#and it turns out. they are indeed a wc fan

[mugzymiik]

one of the easiest methods to figure out if somebody most likely is/was a warrior cat fan is by looking at their cat ocs

if one or more of them has a heart marking on their chest you know for sure the owner is probably a warriors fan OR was one at some point in time

[noyasmashing]

Between Lines

Sub!Kenma x Fem!reader

CW: caught jerking off, reader a lil mean, begging, kenma being a cry baby, phone smut

A/N: Kinda rushed this one tbh.. I don’t know if I’m a fan of it but I liked the idea

WC: 1,360

Kenma's quiet demeanor was a defining trait, one that set him apart from the crowd. He wasn't one to actively seek out friendships, nor did he make much effort to engage in conversations with girls.

However, you were the exception. The circumstances of how your nightly calls began was something Kenma could not recall; but it was evolved from your shared love of video games. But once the controllers were set aside for the night, the conversations continued.

Despite his reputation for silence, Kenma was an attentive listener. He found solace in the sound of your voice, absorbing every detail you shared – whether it was the latest gossip, your favorite TV shows, or the mundane details of your day. He was content with this, offering only occasional interjections or quiet chuckles in response.

When the topic inevitably turned to him, Kenma's responses were dry, stale. I mean, you tried to talk about him, but it’s like he was on a witness protection program. He always found a way to turn the conversations back to you.

You weren’t exactly sure why, as sometimes you would have to ask “Are you still there, Kozu?"

A soft "mhmm" would be his only response, a subtle reassurance that he was indeed still listening.

Tonight was no exception. The clock ticked past 10:00 pm, leaving Kenma’s room dark as he lay on his bed, phone pressed to his ear. Your voice filled the room, animated and excited as you recounted the latest episode from your favorite TV show.

"But can you believe that plot twist?" you exclaimed, your excitement palpable even through the phone.

"Yeah, it was unexpected," Kenma replied, his tone calm but laced with a hint of amusement.

As the conversation continued, Kenma found himself lying there, feeling embarrassingly aroused. Lately, he had been struggling to find release, but there was something about the sound of your voice that seemed to make him undeniably hard.

His hand started to wander lower, venturing into forbidden territory where his boxers were already dampened with precum.

"That reminds me, Kozu! What you pulled off during the last match was pretty impressive," you enthusiastically complimented him, completely unaware of the effect your words were having on him.

“o-oh really?” He asked shakily, shamelessly teasing his overly sensitive pink tip.

"Mhmm, good job, Kozu.” You chuckled, praising him once more for his gaming skills.

Now, of all times, was the worst moment to praise him like that. He was already so aroused! The tone of your voice, your affectionate words, and just your presence in general was too much for him. By now, he was shakily jerking himself off, beads of precum leaking out of his tip.

He attempted to stifle his sounds of pleasure, but his efforts were in vain as a loud moan escaped him, broadcasting through the mic. His moment of ecstasy was abruptly halted when the realization of his mistake hit him.

"Kozu?" you asked, surprised at his unexpected reaction. Kenma didn’t know what to do with himself. He could die right about now. The one time he decided to let into his urges and he gets caught!

Before he could gather his thoughts to respond, you continued with a mischievous tone, "Have you been getting off to my voice every night?" Kenma's cheeks flushed even deeper as he struggled to find words, caught off guard by your bold question.

"N-no... I just... I'm sorry," Kenma whimpered out, his embarrassment evident in his voice. Somehow, he found himself even more aroused than before. Being caught by you had an unexpected effect on his body.

He braced himself for your potential reaction—scolding, perhaps even the silent treatment, or worse. But instead, your voice cut through his panicked thoughts, softer than before, calm and understanding,

"Did you cum yet?" you asked curiously, your tone indicating a desire to help with his predicament.

"W-what?" Kenma asked, still expecting a reprimand from you, his confusion evident in his voice.

“Cum? Did you?” you asked, this time with a slightly firmer tone.

"N-n, no.. no I didn’t," Kenma told you anxiously, unable to believe you would ask him something so intimate.

“Do you want to?” you inquired, your tone still gentle, yet probing. Kenma couldn't decipher how you felt about the situation, but he responded with a shaky "yes," although it was an obvious answer.

Your light laughter filled the air, further fueling Kenma's embarrassment. "I won't stop you, Kozu. I was waiting for something like this to happen," you admitted seductively, your words sending a shiver down his spine.

Kenma let out a soft whine, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and arousal coursing through him at your candid admission.

His hand slowly made its way back down to his aching cock, ready to relive himself of this burning feeling.

"What... what do you mean?" Kenma let out shakily, running his hand over the length of his throbbing erection. God, he was incredibly turned on right now, teetering on the edge of climax with every touch.

"Oh, come on," you teased, as if he should have known what you meant all along, though maybe he did, he wasn't sure. "Do you think I spend hours talking to you even when it’s late just for fun? I like you, Kozume. I really do," you confessed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

This time, Kenma let out a loud moan in response. You? You liked him? It was all too much for him to process.

"I want to see you," he whined, his voice filled with desperation, the sound of his frantic movements against his cock audible through the speaker, causing you to clench around nothing.

"You sound so pretty right now. I wish it was my hand doing the work for you," you remarked, ignoring his attempts at flattery.

He continued to diligently pleasure himself, while you comforted him with soft words, unwittingly encouraging his actions.

His breath became heavier, punctuated by moans and whimpers. "Please," he breathed out, nearing the edge of his climax.

"Please what, Kozu? Do you want to cum?" you asked warmly, causing him to nod his head rapidly, as if you could see him.

"Hmm?" you questioned at his silence. He let out a shy "can I?" seeking your permission for release.

"I don’t know…" you trailed off, feigning contemplation. "I���m kind of upset you touched yourself to my voice without me knowing. You're such a little pervert," you chided, and Kenma couldn't help but let out a mangled sob, his hand slowing its pace in response to your disapproval.

Hearing his slowed motions, you quickly scolded him,

"Don’t slow down if I didn’t tell you to.” This time you were much harsher than he expected. Tears began running down his burning cheeks, small apologies leaving his wet lips.

“If you wanna cum, beg," your demeanor shifted quickly, fueling his arousal even more.

He couldn’t believe you would make him do something so lewd, but he was too far gone to stop himself, "Please.. p-please [name], 'wanna cum so bad! I'm sorry.. mm sorry!" Kenma's voice came out in pitiful sobs, his desperation evident.

The sound of your tongue clicking, as if you weren’t satisfied with his pleas, only made him more desperate.

“I don’t know… maybe I should make you wait until I can touch you,” you remarked. But all Kenma could focus on was the “until I can touch you.”

The thought of you, looking at him with those pretty eyes as you made him cum on himself over and over again, was too much.

He let out more pleas and whimpers, his hips buckling pathetically into his own hand.

“I need to cum, it hurts. I haven’t in sooo long. Please, just this once.. one time,” he rambled, trying to convince you.

"Alright baby, let it out," you finally relented, and Kenma's moans grew louder as thick white ropes of cum flew out from his sensitive tip, coating his pale stomach. Small thank yous and pieces of your name left his lips as he hit his peak.

"Who knew someone so quiet would moan so loud," you remarked, a hint of amusement in your voice.

[ningvory]

hi baby❤️❤️ ik we both feral AS FUCK for unnie line sserafim so can you write reader being free use for the three of them? imagine all of them horny asffff at the same time barging into your room, leaving no room to protest as they rip off your clothes OMG I WANT THEM. leaving them pussy drunk after cumming so violently in their mouths omg…. im actually gonna #######

ALSO THIS PIC OF YUNJIN OMG IW ANTNTBSONRBEHR SOSOB

thanks for listening to my ted talk babes😘

AHHH VICYYY THIS IS SO—😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

parings: lesserafimunnieline x 6thmember!f!reader

warnings: free use, pussywhipped unnie line, cum eating, manhandling lowk, overstimulation, squirting, foursome, dumbification, praising, mentions of reader blacking out, not proofread😵‍💫

wc: 614 words

YAAYY I FIGURED OUT GRADIENT COLORS😝😝

today had been a long day, due to your long awaited comeback, EASY, you and your members had been performing nonstop. but you didn’t mind, in fact you love your job! you always give it your all when performing so fans think that you’re basically made for the stage.

you really stood out this comeback, especially in the bside, SMART. the way your hips swayed had everyone hooked in a trance, and it seemed like it had the unnie line of your group in a trance too.

you and the girls had finally got back to the dorms, exhausted was something that you all were feeling. you started to walk to your room after telling them all to rest well, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of eyes staring you down, turning around, your suspicion was indeed correct, turning around to see your three unnie’s staring you down with hungry eyes had you immediately turning away and quickly walk to your room.

after a nice shower you were now lying on your bed, wearing your pink sleep gown and engulfed in your pink blanket on the verge of falling asleep. hearing your door opening was something regularly done in the dorm room, so you weren’t startled. but what startled you was feeling the blanket being snatched off of you, making you groan and look up to see who the perpetrator was. what you didn’t expect was your three unnies, staring you down.

“wha- what are you doing? wai-” your sentence was cut off by yunjin, pinning you down is kissing you, words drowning in her mouth.

“is that how you talk to your unnie’s, baby?” chaewon muttered out before blowing on your wet cunt making your legs jolt.

“no underwear, baby? so dirty.” kkura teased, rubbing your bundle of nerves.

yunjin finally broke your kiss, having you gasping for air. you feel her go behind you to raise your body up, silently teasing your nipples making you whine.

if almost immediately, they dived into your soaked cunt, chaewon was sucking on your clit while kkura was sucking and tongue fucking your hole. you were moaning and squealing so loudly, back arching and desperately trying to close your legs around their heads, the sound of slurping and the sensation of two wet muscles on your poor cunny was all too much and had you cumming all over their faces! :((

but they just didn’t stop, drinking up all you gave them, and going right back to it. tears were falling down your face while yunjin was doing nothing but praising you and littering your face with kisses.

after your 4th orgasm, you were shaking uncontrollably, desperately trying to push their heads away. they were sucking on your puffy cunt until they let go with a loud pop, bottom half of their faces were drenched in your juices. yunjin let go of your body and onto the floor infront of your bed with her fellow members.

“you can give us one more, right?” yunjin asked, seating herself beside kkura.

“noo~ s’too much.” you whined, your words were slurred and damn near incoherent.

“have we fucked you stupid already? our dumb baby, so pretty for us.” chaewon said, eyes glazed completely over.

your legs were raised up by yunjin and chaewon, hands spreading your legs even further before diving right back into your abused cunny. you tasted so yummy on their tongues they couldn’t help but overstimulate you even more. having three mouths on your cunt had you babbling incoherent things and violently cumming all in their mouths! they were so pussy drunk they couldn’t help but eat you out until you blacked out on them. <33

[hyunverse]

welcome home ★ hwang hyunjin.

hyunjin x gn!reader. fluff, drabble. no warnings.

wc: 600 words.

Hyunjin renovates your new home for you, ensuring each detail is tailored to your liking.

"Watch your steps."

Carefully, Hyunjin guides you around the house, one hand clasped against your eyes, the other resting on your waist.  You could feel the cold tiles beneath your feet, and how it is slightly dusty from the month-long renovations. 

"Careful, don't want you to stub your toe," Hyunjin says, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

Hyunjin walks you through the house, until at one point (you couldn't tell where in the house), he stops. 

"One, two..." he whispers, and you can feel the smile on his face, "...Three. Surprise!"

Hyunjin drops his hand, watching as you take in the sight before you. You're standing in front of the newly renovated kitchen, its appearance far different than the last time you saw it. 

"Oh my god," you breathe out, "What the hell, Hyunjin?"

The walls of the kitchen had been renovated to your liking, the boring brick walls transformed into green marble tiles. The countertop looks like one from your dreams — straight from the house of Monet. All you could do is gasp.

"You like it?" Hyunjin questions, placing a hand on the small of your back.

"Sweetheart, I love it," you whisper. He smiles, content with the perplexed look on your face. 

"I love it," you repeat, roaming around the kitchen with Hyunjin following you like a lost puppy. "I really love it, Hyune."

“I’m happy you do, baby.”

You rummage through the drawers, trailing your pointer against every surface you could touch. All the furniture, even the kitchen cookware sets, was designed according to your preferences — as though Hyunjin had the same mind as yours. Frankly, it’s like your Pinterest board has come to life. 

What you’re unaware of is that indeed, Hyunjin had spent weeks stalking you on Pinterest. His urges of “pleeaaaaseee update your Pinterest boards,” weren’t for nothing. 

"Wait, need to show you this," your fiancee interrupts, taking your hand to lead you to a cabinet. 

He gently opens the cabinet, revealing a spice rack. The spice rack you've always wanted — he knows because he remembers the few times you've mentioned it — is sitting right inside the cabinet. 

“Holy fuck, Hyune,” you mutter, turning your head to him with your mouth agape, “It’s the fucking Lenox Spice Village that I wanted!”

“Yeah,” he giggles, a sense of pride bubbling in him. He lets out a small “oof,” when you throw yourself onto him, engulfing him into a tight hug.

“I love it so much, baby. I really love it.”

“Really?” he giggles, holding you tightly, “You haven’t even seen the bedroom.” 

Hyunjin leads you to the bedroom, then the bathroom, the living room — and lastly, an office. The space in the office had been divided into two, one-half works as his art corner, and the other serves as a study for you. The desk is exactly to your liking, a space designated for you to indulge in your hobbies.

There’s a peg board above your desk — with magnets from the cities you’ve travelled to, and polaroids from your dates with Hyunjin. A memento for all the memories you’ve made with him. 

It all feels like home. 

“It’s really perfect,” you exhale, standing by the desk with an awestruck face. “You know me so well, Hyune.”

“I do?” he mutters, a small smile gracing his face. He inches closer to you, his breath fanning against your neck. A kiss is cheekily placed on your cheek. “I just wanted you to feel at home.”

“And I do,” you whisper, looking up at him. “I feel at home. When you said to move in with you, I didn’t expect for all of this, you know?”

Hyunjin smiles, cupping your face with a tenderness you never thought you would deserve. Soft, akin to the breeze that graces your face every midnight. 

A contrast to his touch, his next words kicks the air out of you.

“Welcome home.”

taglist (send an ask to be added!)

@zoe8stay @starlostseungmin @hwajin @sleepyleeji @jdopes-recorder @sherryblossom @alyszaen @hyunluvxo @bokk-minnie @ghostyycat7 @fortunatelyhertragedy @yongbokkari @ameliesaysshoo @seoli-16 @jisungsdaydreamer @soobnny @seolboba @in2heartz @jehhskz @astraystayyh @mnwrld @hanjsquokka @pheonixfire777 @sapphirewaves @onlyhyunjin @jaefilm

[shuenkio]

Making you Jelly | Lhs.〃

Paring: Idol Heeseung X idol male!reader | Genre: Soft smut (Don't like Don't pressed, scroll away!)

Synopsis: Your purposely making your secret boyfriend jealous as a result, Both of you are locking in a room.

Cw: Cursing, dry humping, cumming, no sex .

Non proof read | wc: 1.7K

English is not my 1st language.

This is a work of fanfiction, don't throw unnecessary tantrums at this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A-N: Heeseung requested by Anon is now done 😜 I'm not good at writing how to express character emotion but I hope you can enjoy reading this! (The other requests will work starting tomorrow dw)

Hidden relationships in a K-pop group are pretty hard, especially in this industry. However, both of you and Heeseung were so good at hiding behind a curtain that only the members knew about this, not the manager. And that's the talent.

For today's schedule, the group is having an offline fan meeting after all the comeback promotion. It was authentic and delightful to be able to meet your fans in real life. Once the settlement is complete, each member is going to their own assigned seat, as the door is open wide when the clock strikes.

People are coming in one by one until the seats are full with all the fans presence; it mostly has a fan girl than a fan boy, especially. The event then began, with the fans taking a seat in front of you. As you leave a signature on their album with the best fan service you could provide, smile brightly in happiness. And so are the members; talking about the fan service, they're not any lower than you. They always have something on their plate, flirting and talking as if all those fans are their friends, or even worse.

As you continued to move your finger to write an autograph, your eyes were laying on the other side of you, which soon laid on your secret boyfriend, Heeseung. You heard him talking to the girl in front of him, as if she were his girlfriend. To make it inferior, your eyes went wide in disgust when he sniffed the girl's wrist to smell the cologne. Oh my.

As a result, you compose yourself to not act suspicious before letting out a chuckle under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. Turn your attention back to the fan in front of you.

"Which member do you think is the most flirty?" unexpectedly, The fan girl who is sitting facing you asks out loud. It's like she was reading your thoughts at the moment, but then you responded happily to her questions.

"Hmm, for me, I think... Heeseung Hyung? Yeah, I think it's him because look at him right now. As you spoke, the girl was turning to see Heeseung when you pointed it out, and it's indeed true that he's quite good at it.

"It's true ㅋㅋㅋ it's must be hard to be his fan m/n ya~"

"I know right, sometimes I just want to ask him, Did he have a hidden girlfriend? ㅋㅋ" in return for joking, You make your fans laugh nonstop. Before you said goodbye to her when she was moving to the other members, After a while, the fan meeting ended with the autograph session. For now, moving on to the interaction and fan service session.

The members would be talking, making jokes, unwrapping the gift, or posing for the camera while doing service. Still upset by the way Heeseung acted earlier, you decide to take sweet revenge on him by clinging on to the other members, and having a good time, you press his button by flirting with the fans.

The revenge turned out to be successful; you just made him upset. Not only that, but the smile on his face died down into a thin line when you held on to Sunoo's arm. To fuel it even more, you were wearing a bridal veil from the gift. Sunoo was with you the whole time. When he saw the intense, fierce staring, he immediately recognized what was going on.

He laid down and whispered to you what's happening, but you couldn't care less as you began to laugh and make a pick-up line along with the fan. It felt satisfying when you succeeded in making him furious. Soon later, the fan meeting came to an end.

The group then bows down in respect for the fans who have come to the event and shows their support. For then, the manager called the group to leave the stage and go back to the dorm since it's over now. Unfortunately, today you are having a ride with Heeseung to travel back to the dorm along with the single member, Sunghoon. The awkward silence was so loud, which made the manager furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

He thought there'd be a fight again between any one of you, but it turned out Sunghoon was the only one who was oblivious and knew nothing. Seeing you didn't make any conversation like usual with Heeseung made Sunghoon squint his eyes and puzzle the situation as he realized that the two of you are having a conflict. At the dorm.

Before all the members go to their own dorm, they need to have a meal together first on the first floor, which is the Hyung Line, and then in a maknae dorm, which includes Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jay, and Ni-ki. All the members are either plopping on the couch, watching their phones, or playing games, waiting for the manager to deliver their food.

Not even a step to the living room yet, Heeseung suddenly pulls you into his room before locking it tight. Now it's just you and him together, with that awkward atmosphere once again. He then pins you against the wall and cages you inside his personal space with both of his hands as a pair of rails.

"You know what you did, m/n! Care to explain?" Breaking the silence, his eyes were now turning even more fierce than the last time he was giving you at the fan meeting. Yet you still didn't flinch a bit. You know him well; he was doing this just to scare you for the answer. Deep down, he can't do anything more than that, or he might?

"Speaking of the devil, who is the one who sniffs the girl's wrist? How about that?" You reply, folding your arms together, also upset by your boyfriend's action.

"But that was the fan service, m/n. Be for real, m/n! You were never jealous before." Heeseung soon spoke out, raising his brows in disbelief at your unknown jealousy that you've never had before. He's about to go insane at the moment since all the imagine and those interactions you were having with the fans last evening.

"But you were sniffing her scent! Why would you do that? I don't think that's a fan service you should  do." You fire back, unable to resist the thought you were having with your stupid jealousy. Soon, Heeseung be quite at your brust out. As you realize, a pang of guilt is hitting you hard in the chest. You were going far with this one.

"Um, hey Hyung, I'm sorry I went too far." Without any warning, out of frustrated Heeseung presses you against the wall as he flips you around. with your face now in front of the wall and your back facing him. Your boyfriend pulling your pants down at such a speed, making you butt naked at an instant, which makes you leave a shocking gasp out of your mouth.

"What are you doing, Hyung?" "I'm going to make you remember who I belong to and who you belong to!" No further, Heeseung unzips his pant quickly, freeing his hardened cock that begged to be released as he stroking it together before shoving in the middle of your thighs. Instead of fucking, he also had the thought that railing you up in the dorm like this was too risky and would cause a lot of trouble, so instead of making messy noises around, masturbating together was the option right now to punish you.

Your boyfriend then thrusts his cock hard in between your thighs; his length was so big that when he rolls his hip forward, his and your dick cause a sensation.

"Auugh. It feels werid, Hyung; the members are still here!" You said, trembling, and shivers sent down your spine, mixture with a fear that someone could come in and see this whole thing.

"Oh, shut up, m/n. If that happens, I'll take full responsibility. Now zip your mouth before I change my mind and fuck the hell out of you." Heeseung slipped out of his fury; he was so hot right now that you couldn't even say a word, with only grunts and whimpers instead. The dry humping against skin and skin, along with the small slapping sound, makes your dick twitch in response. His cock pressured you as if he were fucking you even though he wasn't, and that made Heeseung take note of this. You're sensitive, AF.

"Fuck you, m/n, you should remember what will happen when you press my button; this was your first lesson; the next time you do, I'll take your ability to walk for a day and get it!!" He demanded, almost shouting at your eardrums. However, you can only nod in response because if you did say a word, an unholy moan would leave your throat.

Why does it feel so good with just him humping against you? With a few minutes of pushing in, soon a wave of jolt was building inside both of you and Heeseung, as you had a feeling like you'd cum first before him. Heeseung noticed that your face was flushing more red than earlier, so he immediately knew you'd explode soon.

"Hyung, I'm cumming fuc—Nghh auhh—" Your dick is then twitching terribly as a load of white semen shoots out on the wall, driving you so sensitive that you can't help but moan. Luckily, Heeseung was fast enough to cover your mouth before letting anything out. Soon, Heeseung too was thrown to the ceiling and exploded a huge load of cum more than you, splashing them all over the floor and shattered everywhere. Not to mention, all men are sensitive, and so was he, which resulted in his weight falling on your small figure.

"Shit—*huff* Hyung, stand up straight; we can't make any noise."

"You feel like heaven, m/n; your thighs are squeezing me tight. Shit, this is the best cum I ever had." His head was buried in the crooked part of your neck as he whispered all of those words. Both of you and him, shivering and trembling in pleasure of masturbate earlier with the conflict, erased from this moment.

"The members would ask why our fight was so behaving."

"Yes, baby boy, but now let's clean this up." 

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ CRD to all the owner and dividers [ithemes]

[calicoheartz]

helloooo i love your work and i can’t stop thinking about paige x uconnwbbp and reader gets in an argument with a ref and is taken off the court (and obvs there’s videos all over the internet about reader cussing out the ref) and paige pulling her away 💗

𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ; 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒

꣑୧ — summary | basically the prompt 🪩🌊

wc ; 752

— warnings | tiiiiny bit of angst , cussing , mainly fluff / normal

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : yayaya this prompt was so fun to write !! deff need to do more fiesty!reader x paige sometime 🥴 but for now , enjoy !

Our team was in the midst of a nail-biting game against their biggest rival. The arena was electric, fans on the edge of their seats as the clock ticked down. I was fully immersed in the intensity of the match, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

As the final minutes approached, a questionable call by the referee sent our opponents to the free-throw line. My frustration boiled over, and before I knew it, I was arguing with the ref, my voice rising above the noise of the crowd.

“That was a ridiculous call!” I shouted, my hands gesticulating wildly. “Are you blind?”

The ref’s face hardened. “Watch your mouth, or you’re out of here.”

“Make a fair call for once!” I retorted, my anger getting the better of me.

Suddenly, I felt a firm hand on my arm. I turned to see Paige, her expression a mix of concern and determination. “Hey, calm down,” she urged, trying to pull me away from the escalating situation.

But I wasn’t ready to back down. “No, this is unfair, Paige! We’re getting robbed!”

The ref blew the whistle, signaling a technical foul. “You’re out of the game. Leave the court now.”

The locker room was a sanctuary of silence compared to the chaos outside. I sat on the bench, head in my hands, the weight of my actions crashing down on me. The door creaked open, and I looked up to see Paige walking in, her face etched with concern.

“Hey,” she said softly, sitting down next to me. “You okay?”

I sighed, feeling a mix of shame and frustration. “I screwed up. I let my temper get the best of me.”

Paige wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “Everyone gets frustrated. It’s a high-pressure game. But we have to keep our cool, especially with all those cameras around.”

I groaned, remembering the countless smartphones pointed in my direction during the argument. “There are probably videos all over the internet of me cussing out the ref.”

Paige chuckled softly. “Yeah, you’re trending. But it’s okay. We’ll handle it.”

By the next morning, the videos had indeed gone viral. Social media was buzzing with clips of my outburst, complete with hashtags and memes. I scrolled through the comments, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anger.

“Hey, stop torturing yourself,” Paige said, taking my phone away. “What’s done is done. Let’s focus on moving forward.”

I nodded, grateful for her steady presence. “You’re right. I just hate that I lost my cool like that.”

Paige smiled, her eyes filled with understanding. “You’re passionate. It’s one of the things I love about you. But maybe channel that passion into something more productive next time.”

I laughed, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “I’ll try. Thanks for pulling me away last night. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Paige leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I’ve got your back, always. We’re a team, on and off the court.”

The next game was our chance for redemption. I was determined to keep my composure, no matter what happened. Paige and I had spent the days leading up to the match focusing on mental preparation, reminding each other of our goals and the importance of staying calm.

As we stepped onto the court, the support from our teammates and fans was overwhelming. The game was tough, but I kept my cool, channeling my energy into every play. Paige’s presence was a constant source of strength, her encouragement pushing me to give my best.

When the final buzzer sounded, we had won by a narrow margin. The crowd erupted in cheers, and I felt a surge of pride and relief. Paige ran over to me, her face glowing with joy.

“You did it!” she exclaimed, wrapping me in a tight hug.

“We did it,” I corrected, pulling her close. “Thank you for believing in me.”

Paige smiled, her eyes shining. “Always. Now, let’s go celebrate.”

The viral videos eventually faded from memory, replaced by clips of our triumphant victory. Paige and I continued to grow stronger, both as teammates and as partners. The incident with the ref had taught me a valuable lesson about keeping my emotions in check, but it had also shown me the depth of Paige’s love and support.

Together, we faced every challenge head-on, knowing that no matter what happened on the court, we had each other’s backs. And that was the greatest victory of all.

it feels good to write more for paige now! hope yall liked this one and tysm for reading !

[rottiens]

⊹ ˚. how to be human (again), ft. gojō satoru

tags. secret relationship au (the beginning), strangers to friends to lovers, gojo is a bad cook (he's trying), cw blood, inspired by the canon universe, references to geto, the system and the higher ups suck, the reader is (was) a gojo fan, slightly angsty (the reader loses a friend on a mission and has a crisis) to comfort, female terms used for the reader. | wc. 6.3K

notes. this was quite a journey and I'm not sure if anyone will read this but if you do and enjoy it thanks for reading, hugs and kisses <3

It's not like you've thought about it before, it's definitely not like you've stopped to think about it for more than five minutes a day or like this has been a conversation you've had more than once with some of your friends, however none of the theories you may have discussed in secret could compare in how it felt to have the great Gojo Satoru in front of you.

You take a quick glance off your lap to check on him and verify that he's certainly still focused on his phone —even if he's still wearing the blindfold, it's not like that's going to stop him from answering his messages, right?— and upon verifying that he is indeed not paying attention to you, you go back to feigning interest in the magazine you are holding in one hand: in the colorful pages showing the latest fashion trends and in the 3D red-haired girl who is almost coming out of the magazine while making the peace sign with two fingers, even though she doesn't manage to stop your thoughts from orbiting around Satoru again. 

You think it's strange again... you feel him, you know he's there but at the same time it's like he's not there. Sometimes you have to look up to verify that he is really still there and that it is not a trick your senses are playing on you. Being in front of Satoru feels like when the back of your neck bristles and your heart shoots up at an accelerated rate for no apparent reason, like feeling like you're being watched by something even though you know it's the middle of the night and you're really home alone. 

You could feel his cursed energy vibrating, coming in intense waves from his direction, dulling your own and in turn making you feel like a little bug. His energy wasn't rough or violent, you couldn't describe it that way no matter how intense it was, it was more like being under the sun as its rays burned your skin. You couldn't say there were any bad intentions in this one either but what you were sure of was that he was alert, as if he was always waiting for an attack, like when your feet are on the edge of a tall building and vertigo bites your spine and the soles of your feet. 

In front of you, a few inches from your crossed legs sits a small wooden table; on it are cluttered magazines and two cups of tea that were served for you at least an hour ago. You've barely taken a drink from your cup, too nervous to make an unplanned move, after all with your luck you'd most likely end up tripping over the cup and spilling everything in front of one of the people you admire the most.

There wasn't a sorcerer who didn't know Satoru and all that he was capable of, so knowing that if all goes well you will be allowed to teach at the same institution as him puts some extra weight and responsibility on your shoulders. That you will likely have the opportunity to work with him or share missions together makes your guts tangle with each other. Although you couldn't understand why the director had taken so long to arrive, you had been flipping through the same magazine for the last few inexhaustible minutes, trying to distract your eyes, controlling your impulses not to look at him again....

However, you can't help yourself and end up looking him up and down at least a tenth time. He really is tall, much taller than you remember and taller than you can tell from the pictures. Besides the fact that, sitting with one of his arms stretched out on the back of the sofa and his legs spread apart, his knees far apart from each other, make his body look bigger, this one manages to occupy almost the entire space of the sofa. His thighs spill out into the uniform making the baggy pants look full. 

Your head falls slightly to one side and you wonder what he is seeing behind that blindfold, how much he is able to see, could he really see you or were you just acting like a fool looking at him out of the corner of your eye whenever you could, could you really keep looking at him without being afraid that he is going to say something about it?

Satoru stirs, his legs close to imitate yours. You run away unnoticed to turn your eyes back to the magazine, to the model who has been the only witness to your nerves on edge for the last hour. With your heart pounding in your throat, you turn the page only to find two actors kissing passionately on the front page with the headline that their love has crossed over from the big screen to real life. 

Flustered and not sure if you're feeling guilty about nothing, you glance back at Satoru and the lopsided smile he greets you with makes you jump a little in your seat. Pools of sweat gather on the back of your neck and trickle down the small of his back. 

Did he...?

You lean over the table to grab the cup and hydrate your throat, however, your body turns to stone. 

"Did you know it's rude to stare?" He speaks after so long of silence and your grip on the porcelain trembles. "I don't think we've met before, have we?"

You improve your position against the backrest and try to regain your composure by sipping some of the cold brew before speaking. "I don't think so, no." You hate tea. 

Satoru clicks his tongue and pushes his body forward to get a better look at you as your eyes struggle to stay somewhere fixed on his body other than his lips or thighs. "I could have sworn I've seen you somewhere." 

You're so embarrassed at what you're going to say next that you think you're going to faint.

"I had asked you for a picture before." And your voice cuts off at the end, unsure about the recent confession.

If you get to work together there could be no lies between you so you decide to be honest from now on, no secrets. Then everything also served as an excuse for the way he caught you looking at him. Yes, you did meet him once in person but you were so nervous that you barely remember the details of your encounter. 

Satoru rubs his jaw with his fingers, then the smile widens pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

"Hm. At that convention a few years ago maybe?" In a stupor where you can only move your eyelids and head, you nod in his direction. "The cutie with the colored hair..." He really did have a very good memory, you think and memories of that day begin to overwhelm your head in the form of embarrassing polaroids. "You're such a fan! You were so excited," Satoru adds, laughing, as if everything he mentioned before wasn't embarrassing enough.

"I wasn't officially a sorceress yet back then..." 

"Oh." He wasn't laughing, but he had a grimace that threatened to do so at any moment. "You're justifying yourself? You're not a fan anymore then?" He almost sounded disappointed and at this point it was impossible for you to keep looking at him, so arranging your posture on the couch you adopt another position where it allows you to maintain your dignity somehow. 

"I wouldn't say I was a fan..." You try to explain but Satoru interrupts you.  

"You definitely looked like a fan to me." He was laughing now. 

"What I mean is that I've matured now." You speak quickly as if trying to make a point. "I'm not a fan, just an admirer." You clarify, trying to get him to see that between those two words there is some difference that you are seeing clearly.

"Does that mean you don't want a picture again?" 

That photo you still keep in your nightstand drawer, well hidden under books, your phone charger and one or two other bracelets you wore as a teenager haunts you even in your dreams. You had forgotten about it. 

"No..." You force yourself to answer by shaking your head. "I don't think it's necessary now that we're going to be working together." 

Which fills you with pride, by the way. You were personally recommended by the principal of your old school, being transferred as soon as you graduated to Tokyo High to work under their jurisdiction alongside the strongest, someone you've looked up to since you started attending sorcery school is something that fills your chest so much that you could barely breathe normally.

You always wanted to have the opportunity to defend the weakest, that's why even though your clan was strong and you possess a cursed strong technique, you worked and trained every day earning the recognition of special grade sorcerers, among them your former director. Being in the capital and being able to protect more people, all this shoulder to shoulder with a man you admire was like a dream come true, one that slowly turned into a nightmare. 

Over the years you realized how corrupted the system was, the bad decisions made by the council and the higher ups, making sorcerers die every day without anyone stopping to mourn or miss them because all they were good for were as tools.... 

... You don't know why suddenly the first time you interacted with Satoru comes to your memory now, the only two things in common between the two events is that you couldn't breathe and perhaps that you were both sitting next to each other in an enclosed space that seemed to close in on you. At the time you were proud of what you were doing, sure of your every decision since protecting the weakest was something you had lived for—  though now, you weren't so sure of that anymore. 

"Hey." You feel him touch you, but not really. His cursed technique gets in the way once again, as always, protecting himself from you and the outside. The metallic smell of blood is permeating you, your hands and your uniform to a point where it's unbearable and overwhelming, your gut twists and your mouth fills with saliva threatening to make you vomit at any moment. Your eyes on the verge of popping out of their sockets carefully fixate on the calluses on your hands and the crimson liquid that stains them and gets trapped under your fingernails along with a bit of dirt. "Are you okay?" Satoru asks and that's the problem, you weren't. None of this was okay.

"Ijichi, stop the car," you say still admiring your hands, perplexed.  

"Ijichi, don't stop the car." Satoru retorts. 

"Ijichi..." Your call sounds like a warning and the man pulls over to the side of the road immediately, you hear him apologize right away along with the thousand and one reproaches that follow behind it from Satoru. 

The blood is left plastered on the door as you leave, it is left on your face as you push some of your hair away from your face. 

The desert heat manifests itself in small droplets on your forehead, limiting your vision and in an unquenchable thirst that scrapes your throat.

"I'm going to quit..." you whisper to yourself but the wind carries your words to your companion who was hurrying to your side battling with the sand in his shoes. 

"You're not going to do it." 

"You can't tell me what to do." 

Your heavy footsteps were soon leading you away from him as a stabbing pain bit into your muscles and your feet complain of the pain your shoes have been giving them all day. 

"It's just a mission gone wrong!" 

You stop suddenly and turn your body to face him. You're planted in front of him shaking with anger not just because the higher ups were going to reproach you and probably stop giving you special rank missions for months, maybe years—

"It wasn't just a mission gone wrong, someone is dead, Satoru!" a scream rips your throat as you shout the sorcerer's name, the feeling burning in your chest is not just that of a mission gone wrong, it's the death and blood of your friend on your hands.

Those spikes must have gone through that civilian, not your friend, that person who was with you since you started working for Tokyo, that person who supported and encouraged you when things weren't going so well. Just twenty hours ago you were having coffee with him in the coffee shop below your apartment and now you talk about him in the past tense. As life faded from those beautiful eyes, full of kindness, always ready to tell you that you were going to be okay they were gone.

"You need to calm your emotions or you're going to curse him." Was that really all he could say to you while you were getting wrecked in front of him? Your hands that tried so hard to stop the bleeding in your partner become fists. "This is not what he would have wanted, [Name]."

You snort, then start pacing in circles, searching for the right words other than fuck you. Suddenly you stop to face him and find yourself with that usual annoying blindfold that separates him from everyone else, that never lets you see what he was thinking, and you point an accusing finger at him.

"What do you know what he would have wanted, Satoru? You didn't know him." And you know you shouldn't keep talking, you're biting your tongue because you know you don't have to say it but if you don't that vein in your temples is going to explode. "You don't know anyone because you don't let anyone in, not even me who is supposed to be your friend." The word friend comes loaded with imaginary quotation marks and with the weight of all the years and missions you've shared together.

He says your name a second time, now sounding weak. 

"You are so busy, on your unreachable throne as the strongest that you would never think of the idea of being vulnerable and watching those you love die because you love no one." His jaw muscles are tense, showing you that you may have struck a chord. 

"That's not true. I'm trying to make this a better place, I want the sorcerers who are growing up to be better, stronger, who don't need someone like me and I understand you—" 

"You have to recognize the privilege you have, Gojo." He hated that you called him by his last name because it puts distance between you and makes you those strangers again in that meeting room while you waited for Yaga, but you have a point you wanted him to understand. "Please don't pretend you understand me, because you don't."

Tired of the conversation that seemed to be going nowhere you turn around, there is sand inside your white socks and uniform pants, with a heavy heart and head thumping you set out to get as far away from him as you can. Somewhere far away from those six eyes that always see everything and his cursed energy that seem to drown the whole desert beneath his aura. 

Satoru stops you by pulling your arm towards him, his fingers are an invisible force holding your wrist prisoner and you have no strength left to fight, the adrenaline from the fight that ended badly starts to evaporate along with the sweat on your forehead and you let him stop you, your anger replaced with a deep sadness. 

"I can't," you mutter closing your eyes, giving in to the flame of the sun toasting the top of your head. "Let me go." 

"I won't." He couldn't do it because he already saw what happened to a friend the last time he did it. He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice, even if he had to fight yourself in the process. 

"I'm not going back to Jujutsu High," you say and your voice sounds steadier, swallowing the lump that ties your throat.

"I won't make you do it," Satoru snorts through his nose. "But at least come with me." 

You don't have the courage to turn and face him so you just nod, giving him permission to do as he pleases. Everything happens so fast you don't have time to process it, his big arms wrap around you in an invisible embrace, his cursed energy is vibrating all over the place and you don't stop him or try to complain the moment his arms squeeze you tightly and it only takes a couple of seconds for you to open your eyes and the hellish heat of the desert is replaced by a safe roof and four walls surrounding you. 

The thermal sensation of the air conditioning makes you shiver from the sudden change in temperature, making your skin bristle. You take a breath of air and step back finally breaking the safe space Satoru created for you and he doesn't stop you when you take space between the two of you or when your curious eyes examine the place, though the answer was obvious— an unstoppable "Where are we?" slips out of you, needing to hear a verbal confirmation that he too saw the same thing you did and that this was not an illusion. 

"My place," Satoru says so simply, hitting the bull's-eye on the idea created in your head. There are questions about teleportation you'd like to ask him but for the moment you keep quiet, admiring your friend's comfortable apartment as if it were a museum. 

You were in the middle of the kitchen and your body felt tingly and somewhat weak from the teleportation, your feet not quite sure that the ground they were walking on was real. You were surrounded by white colors and a few shades of brown coming from the countertop. You never imagined how Satoru would live, in fact he was so god-like that sometimes you forgot that he also ate and slept like you, yet for the money he must have had in his bank account the place seemed very... simple.

"Why do you have less stuff than me in my apartment?" The question comes in a joking tone wanting to break the ice even though you were still annoyed. "I thought you were rich," you add. 

Satoru emits a laugh that sounds more like a snort. "What makes you think I'm not," he declares arrogantly. You write him off as a smug fool, though you try hard not to roll your eyes at his attitude. "I don't need to buy so much stuff because I'm always traveling. I just come here to sleep."

Satoru motions inviting you to move around his apartment with him. You decide to follow him, walking down a short hallway just behind him. You watch as his fingers curl around the door handle at the end of the hallway, opening it for you and revealing the bathroom. You feel your eyes fill with a mixture of fear and insecurity, similar to the eyes of a wary deer as you enter the room. With a slight creak, Satoru closes the door behind you, leaving you disconsolate and alone along with your tangled thoughts.

The walls are lined with pristine white tiles, with a sheen that reflects the light like mirrors. You approach the sink and notice the golden faucets emerging from the white porcelain with elegance. As you face the wall-mounted mirror, your own reflection seems to show confusion and an overwhelming sense of uncertainty.

Your hair is a mess, the strands had escaped from the tight bun you usually wear when going on a mission, the scrunchie about to fall out. There is a small scar on your cheek that runs horizontally across it and barely noticeable stains from your own blood-covered fingers that got there when you try to pull your hair away from your face. 

You look down and guilt hits your bile, the innocent color of the sink had been replaced by your bloodied hands which clutched at it tightly. 

Through a glass window, a ray of light filters in, bathing the room with a faint luminosity. The sun's rays draw mysterious patterns on the tiled floor. Shadows dance in the corners, and in the midst of this overwhelming sensory experience, your mind is flooded with gloomy thoughts and unanswered questions. 

At that instant, the sound of tapping against the door startles you, bringing you back to the reality of the bathroom. 

"I'll leave some clothes outside," says Satoru, who doesn't wait for an answer before leaving and giving your thoughts space again.

You turn back to the reflection in the mirror and again to your hands, give way to the water trapped in the faucet and scrub your hands with the liquid soap resting on the ceramic, helping yourself with it to clean up the mess you had made. 

Then, you get rid of your uniform and with your foot drag it to a corner to get into the shower, from there you step under the stream of water in an almost automatic way. You barely react to the coldness of the water but after a moment you get used to it, let it run over you and clean with the help of the soap the mud stains and something else that crawl into the drain. 

You squeeze until your skin hurts, until the water carries no more dirt in the drain and you scrub until you have no more tears to drop, it is only at that moment that you turn the shower and force yourself to leave the comfort you had found in that cold wall to get out of the cubicle and dry your body with a towel you found neatly folded hanging above the toilet. 

As you open the door you find on the floor articles of clothing that you pick up and close the door again to examine. The first was a white T-shirt, large enough to reach your thighs, this was accompanied by blue shorts into which you slip, forgetting that you needed underwear. 

If it were up to you, you would stay all your life in that bathroom that smelled of coconut and oatmeal but you had to pretend to be brave. You take one last look at the image in the mirror, ignoring the fact that you still need to fix your hair and that there are dark circles under your red eyes you decide to finally leave, being seduced by a sweet smell and sounds of dishes clattering against each other you are guided to the kitchen. 

"What are you doing?" you ask confused, in front of you was a Satoru whisking something with a fork inside a bowl in an exaggerated manner, being extremely extra and loud.

"Pancakes." You stand silently admiring the technique, feeling like laughing because it looks ridiculous but not giving him the pleasure of listening to you. Satoru had changed out of his uniform into casual clothes —baggy jeans in a worn blue and a strapless T-shirt—and had ditched the blindfold, gifting you for the first time what his naked eyes looked like.  "I'm trying to cook. I usually eat canned stuff and I've been wanting to learn how to cook, at least basic stuff." Satoru commented something like that before, that he would forget to eat or buy meals on his travels that he would then bring home and forget to consume, you didn't expect him to be serious back then. Imagining him cooking was very out of character for you. 

You approach the countertop in disbelief, stepping through the door frame and then climb a stool to admire him up close. With the help of your hands you hold your jaw and soon your whole head is filled with Satoru stirring the batter, inevitably silencing your thoughts and lulling you into a sort of trance. 

Satoru stops his task to set the batter aside and focus on you, it was even worse without the blindfold, you didn't know where to hide to escape him. His blue eyes were on yours, then briefly went to your lips. 

"You said earlier that I wouldn't let you in, I want to." 

"You don't have to." You reply curtly, keeping up the mask that you don't mind losing his friendship, clinging to your anger. 

"I want to try." 

You're silent for a moment. "I'm not going back to Jujutsu High." Then you warn him. 

Satoru breaks the dueling stares to grab the bowl with white batter again which was starting to take on a fat texture, you wrinkle your nose at the strange consistency and at the tiny bubbles in it and the thought of criticizing his style of making pancakes lingers on the tip of your tongue. 

"I'm not going to force you to stay." Satoru takes a ladle and dips it into the batter, pouring a first misshapen pancake into a previously buttered pan. "But Maki is going to miss you." You roll your eyes. 

"You're not going to blackmail me."

"I'm not!" he laughingly defends himself, with a spatula poking the pancake around the edges to check if it was already browned —spoiler, it wasn't—. "But she really will." You think he's not really talking about Maki, though. 

Satoru flips the pancake which wasn't burnt or browned, it hadn't even been cooked and the spatula along with the pan are sticky from the batter. Exasperated, you get up from the stool to head over to him. 

"Come here." You don't wait for him to answer you to pull the spatula from his hands and try to save the pancake which screams in the pool of boiling butter.

"Oh, you're going to show me how it's done?" he asks half indignantly, half laughing. 

"Uh-huh." You reply, turning down the stove flame. "I'm not a teacher anyway, I don't have anyone under my care. And if I'd had a chance before I've blown it now." You return to the subject, ignoring the stove as you pay more attention to the coat of paint on the wall.  

"You were good today." Satoru says softly, it's so comforting the way he addresses you that you feel like crying but you mask it with a brief pout. 

"It's not enough to just do well. I lost more than the respect of the higher-ups today." You distract yourself by flipping the pancake over, the top showing you a burnt golden color, much more decent than what Satoru was doing.  

"Nobody's perfect, [Name]."

"You are." You reply too quickly as you victoriously scoop out the first pancake and throw another bit of batter into the pan, more butter. 

For longer than you would have liked to admit, all you hear is the bubbling of butter toasting the batter. 

"That's what you think of me?" Satoru breaks the silence and you notice out of the corner of your eye that he's folding his arms. 

"What does it matter what I think?" 

"It matters to me," he admits, looking at you for the first time. "You are my friend after all. You don't care what I think of you?" 

"Not really." You lie, taking the opportunity to flip the pancake. Even though Satoru probably knows you're doing it, his eyes widen slightly, looking you up and down. 

"I thought you were my fan." He puts a hand to his chest for added drama, gasping for air at the same time.

"Please forget that!" 

"You were eating me with your eyes thinking I didn't see you. That's workplace harassment, I could report you, you know?" 

"Shut up!" you threaten him with the spatula smeared with the mixture and a couple of drops fall to the floor. 

Little by little the plate was filling up with the pancakes that to your surprise didn't taste so bad, you shared one with Satoru before finishing cooking them and you even flattered him —they're okay, they were literally your words, it was the only praise you could give to his first attempt—, you knew he was going to get better.

From the shelf Satoru takes out two porcelain plates and places them side by side and brings them towards you, you are sitting on one of the stools. 

"Thank you."

"Are you going to stay over or do you want me to take you home?" Satoru asks before sitting down, poking at one of the fluffy pancakes. 

You take your time before answering, honey drizzling over the mountain of pancakes and making a puddle on your plate. The question bounces around in your head, reliving memories of the recent failed mission. 

"I think I want to be alone." You answer finally, focused on pinching a pancake with a fork. 

Satoru says nothing more, his gaze not falling back on you while you, on the other hand, check him with the side of your eye every five seconds. You force yourself to fill your mouth not to talk anymore because you had nothing more to say and whatever comes out of your mouth now could be dangerous. 

So you swallow and chew the words you never said, mixing them with the sweetness of honey and the burnt part of pancakes. Even though the silence is uncomfortable, there is a certain tranquility to it. 

After eating you help him wash the dishes and Satoru offers to drive you home. It was on the tip of your tongue to refuse but you were sure that it would be faster and the sooner you arrived the sooner you could throw yourself on the bed and get warm under your sheets next to your cat, so without time to lose you picked up your uniform from the bathroom and sent him your address through the gps which made you realize that you didn't live so far away. 

On the way you didn't talk much, just chattered about the irony of the weather and the heavy drops splashing against the window. You asked how his students were and he asked how your cat was, and before you could realize it Satoru was parking his car in front of the entrance. 

You accept his invitation to accompany you to the door, trotting in front of the coffee shop that had already closed, inhaling the smell of freshly brewed coffee that lingered in the air. He steps forward when you invite him into the warmth of your home. The light from the bulb chases away the shadows and draws your gray cat towards the entrance to greet you between meows, his soft fur brushes against your legs and then as if he has known him all his life he rubs against Satoru's legs and Satoru can't help but be seduced by the little animal and squats down to pet him while you smile at the scene. 

Satoru stretches out his knees again, lifting his size above you. 

"You're safe and sound," he says." You don't have to-"

Your bottom lip is quivering and you blame the raindrops you caught on your mini marathon from the car to your door, Satoru frowns and takes a step in front of you. You see his hands shaking but he forces them to keep still on either side of his legs, you can't see his eyes because they are hidden under the sunglasses but the concern on his face is more than evident. 

"Can I hug you?" Satoru doesn't say anything and just pounces on you, as if he's been waiting for you to give him permission. It's like always, you can't feel him but you're thankful he's here. "I was so scared there," you confess, forcing yourself not to cry and he realizes the fragile state you're in. "I don't want to see another friend die." Your arms tighten around his waist, lending weight to your sentence. 

"It's okay," he points out, stroking your back as if it were your cat. "I'm the strongest after all, you don't have to worry about me." 

You snort, sinking your face lightly into his unreachable chest and give him a light smack from behind that he never feels. 

Suddenly, as if something is pushing you, you fall on top of him, your face sinking into his chest and you quickly raise your head to look at him. He was smiling, a grimace that reassures you and pushes the heavy tears you had been holding out of your eyes. You hide your face in his torso again and it's so warm, you can't help but inhale as he pats your head, through it all you realize that unlike you, he's not wet. 

"It's going to be okay." 

"Satoru..." You look up at him again.

"That day, the day we met for the first time your cursed energy was all over the place... it was soft and warm and I wanted to tease you for that, I waited impatiently for you to come near me." Your heart pounding, it squeezes your chest and you think he might have noticed. "But I couldn't say anything, I'm never at a loss for words but being next to you... I could feel your purity and your good intentions, the desire inside you to help others. So I lowered my defenses and let you touch me because I wanted some of the sweet sweet smell of your energy to permeate me, I know you don't remember it because of the euphoria of your fanaticism." He lets out a chuckle. "I haven't let anyone touch me in years and you're the only one to do it again after that day."

Incredulous and short of words you stare at him, stare at him and stare at him again, blinking as if you have all the time in the world to admire him, the sound of the rain pattering against the window competing with the drum that is your heart. Your mouth opens and closes a couple of times before you realize you don't know what to say. Satoru's cheeks are painted red and you've never stopped to feel the effect being near him has on you. 

You push your body close, intoxicated from the moment until your mouth finds his. Warm air seeps out of his mouth in the form of a gasp and reaches your tongue, you have to part your mouth further to let it in and swallow his gasps. 

Tentatively you deposit a kiss on his lips and he growls, you feel his fingers squeeze the fabric of your shirt and grip your skin. Unable to hold you another second not knowing how it would feel to kiss him you join in a slow kiss, you are surprised by the way he uses his tongue to lick your upper lip and touch the tip of yours only to pull back and place a hand behind the back of your neck allowing him to taste you better. 

Your journey with Satoru had been strange. You were his admirer —c'mon, you never stopped being one— then his co-worker and finally his friend. At some point you buried your feelings because you were too busy working on getting better and stronger to earn the place to stand and fight by his side, to earn the respect of the elders, you were sure nothing was going to happen between the two of you. You convinced yourself that you were happy with his friendship and the support that being close to him gave you, it was safe and it felt real... just like this moment. 

Satoru's hands were on your back, then under your shirt directly touching your skin. His fingertips were ice cubes that bristled your flesh, traveling in a sort of massage in all directions as you continued a slow dance, drowning out your mewls with rain and each other's lips. 

When Satoru finally breaks away your lips were slightly swollen, red, the same color as his. There was a dreamy look on your face that you hid by closing your eyelids and biting your lower lip, when you opened them you found that he was still there, hiding behind those sunglasses not really knowing what he was thinking but it was real, he really was here. At least you were sure that had really happened. 

"This thing that just happened," you say, trying to catch your breath. "It won't change my mind about quitting, I hope you know that." 

Satoru snorts a chuckle. 

"We can try a second time." You allow him to move closer to you again, his head cocked to the side taking hold of your lips, sinking his teeth into these. "Or a third." He gives them a little lick. "Or all night, I'm very persistent." 

You join in a shy giggle you both share. Satoru fixes his back and withdraws his hands out of your shirt and you almost miss them immediately, these are now on your face, cradling your cheeks and carving away the tears that managed to spill. 

"I care about you." 

"I know." You sob, your cheeks burning. 

"And I'll be there tomorrow for you and to face any punishment with you," he speaks sweetly, pausing briefly. "You know they don't have to mess with me, though. I'd destroy them in a second for you." Ah, there was the Satoru you knew. 

He leans in once more to kiss you and you think you could get used to this. 

"Should I leave?" he murmurs against your lips. 

"Stay," you say, your knees trembling from the closeness. "I too... I like you too." 

"Oh, I never said I liked you." Satoru smiles mischievously. You shoot him a dagger-filled glare along with a frown that gradually relaxes. 

"Thank you for being here," you sigh. 

"Thanks for letting me do it."

I still can't believe I wrote so much for something that isn't smut, sobs. But I've realized how much fun it is to write different genres and I can't stop. I was going to say something else but totally forgot lolol maybe I'll edit this later.

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

FEEDING ON YOU 👅 EUSTASS KIDD X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 13: FACESITTING

🐙 requested by: @fancy-goldie 💖 Hii!! For kinktober 24 might i request eustass kid for day 13 with a female reader, adding maybe a praise kink for both. Thx you so much. ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. face riding Kidd, oral, dick riding. 🐙 wc: 700w // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

Chin covered in juicy honeys; red nails carved on your hip. Tongue going crazy, in and out of you; in and out, and around, up and down.

“If I could- mngh- I would only- mghj- drink from your cunt” he communicates the best he can, as he is muzzled by your femininity.

Kidd, whose delicacy has never been present, has snatched your body to finally sit on his face. He didn’t even bother to ask you, because he knows he can use your body as much as he pleases… that man is crazy for your flavour, for your scent and your flesh.

You can only moan in response; mind going blank, body trembling and spasming to his desperate tongue motions.

A single arm is enough to keep you on top of his façade, as his back rests on the bed. A bed that has already wet sheets, dampened in sweat and uncontrollable orgasms he has given you. Nights with Eustass Kidd are always extreme sports.

And, indeed, like an extreme sport, your body only relays on his arm to keep you still while humping on his face.

At first, you worried for his oxygen intake; However, Kidd didn’t care in the slightest… to him breathing isn’t important, your core can keep him alive as much as he wishes for.

Yet, this man wanted to watch your face, and your breasts bounce as he eats you out. Not because he didn’t enjoy the look of your ass and small of your back on top of him, but your orgasmic expression can cause him to explode without even touching himself.

As strong as he is, Kidd proceeds to lift you up just a little to order you to turn around. He scoffs, as even detached from his mouth your hips can’t stop moving on their own. Back and forth motions that shows how your body begs for yet another climax.

“I see how much you like this… why don’t you ride me?” he laughs, lifting his arm so you can grip tightly to it.

Your fingers interlock on his, perfect surface to ride his face with even more violence. Your thighs squeeze his cheeks before letting your hips to fall upon his deviated nose and smeared red lipstick lips.

When you do, Kidd’s hip buck up. It’s almost unconscious… that poor man, he is desperate for relief.

Red eyes like fire light up as you begin to move, it’s all a wet sloppy mess. The sound of skin slapping and sopping surfaces makes it even nastier, even better.

Like you were jumping on his dick, you do on his tongue. Delicious sensation that makes you even more aroused, a vicious circle of pleasure and lust that auto fans the flames.

You end up grabbing a fistful of his red hair, also wet as it is covered in sweat -and maybe your fluids too-, to move even more brutally. Back and forth, feeling like an itchy feeling turns in fireworks on your core.

“I’m com-coming…” you stutter, going faster the more you feel like you are on the brink of maximum pleasure.

Kidd can’t speak, but his eyes show how amazed and desperate for you to keep going he is. Your whines are making him create a puddle of precum right under him, the transparent arousal that oozes from his sex, has left a trail from his gland to his balls and into the perineum. It makes that man to fidget underneath you, as if a single touch would push him to go down that brink of climax with you.

When you finally do, covering him with even more produces of your orgasm, he also grunts underneath you. Kidd lifts his hips so much you almost fall, but you definitely get his body’s message… “touch me, please”

“I’m sorry I have neglected you from pleasure…” you apologize, as you immediately jump back and instead of just jerking him off, it is your sex engulfs his desperate dick.

ㅤㅤㅤ “See? You are my favourite whore for a reason ~”

taglist of amazing people 💖 - @terrabear2003 - @eyes-ofhell - @cokou - @seoul-is-a-dream - @tinydonkeysforlife - @appalost - @themessedupsonata - @adamsfanficstash - @votaeto - @pixiebro - @ariesbbytings - @animesnowstorm - @lenablack9919 - @anothersoulless

[mybelovedwoo]

Boyfriend hongjoong or mingi PLEASE?

Thank u so much for your request! I will do Hongjoong now as he was the first one you wrote, but I will do Mingi in the future too!!

kim hongjoong as boyfriend - headcanon

headcanon, romance, fluff, smut

gn!reader x bf!atz

wc. ~0.8k

an: you can request headcanons if you want to (please only headcanons)!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

-the always admires you from far away type of boyfriend

-like he always has such heart eyes for you whenever you go somewhere together, you are talking about something in a group setting, he always listens to your every word carefully, he never disappoints you, or he sees how good you're getting along with his members, he smiles at you with that lovesick smile of his

-but sometimes he can get a little jealous too, we know he's an extreme scorpio, like is anyone surprised honestly?

-probably spends most of his time at the studio, but doesn't mind when you accompany him, indeed loves it, he can get a little distracted with your presence sometimes tho

-you always feel so special, because you're the first person to hear some songs of his, in return, you always try to encourage him and tell him how amazing of a producer and songwriter he is (it's not a lie)

-after he is done working in the studio, he usually takes you out for dinner, refuses you to pay for anything, and gets mad when you tell him that you want to pay this time

-you would think he is not much of a fan of physical affection, but it's so different with you, the only place he wouldn't give you that much of it is in public places and in front of his friends and family

-he would hold your hands wherever you go, occasionally he raises yours to his mouth and gives it a quick peck, so you can feel his love even when you're in public

-you wouldn't know this, but he likes to brag about you, telling his friends how wonderful his significant other is

-very protective of you, because he thinks you are his treasure. he would dead-stare everyone who would even look at your way

-would think about your future together, and moving in with you the first month of dating, but would never actually tell you, because he doesn't want to scare you off or something

-his biggest fear is that he can't show you how much he loves you. if he can see any doubt or insecurity, he will reassure you with the most meaningful words and wouldn't ever leave your side in a moment like this

-you two often joke around with "being mean" to each other. it's just you guys' thing. he is definitely into it when you are being mean to him

-always asks you to paint his nails, and he always does the same for you. picking out the colors for each other. also picks out the other's outfit just for fun, but ends up changing the whole thing because it "wasn't him"

-the type of boyfriend that would give you his jacket, saying he isn't cold, but would actually be freezing

-he brings you home little gifts from everywhere he goes around the world, saying "I had to buy it, it reminded me of you baby"

-would stare straight into your eyes before he kisses you, holds your face with one hand at your jaw. also the first thing he does is kiss you every time you two wake up together in the morning, he thinks it's really important and the best way to start the day

nsfw +18!!!

-okay hear me out he is a very emotional lover and sometimes he can get carried away by his feelings, but he is definitely a dom in the bedroom, not a hard dom, but not a soft dom (you know what I mean)

-he prefers intense sex, where can get everything out of his head, and the bedroom is the safest place for him to share it with the person he loves the most, he desires passion and intimacy

-doesn't mind trying out new things, as long as you are okay with it too, very open and adventurous

-his biggest turn-on is direct eye contact I'm telling you, this boy is a sucker for it. he loves how he can see every emotion on your face, it is very intimate and vulnerable for him 

-biggest turn off probably power play, he just doesn't like it when somebody is trying to control him, and probably everything that involves pain

-i feel like hongjoong would be very vocal in bed, sometimes having full-on conversations with you, and also even dirty talk, but only in a loving way, he would never be mean to you in such a vulnerable moment

-this man's sex drive is high af, you would have sex at least four times a week, but it's probably more than that, to be honest, literally doing it in every part of the house, in the kitchen, bathroom, living room, on the floor, literally everywhere

-so for positions, i think he would love a classic missionary where he can keep that eye contact but would love a good flatiron where he is doing you from behind but still stays close to you, also one of his favorites would be just scooping you up from behind, just cuddling up and kissing your face all over

-he would get all sleepy after sex, so he forgets aftercare sometimes, he just falls asleep with you in his arms (who would blame this man, he works too hard)

[eventinelysplayground]

A Sleeping Rabbit

There was a post a bit back by @ichgakr01270910 wondering about Chevaliers pov for Chapter 10 and if there was a fanfic out. I don't know if there was one but I got inspired by the post and wrote this. This was also the highest voted WIP in my recent poll. This pulls from not only Chevaliers route but also his episode 0 story, as always don't have to have read the extra bit to enjoy this fic. Emma's fallen asleep in Chevaliers room causing him to think of his past again. WC approx 940 also tagging @aquagirl1978 and @kraiyne because they were interested in this topic as well.

Ridiculous

Chevalier scoffed in disapproval as he peered down at Emma's face while she lay sleeping peacefully in his arms.

Not even that woman was foolish enough to allow herself to fall asleep in my presence.

“Did I not just warn you simpleton?”

Chevalier did not expect a reply to his question.

‘Prove here and now that you have enough of a brain packed into that small head of yours to defend yourself.’

For a frightened rabbit it was a creative idea and proves she is at least capable of thinking under unfavorable circumstances. As foolish as the position of Belle is, it would be an annoyance to have to restart the process from the beginning if any harm were to befall her.

Chevalier went to move but just as he did Emma snuggled closer to him letting out a contented sigh. The warmth from her body seeped through into his own and although an unfamiliar feeling Chevalier found that it was not entirely unwelcome.

You not only fall asleep in the arms of the Brutal Beast but you would willingly move further into his clutches? How foolish can no… wait.

‘Prince Chevalier, you're not a beast- you're a person.’

These actions are not from foolishness but your misguided belief that I am a person.

Chevalier had truly been stunned when Emma had made her declaration that he was indeed a person.

I have been accused of being many things but a person was never one of them, yet this simpleton declares me to be one without hesitation. Even that woman knew I was a beast…

‘You’ll never be loved by anyone.’

'Why is that?'

'Because you're a beast without a human heart.'

Chevalier let out a disgusted sigh. He moved more cautiously this time and managed to remove himself from his bed and Emma.

I shall have someone fetch her mutt and have him carry her back to her room.

Chevalier strode over to the door but stopped short, his hand hovering above the handle. It was not like him to hesitate and yet he found himself doing just that.

It is late if she is seen being carried from my room that will only further fan the flames of these ridiculous rumors. Yet if my fool of a brother were to find her here in the morning, the rumors will be ‘confirmed’ and lead to a tiresome and pointless conversation with four eyes.

After what seemed to be a long deliberation Chevalier withdrew his hand from its place above the door handle, turning around to study Emma for a moment.

She has already meddled enough in these matters that there is no escape for her now and there are ways I can use these rumors to my advantage.

That was the rationalization that Chevalier used for his actions; however even as he stood there he was aware that his actions were only creating more work for himself and putting Belle at greater risk. Yet even knowing that he found himself pushing that knowledge away in favor of keeping her by his side.

At least her knowledge of books is proving to be useful.

Chevalier reached down to the books on his desk that had originally brought Emma to his room. He picked one at random and returned to his bed, settling himself awkwardly if not carefully beside Emma. After a while Chevalier found her soft rhythmic breathing drawing his attention more so than the book he had chosen.

Curious.

Chevalier hesitantly reached down and tentatively ran his fingers over her hair, it was soft to the touch and smelled faintly of citrus and roses. Emma suddenly stirred under his hand letting out a contented sigh and Chevalier removed his hand from her hair. He attempted to return to his book however he quickly gave up as his thoughts continued to wander.

This is nonsense, why am I wasting valuable time with such senseless actions? After all

‘Because…because it's unnatural to be so calm about it! Neither the King nor I can find it in ourselves to love you any longer. As long as you don't know what love is, you'll remain a beast forever.’

Nothing has changed since then, I have always been the Brutal Beast. But perhaps…

‘I won't argue that you can be as cruel and merciless as a beast. However, I don't think that's all you are.’

Chevalier lay back down on his side in bed with Emma's back to him. His eyebrows knit together in concentration and his ice blue eyes were filled with a forgotten longing.

Perhaps this simpleton truly is capable of seeing deeper, into the very essence of a beast? That first day in town she faced me directly and didn't avert her gaze even when I drew my sword on her.

Although there were no assassin's in his room tonight, Chevalier still fought. As he stared down at Emma the fight played out within his icy eyes. Just like against a physical opponent the fight ended quickly however there was no clear victor in this fight and Chevalier sighed.

No, it is more likely she has been influenced by all the romantic tales she has read and her simple life. Once she has spent more time in the palace she will see there is no value to emotions or attachments, especially to a beast.

Despite his carefully crafted thoughts, Chevaliers body betrayed him. He pulled Emma tightly to his chest as carefully as he could manage and held her there, her warmth seeping into him and continuing to thaw the coldness it found inside as he drifted off to sleep.

[k-slla]

You'll forever be my always

A/N: So this was supposed to be posted for Valentine's day, but here we are, almost week later😅

This also turned out differently than I had initially planned, but I still hope you'll like it! 🩷

Big big thanks to @nescavaneck for helping me choose the song for this fic! 🤍

Warnings: smut, bit of language, food foreplay (nothing major, just a little cream and cake), fluff and that's it I think

WC: 2.6k | My Masterlist

All mistakes are mine!

You had a plan. An ironclad plan to make Dean love Valentine's day. You were 99% percent sure that it would work, because Dean loves you and Dean loves food. Maybe even a bit more than he loves you. He had done some shady things for a piece of pie before that you'd rather try and forget. But right now he was not a fan of the aforementioned holiday and you wanted to change that.

Everything had been set already in the Dean cave - you tried to create a romantic atmosphere with small string lights and a couple of candles and you even put on some music in the background.

You kept it simple and light on the food side, since you weren’t really sure how Dean would react to this and you still wished to get to the “main course” later on without feeling too full - so onto the table you had chosen strawberries & whipped cream, mini raspberry cupcakes and finally couple of mini champagne bottles. It was still a night of celebration.

Sam had agreed beforehand to leave you two alone in the Bunker and went to a motel nearby. You felt bad about driving him out, but you knew you couldn't fully let yourself go, knowing that Sam was home. So he was just dropping Dean off after the hunt before leaving.

You had just gotten changed into your dark red lingerie and a matching robe and were waiting for Dean to come home, when you heard the door close with a loud thud.

“Y/N? Where are you?” Heavy stomps followed his call-outs for you. You knew he'd check for you first in your bedroom, so you left there a little note “follow the kisses” and lead the way across the Bunker with Hershey's kisses to the room, where you were waiting for him with all the desserts. You knew it was cheesy, but that's what tonight was all about. After a little time, you heard Dean getting closer to you.

The anticipation was sky high as he stood on the door, eyes darkening with immediate desire as he saw you half-naked on the plush carpet. “I thought we agreed..” he started protesting, but you cut him off quickly. “I know, babe, but I still wanted to do this for you. Us. It's for both of us.” You said with a sweet smile on your lips. “It's nothing much, just some snacks.”

He looked around the room, biting his lip, before throwing the bag off his shoulder before lunging towards you, pushing you down to the floor. He hovered above you, eyes running all over your body. “You are a snack, Y/N.” You bursted out laughing. “You're so cheesy.” He lowered himself down, catching your mouth into a slow, sensuous kiss, making you dizzy immediately. When he finally pulled away, you felt like you could breathe again. “Yeah, but you love it.”

You smiled up at him widely. “I do.”

He looked at the table you had set up, clearly planning something for you, or more rather for himself. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he pulled open your robe, revealing your lacy lingerie. Goosebumps traveled along your body with his fingers moving over your breasts, pulling down the thin fabric covering them and squeezed lightly. “Hmm…a snack indeed. And all..” he kissed your left breast. “For me.” Soft pecks landed on the other. He really wasn't wasting his time.

Humming quietly, he reached for the whipped cream on the table, picked up a dollop with his finger and smeared it onto your nipples. A devilish grin appeared on his face as he slowly moved down, nibbling and sucking on your skin on his way to lick the cream away. “You're so beautiful, baby.” Lewd moans escaped from you as his tongue circled on your breasts. With a sigh you raised yourself up onto your elbows. “Dean..oh, fuck!” A quick bite from him, sent a surge of arousal straight through your core, making you arch your back reactively. “Dean..” you tried to speak again. “You're wearing too many clothes.” He didn't let him be bothered and continued on sucking on your breasts. You closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling his tongue flick on one nipple while your other tit was messaged by his large palm, cupping it perfectly. “Mmm, but I'm still enjoying my little perfect snacks.” He whispered against your skin.

You locked your fingers into his hair and yanked him up from you, making him grunt. Looking straight into his eyes, you smiled and locked your legs around his hips, quickly turning yourself over, so you'd be straddling him instead. You hovered above his face, whispering close to his lips. “You had your snack.” He had them parted, waiting for the kiss, but you moved down to his neck instead. “But now it's my turn.” Your lips were softly brushing against the sensitive spot under his ear. Without breaking the kisses, your hands started to blindly unbutton his shirt. Getting the final button opened, you sat up in his lap, quickly ordering him to remove his flannel and the t-shirt underneath it, before you moved onto his pants, removing them, but leaving his underwear on. “Shirts, off.” Dean pulled you into a heated kiss, before following your orders. As soon as there was nothing but his boxers left on him, you pushed him to lay back back down on the carpet.

You sucked on his bottom lip hard before slowly moving downwards on his neck and chest leaving a hot trail of kisses on his body. His breathing got deeper the more down you moved.

But you took your time, kissing every inch of him before stopping at the waistband of his boxers. You looked up at him and watched the muscles in his neck strain before lowering yourself down again to peck his erection lightly through the thin fabric of his underwear. “Fuck..you're such a tease, babe.” He said, slowly exhaling as you moved back up to his face. “Mmm, I know...” You kissed him softly and whispered against his lips. “But you love it.”

“I do.” He pulled you back into the kiss.

You sat back up on top of him and your lips curled into a lopsided smile, when you reached out for the champagne bottle. You saw Dean's eyes, darkened with lust, following your every move as he laid there under you. You popped it open and took a swig. “I need a taste of that.” Dean sat up, but put his arms around to keep you in his lap. Just one look at him and you could feel yourself flooding with arousal, pure carnal need for him clouding your mind. He didn't even have to do anything, that was almost like your default setting around him. Aroused and needy for his touch. Dean didn't break your eye contact when he took the bottle from you. “Open up. Don't swallow.”

“Don't swallow? First time I've heard that from you.” Your laugh turned quickly into a mewl when he pinched your nipple. “Hey, don't sass with me.”

You then happily complied and opened up. He poured a little Champagne into your mouth and pulled you into a sensuous kiss, relishing the taste of it he got from your tongue. It dripped down on your chin, but Dean quickly licked it off, not letting anything go to waste.

Both of your hands were roaming all over each other. Dean's fingers dug deep into your hips, holding you in place while he slowly started to move his hips back and forth. “Oh, fuck..” You moaned loudly and pulled on his hair, while his cock pressed against the drenched lace between your legs. “Mmm, Dean..” You panted out heavily. “I want to say “fuck the foreplay”, but eating the cupcake off you, sounds just so divine. But..aah..fuck..” you couldn’t decide whether to keep going or whether to tell him to just fuck you right there. “There's no rush..We have the whole night.” He whispered softly against your neck, his warm breaths lingering on your skin.

You picked up a cupcake from the table and turned Dean's face up from your neck. “Mm.. cake it is then.” You bit your lip and gently pushed him back down to the floor. He looked at you, waiting for your next moves. With a playful look on your eyes, you started to break off small pieces of the cake, leaving them on various spots on Dean's body. A little piece under his jaw, on his chest. “It's cold, babe!” He laughed as watched you move downwards. “Mm, I'll take care of it in a second.” You kissed his stomach before smearing a little frosting just above his navel. With a low hum, you added little pieces onto his hips, where soft v ran down to his pelvis.

You sat up in his lap, admiring him covered in pink frosting, eyes sparkling with anticipation. You felt like a kid in a candy store, unable to contain a happy squeal. “Mmm..you look just scrumptious! Want a little taste of that?” Your eyes found Dean's as he nodded eagerly begging you to feed him. “Yes, baby, give it to me.” He breathed out heavily as his eyes followed your finger breaking off another piece.

You decided to tease him again and lifted your finger up to your own mouth with intention to lick it clean yourself, but Dean suddenly grabbed your arm. “Uh-uh. Not letting you do this to me this time.” He pulled your hand towards him. His eyes never left yours when he slowly closed his lips around you, sucking and moaning loudly at the same time. “Mmm.. that is delicious.”

You smiled as he lowered himself back to the floor, watching you move onto his neck. Dean’s sighs and low groans made you feel the arousal pooling between your legs, wanting nothing more than him just to take you right there. To make love to him like he deserved to be loved. Slowly. Passionately. You felt him tremble slightly under you when you were kissing your way down to his hips to finally sink your teeth playfully into his hips and lick off the frosting. As soon as you pulled away from him, Dean turned you over to pin you under him, again, while he peppered you all over with kisses.

“I love you, Dean.” You murmured into his ear. “So much.” He turned your face back to him to capture your lips. This time the kiss was slower, sweeter, full of love for each other that your words just couldn’t express. “I love you, too, sweetheart.” He locked his green eyes with yours and whispered. “I have to do something.”

There was a sudden shift in the mood when he pulled away and walked to the shelf where you had your phone connected to the Bluetooth speaker. You sat up, looking at him curiously. “Hey, what are you doing?” He typed something into your phone before turning back to you. “You know how much I love you. I try to tell you that every day. But sometimes..” his words trailed off. Dean reached for your hand, to pull you up from the floor. He suddenly seemed so nervous. So vulnerable. Dean kept his eyes down on your hands linked together.

“Sometimes I have a hard time telling you what I see for us in the years to come. And I want you, Y/N. I want us to grow old together. As long as our hunter life allows us. That's all.. That's just all I've ever wanted. To have you next to me.” He continued softly and finally looked up at you. “I think this song gives you a better idea.”

“You're going to make me cry, Dean.” You said, listening to the song he had chosen.

I see forever when I look in your eyes

You're all I've ever wanted

I always want you to be mine

Let's make a promise ‘til the end of time

We'll always be together

And our love will never die

You and Dean hadn't really talked about your future together before. You were taking just one day at a time. But seeing Dean open up to you now..it just really meant the world. Both of you were only in your thirties, but even that was so much longer than you both had expected to have. You would've never thought that you'd find someone who loved you for who you were. A hunter - never fully healed from everything that you'd gone through in your childhood. But that's who Dean was, too. Just as broken and messed up as you.

He deserves to be happy. You deserve to be happy. And you knew that as long as you're together, you will be the happiest you could ever be.

What you had planned to be a fun, messy date night, had turned out to be something so much more powerful. You were not expecting to end up crying in front of him. That's what made it perfect though. That openness with each other where you didn't have to hide your feelings, emotions, tears that were brought to your eyes from his declaration.

“Dean..I-” you sniffled. “I love you so much. We have a lot to talk about our future, but I know one thing. I want to spend it together. You are the only person who I could ever imagine next to me. Only one who I'd want next to me.”

You stood up on your toes and kissed him again. Dean's hands rested on your hips as you stood still in the room, in each other's embrace, surrounded by the melody of the song. He lifted you up in his arms and instinctively you locked your legs around his hips. Dean started to walk out of the room.

“Where are we going?” You asked between the kisses.

He took some turns in the hallway and you saw where he was leading you. “I'm taking you to bed.” He broke the kiss quickly. “Not that I wouldn't have loved having sex with you in there, but the cave? That's just for quick fuck. I'm going to make love to you.” You laughed at his bluntness, but he just continued. “I'm going to show you how much you mean to me. How much I really love you. Over and over and over..” He murmured into the kiss again.

Dean opened your bedroom door with one hand and walked inside. Sofly he placed you onto the bed, your head comfortably resting on the pillows, hair fanned out. Your breaths got caught for the short moment you and Dean were apart, both of you taking each other in, inch by inch, running your eyes all over each other. Not wanting to spend another second away from you, he climbed back to the bed, closing the distance between your lips.

The way you both spent it exploring each other's bodies made it feel like your first night over again with Dean. But at the same time you both already knew how to get one another to the absolute peak.

All through the night you got lost in each other's embrace, letting the desire, passion and your love for each take over your minds over and over again until the early morning hours. When you finally snuggled closer to him, entangling your legs, holding Dean as close as possible when you slowly fell asleep in each other's arms, feeling happy and loved, both of you knew it would last longer than just for the night.

Tags: @jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @alternativeprincess94 @il0vebeingdelulu @suckitands33 @nescavaneck

[rottenpumpkin13]

So how did the Firsts setting Lazard up on a date go? You mentioned it in an old post, and I'm curious.

Malicious Non-Compliance

wc: 3291

desc: The boys set Lazard up on a date and just have to tag along—in disguise, that is.

n: I used this as a prompt, I hope you don't mind me answering like this!

Zack kept both of his legs propped up on the chair, bracing his chin in the crook of his joint knees. A wad of fanned-out cards between his fingers met his attention. He sniffed, scrunching his eyebrows together. 

“Think, Zack, think!” He muttered to himself.

The audible frustration stretched the smile on his opponent’s face. Sephiroth kept his cards facing him with one hand, using the other to drum his fingers on the table, a rhythmic reminder that time did indeed pass in the Corporate Archives, no matter what the stubbornly broken clock on the table told them. 

Zack groaned softly, snapping his head up to meet Sephiroth’s expectant flick of his eyebrow. 

“Got any twos?” Zack asked. 

Sephiroth shook his head. “Go fish.”

Angeal slammed his hand down on the table. “WE’RE PLAYING UNO!” 

His outburst was bombarded with a wave of shushes from the nearby tables. Angeal tossed his cards, letting them scatter across the table before splaying his hands in surrender. 

“I give up,” he said.

Zack and Sephiroth’s boyish laughter and subsequent high-five marked the moment the Arcive doors squeaked open, letting in a pair of boots that marched purposefully across the floor, kicking the tail of a long coat as they headed straight toward the table. 

Genesis was enraged, and one did not need a magical looking-glass to discern that. The red blotched on his cheeks matched the fiery hue of his tousled hair as he plunked himself on the empty seat beside Zack. 

“Good evening to you too, Commander.” Angeal smiled.

Genesis’ eyes were unblinking and grave as they glared at him. He crossed his arms, opening his mouth purposefully, in a way that told all three men that they were to be subjected to an avalanche of words. 

“Lazard needs a life!” He declared suddenly. “One that doesn’t involve us and certainly has nothing to do with this company!” 

“And you came to this conclusion how?” Sephiroth asked. 

Genesis replied with an annoyed “tch!” as he turned away from him. “He’s not letting me go to LS8!” 

Zack leaned towards Sephiroth’s right. “What’s LS8?” he whispered. 

“Some Loveless thing,” Sephiroth shook his head. 

Genesis snapped his head toward them, steam practically billowing from his nostrils.

“It’s not some Loveless thing!” he spat. “It’s the Loveless thing. It’s the biggest event of the year. All of this year’s cast members are going to be there, and there will be a screening for the new documentary, and everyone who’s anyone will be there!” 

“And you’re not going?” Zack asked. 

“I can't go!” Genesis moaned. “Lazard's keeping me from it because of—” he mimicked quotation marks with his fingers, “—my tendency to act improperly and embarrass the company through alcohol-fueled displays.” 

Angeal's lips were crooked as he swaged his head from side to side. “He kinda has a point, Gen. You, alcohol and these Loveless parties are usually a recipe for disaster.”

“Maybe!” Genesis parried. “But he has no right to keep me from them! I'm an adult and a commanding officer, I can make my own decisions!” 

Zack slumped back in his seat. “You do have a point about Lazard needing a life, though. The man works too much. He needs to have some fun once in a while.” 

“I can't argue with that,” Sephiroth signed. “I frequently cross paths with him at odd hours of the morning. Sometimes it's three AM and he's up working.” 

Angeal jerked his head back. “What are you doing up at three AM?” 

Sephiroth froze. “....Things.” 

“Ooh, ominous!” Zack piped up. 

“Not it's not!” Genesis snapped. “He just has insomnia and likes to prowl around the building like a wraith!” 

Sephiroth looked pleased. “Which you would know because you also have the tendency to galavant about the building at odd hours.” 

Zack raised his hand. “Can confirm. I've seen Genesis break into the training room at 2 AM once!” 

Genesis grazed with him a mocking look. “Puppy, why were you stalking me at 2 AM?”

Zack pouted. “Kunsel told me you teach secret materia classes and the meetings are in the middle of the night.” 

“Gossip and hearsay,” Genesis replied coolly.

“Am I the only one who sleeps around here!?” Angeal snapped.

He began gathering the strewn cards on the table, neatly stacking them together. “But you guys are right. We should do something about it. Give him a break, you know?” 

Genesis stretched his back into an arch. “What he really needs is a date. One night with a pretty girl and he'll soften like butter under the sun.” 

Angeal considered. “It would be nice to know he has someone.” 

“Yeah!” Zack bounced his legs beneath the table—much like a dog wagging its tail. “Can you imagine if Lazard had a girlfriend? He'd let us get away with all sorts of stuff because he'd be too happy to care!” 

Sephiroth looked apprehensive. “This doesn't sound right. I believe the right term for this is meddling?” 

Genesis rolled his eyes. “It's not meddling if we just introduce him to a woman and let fate weave its tapestry.”

“Alright,” Sephiroth braced his head on his palms. “Who?” 

Angeal had known his best friend long enough to know that Genesis' unsettling grin was the calm before any storm. 

The redhead crossed his legs, looking off to the side. 

“Don't worry. I have someone in mind.” 

Director Lazard sits in his office the next day with a chip on his shoulder and a stack of bullshitted Second Class mission reports by his side. He's tempted to chalk up the incompetence to the typical end-of-the-year slog. 

But the colorful text on the mission report in his hand at that moment made it impossible. 

He sighed, placing the document down and reaching over for his notepad, where he proceeded to jot down a few words. 

“Note to self,” he wrote, “confiscate Zack's crayons.”

The glass doors of his office slid open, giving way to Genesis' pompous and irrepressible vibrancy that morning. He marched in with a smile on his face. 

“Director, you're going to love me!” 

Lazard didn't bother looking up from his writing. “Flattered as I am by your advances, Genesis, I prefer the company of women.”

“Tch!” Genesis pooped himself down on the opposite chair. “Funny you should say that! Do you perhaps know Meg from Urban Development?” 

Lazard slid his glasses back onto his nose bridge. “Reeve's assistant.”

“Yeah, her! We got to chatting yesterday, and she couldn't help but mention how charming, sophisticated, and attractive she finds you.” 

Lazard's immediate slack jaw was a promising response to Genesis. He found satisfaction in the way the director was rendered speechless by the prospect, his cheeks blotted with red. 

“Did she…really say that?” 

Genesis nodded eagerly. “She did! So I've taken the liberty of setting you up on a date tonight. You're welcome.”

Lazard frowned. “Tonight? Oh, no. Tonight won't do. I've got too much to do. Some files in the data room have gone missing and I'm the one who must see to it.”

Genesis swung his legs over the arm of the chair, leaning back with a purposefully dramatic and drawn-out sigh.

“What a shame. Oh well, I suppose Rufus will be happy to hear that.”

“Rufus?” Lazard echoed. “Shinra? 

“Him,” Genesis folded his arms across his chest. “I hear he's got the eyes for Meg. He's been dying to take her out, but she's been waiting for you to ask her instead. A tragedy, I say. A modern-day soap opera plot. Ah well, I suppose she'll have to settle for the Vice President instead.”

Genesis' crooked tactic worked like a charm. 

Lazard chewed his bottom lip, his eyebrows scrunching together in a way that told Genesis that the older man was seriously pondering over it. 

“I can…I can postpone a task—just this once!” he added quickly. “It would be rude to cancel a date, after all.” 

Genesis stood up at once, so pleased it oozed from every pore on his grinning face. “Good! I'll make sure to email you the details in a bit. Have fun tonight, Director!” 

Genesis left the office, stepping out in the hallway and pulling his phone out. “And this is the part where I tell Sephiroth I told you so—OW!” 

An object hit him right in the eye. His hand shot up to cover it, the other eye furiously searching for the source of the attack. A lone, purple crayon rolled by his feet. 

He turned to see an ongoing scuffle between Angeal and Zack down the hallway. Angeal tried his best to wrestle away a box of scented crayons from Zack's grasp. 

“Let go!” Zack whined. “I promise I won't use them anymore!”

“No!” Angeal yelled back. “Not until you tell me where the blueberry-scented one is!” 

Zack let himself go limp in Angeal's grasp, his face reddening as he avoided the other man's eyes entirely. 

“Did you eat it, Zack!? You ate it, didn't you!?” 

Zack squeezed his eyes shut. “You can't prove anything!”

“OH MY GOD!” 

Genesis rolled his eyes, choosing to walk away instead of witnessing their debacle. 

The Cinnamon Veil was an upscale restaurant in the glitzy area of Sector Seven. The sidewalk outside the bustling establishment was heaving with people, overtaken by a line that wrapped around the building.

Couples stood with their arms linked, common people bedecked themselves in finery and their best clothes, and amidst the excitable crowd ...Was Angeal wearing a fake mustache. 

“I gotta admit,” he said, stroking the faux facial hair pensively. “When I previously imagined my Friday night, being married to Genesis was not in my plans.” 

Beside him, Genesis adjusted his pencil skirt. His large sunglasses teased the vibrant eye makeup beneath, which complimented his rosy lips. 

“Oh, hush!” Genesis smoothed his hair. “And put your arms around me, we’re supposed to be a couple!”

“And what do I do?” Sephiroth’s voice cut in. 

Behind them, Sephiroth had been forced into a black T-shirt of a heavy metal band he did not know, eyeliner that stung his waterlines, along with jewelry and fake piercings. A pair of aqua-blue contacts concealed his infamous eyes. 

“You’re already doing your part, darling.” Genesis placed his sunglasses on his head. “You’re our rebellious, teenage son. Now stand there and act displeased with our family outing.” 

Sephiroth crossed his arms, frowning pointedly. “Understood.”

Angeal and Genesis turned around, looking for any sign of Lazard and Reeve’s assistant, Meg.

Sephiroth piped up again. 

“I'm a homosexual.”

Angeal and Genesis snapped back around on cue. 

Sephiroth shrugged.

“What? My research tells me that a child revealing their sexual orientation to their parental figures causes a strain in their relationship. It can’t get more rebellious than that.” 

“Seph,” Angeal huffed. “Were you dropped on your head as a baby?” 

“Yes, several times.”

Angeal and Genesis elected not to respond, slowly turning back around again. Angeal spotted a head of sandy blond hair a few spaces ahead of them. 

“Look!” He pointed. “There he is!”

Lazard looked positively radiant as he and Meg talked. Genesis marveled at how stunning of a pair they made, thanking no one but himself for the brilliant start to a courtship, of course. The conversation flowed naturally, and none of them had ever seen Lazard so at ease.  

“Aren’t I a genius?” Genesis sighed. “You’ll see. Soon enough, Lazard will be out of our hair and you’ll all be praising me.”

Angeal scratched his fake mustache. “If everything goes smoothly, that is.”

“I want to be held,” Sephiroth said suddenly. 

Angeal and Genesis whipped back around. 

Sephiroth was unbothered. “I've never had parents before,” he said. “I don’t know how to act.”

Once they were inside the restaurant, they were ushered to their table. Genesis had made sure to book one right across from Lazard and Meg’s, giving them the most optimal view of their date. 

“I don’t know about this, Gen,” Angeal muttered, settling into his seat. “Spying makes me uncomfortable. We’re invading his privacy.”

“No,” Genesis corrected him. “We’re making sure Lazard doesn’t blow his chance at love.” 

“May I have ice cream for dinner?” Sephiroth asked, thumbing through the menu.

“You can have ice cream for dessert.” Angeal rubbed his temples. “Where’s the waiter?” 

As if on cue, a waiter—literally—slid in from their left, his polished shoes squeaking on the floor as he posed. 

“Right here!” He flashed them a winning grin. 

One curious fact about The Cinnamon Veil was that all of their waiters were required to wear a tawny mask as a part of their uniform—hence the veil. And yet, even a mask was no efficient cover for Zack’s notorious, black spikes and the telling glow of Mako eyes. 

“Zack!?” All three of them sputtered in unison.  

The Second looked pleased, proudly showing off his vest and bowtie. He placed the pen to his notepad and cleared his throat. 

“I’m Zack and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you started on the seared scallops? The sole meunière? Or perhaps some ice cream for the kid!”

Genesis’ lips were pressed into a thin line. “What are you doing?” he scolded. “You’re going to ruin everything!” 

Zack pouted. “No, I’m not! And F.Y.I., it was mega rude of you to not invite me along.” 

Genesis sunk into his seat. “That’s because this is an undercover affair and you’re the poster boy of conspicuity.”

Angeal gestured toward Sephiroth. “Oh, because emo Sephiroth is pure stealth.”

“It’s not a phase, father,” Sephiroth shot back. 

Angeal pulled a face. 

Zack tucked his pen in the pocket of his apron. “Look, I’m just here to make sure Lazard's date goes well. I want him to be happy just as much as you three, ‘kay? Plus, I hit the jackpot. I’m their server!” 

Genesis sat up straight, the color returning to his face. “Oh! What did he order?

Zack replied with a grimace. “Garlic-fried rice.”

“What?” Genesis slapped his hand on the table. “Oh! That man has no game whatsoever! How is he expected to kiss her good night when his breath smells like garlic!?”

Zack held up a hand. “Don’t worry, I took care of it. I switched his order with someone else’s, so I’ll bring him something else. You know how Lazard it! He hates conflict, so he’ll force himself to eat it.”

Zack opened his notepad. “But anyway. What are you guys having?” 

Sephiroth looked back down at the menu. “What do you recommend? 

“Well, I think—” Zack snapped his head toward another table mid-sentence. “Oh! I gotta jet! I’ll see you in a bit!” 

Zack ran off toward another table and began taking their order instead. Angeal sighed, watching his student from across the dining room. He shook his head. 

“It’s as if his attention span dwindles by the day. He should be glad he’s a SOLDIER. Real-world jobs are not meant for him.”

Something about his friend’s words struck something in Genesis. The redhead snapped his head towards him, frowning pointedly as he looked from Angeal to Zack scurrying back into the kitchen.

“Goddess, ‘Geal, you’re so harsh with him. He’s doing his best, you know.”

Angeal shrugged, turning back around. “I know, and I am proud of him. But I want him to reach his full potential and I think he lacks the focus it takes to reach it.”

Meanwhile, Sephiroth was the only one who noticed Zack sail out of the kitchen again, this time with Lazard and Meg’s orders ready. He had limited knowledge about the culinary arts, but he did know shrimp pasta when he saw it.

And he also knew how much Lazard detested shrimp.

Sephiroth uncrossed his arms, sitting up. “Um, gentlemen?” 

The urgency in Sephiroth’s voice, just like his words, went unnoticed by his friends. 

“Yeah,” Genesis continued. “But sometimes it comes off as you not having faith in him.”

“I do have faith in him,” Angeal pressed, clearly annoyed. “If anything, you’re the one who thinks he’s just some Second Class runt who follows us around.”

Sephiroth couldn’t look away from the car crash unfolding right before his eyes. Zack served Lazard and his date their meals, the former looking quite displeased with his order. But it was just like Zack had said, he wasn’t the confrontational type. 

“Mother?” Sephiroth tried. “Father?”

Angeal and Genesis ignored him. 

“Not true!” Genesis replied, his tone getting more heated by the second. “I adore Zack!”

“Hmm.” Angeal rolled his eyes. “Just like you adore Sephiroth.”

Genesis faked an overdramatic gasp which he emphasized by placing a hand over his heart. “How dare you accuse me of disliking my own child!?”

Meanwhile, Sephiroth watched as Lazard took one bite of his food, then violently spit it back out—right in Meg’s face. Lazard began coughing and spitting food all over the place. Meg’s face was befouled by the bits of shrimp and rice. Her mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

Sephiroth turned back around. 

“Gentlemen, I am begging for one second of your attention.”

“NOT NOW!” Genesis snapped at him. 

“A-HA!” Angeal pointed an accusatory finger at him. “SEE? NO WONDER I'M THE ONE HE COMES TO WHEN HE'S UPSET, GENESIS! YOU’RE A BITCH!” 

“I BEG YOUR PARDON!?” Genesis stood up, making Angeal rise to his feet as well. “TAKING CARE OF HIM IS A JOINT EFFORT, ANGEAL! DON’T UNDERMINE MY PARENTING!”

Meanwhile, Lazard and Megan were actively arguing. Zack tried to work the middle-man role in vain, failing at calming either of them down. 

“Our plan is going down the drain here, men,” Sephiroth said. 

They continued to ignore him. 

“PARENT HIM?” Angeal laughed. “YOU’RE BARELY HIS FRIEND. ALL YOU TWO DO IS  ARGUE BECAUSE YOU PICK FIGHTS!”

Genesis grabbed his coat. “WELL, IF WE’RE SUCH A BURDEN TO YOU, ANGEAL, MAYBE WE SHOULD JUST PACK OUR THINGS AND LEAVE!”

Angeal slammed his fist on the table. “YOU’RE NOT GOING TO LEAVE! I WANT A DIVORCE!”

Sephiroth watched helplessly as Lazard ripped away Zack’s mask. 

“Oh dear,” Sephiroth whispered. 

Sephiroth had heard about the six stages of grief before, and he was almost certain each of them became etched onto Lazard’s face in the span of a single second. Zack awkwardly smiled and waved, which only served as a catalyst to redden the older man’s face and propel his rage.

Sephiroth was nonplussed. “Hm. It appears that, as the youths say, all hell has broken loose.”

Angeal and Genesis persisted in dragging out their squabble. 

“MY MOTHER WARNED ME ABOUT YOU!” Genesis shot back. “YOU KNOW WHAT? SINCE YOU’RE THE BETTER PARENT, KEEP HIM! I’M BETTER OFF ON MY OWN ANYWAY!”

Angeal gasped. “YOU CYNICAL ASSHOLE! YOU WON’T EVEN FIGHT FOR CUSTODY? HOW SELFISH CAN YOU BE?”

Sephiroth flinched once Meg grabbed her drink. She threw it in Lazard’s face before promptly walking off. Then Lazard and Zack began to argue, the former grabbing him by the neck and beginning to shake him.

“I might be witnessing a murder,” Sephiroth said. 

“I DON’T NEED THIS!” Genesis screamed. “I’M LEAVING! I’M DONE!” 

Angeal grabbed his coat. “YEAH, WELL SO AM I!” 

Angeal and Genesis went their opposite ways, leaving Sephiroth to watch the fight escalate by the second. He would’ve been more motivated to step in if Zack were in any real danger. But the sight of Lazard thwacking Zack with his own apron was far too entertaining to intervene. 

He wondered if Angeal and Genesis were watching. 

Sephiroth turned around. 

“...” 

“Mother?”

“...”

“Father?”

“...”

The sounds of Zack getting disciplined in the background persisted (“Ow! I didn’t know!” Thwack! “Director! I swear I didn’t mean to!” Thwack! “Ow!”) Sephiroth slumped down in his seat, disgruntled.

He crossed his arms over his chest. 

“This is just like real life.”

[nelapanela94]

Hi Nela! Do you see post war! Levi falling for someone in Marley in spite of having lost Hanji (hardcore levihan fan here)? I feel the grief would have been a lot, but always hope for him to regain some hope 😔 hope you're ok!!

YES YES YES!!!

Levi was left with a void after the war, but he finds that sapling through the rubble that conveys his hope.

WC: 3k TW: Fluff, post war, self-loath from Levi.

The bearings in his head stuck with a shriek, reheating the engines of his system, and the emergency stop is nowhere to be found. Utter chaos. This is why he never went beyond a good morning and thank you, afraid that he’d turn into a stutter mess, and you end up thinking the war injured his brain as well. He scrapes the dregs in his brain as his last effort to string a sentence. Your question disarmed him; you sent him to war without any weapon, not even a knife.

His mouth opens and close, but he can’t ladle a single word.

“I asked if you wanted to go to the festival with me next Saturday.” You lean over the counter, expectant, glossy lips curved in a beguiling smile. A lock of hair falls over your forehead, and you brush it away, his gaze following your finger as it traces the curve of your ear. “So…” You tilt your head to the side, bat your lashes, moisten your lips.

Levi drinks every single detail.

He gulps, his hands tightening around the push rings. His heart bounces in his ribcage prodding for a way out. It is painful. Physically painful, indeed. The bandages constrict him, and his skin begins to itch. A shiver jolts down his spine, bristling the tiny hairs behind his neck.

Why?

Up to this point he convinced himself that he was cursed. That something was wrong with him, that happiness was out of his reach, that he didn’t deserve good things. Life itself taught him the harsh way that he needed to move cautiously; he raised walls around him. The war left a wound that after eight months still dehisces and burbles. A feeling of emptiness, a lack of purpose. After Hange’s death, inertia is what keeps him rolling.

And now, pretty you is here, before him, asking him out, a force that changes his direction and speed.

Why him? he wonders.

Sentenced to a wheelchair, chopped, and with angry stitches slithering across his face.

Him when there are other men, bolder and confident who tell jokes you laugh at, and brush off petals from your shoulder as an excuse to touch you.

His parted lips tremble; he blinks twice. “S-sure.”

“Great!” Your clap startles him. “I’ll be wearing a blue dress, wear something blue too.” You wink. “Before you ask, it is a date.”

A date.

The Kraft paper rustles as you wrap his weekly order of white lilies. You pull at the spool of jute cord, eye measure and cut. Levi gulps, tugging at the collar of his shirt as his gaze moves around the shop. Bright colors and cheerful displays. Silk arrangements, vibrant potted plants and eclectic giftware festoon the shelves.

How could someone so feisty and vivid settle her eyes on a dim, gray soul as his?  

He presses his lips into a thin line, and takes a deep breath, inhaling the sweetness of greenery, soil, and petals. His eyes and yours lock. “Why did you ask me out?”

That dimpled smile brightens up your beautiful face. “Because time keeps ticking and I wasn’t willing to wait until you dare ask me.”

They must be either shaking their heads or laughing at him.

He sighs, and a meek smile dangles on his lips. You steer around the counter and hand him the bouquet. He pillows it on his lap and peels two banknotes from the thick wad in his wallet.

“Thanks,” he says. You and this place emanate a peace that dandles his turbulence.

You waltz behind the till. The cash drawer springs out, and humming a song, you slip the bills in and pluck his change.

“Thank you for your purchase, Captain Levi.” And he snorts as he puts the coins in the pocket of his shirt.

“Just Levi. Nobody calls me that anymore.”

“Some papers still do.” You tip the head to the side and squint, tapping a finger on your chin.

“What?”

“You look more handsome in person.”

“You’re just trying to get more points.” He lowers his gaze, shakes his head, then meets your eyes again.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” You stretch your arm over the counter, and he reaches out for your hand.

Sparks burst in the air. It feels as if he dropped a match on a pile of tinder, setting your flower shop on fire.

If that was the effect of a handshake, what would be the devastation triggered by a kiss? Or when he and you…?

Yes, he agreed on a date with a girl whose name was a mystery. And yes, he’s already imagined things he can’t say aloud without you accusing him of being a pervert.

“Can I have my hand back?” You giggle, looking at your threaded hands. His eye snaps and his face singes with a hard blush. He let’s go of you, and spins around on his chair.

“Thanks for the flowers.” He mutters, hiding his gaze under the wing of his hat. Whatever spell you cast on him, he silently pleads for you to never break it.

You stride to the door and hold it open for him.

“You’re welcome,” you chime. “I’ll be ready at four.”

 

They say our brains are biologically programmed to remember painful memories better. It’s a way to protect ourselves, to remember something painful so we don’t repeat the same mistakes.

A defense mechanism.

They morph to fear, a fear that helps us survive; the same fear that keeps us from living.

The ringlets screech on the rod as he draws the curtains. The late afternoon light baths the at-home memorial he put together with the badges and bolo ties of his fallen comrades. It’s been keeping him occupied for the past three months after his release from the hospital, and like every Friday, he replaces the etiolated flowers with the new ones and feeds them with fresh water. There’s not much to do, not in his state, and there’s too much time to spare.

The house is large for a single person, but he can move freely on his chair.

He wheels back to the window with a jug of water and plastic cups, places the tray on the side table, and folds his arms over the sill. The match is about to start. Brats spill out of their houses, but the owner of the ball, the most important one, is always the last to arrive. The eldest measure the width of the goal boxes, yelling and wrangling as they settle the stones.

This is why he fought for. For kids to run after a ball, shouting and breaking windows around the neighborhood—hopefully not his—instead of slinging a gun over his shoulders.

He doesn’t grasp the rules yet, even if a team is leading by ten goals, the game is defined by the last. And there’s no referee, how do they tell when a fault is committed? No yellow or red cards.

They run, they kick, they tackle. From time to time, they come to his window to rehydrate.

“Thank you, Mr. Ackerman!”

He tugs a smile. If they go back to their places for water, their mothers won’t let them go out again. An implicit mom rule.

“You’re in a good mood today.” David tucks an elbow on the windowsill. He guzzles to the last drop and hands the cup back for a refill, wiping his mouth with the hem of his t-shirt. He’s thirteen with the brains of an adult. “The flower girl, did you ask her out and she said yes?”

Levi eyes him and frowns.

“She invited me to a festival next week.” Levi confesses as a tinge of red grazes his cheeks.

“I’d like to be so lucky and have a girl asking me out. I told you.” He waves a finger. “She liked you liked you.”

The ravenette crosses his arms and rolls the eyes. “Yes, you were right, now get off my window, brat.”

“Her favorite flowers are tulips,” The blue-eyed boy says, pulling a lopsided grin.

A black, thin eyebrow flashes up. “How do you know that?”

David shrugs. “You can get a lot of information just by asking.” he slips his hands under his armpits and lifts his chin. “You don’t have to thank me.”

Right. Ask first, then torture.

Levi grumbles and drops his pride. “What else do you know?”

Glass shatters, and the boys vamoose. In seconds they empty the street. David shared a little, but enough, and Levi closes the windows. If anyone asks, he saw nothing.

*

Levi gels his hair back, but a stubborn lock doesn’t want to stick, and he gives up. Clad in khaki slacks and a baby blue button up. He rolls the sleeves to the elbows and bend to tie the shoelaces.

The sun warms its realm at full splendor in a clear, cerulean blue sky. He sprays himself in his favorite fragrance and examines his reflection one last time. He heaves a sigh; there’s not much he can do anyway.

Levi’s never been a shallow person, but the remnants of war chiseled forever in his skin have squished his confidence.

Twenty tulips and a box of truffles filled with peanut butter ganache. He locks his front door and hits the streets, David, from across the street greets with a military salutation. Then, he hurls his thumbs skyward with approval.

The flower shop is in the neighborhood, a ten-minute wheelchair ride, two red lights, five zebra crossings.

Anticipation grows inside of him in form of tickles in his hands and chest as if someone has unleashed a swarm of bees inside him. With each turn of the wheels, that feeling builds up, flush that fans from his lower belly all the way to his face. A sensation new to him, both frightening and exciting; something that muddles his thoughts and soothes his soul.

He turns left at the last corner, and you’re standing before the shop, rocking on your heels, your hands clasp at the handle of your tote bag. You snap your face toward him and a wide smile spreads across your face. Levi swallows; his chest tightens as his heart sets into a sprint. Just like that, you turned a plain day into something truly extraordinary.

“Hey!” You wave a hand at him as he approaches. Your sundress flares down right above the knee, the skirt swelling when you spin.

“Hi.” He scrapes for something else to say. Is he supposed to shake your hand or…

His face heats up until the mercury breaks the glass when you lean and cheek-kiss him twice. “I like what you did to your hair.” You twirl the unmoored strand around your finger.

“You look beautiful.” Damn bees, he wishes he could wrench them out.

“You look good yourself.”

You beam when he hands you the bouquet of tulips. Flowers for the flower shop girl. “How did you know these are my favorite? Thank you!” A spark ignites in your eyes as you sniffle the box. “I’ll take these with us today.” You wiggle the chocolates into your bag. “Wait a minute while I put these in water.” You scramble inside the shop, and Levi’s gaze stumbles upon an empty storefront across the street, a white sign with red thick letters flashing “on sale.”

What if…

You twist the key in the padlock and tug at the chain, then turn to him. “Let’s go.”

“Where to?”

“The park.”

The main walkway is flanked by food stalls sizzling with fried food and grill meat, colorful awnings swaying in the breeze, the mouthwatering smells wafted around you, kindling your stomach. Through the throng, you push Levi’s chair, kids swishing past with helium balloons tethered to their wrists. The mere gurgling of water is refreshing as you reach the roundabout where the path branches, and you swerve to a meandering trail fringed with bushes and brambles studded with blackberries. Squirrels leap from tree to tree, using their own private highway. The concrete becomes gravel, not so friendly for the wheels, but Levi doesn’t complain. Finally, You find an empty patch on the meadow near the lake that glints in the sun like a shiny tin roof. “Is it ok here?”

“Yeah.” He pulls the brakes, and you strewn a checkered cloth in the shade of a red oak. People in large numbers come across, securing a good spot around the field for the jazz band. They lay out blankets too while kids scamper playing tag. On the stage, the staff jostle, setting and checking the instruments and lights.

“Let me help you,” you say as you fold the footplates. Levi uses his right leg for support as you slide your arms under his armpits, and with all your strength, you heave him. He’s too close you can smell the notes of sandalwood and vetiver gliding on his neck, but this is not the right moment for your knees to go weak. You clear your throat. “Put your arms around me.”

Levi hesitates for a second, afraid that his heart being too close to your chest, will give him away. He clings to you, and you slowly lower him to the ground. The grass blades prick his ass as he shuffles for a comfortable position.

Then you plonk next to him, one knee bent, and the other leg stretched, your hands flat on the cloth supporting your back. “You ok?”

He nods, and his lips curve in a half smile. “You’re pretty good at it.”

“Right after the war I volunteered at the hospital. They were short staff and desperate for any help. Since I can’t give an injection, my job was moving people around.”

“And then you opened the flower shop.”

“Yes and no,” you wistfully say. “The flower shop has been in the family for three generations, not the same one though. The city where I was born and raised burned to ashes. I couldn’t save them.” You look down, fiddling with the hem, tears swelling in your eyes. “I took everything I could from the safe box, moved here and re set my life about four months ago.” You sniff and meet his eyes again. “That’s the short story of my life. What about you? What is it like? The place you come from.”

And Levi talks unrestraint. He talks about his mother and Kenny, Farlan, Isabel, The Survey Corps, Erwin, Hange, the expeditions. You listen intently, interspersing here and there with questions, your hand aching to hold his. How can someone endure so much and survive? Tears prick in your eyes as you swallow the lump in your throat, and you can’t throttle the urge to hug him. You swoop on him, tears streaming down your face pampering the cotton weave of his shirt, and Levi melts, he melts in the warmth of your palliative embrace as your tears embody the amalgam of suffering he stored for years. The vanilla essence of your hair swaddles him like a veil. Levi closes his eyes and mutters, “Thank you.” Suddenly feeling that boulder cracking. “Thank you.” He strokes your back.

It’s alright.

“Do you fancy ice cream?” He asks as you pull away. You brush the tears away and nod. a winsome smile tilts the corners of your lips.

“I go get them. Which flavor?” You groan to your feet and smooth down your skirt.

“Lemon and vanilla.”

You gape, then a smile creases the corners of your eyes. “Isn’t it the best combination? Wait here, don’t move.” You warn with a finger and scuffle to the stalls.

With a smashed leg he wouldn’t drag himself past the tree bark.

He tears up tufts of grass and tosses them into the breeze. Live is too long to live it alone.

Your knees bump on the fabric and Levi takes his cone from your hand, licking the sides where the faint yellow was already bleeding.

And then you bite off the bottom and suck the melting cream. Levi eyes you, crimping his eyebrows.

“Please don’t look at me like that.” A chortle is caught in a cough as you plug the cone with a finger. Smiling, you sweep the tongue over your lips. “I know, it’s a bad habit.” And Levi tries your method too, regretting it immediately. It’s a messier way and he’s compelled to eat it all right away before the stickiness sprints down his hand.

“Shit!”

“It takes years of practice.” You quip and fumble in your bag for the wipies box. The last bite disappears in your mouth. You tear a dampened tissue and motion for his hands. The lamps buzz to life as the sun dips behind the buildings, sucking the color of the day. Levi watches as you swab him, caressing the tiny scars of old lame wounds. Your thumbs are soft like a rose petal on the flesh that’s only been exposed to the thorns. You toss the tissue away to later pick and dispose, but your hands don’t want to untangle from his.

This is not an infatuation; whatever it is, this feeling weaves slowly, steady, and solidly. Your mellow gaze traps his, magnets and metal, and the sounds around glazes to a silence. Your fingers reach for his face, skim those marks, trace the lines of his nose bridge and the arches of his brows. “I like you, Levi. I like you, like you. I wait every Friday for you to walk into my store.” The breath of your words graze his imploring lips.

His self-control hangs by a thread, and the look in your eyes deliberately pulls at the edges of it, fraying the strands.

“Y/N.” Your name comes out as both plea and warning as he leans closer, one hand finding its way to your waist. You move closer, though not close enough, and sweep the tip of your tongue over your lower lip. Your hands ambling along his neck, his shoulders and chest, his muscles quivering under your touch.

The evening is enlivened by the swirling and purling notes of the saxophone.  

Your breath the same air. Your lips part slightly to coalesce with his.

Taglist: @stygianoir @lamees004 @svftackerman @apolloshaiku @luvjiro @roralore @mikakayyyy @lovolee3  @notgoodforlife @galactict3a @noctemys

Want to join the tag list? Click here.

[stayandot8]

Day One

Genre: fluff

Relationship type: idol!Chan x actress!reader, best friends

Important Contents: a continuation of an ask someone made in my inbox. I hope you enjoy it the second time around as much as the first.

WC: 1.1k

Part One l masterlist

Chan: If you’re going to drag me to a promo shoot on my day off, the least you can do is feed me.

Me: Straight through the gray doors and take a right. Snack table should be easy to spot. 

“That’s great, you two!” “Just move your arm closer to her- yes, that’s it!” 

This cameraman was going to drive me bananas. 

My poor co-star had been running late, like the true actor he was. He showed up very apologetic though, so it was hard to be upset when I had nothing else to do that day. So I chatted up the cameraman, which had been my first mistake. He was indeed a very chatty man, talking about nothing but his work and how he had done this huge magazine with idols left and right, how he’d had their phone numbers before they left. I almost scoffed. I had eight of them in my contact list and that was enough for me. They were annoying enough as it was. 

Now, my co-star and I were standing in front of a screen, meant to be in place of a rooftop and so close to kissing, yet not quite. His hands were around me, almost touching my shoulders to hold me close, my dress bunching up with how close he was indeed holding onto me. I thought I might fall over. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a door open and close and true to his text, Chris idled closer to the snack table until he found something he took. I fought from rolling my eyes. He stayed near the back and watched, staring not at me, but at the man holding me or trying to. His brows were close together in a permanent state of what seemed to be confusion and disgust. His lips were slightly pursed, further my assumption. 

After more flashes of the camera, the man behind it called for a short break to look over some of the shots and change lenses. I scurried over to Chan, who was still watching my co-star, even as I stood right in front of him. I looked back to make sure he wasn’t doing anything wild, but he wasn’t. He was just standing there, talking to his manager. I turned back to Chris and snapped my fingers in front of his face. He broke from his trance and looked me up and down, assessing what to make fun of first. 

“For a 90s show, the wardrobe is surprisingly modern.” 

“This dress actually came from a shop that sells these kinds of clothes, alright? I’m not complaining though. It's the most comfortable costume I’ve had. You remember those bunny costumes from that kids show, don’t you?” We both shuddered at the memory. Chris looked back over my shoulder. I rolled my eyes. “Oh, would you stop? He’s harmless. In fact, I think he has a wonderful boyfriend that you might know actually. I think he’s an idol.” 

“I don’t like how close he was to you.” He crossed his arm in front of him, like he was holding something in. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“It was a kissing scene, Chan. Come on, lighten up.”

“Why does he have to have his hands wrapped around you like that? It doesn’t look natural.”

“Oh yeah? How should he do it then?” My eyebrow rose on its own, challenging him. I didn’t think he’d actually do it, not with so many people around. But he stepped closer, brushing his arms underneath mine to guide them around his neck. My hands naturally drove through his hair to find it freshly washed, curling between my fingers. Breathing at all was difficult as he slid those muscled arms around me and for the very first time, I got to see what all of those fans were jealous of. An immediate feeling of comfort washed over me like it never had before. I felt safe when I was so close to him, breathing in his natural smell. It smelled like a memory coming to the surface after being lost for years. His hands on my back were like fire, seeping through my costume and straight to my insides and melting them. I felt every inch of where we were connected. He stepped even further into me, bringing his mouth closer to mine. 

“He should hold you like he’s scared to lose you. Like you are everything that could ever matter to him. He should look into your eyes and see everything he could ever want, standing right in front of him, within his grasp.” The words had a sort of other heaviness to them, like he was carefully weighing them to determine if they were accurate. Like they were the right ones he wanted to say, but sounding almost rehearsed at the same time. He had said these before somewhere. But the rawness was still fresh, honed like a sword. His voice got lower and lower and his mouth got closer and closer to mine, our breath mingling in the centimeters of space between us. I couldn't look at anything other than his lips, how full and soft they would feel on my mouth… my neck… my-

I had to know. So I closed the distance. And it was everything I thought it would be. For the five seconds I had been imagining it. But what I didn’t expect was for him to kiss me back. His hand moved to cradle my face as our lips moved in tandem, like they had been meant for each other all along. Like he’d been practicing for this moment in his own mind, biding his time, waiting for me to come around. 

When he broke us apart, he kept his arms around me, giving me room to breathe. He took a second to reel himself in, panting like he’d just run a marathon. 

“As much as I would like to do that again, and trust me, I would.” I pointedly looked him in the eyes. “I unfortunately have a shoot to get back to. And you have just made it very difficult to focus.” He let his arms fall, a smirk growing. 

“Then I should go so you can focus. Since I’m such a distraction for you.” I gave him a wary look, then shooed him away. “But we’ll talk? Later?” All amusement was now gone from him, hope shining brightly in those eyes.

“Definitely.”  

He nodded, giving me a signature grin and turned on his heel, grabbing an apple from the table of food and leaning his shoulder down to push the door into the hall. 

This is going to be fun. I smiled to myself, seeing my phone light up on the table behind me.

Chan: I’m getting something special for tonight so you’re coming over. 

Chan: I’m calling it our Day One date. :)  

[douqhnxtss]

Long Chat (#♥︎) :: k.mj smau

(#four) :: #SeeingMyGF

warnings :: written section, profanity, bad descriptions of playing the guitar, proofread, typos, yiruto(yizhou x haruto) crumbs (nothing much)

wc :: 1.5k

ᯓ✦ ningning's side

ᯓ✦ heeseul's side

ᯓ✦ written section

staff was rushing everywhere, yells of lee heeseul's manager making sure everything was how it should be and adrenaline was slowly starting to pump up in heeseul's veins; she couldn't possibly have been more ready for the performance.

doyoung was the first to get on the stage, followed by heeseul, then came natsuko, yunjin and lastly yuqi. the mics, drums and stage lights had been prepared and were placed perfectly. heeseul walked to the center, adjusting her guitar's position while the members walked to thier spots on the stage.

heeseul was the leader and center of trick or trick. she locked eyes with her members and gave them all reassuring smiles who reciprocated the action. she took a deep breath, her eyes holding determination and her hands ready to go wild on her dear guitar.

"what a great day, isn't it everybody?" she spoke up, "it is indeed." doyoung followed along.

"it's the time of the year when our name and theme really fits, ya' know? halloween, trick or treating." natsuko spoke, the crown going insane, yells surrounding the area.

"hmm, speaking of, let me ask y'all one question, alright?" heeseul ran her hand through her hair, taking the mic with her other hand.

"trick or..." she drew out, giving the crowd a knowing look, "trick?!" she exclaimed in sync with the audience.

"hello everybody, you know me? i'm lee heeseul, the guitarist who yaps and the leader and also center of trick or trick." She introduced herself, earning giggles from her bandmates. she turned to her side, where yunjin stood.

"the ginger-head beside me is huh yunjin, the rhythmic guitarist. and the blonde over there is song yuqi, our bass guitarist."

"i'm akiyama natsuko, the lead vocalist and the one with the drums and the only man here is kim doyoung, nice to meet you all!" natsuko's voice rung in the air and your manager behind the stage signaled to you to start the performance.

"okay, enough chit-chat. first, we'll start by performing our debut title track... 'trick or trick'! cliché, i know." she chuckled and on cue, the instrumental started playing and natsuko began singing while the other members started playing ther instruments accordingly.

((song is "trick or trick" by aespa from the "drama" mini album))

heeseul's fingers played as if they had their own mind, moving swiftly and with precision. the audience busy in vibing, screaming and chanting the fan-chant of the song, safe to say everyone was having the time of their life.

yizhou couldn't be happier, her bestfriend and other bestfriend (secret crush) by her side, equally as enthusiastic as her. minjeong was a little reluctant on joining but now, she was oh so glad she agreed. heck, she was staring to get yizhou's obsession with the group.

her eyes scanned the group, landing on a specific ravenette. minjeong couldn't, for the life of her, pull her eyes off of heeseul. the way heeseul played the guitar like she was physically made for it, the way she sang parts of the song, her comparatively deeper and sultry voice that minjeong couldn't get enough of, heeseul was a star.

god, it all felt surreal in the korean's mind, seeing her brother perform, giving it his all, she was so proud of him. being a tot fan sounded rather appealing to minjeong.

yizhou's throat was bound to be sore by the time the concert ended, because of her endless screams as soon as everyone went and heeseul stood alone on the stage with the sex-iest smirk ever.

in minjeong's head, she looked so very cocky with her hot smirk plastered on her plump lips, but by her eyes and by heeseul's skill with her group, minjeong understood why she looked cocky, she had every reason to be.

i'd be cocky and arrogant too i was her. she thought.

heeseul let out a chuckle and her hands got to work on her guitar as the instrumental of "drama" started playing in the background.

((again, song is "drama" by aespa, also from the "drama" album))

heeseul finally bid her farewells for the night, the lights of the venue dimming down and the area slowly got decluttered. she walked backstage tired and exhausted but just so happy after performing.

she plopped down on the couch beside yuqi who ruffled her hair with a smile, "you rocked the stage, seul." heeseul's lips curved into a smile, her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath.

"i can't believe my sister didn't even tell me she was coming!" doyoung exclaimed with an over exaggerated eye roll and a scoff.

"she's with haruto i'm pretty sure." yunjin said before taking a long swig of water and let out a contented sigh as the cold liquid rushed down her throat.

"speaking of, where is he?" natsuko asked herself and reached to grab her phone. "there were three tickets, one for haru and another for doyo's sister, then who has the third ticket?" heeseul spoke up, seeing the numbers weren't adding up.

"it's one of his sister's friends, i suppose." yuqi answered and looked at suko who dialed haruto's number.

"where are you?" she questioned in the phone while seul stared at the ceiling, she didn't see her boyfriend in the crowd, she wished he'd been there. but, he's preparing for a japanese comeback, heeseul. she reminded herself.

after a short conversation, natsuko hung up the phone to see three pairs of eyes on her, seul wasn't keen on listening. "they're here." She said and looked at the backstage entrance, where soft voices were turning to more audible conversations, showing that they'd reached.

the first head that popped through was unexpected. heeseung held his signature grin and quickly waved as he saw the members of tot staring at him, mouth agape. "well, hello there everybody!" his loud voice cheered.

heeseul was shaken out of her string of thoughts at the loud and oddly recognizable voice that rung in the air. heeseung rushed over to seul, pulling her up and into a bone crushing hug.

the twins had the sweetest of bonds.

then came in haruto, followed by a face only doyoung knew and lastly came a girl whose hands were intervened with haruto's who no one knew.

yizhou's eyes were wide open in shock, she was seeing her ults face-to-face... she might just explode.

minjeong held a smile as she went to doyoung, giving him a long hug, they'd met after more than four years, her eyes may or may not be full of tears right now.

haruto, still hand in hand with yizhou, walked to his sister, giving a small side hug. "hey-oh sukoko! this is my best friend, i told you about her, remember? she's ning yizhou."

yizhou's cheeks were dusted with pink, "you talk about me to them?" she questioned to which he nodded. yuqi, yunjin and natsuko shared a look between them and suko extended her hand for yizhou to take, who shakily took the request, still not digested with the fact she was here, with the trick or trick themselves, in the flesh.

"hi, i'm yizhou but most call me ning, it's so surreal to see you, as i'm like the biggest fan of you and your music." she said.

"really? thanks! i'm happy haru has a friend like you." suko's voice was warm and inviting. yizhou talked with the three members of tot and haruto. while, on the other hand—

heeseung walked closer to the kim siblings, his hand draped over his twins shoulder, "hello doyoung!!" he cheered, giving a high five to doyoung.

"great, as always. what about you? you weren't here for the concert." he asked, tilting his head.

"photoshoot, after i decided why not visit you all, albeit backstage, but it's not that big of a deal to me, who can get tickets for shows anytime." he flipped his hair sassily, earning a pinch on the waist by seul, making him yelp.

"i'm kim minjeong, doyoung's sister, nice to meet you." minjeong extended her hand, expecting heeseul to accept her handshake, maybe flash a sweet smile like she did on stage, or make a joke or anything, honestly.

however, what she didn't expect was what she did.

heeseul looked at her hand, giving a faint nod, "lee heeseul." she said and turned on her heel, leaving hee, jeong and doyoung there while she went over to drink some water.

heeseung let out a dry chuckle. minjeong's eyes dropped to her unattended hand and she pulled it back, with a scoff and side eye. that was very rude. she thought.

"min, she's super cold to newcomers, so don't think of her that way. it's just, she sometimes isn't particularly.... ya know, the kindest." doyoung scratched the back of his head, followed by heeseung who agreed.

"yeah, anyways, how about you give me your number?, i'll add you to the tot addicts gc." he asked, pulling out his phone. minjeong furrowed her brows, "what's the 'tot addicts gc'?"

"it's the group chat of all the siblings and cousins of trick or trick members." He explained handing minjeong his phone so that she can type out her number. she gave a quick nod before doing so.

well, october 30th was a wild night of fun, music, happiness and some bitter feelings.

yizhou was over the moon, minjeong was full of annoyance but also contented to meet the bandmates of her brother.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ five

|| universe!

note :: yikes... i mean it when i say seul is MEAN and in circumstances she gets even more mean.. I love writing yizhou she's so me coded ngl i loved writing this tho- the next chapter will be just lots of tea spill and funny (to me atleast)

[dreamlandforever]

@writersmonth Prompt: Day 12 - Lemonade

Fandom: Teen Wolf | Sterek WC: 700

AO3

XII. Lemonade | Lemonade Stand

When Stiles agreed to allow Eli to open a lemonade stand for the summer, he really should have expected he would be doing all the work. But call him an optimistic, he really hadn’t. So here he was, at midday, the sun at it’s highest point, squeezing lemon after lemon while Eli directed him with the mixing spoon and Isaac and Scott waited patiently for their glasses. 

He shot a murderous glance at his best friend, who simply ignored it in favor of asking Eli what goes into the lemonade. Eli was listing off everything he has ever eaten to him, while Scott simply nodded like it made sense, when Stiles felt Derek’s presence. He turned around and found him walking over to them, a big bag of ice in his left hand, and a handheld electric fan in the other. Just when he thought he couldn’t be more in love.

“How are my boys doing?” Derek asked, sitting down to help Eli get the ice cubes into the jar they had set out for the stand. Halfway through the task, Eli discovered that ice does, indeed, melt, and was trying to hold the ice in his hand as long as possible to watch it melt. He only lasted a few seconds before he made either Isaac or Derek hold it while he watched, cheering happily. 

“That’s what happens when you leave something cold in the sun, Eli. The same happens to ice cream. It melts.” Stiles explained softly, while he tried his best to avoid the lemon juice that was trying to get into his eyes. He had started trying to teach Eli more words, even if the boy couldn’t exactly pronounce them yet.

“Medt.” Eli tried to reply, now used to his father’s new way of teaching him words. 

“Melt.” Stiles corrected, holding an ice cube out for his son to see. 

“Medt!” Eli repeated, cheering at the melting ice cube. 

“You know, if he just wanted to see ice melt, why did we set up an entire lemonade stand?” Stiles asked, trying his best not to laugh.

“Stiles. He literally said ‘Father, can I sell lemonade’ in that alien language only you understand, and you had as all building this thing. The blame is on you, love.” Derek said simply, taking over for his husband squeezing lemons. 

“Daddy!” Eli called from whatever he was doing with Isaac and Scott. Derek immediately gave him his full attention.

“Yes, pup?” 

“Why sald?” Eli asked, pointing at the bag of sugar Isaac was holding.

“I told him it’s sugar! He got angry and called it salt.” Isaac explained.

At Derek’s utterly confused face, Stiles let out a deep breath. Eli might not be biologically his, but that boy was his son through and through. 

“Don’t worry, man, I’ve got this one.” Scott said, sitting down on the floor to go on a long talk on the differences on salt and sugar. Stiles was certain he and a kid Scott had gotten over one of those at some time.

“I wouldn’t have our lives any other way.” Stiles whispered, only loud enough for Derek to hear. 

“Neither would I.” Derek agreed, pulling on his husband hand until they were both kneeling next to each other, working on squeezing lemons so Scott and Isaac could finish mixing the lemonade. 

By the end of the day, Eli sold a total of three glasses of lemonade to Scott, Isaac and Malia. Stiles sold 45 to the rest of the pack, until he made sure no more lemonade was left. He and Derek then took little Eli to buy a toy with the gran total of 48 dollars he now had. Stiles laughed all the way home while Derek brooded when Eli chose a monkey plushie, which he quickly proclaimed was his favorite animal. 

“Daddy!” Eli called from the backseat.

“Yes, pup?” Derek asked for the millionth time in their 10 minute ride home.

“I dove monpeys!” Eli exclaimed, making his monkey plushie dance.

“Aren’t monkeys just great?” Stiles asked between laughs. “Any other way.” He whispered back to Derek.

“I could have my son’s favorite animal be a wolf.” Derek mumbled back.

“Well, wolves are my favorite.” Stiles answered immediately, holding Derek’s hand that was closest to him. Derek intertwined their fingers, and brought it up to his lips to place a kiss on the back of it. 

“I’ll take that, Mischief.” 

Stiles blushed at the old nickname. 

“Any other way.” Derek agreed, still holding his hand.