do that, women where at home and I would give them pleasure and necessities,” He scoffed as he listened to the feminist rallies that happened. You almost choked on your drink when he mentioned the whole pleasure thing, it was no joke and there was rumours from past lovers of his that his only green flag was that he was the one to go for pleasure.

“Soldier Boy, you can’t be saying that!” You laughed with very much flushed cheeks, he rolled his eyes at you telling him what to do. He wasn’t a big fan of being bossed around, he had to be in control not someone else. But then you say something that made him freeze, his hands gripping the couch arm till his knuckles went white.

“You are so lucky I love you enough to let that slide for now but you seriously got to get with the times. Women don’t want just pleasure, they want emotional connection.”

I love you…

Love.

Soldier Boy just looks away without responding to what you said initially, he was focusing on what his therapist says whenever he feels like he’s going to have a PTSD episode. (The boys forced him to go)

Breath in for four seconds

Hold it in for four seconds

Exhale for four seconds

Hold it in for four seconds

Repeat

Once he felt himself mostly calmed down he just gave a rude snarky response, his tone sarcastic, “Love. That’s a pretty big word, isn’t it? Especially for someone who barely knows me.”

“What? C’mon we have been dating for a month, you have told me some deep stuff. I just want to express some of my love for you,” You chuckled sounding confused at his sarcastic outburst but not taking it to heart since you knew that he sometimes does this to cope. You didn’t know you hit a trigger since the only one you knew about was nothing Russian around him especially the song ‘Escape’ as it triggered one of his worst episodes of exploding. Soldier Boy snapped at you and laughs with a mocking gesture as he waves his hand, “Oh so I opened up a few times and now you know me. This is crap and everyone now and days just throw that around with no meaning. I’m not some person who you can google and get all the real information about me, you don’t know anything about me besides what I want you to know.”

The bitter tone, the sharp cold glare as you could tell he was closing himself off emotionally off from you again. Trying to get distance to avoid a pain you never wish to bestow him.

“Benjamin, I want to know you then. I can’t do this if you just shut me out, I want you to feel safe around me. I really do love you,” You begin, bringing his real legal name to show how serious this conversation was. To show honesty to him and not some fake love that he has gotten in the past by a certain woman.

“Save it, I heard it all well too many times before, ‘I love you, Benjamin.’ Then follows is a knife to my back after you kick me down,” Soldier Boy spat the look of hurt in his eyes and his lip quivered slightly as he wasn’t ready for hearing someone say that to him ever again. “Benjamin I’m not Crimson Countess, I’m not going to hurt you like she did.”

“You can’t promise anything, no one can. Love is just a word, a filthy fucking lie people tell themselves to make them feel better. It doesn’t and will never mean anything to me!” He spat getting up from the couch to pace angrily not looking you in the eye anymore. His eyes getting watery at the thought of going back in the box.

The box

THAT FUCKING BOX

“That’s not true. Love means everything to me and Ben I mean it when I say I love you. Every little imperfection, even when you can being a raging asshole and slightly biggoted you have been changing for the better and I’m proud of you for it.”

Proud, he stopped in his tracks. His trembling hands at his sides turning into fists. He felt his walls of defense cracking at how much he wanted to believe your words but he just ended up muttering, “I used to believe that but love’s just a precursor to disappointment, it’s something to avoid the harsh reality of the real world… I don’t want to lead you on to disappointment”

He was avoiding being vulnerable but it was hard keeping everything bottled up. A tear was slowly building up threatening to spill, his muscles tensing up. Maybe a joke or another witty comment to brush off the stupid feelings. The feelings that made him weak.

“Ben, you won’t disappoint me.”

“Shut up. Just shut up,” Soldier Boy grumbled trying not to set off any alarms with you since he wasn’t facing you, he didn’t want you to see him cry, see him weak.

He isn’t in control

His feelings were going rampant.

You got up, sensing those tears practically going up to him softly cupping his face to make him face you. There was so much emotional turmoil brewing underneath the cold hard wall he placed up. He was scared.

Scared of you.

Part 2

[pelibirdie]

"A brand new year to remember"

Relationship: Kuras x (GN) reader

A/N: squint and you will see some yearning and pining between the two. Burn so slow the meat is still raw.

That being said happy late birthday to my fucked up biblically accurate guilt ridden husband

Summary: it's Kuras's birthday. Though he is not a man of celebrations, you decide to still do a small gesture for him and keep him company for his birthday.

You lounged on the sides of the clinic. The harsh smell of ointment hung in the air as Kuras treated a burn mark left from a…rather explosive celebration from the night before. By no means was it a pretty sight, but you expected such a focused face from the doctor that stitched your arms back on. His pristine white coat laid on the chair he sat on when there was too many paperwork. His hair was tied back. You could hear nothing but the sharp breaths of the patient and the light chime of his earrings. 

Kuras was a strange man. Something about him stood out like the last star on a night sky. The cruel world you knew so far seemed to not have rubbed off on the man before you. To give out free treatments and walk the streets like nothing could ever harm him… was far too strange. But it brought you comfort and made you feel safer so you decided to spend your days in Eridia helping out in his clinic. Whatever small thing you could do to take your mind off of your curse. 

“Run the water please.” 

You nodded at Kuras and made your way to the small sink of the clinic, cleaning out the bowl of ointment and the scissors. Soon enough, Kuras also came by you to wash his hands off. 

“Something on your mind?’’ 

“Well,” 

“Goodbye, doctor! Happy birthday!” The bloodhound shouted as he left. 

“It’s your birthday?!” You stared at Kuras, eyes wide with interest. He seemed to avoid your gaze, golden eyes fixating on anything but you. “Yes. I’m afraid Leander is once again making a deal out of it.” He sighed as he sat down, letting his locks fall down his tall frame. “I do not have anything against my birthday, but I’m sure you are aware of my distaste towards all the cheap drinking and the Wet Wick. You need not make a big deal out of it. Please. Big celebrations get messy often.” 

You approached him slowly, standing before where he sat. “Alright, I’m not going to ‘make a big deal out of it’. However,’’ You placed a hand on his shoulder, gently swiping away one of the strands of hair off his collarbone. “I am still your friend. And I do think it’ll be nice to step out of the clinic for one night.”  A ghost of a smile crept up its way to the renowned doctors' lips. Kuras slowly took your hand, not removing it from his shoulder. Simply holding it as he stared into your eyes. 

You must look somewhat sheepish and nervous. Because the doctors’ face went cat-ish to your reaction. Eyes turning sharp with amusement. He always had eyes that stood out, bright, golden, unnatural but captivating nonetheless. “I’d be up for that. But only for the evening.” He leaned forward onto his desk resting his right elbow on the hard wood, still holding your hand without breaking eye contact. “You can leave if you please, I doubt the amount of people who made bad decisions when drunk last night is going to lessen in the coming hour or two.” You took a step towards the desk, slowly sitting on it to remain at a higher eye level than him. “Or the third, or the fourth,” you joked.

“So much for the yearly celebrations. I suppose Eridians know how to have fun every once in a while, no?”  

Kuras shook his head “Let them have it, people barely have a good time nowadays.” His eyes fell down again. A small silence followed his words. Only then you notice small changes in his frame, his messier hair, hands dyed in some herbs he used for the ointment, and eyes more tired than usual. “And I will be there to aid them whenever they do make bad desicions.” 

You slowly moved your hand to his arm, giving small caresses to his shoulder with your thumb. Your hands were covered with the bandages, but you also had the gloves you wore around the clinic on. You were used to giving fleeting touches, but these gloves were making you bolder. You cursed in your head, paranoia slowly creeping back into your head. You took your hand off of Kuras, getting up to grab your coat for the cold winter day waiting for you outside the clinics' doors. You smiled as you opened the door, feeling the wind on your skin.

“I’ll see you tonight, doctor.”

“Stay safe, (Y/N).”

The day went by concerningly fast as you went through the market, looking through herbs, scarves, trinkets…anything to get the doctor for his birthday. At least whatever you could afford for now. You looked at the pouch you got while walking back. Staring at the gift to ensure it is safe. You quickly made your way to the Wet Wick, asking Leander for a pen and paper. Soon, you are up in your room writing away. It doesn't occur to you that the sun has set until the Wet Wick starts getting unbearably loud. You run down with your jacket and your gift, dodging the crowd around the bar. “Hey (Y/N)! Have you seen Kuras?’ Leander called from the other side of the Wick, “No sorry!” was all you could shout before making it out of the Wet Wick. 

You sped through the streets. Though it was not safe to wander at night, you had hoped at least your pace and the lit-up streets would make getting to the clinic easier for you. But all thought came to a halt as you heard a wet, crunching noise. A noise of bones being broken and flesh being torn. A noise too familiar. Suddenly you were sprinting, checking behind you every once in a while until you ran face-first to someone. “I didn’t expect you to be this excited.” You breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing his tall frame. Sensing you are shaken up, Kuras held you by your shoulders. “Be not afraid, I am here. Let’s walk towards more light.” 

“Ah, sorry about the scare Kuras. I heard something then-” 

“It is alright, (Y/N). What matters is you are safe.”

Conversation takes over the two of you as you walk and wander through Eridia. Seeing the Amaryllis District's colorful decorations from the celebrations before, sensing the strong smell of fried dough and hearing the shouts of vendors from the stalls, tasting some swirly eridian desert with cinnamon in it (though Kuras seemed to lose the pastry the moment he hold it, leaving you confused as you did not even see him take a bite) the night came to a calm point. 

So far you had discussed about Eridia, how you had somewhat adapted to the city, the celebration yesterday, and certain interesting things you noticed in Kuras’s practice. The conversation gave itself away to peaceful silence as you stood on the bridge between Hightown and Lowtown. Somewhere far in Hightown, you could hear the faint sound of a lute being played. The nights were much less chaotic here. 

“So, how old are you now?”

“Old.” 

“Oh come on, I know that already-”

“Oh are you saying I look old?”

“Kuras!” 

He chuckles to himself as he leans on one of the statues. The night is clear, the stars are bright, and the wind is gentler than it was that afternoon. You take out the pouch and the letter, holding them out to Kuras.

“Happy birthday, Kuras. I hope this year is better than the previous ones.” 

Kuras’s gaze meets your own, his golden eyes and jewelry contrasting the bright moonlight, his hair ticking his face and neck. Kuras looks almost glowing as he takes the items from your hands. “You didn’t need to.” “It was about wanting to. And I did. But please read that letter when I’m not around.” you scratched your neck and looked back at the sky. Kuras blinked, once looking at his full hands and then at you. Suddenly choosing to move much closer to you, until his white coat is touching the warm wool of the cloak he got you when you first came to Eridia. 

“Thank you. (Y/N). I have lost track of my many birthdays, but your presence makes this celebration one to remember.” 

…It felt quite warm all of a sudden. 

[kerryshifts]

Kerry, if you feel comfortable in helping me out or giving me some tip. I would be a lot grateful. even with all my studies about shifting, I fear I still not grasped what it really is. I tried a lot of things as meditating, detaching, visualizing, but I’m not making any progress anymore. (Didn’t make past some mini-shifts or dreams about it). For me, it’s hard to adapt to the concept of detaching, or believing I can control my reality when I simply cannot control it. And on top of that, there’s always this fear inside my head, telling me that someday I will discover that shifting was just a huge inside joke, and I’m afraid of getting hurt because of this. (Victim behavior, borderline pathetic, i know, but… just happens) it’s there something more I can do or try, should I just let go? I’m really stuck right now

also is completely okay if you don’t want to answer this if it feels tmi or just uncomfortable 🫶🏻

anon, i totally understand where you come from, but hear me out now:

i. shifting as an inside joke: you may think this because you discovered shifting on tumblr or, worse, tiktok. a social media where you saw people of your age doing it just for fun. (and with a lot of misinformation). so, of course the first thing your mind (who was educated on not believing in things you can't prove) will think things such as “oh, they must be lying” especially because our generation always lies about something. like, going to hogwarts – here, a fictional place – must seem like pure psychosis for someone who doesn’t believe in “those things.”

but, here’s the thing: we, as humans, have to give names to things. and now shifting, since it has a name, seems somewhat less… normal, to us. but if i told you that shifting is not just about realities very different from ours? when you wake up in the morning, and you choose to get up of bed instead of staying in it. that’s a shift. in a parallel reality, you are still in bed. nothing crazy about it. even if you don’t believe in shifting, you still shift. everything you think, everything you say, every choice, is a change in your reality.

and i understand that the “why would i lie” is not enough. i really do understand. but… kerry is not even my irl name. on tumblr, you can’t even see followers. you can’t get paid. i have a job and barely not free time. me, and the people on tumblr who most likely are not showing our faces, why would we do this? why would we lie about something that is part of the human nature? if you discovered shifting with tiktok, this has been a thing (on tiktok) since 5 years now… jokes are not this long-lasting, and they don’t go on other platforms.. with big ass communities. its not pathetic, its okay to feel scared of people lying to you.

if you want a proof, the proof is you and your existence. do you know the phrase “your actions have consequences” ? yeah, exactly. anything you do has a consequence on your reality. this is shifting.

ii. what the fuck is shifting: if you feel like you didn’t grasp what shifting is, let me try to explain it for you.

look at the mirror. boom. that’s shifting. *mics drops*

basically, you are human. humans are aware. awareness is understanding what is going on around you. is you touching your hair, hearing your voice, smelling your favourite food, seeing your face in the mirror. so, reality. then you decide to switch the radio, and suddenly you have a different favourite food. reality changed. then you see at this beautiful hair box dye, and reality changes again. your awareness now is conscious of you having a different fav food and different hair colour. you understood this. something clicked in your brain, and decide to switch the radio again. but this time — you know, you are aware that you made this decision. and here you are, with the life you wanted. you are now aware of this reality.

you say “it’s hard to adapt the concept of believing i can control my reality where i simply cannot” and, anon… did you ever had a bad thought? like, maybe you knew that a day was going to be boring, and it was. did you knew that today was going to be a bad hair day, and then it was? because that’s what controlling your reality also means. if you think you cannot control your reality, your thoughts become what you think. your 3D (the reality) is your essence, and if your essence is negative, your experience will be too. even if you can’t adapt this concept, the concept is still here in reality. so, now that you know it, you can use it at your advantage.

i just made a shifting 1O1 here.

iii. meditating, detaching, visualising: nothing works, you say? well, what where you thinking they would be useful for? like, did you do them because some folk on tiktok said that they were the key for shifting, or you did them because you found them helpful? were they stressing you out, or you felt joy in it? now, think about this: were you thinking that they were making you shift, or you knew that they were just things helpful in any way to you, and that you are in your dr?

detaching. from this reality? its not something you have to do in order to be in your desired reality. can help? if you desire.

visualising. your dr? good, does this bring you happiness? or it’s just making you think if you are doing it correctly or not? can help? if you desire.

meditating. cute, did you enjoy doing that? or everyone was saying that it was perfect for shifting and you just did it without even knowing that you are already in your dr? can help? if you desire.

iv. your studies about shifting: i understand what you are saying, but you are making it feel as if some academic complicated things that you can only understand if your professor is explaining every word of the lesson. it’s not like this. it’s easy. if you hear someone say “shifting is so complicated!!” just roll your eyes and know that you are already living your desired life. your existence is not an academic research.

v. should you let go? let go of all the complicated thoughts. you thinking that shifting is complicated is also a shift. your thoughts are becoming your reality. shifting is not supposed to make you stress. shifting it’s easy. it’s you. and that’s it.

[ballsandbabes]

What I had Pt.III : Michael Kaiser x Reader

Summary: Series finale where Kaiser's assistant leaves him.

Authors note: Yeah, uhm… not proofread// GIF is not mine// the reader is female// pure chaos/ have fun <3

Series: Part.I // Part. II // Part. III

It had been two weeks since the fight in the hotel room and three, since you officially transferred to the Graphics & Textile department.

You didn’t miss being Kaiser’s shadow. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you adjusted your dress in the mirror at the Bastard München Charity Ball. You were dressed in black satin, elegant and composed, arm linked with Maik, your new colleague from Graphics, who—unlike some people—knew how to say please and thank you.

He was sweet, laughed at your jokes, and even helped you fix your lipstick when you smeared it earlier at the dinner. The evening was a swirl of music, clinking glasses, and camera flashes. And you were determined to enjoy it.

That was, until he showed up. Michael Kaiser entered the ballroom like a storm, wrapped in velvet. Dressed in a sleek navy suit that matched his eyes and made every woman in the room turn their heads. But his eyes? They were locked on you.

You saw his jaw tick when he noticed your hand still on Maik’s arm. And just like that, you felt the temperature shift.

—---

“I didn’t realize you were so close with Maik,” Kaiser said, casually sliding next to you at the open bar later, his tone a little too light.

“Didn’t realize it mattered to you,” you replied coldly, sipping your drink.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It doesn’t. Just weird seeing you with someone less talented.”

You raised a brow. “Funny, Maik doesn’t scream at me for not folding his socks or not packing his stuff correctly, when it clearly isnt my duty to do so.”

He stepped closer, crowding your space slightly. “That’s all it takes to impress you?”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Kaiser. In fact it makes you look really ugly”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You’re always jealous.”

He leaned down until his voice was just above a whisper. “Only when it comes to you.”

You blinked. Now it was finally enough. You stood up, thanked the bartender and grabbed the small evening bag delicately decorated with blue crystals. You were just about to go back to Maik, when a hand grabbed your, in satin gloves wrapped, hand.

“Why do you think there was only one room booked in Berlin?”

Your mouth went dry. “What? I don't have time for your games anymore!”

He stared at you, a rare seriousness softening his arrogance. “I booked it like that. Told the staff to say it was a mistake. I wanted you close. Even if I had to pretend it was an accident.”

You stared at him, the full weight of his confession settling on your chest.

“That’s so messed up.”, you looked at him with astonishment and simultaneous horror.

“I know.” He exhaled. “But I didn’t know how else to keep you near me. I didn’t know how to.....to say it.”

“Say what, Michael? Say what? IT'S ENOUGH FOR ME! Can you finally get this into your head? Your arrogance, your selfishness… you're really the last one!”

He hesitated, then looked away—like even he was afraid of what he was about to admit.

“That I want you. That I’ve wanted you. I thought it was just ego. But it’s not. It’s you. I miss the way you’d roll your eyes at me when I bragged. I miss the way you'd edit my clips like you actually saw me, not just the version I pretend to be.”

Your heart beat like thunder in your ears. What was that about? Was he drunk or why did he say something like that?

“And I hated seeing you with someone else tonight...I hate not having you around all the time, let alone the new chick they put by my side instead of you.” he continued, voice raw now. “Because for the first time, you werent there you know.... I realized—I don’t want to just win. I want to win with you.”

There was a pause. Thick. Charged. Real. Then, you scoffed angrily but somewhat softly. “That is the dumbest, most manipulative confession I’ve ever heard. You can't just tell me that you want me when you do the most impossible things to me every day…do you understand that?”

He tilted his head. “But?”

You stepped closer. “But you are stupidly hot in a suit.”

His smirk returned, slow and sinful. “Wanna ditch the party?”

“No, I still have one more dance with Maik,” you said nonchalantly, as if you didn’t care. On the contrary, there was chaos inside. Questions after questions about what he had just said.

He looked at you dumbfounded. Didn't he just express his affection for you? And all you had to say, was about Maik. He became angry. He grabbed a champagne glass and squished himself onto the crowded terrace.

Served him right, you thought as you danced the last dance of the evening in Maik's arms, under the softly glowing light of the chandelier's candles.

The evening was coming to an end and Maik had said goodbye. You were standing all alone, snuggled up in your fluffy evening coat, in front of the ballroom stairs when a butler came towards you. "Miss y/n, your limousine has arrived."

“Which limousine,” you ask, visibly confused. "Mr. Kaiser, she provided it to you and instructed me to bring you safely to the hotel," said the butler stoically. Actually, you didn't want that. But since there was no other way to get home, you had to accept Michael's offer, willy-nilly.

—---

When we arrived at the hotel, we brought you the room key and assured you that your luggage was already waiting for you. When you opened the door, not only was your green suitcase waiting for you, but also Kaiser.

"Oh please don't…that can't be true. Were our bookings put together again?" Pause, then you realized "You! You did that! Just like you did in Berlin", you scolded him.

The hotel room door clicked shut behind you with a soft thud.

Kaiser had tossed his jacket on the chair. His shoulders rose and fell in a slow breath, like he was trying to compose himself.

You didn’t speak yet. Neither did he. The air was thick with everything left unsaid over the past few weeks. The fights. The distance. The heat. Right now it wasn't about your argument anymore. Right now it was about so much more.

But instead of grabbing you like he did earlier—like you half expected—he did something else. He walked to his overnight bag and pulled out a small, black velvet box.

Your heart froze.He turned and held it out without a word.

“What is this?” you asked, slowly stepping forward.

He opened it. Inside sat a thin silver bracelet, delicate but sleek. Not flashy. Not loud. Elegant. And unmistakably you. The words “Mein Liebling” were engraved on the back.

“I saw it before the last away game,” he said, voice quieter than usual. “Was going to give it to you when we won, appreciate your effort you know. But then we fought. And then you left.”

You swallowed hard.

“I didn’t know how to say sorry,” he continued, meeting your eyes. “But I figured maybe this would help.”

You looked at him—really looked at him. For once, he wasn’t performing. No smirk. No bravado. Just Michael.

You stepped forward and took the bracelet, letting your fingers brush his. “Thank you,” you whispered. “It’s…perfect.” So he appreciated it…that blew your mind. Behind his impossible facade, he didn't care. He didn't care about you and this new realization shocked you.

He nodded, jaw tense. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You didn’t?,” you said gently.Something flickered in his eyes—relief, maybe. Or maybe it was desire. You weren’t sure anymore, not when his hand suddenly found your hip.

“You drive me insane,” he murmured, voice low, his forehead against yours now.

“Likewise.”

You began to kiss him. Slow, deliberate. His lips tasted faintly of wine and apology. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. There was no hesitation now—just months of tension finally snapping in place like a stretched rubber band.

Clothes came off in between kisses and muttered swears in German, his voice husky as he murmured your name against your neck, like it was sacred.

He lifted you gently, laying you back on the bed with surprising care for someone so cocky. “You sure?” he asked, hovering over you, gaze intense.

You nodded, whispering, “I’ve never been more sure.”

And then his mouth was on yours again, hands exploring, memorizing. He was confident, yes—but with you, he was present. Every touch was slow. Every glance meaningful. The passion wasn’t just heat—it was release. From all the frustration, all the miscommunication, all the bottled-up feelings neither of you dared speak aloud.

Later, when you were curled up beside him, wrapped in the sheets, he traced lazy circles on your back with his fingertips.

“Promise me something,” he said quietly.

“What?”

“If I ever act like an idiot again—”

You raised a brow. “When.”

He chuckled. “Fine. When. Just remind me how it feels to have you not beside me and how it feels when you forgive me.”

You grinned sleepily. “You really are the worst.”

“And yet…” he kissed your shoulder, smirking against your skin, “you’re still in my bed.”

You buried your face into his chest, laughing softly. “Shut up, Kaiser.”

“I’ll try,” he murmured, holding you tighter, “but only because I really don’t want to ruin this. I dont want to see again from the sidelines, what I could have had”

[withered-blossoms]

Not Today, Solomon!

Also titled: Pastries and Chaos

CHARACTERS: Beel, Satan, Luke (strictly platonic), Simeon

Ingredients mentioned from the recipe by: “Heart-Shaped Cookies” by Mari on allrecipes

Recipe link: https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/278152/heart-shaped-cookies/

Dividers by @cafekitsune

A/N: This fic is completely SFW and is my part for the 2025 Valentine's event held by @obeymevents. I’m collaborating with the artist @sheepthatgobaa.

this fic could be either romantic or platonic. Except Luke, who's part is strictly platonic.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Main Masterlist

“This soup is delicious, y’all should try some. Hey, could you pass me the salt? Wait why are you trying to pass Levi– was he one-upped in game again? Please don’t actually yeet him across the table –”

“~OH I’M A GUMMY BEAR, YES I’M A GUMMY BEAR~”

“What in the skibidi toilet is that caveman music –”

 “Oh wait, I have a call to answer, gimme a sec. Also, I ain’t hearing it from someone born in the Ice Age.”

“Does anyone need some ice for that burn?”

“I think we all do.”

“Ahem. MC, no phones are allowed during dinner.”

“Sorry, I forgot to take it out of my pocket. I won’t do it next time boss man, so please let me off the hook this time.”

A begrudging wave of the gloved hand was more than enough for the call to be answered in your room. Matching your steps to the catchy beat of the music, you pulled the device out of their pocket and glanced at the caller ID.

‘Sussy boom shaka laka.’

A raised eyebrow was all your DDD got in return. Solomon does not usually call, preferring to stick to texting, much less at such an hour. The reason behind the call certainly does intrigue one, and knowing our chaos-loving sheep, you just had to pick up and find out what flames you will be fanning this time.

Unbeknownst to you, dinner ended earlier than expected. Thankfully, your leftovers were kept by a certain sweetheart who took it upon himself to deliver it to you. Beelzebub couldn’t help it; he did not want the human to go hungry. After allowing his hands to swipe a few bags of snacks for sharing, his feet led him to your room and that was how the information made its way to our resident sweetheart.

“Hey Monsolo, what’s up?”

Hold his food. Solomon was calling? Was there something up? 

“Yeah, I’d love to come over and help! Baking with you does not sound half-bad.” You had joked, but your mirthful laughter sounded more like alarm bells in Beel’s head.

Were you out of your mind? Don’t get him wrong now, he trusts your culinary skills with every fibre of his being. But the other human? Not so much. Besides, with Solomon’s skills, you would not even know if he had steered the recipe in the direction he wanted. Just thinking about you becoming Solomon’s guinea pig gave him goosebumps; he wanted you alive and well, not turned into another species, literally or figuratively!

Nope. Sorry darling, but not on his watch.

But he wasn’t one to be rash or jump into conclusions. So, the ginger stood there, resisting the urge to munch on the chips he had for fear of disturbing you and outing himself. The others passing him by only gave a few curious glances, but knew better than to disturb their second youngest when he was so deep in contemplation.

After all, curiosity kills the cat. But there will always be that one cat who is not afraid of finding out the truth.

That cat also happened to have an amount of stealth complimentary to his curiosity.

“Why are you standing there? Are they not finished with their phone call yet?”

Fiery locks smacked Satan in the face and he spluttered indignantly. If it weren’t for the sincere apology on Beel’s face and your ongoing phone call, he probably would have chided his brother. But then again, he was somewhat at fault as well, so the annoyance was reduced to a subtle eye-twitch.

Unfortunately, the commotion seemed to have caught your attention. You knew the brothers would prevent you from going to Purgatory Hall if they found out Solomon’s invitation, even more-so when it was for Valentine’s Day. With a few hasty agreements to the date and time, you ended the phone call and swung open your door, quirking an eyebrow at the duo before you.

A few awkward moments of silence passed before Satan coughed into his fist. “We were worried that you would feel hungry later, so Beel brought you your leftovers and some snacks.” A nudge snapped Beel out of his worry and the taller of the two nodded, handing you the plate. “Hunger is neither a comfortable nor good feeling. If you are still hungry after dinner, feel free to have some of the snack I brought.”

You did not know just how much of the conversation they heard, but judging from the nonchalant stares you were getting, they most likely missed the whole thing.

Thank the high heavens– oh wait, wrong place. Oops.

Either way, as much as you loved chaos, you’ve already had your dosage for today. If peace was to be delivered to you on a silver platter as it was right now, you’d take it. But seeing how they declined entering your room, they probably knew a thing or two.

Oh well. Considering the fact that the two aren’t freaking out, they probably don’t know much. It seems that your secret hangout was, well, still a secret. You’d take any chance to hang out with the Purgatory Hall gang you got; it’s been a long time since y’all gathered after all (without the others, that is).

On the other end of the line, Luke was huffing at Solomon. The dear had planned on inviting you to a baking session on Valentine’s Day, hoping to spend more time with you and give you a special batch. He even had the details planned to a tee! All he had to do now was ask, but he needed to phrase it in a way that would keep the surprise a secret. Then a certain sorcerer just had to waltz in and ‘coincidentally’ overhear him practising his lines, which led to the conversation above.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

“Easy for you to say! I was about to invite them.”

The gall of him to ruffle Luke’s hair after taking his credit. Despite the annoyance in his voice, Solomon knew that the child was not furious, just a little miffed. He doesn’t want to face a mini-Simeon.

And this is why you should only mess around with angels, kids. They are forgiving enough to not detonate in your face. /j

A certain blonde sneezed. The cat in his arms jumped slightly but was quickly soothed.

Disclaimer: For legal reasons though, please do not mess around with anyone, regardless of their species. Solomon would say otherwise, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

At least the cat was not out of the bag yet, and that was more than enough for Luke. He knew that Solomon had no malicious intentions, but it does not change the fact that he had entered the kitchen.

There was no way Luke was going to let this kitchen terror (affectionate) bake with him.

“Didn’t you say you had a gift to prepare? Tomorrow’s Valentine Day, it would not be good if it wasn’t prepared in time.”

As if Peepaw™ couldn’t see through his attempts to chase him out. “Of course I have one for my adorable apprentice. Now that you mentioned it, it does need some finishing touches. Be careful when baking, Luke.” The last thing Luke saw was his cape disappearing into the corner, and a sigh of relief sounded through the kitchen.

“Thank the high heavens…. Ah I have to prepare MC’s cookies!”

Back at the House of Lamentation, the most unlikely duo was holding a meeting to preserve your tastebuds and probably your life. It was not often that the fourth and sixth hold meetings, but all bets are completely off when the resident sheep was involved.

“I didn’t manage to get the time, though the destination is undoubtedly Purgatory Hall.”

“It matters not. All we have to do is to infiltrate the enemy base earlier. Think you can get up?”

“Of course. Anything to save MC.”

Enjoy the rest of your day, dear little sheep. You’ll need all the peace you can get before the big day.

The hours passed by and eventually, the ringing of an alarm clock sliced through the silence in Purgatory Hall. The rustle of bedsheet was followed by the pitter patter of feet, a sweet angel child eager to prepare his gift. In another room, his guardian had also woken up due to his superb hearing and wanted to know what Luke was up to. Luke is by no means a late riser, but it was still rather rare for him to wake up at the crack of dawn. Curiosity decreed that he was not to leave the waking world, so the brunette could only get ready for the day.

In a short while, the ingredients were fully prepped. “White sugar, unsalted butter…egg, vanilla extract… that should be all. I’ll preheat the oven.”

“Is that for MC?”

“What– Simeon, you startled me!”

“My bad, shall I give you a hand? I know you’ve taken time into consideration, but if you need help, I’ll be happy to lend a hand.”

Luke shook his head, “Thank you for the offer, but I wish to bake these personally.” He knew Simeon would understand; these were for a certain chaos-loving sheep after all. Besides, Simeon had already planned on watching from the sidelines, having prepared his own presents. He was rather content with watching Luke flit about the kitchen, not getting to witness the child in his element very often, mostly due to how busy he himself was or because he’d usually have a hand in the process.

But what they weren’t prepared for was the appearance of an unexpected demon duo.

You see, Satan had slept surprisingly early the previous night, allowing him to wake up as planned. Beel, on the other hand, was a morning demon who loved his morning jogs. Once each had gotten ready and eaten breakfast, they set off to prevent a tragedy from befalling your tastebuds.

‘MC’s tastebuds rescue mission’ was in order, which was also why the angels were thankful for their strong hearts.

“Dear heavens above, it’s one surprise after another today.”

“Why are you two even here at this time???? And leave my batter alone!”

“Sorry. It smells really good.”

“Apologies for the sudden appearance, but we have to save MC’s tongue. Where’s Solomon anyway?”

“He’s still asleep thankfully, but what was that about MC’s tongue?”

Satan took up the job of explaining how they had overheard Solomon inviting MC over for a baking session and was worried that he’d have unrestricted access to the kitchen. As strong as you and your immune system were, they’d rather not subject you to weird experiments.

Simeon was now in charge of passing Beel some extra pastries they had so that Luke could bake in peace. “I see, no wonder you were both in such a hurry to get here. However, worry not, either Luke or I will be around to provide some assistance (read: surveillance) should the need arise.” The ginger had taken them gratefully, knowing how important the cookies being prepared were to Luke just from their shapes alone.

The younger angel had taken to using heart-shape cutters, his precision and skills shining through even more for this special batch. Even with Simeon with him, he knew he had to speed the process up. It was not known how long the other pastries could keep Beel satisfied, and he doubted that the stock of the local 24-hour eateries could last long either.

If Luke was previously a somewhat fast baker, Simeon was now sure that Luke had broken the three realm’s record. Even for an angel and two demons, it was now rather dizzying to watch the sweet child do his thing. So, the other three settled for some idle chat and ordering takeout instead.

It was not long before a pleasant smell wafted through the kitchen and a growl resounded. Despite the takeout laid out on the dining table, Luke hurried to pack your cookies away and prepared the other ingredients needed for your baking session later. There were also pastries he’d prepared in advance for today’s hangout, though he’d take those out when your arrival draws near.

Thankfully, they had enough leftovers to last till the takeout was delivered. The food was quickly finished, even more so since Satan grabbed a few bites. As large as the order was, with his otherworldly digestive abilities, Beel was soon hungry. Looking at the various other pastries laid out on the table, he could not help but want a few.

Yours happened to look the most appetising.

Luke was rather firm about keeping your cookies for you and you only, but his resolve quickly crumbled when Beel's puppy eyes landed on him. He couldn’t bear to see such a guilt-ridden expression on his… friend’s face, not when Beel had been rather kind to him. It started off as one cookie, then the second and third. Luke was thankful that he had the hindsight to bake a few extra, but that was about it. He really had to leave some for you, or his efforts would go to waste.

The seconds ticked by as the friendly stare-down between Luke and Beel continued. With no intention to harm Luke in a hunger-induced frenzy, Beel easily reached over Luke, hoping to have some of the others. Luke hurried to bring the pastries away, huffing in disbelief. How dare they take advantage of his height? He is still growing and he’ll be taller than all of them one day for sure!

Satan tried guiding Beel away with a hand on his shoulder. “Beel, MC is almost here. We should hurry before they discover us.” Simeon nodded in agreement, the hand behind his back gently ushering Luke towards the refrigerator, “It wouldn’t do for MC to find out that you’ve overheard their phone call. Intentionally or not, it would still appear rude.”

“I think it’s already too late for that.”

“Solomon! Don’t scare us like that!”

“I’m hungry…”

“What do you mean too late?”

“I don’t see MC anywhere–”

“Ara ara what do we have here? Good morning peeps. Will you be baking with us as well, Luke? Looking at those cookies make me hungry…”

“Good morning MC! As you can see, most were already prepared in advance, though there is still one last batch to be baked. Solomon will be in charge of uh… supervising!”

“What a shame. I was hoping to show MC the new recipe I had acquired lately.”

“Worry not. No one does supervision better than you. Right, Beel?” Satan nudged his younger brother who nodded and tried to reach for another cookie. “Yeah, you’ve got the most skills when it comes to that.”

“Are the both of you calling me a stalker? Also, leave some for us please.”

“We never said that.”

“Sure thing. Also, we weren’t.”

Simeon chuckled. Everyone was the same as always and that puts his mind at ease. “MC does not have much experience baking here. It will be best to have someone familiar watch over them just in case I have to go out.” Solomon gave himself a second to think and agreed with Simeon’s plan. Someone’s gotta watch over his adorable apprentice and he’d rather not lose such a valuable taste-tester– he meant friend.

Of course. Leave it to the gorgeous, breathtaking, stunning, jaw-dropping, head-turning (sorry I’ll stop now) Simeon to have the beauty and brains to boot.

Meanwhile, Luke was trying to stop Beel from unconsciously consuming the raw ingredients (again). No food poisoning cases for today, please. It does not matter how strong Beel physically was, Luke did not want to have to call the medical services.

Satan was helping him hold the ginger back and ordering more takeout.

Solomon was watching them as if they were some sort of comedy show.

Simeon was sighing and mitigating the situation as always.

You?

You were metaphorically offering Solomon some popcorn. “Like master, like apprentice,” they said. It probably would not be long till the brothers and consequently the palace residents were lured over too.

You were definitely going to enjoy today.

[mochacoda]

[teaser] night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5K (full)

Release Date: February 9 -> RELEASED HERE

Masterlist

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you‘ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food. 

But despite his chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events. 

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days. 

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. 

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends. 

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner. 

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to. 

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. 

“치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand. 

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 옷을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance. 

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie. 

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down. 

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course. 

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now. 

“I’m not letting go.” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face. 

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture. 

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch, like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours. 

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme. 

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings? 

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke? 

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive? 

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together. 

You expect him to crush your heart. 

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful.

Masterlist

Author's Note: now RELEASED HERE for all the singles who need a big literary hug this valentines week

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone

[missmilkie]

Play Nice

Satoru Gojo x fem!sorcerer!reader

warnings: sexual tension, brief argument, Gojo using pet names, god awful flirting, sub! Gojo, virgin! Gojo, semi public, riding, p in v, teasing, unprotected, squirting, creampie, supporting men’s right to shut the fuck up

wc: 1.7k

This could not be happening. There was no way that his mission and yours went hand in hand. God hates you.

“I’m afraid so, sweetheart. You’ll have to play nice with me~”

You could feel a headache coming on from that perfect, dimpled smile of his, so you sent him a bombastic side eye.

“You and I both know you don’t need it.”

“Wouldn’t cost ya a thing.”

“You’re right, only my dignity and self respect.”

Satoru was in your space but didn’t touch you.

“Ouch. You’re still rude as ever.”

“I don’t care, let’s get started. The sooner we get this over with, the better.” You patted yourself down to check for your cursed tools and equipment. He couldn’t help how he blushed at your dismissive attitude, not that you noticed.

“Always in such a hurry. Slow down.” He ran a hand through his hair, still so attractive despite how much he can be to handle.

That was five minutes before disaster. Now it’s three hours afterwards. That’s how long you were lectured for.

“Don’t take it too seriously.” He waved it off like it was nothing. Like he did with everything. Everything seemed to be just a suggestion to him.

“Could you be responsible and held accountable for once in your life?”

His eyes widened slightly under the blindfold. Satoru liked to mess with you, but he’s never seen you this upset. He didn’t let his surprise show, keeping up his childish facade.

“What’s with the hostility?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that this is your fault, and you don’t even seem to care.”

“What makes you say that? Last I checked, you were there too.” He kept his voice light, his default for when he wasn’t sure how to act.

“If it hadn’t been for your carelessness, we wouldn’t have to get yelled at about how to do our job properly.”

“We still completed the mission, and that’s all that matters on paperwork, honey.” Satoru softened his voice in an attempt to come off somewhat sympathetic. Of course, that’s not how you took it. You misunderstood like everyone else did.

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re too tense.”

“You’re not helping.” You shot him another piercing glare.

“You won’t let me.”

You hurt your neck with how fast you turned your head. Was he really calling you out right now?

“What the fuck?!”

“What? Your mind in the gutter?”

Your face flushed hotly in annoyance and embarrassment. The audacity of this man.

“Not even close! I’d rather get my brain fried by your domain.”

“I don’t need my domain to make you go stupid~”

You schooled your expression so as to not reveal your true thoughts when he pulled his blindfold up off of his eyes. Satoru had a handsome face and snowy lashes that could make any woman jealous. His bright blue eyes were almost otherworldly, and it was easy to forget that Satoru was human. The strongest sorcerer was still just a man.

“It’s your mind that’s in the gutter.”

“Don’t act like it’s just me.”

Satoru may act a fool, but you knew there was a genius underneath it all. An evil genius, but still a genius.

“Fuck you.”

“Right here?”

“That’s not fucking funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

Satoru grabs you by the chin and looks into your eyes for permission before he pulls you into a kiss. It’s overbearing at first because he’s being annoying. He’s rubbing in the fact that you’re kissing him of all people. But then he softens his movements to better enjoy how sweet you taste. His lips were infuriatingly soft. Of course this son of a bitch had soft lips. You sank your teeth into his bottom lip just enough to sting, and Satoru lets out a whimper. You just made the strongest sorcerer whimper. Maybe there was a way to shut him up as payback for how annoying he’s been over the years. At the very least, trying would be fun. There was no way you could back down now.

You force him to sit down in the long empty lounge, straddling his thighs. Satoru couldn’t keep his hands off you, squeezing as much ass as he could fit in his enormous palms. It was as if he’d never touched a woman before, all awe and reverence as he traced the contours of your body. Neither of you let up on the intensity of this. The tension that constantly stalked you two was finally finding release.

Heavy breaths and soft moans are only louder in the silence of the room. The layers of clothing between you making movements slow. You nearly clawed his high collar down his neck.

“Shit, you’re more fiery than I thought~”

Before you could say anything, Satoru teleported the both of you out of the lounge at jujutsu tech. He had taken you to a bedroom. His?

“Where are we?”

“My place. I figured we shouldn’t continue our business in the lounge~”

You flushed at the thought of someone walking in on you two. Embarrassing!

Satoru got your attention by holding you by the hips and thrusting up at the apex between your thighs.

“But we’re safe here, where no one can see.”

“Right.”

You lean in for another kiss, the borders between you two melting. The flow may have been interrupted, but the desire was still there. Satoru’s hands were all over, palming your body and tugging at your clothes. You help him with removing them until you’re both naked.

“You’re such a tease.” You rub your slippery lips along his length, coating him in slick.

“Coming from you…” Satoru struggled to keep his tone even.

“Who kissed who first again? That slut.”

The blindfolded sorcerer felt his heart rate spike.

“It’s rude to keep someone waiting.”

“And it’s pathetic to be so desperate.” You grab his face, looking straight into the several flecks of blue that composed his eyes.

This was why he wanted you so bad. Your sharp comebacks always made his cock twitch. No matter how annoying he was, you didn’t walk away. It made him feel a little less alone when you indulged him, even if y’all were beefing. Was that toxic? Don’t know, don’t care.

You let his tip catch your hole, starting to guide him in. Satoru failed to hold back the pornographic moan prompted by your pussy sucking him in. You take your time working your way down; Satoru wasn’t small. And you’d be damned if you let him see how much he affected you.

The man himself felt euphoric with your walls squeezing around his sensitive shaft. He thought he might break once you finally reached the hilt. You barely give him a moment before starting a mean pace.

The sounds of your ass and thighs meeting his pelvis was unintentionally loud, but it turned him on so much. Satoru moaned out with his head back, pulling your hips down to his.

He had spent his entire life in the world of jujutsu, and never had the time to lose his virginity. Satoru would never admit it, but shit, he’d never felt more cooked in his life. All he could do was try not to cum too fast.

Meanwhile you were fucking yourself on his cock, seeing which angles he could hit. Your walls always sucked him back in, and it was so hot ti watch. Satoru had to close his eyes at one point to keep from finishing.

“Mm~ so good t’me…”

He couldn’t keep from babbling so pathetically about how good you made him feel. Stuttering and repeating himself as he got lost in the feeling of your cunt. You just kept putting it on him like you had bills to pay. Shit, he probably could pay your bills.

You leaned down to kiss up his neck. The higher you went, the more of a reaction he had. Right below his ears had him whining. Satoru Gojo was so much more tolerable when he wasn’t speaking. Maybe you should do this more often, shut him up when he’s doing too much.

The sorcerer felt a chill run down his spine as if sensing your hazy, lust filled musings. He had a feeling he might not make it out of this alive. The strongest sorcerer had met his match.

“Please -oh fuckk- Can’t take an’more~” tears gathered in his baby blues, wetting his lashes like sticky snow.

“You’re gonna hafta beg better than that. C’mon, work for it, Gojo~” you teased.

Satoru felt his heart rate spike at your demand. He was still too horny to be embarrassed about it.

“Please~ baby… I’m gonna lose it.”

He twitched wildly inside you, sensitive from holding back this entire time. You continued to milk his cock with every swivel of your hips. You were getting close yourself with how you were impaling yourself with his cock. Muscle spasms had you squeezing around his cock every so often, an involuntary response. His long fingers were splayed on your hips, digging in with his short, manicured nails. Of course this diva got manicures.

You were both so far gone, possessed by your mutual desire for each other.

“Go ‘head and cum for me, yeah?” You whispered while kissing below his ear.

Satoru stiffened, having almost gone off the edge right then. But he needed to feel you cum too. How tight would you squeeze him then? He couldn’t help how he was practically drooling.

You slammed your hips down on him to hit your sweet spot over and over. It was deep, but he could reach and it felt amazing.

“Shit- (Y/n)~”

“Shut up~”

A sinful moan left your mouth when you climaxed. It had Satoru’s balls emptying themselves as he held your hips flush against his.

“Ohmygod~ fuck…” Satoru’s big blue eyes rolled back. You squeezed him like a vice!

A mixture of your fluids and his semen dripped down his body and soaked the sheets below him. His body still twitched with the aftershocks of pleasure.

He was too fucked out to talk after that, settling for cuddling you as he dozed off. Yeah, you definitely had to shut him up more often.

[ryuzakemo128]

When In Rome

Pairing: General Marcus Acasius x Albino! Female Reader

Content Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Female reader is albino with crimson red eyes, Mild Violence, Some Language, might be somewhat historically inaccurate. Reader has a fear of change.

Word Count: 1653

Summary: Then. Then you got a letter from the man himself. Things weren’t nearly as easily denied or forgotten anymore.

At first you were certain your parents were joking or at least trying to. You didn’t think they were remotely serious about this kind of thing. You were sure you would live in the countryside for the rest of your life. You weren’t scared of dying out there and it was comforting to know that you died somewhere you preferred to be.

Then. Then you got a letter from the man himself. Things weren’t nearly as easily denied or forgotten anymore. He was certainly straightforward in his self-introduction. But you are sure most men in this day and age are somewhat self-assured.

It felt foreign to feel this afraid. This kind of fear. You felt rather small hunted by wolves from all angles of your life. You were certain of things before. Now? Not so much.

You wrote him a letter to dissuade him from the temptation of perusing the arranged marriage between you both. Determined to keep your life as solitary as you possibly could. You had your loom, your three felines, your fruit trees, and your flower garden. Content with the simplicity of the countryside and the long quiet.

You didn’t understand how people could be so confused as to why you chose the countryside, far away from the large cities of the Roman Empire. The only time you ever went into the larger cities is to get things like more thread for your loom, perhaps a new pot or two, and supplies for your garden. The quietness of the countryside is your sanctum, a place where you can truly think and live. The only sounds that break the silence are the chirping of the birds, the rustling of the leaves, and the occasional meow from your three cats.

You’ve named them after the Muses from Roman mythology—Calliope, Clio, and Euterpe. They are your companions in solitude, and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

You were attending a ‘feast’ or something rather important with your parents. Who decided years ago that living in the city was far more beneficial for them. You weren’t ever keen on that particular decision of theirs. But you never commented on it, either. Lest you hear insistent nagging on how they viewed the countryside as some kind of sign of stagnation.

As you were bathing, you wondered if it would be enough to wear something to make sure you remained inside the depths of the shadows. You weren’t sure how your mother might see that, either. As you were too tired to deal with her complaints about how you loved to dress. You still don’t see her love for the colour of Emerald green. No matter how many times she tells you.

“It’ll grow on you, I’m sure of it.” She would tell you, and all you would give her in response is a look of ‘I don’t think we like the same things, mother’.

“Are you sure I can’t just wear blue like I normally would?” you asked, inquiring as to why she had chosen green when it never seemed to suit you. At least, you never thought it did. “I’m sure Midnight blue would better? I wouldn’t know.”

You didn’t discuss it further and scurried off to continue her bathing alone. You didn't read into the meanings of colour, and you didn't think much of it either. Likewise, you had an approach, 'live and let live'. If you died tomorrow, you would die tomorrow. This mindset often clashed with your mother's.

As you were in your bedchambers, brushing your hair with a simplistic ivory and bone comb. It was enough to keep your hair neat, tidy and only somewhat presentable. As you placed the white power on your skin to even out your complexion using the white chalk and rice you crushed days ago. As you were putting kohl eyeliner around your eyes along her lash line. The dark pigment made her crimson coloured stand out further.

Your mother walked into your chambers as you were wondering what else to put onto your face. Your tortoise shell feline relaxing on your bed. The Deep blue linen stola you have chosen to wear, made from the woollen linen fabric you have personally woven with your loom in the countryside.

You were still uncertain if you needed to take your crimson red hood to block out the sunlight. Though, you hope you would not be in direct sunlight. You didn’t hear your mother walk in while you were also thinking about how to do your hair too.

Your other two cats were North African Wildcats brought into your home. You didn’t mind the fact they followed you, and the fact your mother didn’t know what to make of them, which still continues to amuse you.

You were braiding your using leather cord to then adorn with delicate sapphires at the base of the braid. The crimson earrings you have selected to wear dangling slightly as you worked. You were about to leave when your mother spoke up, her voice echoing off the marble walls of the chamber.

You smelt her floral perfume long before you heard her voice, overpowering your subtle lavender and lilies.

“You do know that he's a general, don't you?” Your mother's voice was a gentle scold, but you knew she was just as nervous as you. “The least you could do is put some effort into your appearance.”

You pointed to the sapphires you were adding to your braid. “I haven't added colour to the cheeks yet.” you remarked, looking up at her.

Your mother saw you have chosen for a soft tone of pink to give life to your cheeks. But you were stumped on what to put on your lips. You have already added crimson Scarlett to your eyelids.

Your mother looked at the pink you have picked for your cheeks. “Does it clash as much I think it does?” you asked. “I already placed red on the eyelids and the lips.”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she took a step closer to inspect your handiwork. After a moment of scrutinising, she nodded. “No, it does not. But perhaps, a touch of coral on the lips might do?” she suggested.

You added touches of coral to your lips. The mix of red and coral made a combination of a sunset kissed by a rose. You weren’t sure if it was suitable for the occasion, but it felt natural to you. The reflection in the mirror showed a stark contrast between your stark white skin, crimson eyes, and the soft pink and coral accents.

When the feast began in full swing, you were more or less concentrated on eating things you normally didn’t have in the countryside. The aromas of roasting meats and spiced wines wafted through the grand hall, a stark contrast to the smell of freshly turned earth and blooming flowers you were accustomed to. You were eating when he found you, for the most part you were going towards roasted meats you don't have too often like pheasant, boar, and venison.

You were deeply engrossed in the roasted meat, much to his amusement. His deep, authoritative voice was the first indication that he had arrived. “Your appetite does you credit, my lady,” he said, his words dripping with a hint of humour that made you feel at ease.

“I am drawn to food more than the people. Especially cheese.” you stated honestly. “As for the engagement if there is one, that letter is a simple message of clarity of my intent. I do not wish to insult you or your character. But I do wish to implore you to think about whether you think it is a viable route to pursue.”

General Marcus Acasius leaned against the marble column, his muscular arms folded across his broad chest, the fabric of his red paludamentum—his military cloak—rustling softly with his movement. His piercing blue eyes studied you, and for a moment, you felt like a doe caught in the gaze of a cunning wolf.

“Your honesty is refreshing,” he replied, his voice filled with an unexpected warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. “But it does not change the fact that the Emperor himself has arranged this union. It is not merely a matter of our own desires.”

You paused your eating, frowning deeply, your mother nor your father hadn't told you this part, “Odd, my parents did not.... include that part.” you remarked. “I am afraid you have captured my curiosity. I do wonder what he hopes to gain from it. The countryside isn't exactly lively with activity.”

The general's gaze softened a bit, his lips curling upwards into a slight smirk. “I suspect the emperor sees potential in an alliance with your family, and perhaps, in the quiet strength that you possess.” He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “But that is not for us to question, is it?”

“Not in polite company, as my mother would love to put it.” you remarked. “Though she will take the apples I send her.”

You still don’t know what to make of this General by the end of the feast. Even as he spoke to your father towards the end. You were cleaning off the makeup and changing into something far more comfortable for bed. You would be scouring the marketplace for more woollen thread to weave on your loom, baskets for your fruits and vegetables, and perhaps a few more seeds for your garden.

As you fell asleep surrounded by your three felines. You were certain whatever came next would shake the foundation of understanding you hope to cling onto. But somehow, you don’t feel nearly as frightened of change as you used to be. As if your mindset prepared you for this all along.

At first you were certain your parents were joking or at least trying to.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics + @cafekitsune

Masterlist

[ghostcreaturetypething]

As previously mentioned, I am still very early in terms of supernatural seasons. As such, Dean has only died twice thus far; first in season 1 episode 12, Faith, and second in season 2, episode 1, In My Time of Dying. Both episodes are phenomenal and I enjoyed them very much, but they are also, somewhat surprisingly, incredibly different. This difference felt important to me, and predictably I ended up wanting to talk about. However, most regrettably, I do not yet actually have anyone in my actual life who watches or even knows what Supernatural is, so I am afraid for now, you all are stuck with me and my incomprehensible thoughts.

First and foremost: Faith. In this episode, as I’ve already discussed, Dean seems very resigned to his fate very quickly. It’s Sam who is the driving force behind saving him, Sam who flat-out refuses to give up on his brother even while Dean is behaving as though his death is inevitable from the very beginning. In this episode Dean is also behaving in a way that is, for lack of a better adjective, very Dean. He’s matter-of-fact about the situation, he’s evasive about any feelings he might have about it, and he’s making jokes the whole time, playing up that ‘I laugh in the face of death’ attitude that Sam hates. This behaviour is, in my opinion, an attempt to cover up all the sadness and fear and anger he’s really feeling, to try and protect Sam and stop him from feeling guilty when his attempts to save his big brother inevitably fail, and he continues with it for almost the entire time he’s actively dying. Dean is also acting quite deliberately belligerent, and I have a theory about the reasons for this that I’m breaking my own heart with. Now — and I am trusting the Superwholockers to come through for this one — do you remember, in The Final Problem, when Euros is trying to force Sherlock to shoot either John or Mycroft, and Mycroft is saying all of these awful things about John, being shockingly callous and scathing about Sherlock’s best friend — until Sherlock, thank god, sees straight through him and explains to John that he’s actually being kind by deliberately trying to make Sherlock angry so that it becomes easier for his little brother to kill him. Well. And I am so sorry for this. I think, in Faith, Dean is attempting to do something similar. At the very least, his attitude is a way to distract Sam from his worry and sadness; at most, this sweet idiot is actually trying to piss Sam off to the extent that Sam is then less sad when Dean dies. Admittedly, if this is the case, Dean’s attempt is quite half-hearted; he’s trying his best, but as I said, he is dying. He’s exhausted, he’s in pain, and he’s scared. Nevertheless, he manages to keep it up pretty consistently, except for one specific moment that absolutely kills me: when he turns up in Sam’s motel room and Sam gives him shit about “this whole… ‘I laugh in the face of death’ thing”, and tells him “It’s crap, I can see right through it”…Dean doesn’t even argue with him. He nods and says, “Yeah, whatever dude” and moves on. I think this moment, more than anything else, more than Dean wincing and leaning on things and looking like a corpse, shows just how wrecked he is. Enough to let the mask fall for a moment, too tired to try and reassure his little brother or even brush it off with a joke. And, just, fuck. Now; I’ve talked about this episode before. We know how it ends. We know that despite all of Dean’s pessimism, Sam really does save him, with relatively little effort and impressively little doubt on his part. So, this series of events is now the context for Dean’s second near-death experience in In My Time of Dying, which, as a result of them, goes very differently.

So. Very first episode of the second season. For the second time in his life, Dean is dying. He has been untethered from his body and he is wandering around the hospital like a ghost. Sam can’t see him. John can’t see him. He is, for much of it, effectively alone. But despite this, despite not having to protect Sam from his own death this time, Dean doesn’t break down. He doesn’t let the mask slip, he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t despair. Even when he is completely un-perceived and therefore free to express his emotions however he likes, he still has his brave face on. The curtain’s down, sweetheart, why are you still performing and all that, but of course he is, he’s Dean. Evidence for his real feelings, I think, lies in the way he keeps repeating himself when he talks to Sam. Not word for word, but the sentiment is always the same: “I’m waking up”, “I’ll be fine”, “I’m not going anywhere”. And then, near the end with the reaper, even when it seems sure that he cannot escape her: “I’m not going with you.” He’s trying to convince himself more than anyone else, who mostly can’t hear him anyway. He is scared, of course he is. But in a very different way to how he was in Faith. It is always ‘I am’, ‘I will’, after all. Very confident phrasing, just like how Sam told him “I’m not gonna let you die” in Faith. Dean is mirroring him. In the absence of the direct support of his little brother, he’s supporting himself. But in Faith, I got the sense that he was mainly putting on a brave face for Sammy, as opposed to pushing the fear down so he could actually be proactive about the situation. Do you see what I mean? And this brings us to what I think is the main difference between the death’s: This time, Dean is fighting it. He doesn’t want to die, and he believes he has a choice in the matter, in complete opposition to how he felt in Faith. And I think this is because of Sam. Sam proved to him that he didn’t have to die, even when he was sure he had no choice, and now, eleven episodes later, Dean is fighting for himself just as hard as Sam fought for him the first time. And that, everybody, is what we call CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. Right from the beginning he’s pushing to survive this — “Screw you doc, I’m waking up!” — despite the doctors saying otherwise, and neither he nor Sam having any evidence that it’s even likely. He is then very quick to turn to Sam for help — “Come on, Sam. Go find some hoodoo priest an’ lay some mojo on me, I’ll be fine” — but of course he is. Sam saved him last time, completely single-handedly. If Dean doubted him at all before, he doesn’t now. If he hesitated in entrusting his life to the hands of his little brother before, there is no thought of that now.

In comparison, Sam himself — well. Sam is having a more difficult time than he did the first time around. For good reason. Poor Sam has had a very rough few days; he got strangled by a demon-possesed civilian who was then shot off the top of him, the demon the Winchester’s have all been hunting for the whole first season has just slipped out from under all of their noses, he survived a brutal car crash, and now the person who, as he made clear in Devil’s Trap, means more to him than anyone and anything else, is dying in a hospital bed. Again. If anyone deserves to be cut some slack, its Sam Winchester. But another reason for the difference in Sam’s behaviour is, I think, the absence of Dean. Before, in Faith, Dean was at least awake — tired and grumpy as well as completely unsupportive and unhelpful, but there. Present. Contactable. Solid. Now, he’s comatose in a hospital bed, hooked up to all manner of tubes and wires and looking so much more fragile than before, and that is very difficult for Sam, I think. Dean is his older brother. He’s always been there, for Sam’s whole life. As Sam said in Salvation: “even when I couldn’t count on anyone I could always count on you.” And it’s true. Now, unable to even talk to his brother, things feel a lot harder. Little siblings are like that. They don’t often need you, per se, but they do come to depend on the fact that you’re always just sort of there. And now Dean isn’t there. For the first time in Sam’s life, his big brother has gone somewhere he cannot reach, and Sam — strong, brave, capable Sam — I think he panics a bit. Cue him yelling at John in one of my all-time favourite scenes thus far, which then brings us to the next point: when Sam and John are having said shouting match, Dean gets upset. I find this very interesting. After all, everything Sam says is completely valid based on what we know about John at this point. Hell, Dean even said similar things when John was sitting by his bedside. But as soon as Sam starts to get angry, as soon as his family begins to argue, he can’t stand it, to the point that it is then that he figures out he can move things in his disembodied state — smashing the glass of water on floor. This is a perfect example of one of the things that I love most about Dean: despite his belligerence, despite his devil-may-care attitude, he is completely family-focused. He loves them more than anything, and when faced with the prospect of literally dying — with being snuffed out, transported to some unknown state and leaving his whole life behind — his family is all he can think about. How his leaving would put them in danger, put Sam in danger. And so he fights harder, tries to find a way around the most inevitable inevitability there is. The chances are, however, that if John had not intervened — it would all have been for naught. No matter how badly he wanted to live, to stay with his family, Dean would have died and left them all the same. But so it was the first time, so it has been every time for as long as life has existed. The important thing is not the end. It is not the futility of it all. It is the fact that, this time, Dean fought to stay alive. He wanted to live. For his family, because of his family, but also — just a little — for himself. And I think that’s wonderful.