#and the man doesn't even have like. anything to go back to.

[diushek]

Shen Qingqiu may know a lot about PIDW, monsters, the plot and papapa plot devices, but, traditional ancient music? Are they seriously going to ask him to learn all those old songs in addition to trying to save his ass from a horrible death?

So, in guqin classes with his students, Shen Qingqiu decides that it is not bad to teach them adaptations of modern music. Nothing crazy. Popular stuff, something classic Queen like exaggerations. He doesn't sing in English, but the music has this magnetic thing that can make a few of his disciples hum along, and it feels like they know the lyrics. Shen Qingqiu enjoys it very much.

Luo Binghe is the only one who actually hears him sing it. With English lyrics included. Of course, Luo Binghe has no idea what it means, but that doesn't mean he can't imitate it! So he's singing softly while washing some robes, enjoying Shizun's musical gift to him, when he hears someone stumble.

That someone turns out to be Shang Qinghua, the An Ding Peak Lord, who stands up from the ground with wide eyes. Luo Binghe interrupts his song, looking at him in confusion, when Shang-shishu... run at him?!

"Bro" Shang-shishu says, in a casual and unpleasant manner, with an expression on his face that Luo Binghe had never seen before, "What the fuck. What the fuck. Queen? Somebody to love? Are you kidding me? How did you get the Protagonist!?"

... and Shang Qinghua begins to speak.

Luo Binghe is sixteen years old, and at this point in his life, he is intelligent, manipulative, and able to handle the situations around him with cunning. So, he manages to keep a conversation going with Shang Qinghua by repeating strange words that he doesn't understand the meaning of, letting the man talk and say things like, Transmigrator? System? Username? How many years has he been there? How did he get the "Scum Villain" to treat him well? Is he preparing for the "Endless Abyss"? Since apparently, that thing, System, had told him that it was an "inescapable plot"...

Luo Binghe is evasive. He says he's been there since he was a baby, which turns out to be an appropriate answer. Bit by bit, he says he doesn't have many memories, which Shang Qinghua seems to understand? He says that some memories settle when he reaches adulthood? That this happened to him. He was twenty when he was really able to manage "both lives" in one coherent thing.

Luo Binghe listens, humming in all the right places, being elusive and evasive but Shang Qinghua doesn't even seem to suspect anything. He insists that he should prepare for the Endless Abyss and promises to get him some weapons and talismans that he can hide. He tells him that he hopes "His King" won't make such a fuss without so many monsters.

Finally, the evening falls, Shang Qinghua begs him to please keep seeing each other to talk, he is tired of being alone.

Luo Binghe looks at the wet clothes. He finishes washing and leaves with many things on his mind.

Shang Qinghua recognized him as a "Transmigrator", whatever that was, from the song. The song his Shizun had taught him. He had asked him how long he had been here. At first, the question hadn't made much sense, but looking back, recalling Shizun's complete change in temperament and personality... Luo Binghe can get an idea of how long Shizun has been there.

Besides, what was all that about "Protagonist"? Luo Binghe is not an epic hero blessed by the gods, and he doesn't have the abilities to be classified as one. Or does he?

That night, he makes an impeccable dinner. He makes sure to present all of Shizun's favorite foods, favorite tea, and favorite scented candles. A treat for the senses. When he sees his Shizun start eating, he just smiles sweetly before:

"Shizun, this humble disciple has a question about the future."

"Mnh, this Master listens."

"Why must this disciple fall into the Endless Abyss as an inevitable plot? Is there no way the System will allow this disciple to stay with his Shizun, or is this an unavoidable fate because this humble one is the Protagonist?"

The chopsticks fall from Shizun's hand. The expression on his face is one of the deepest horror.

"Binghe, what...?"

And his Shizun looks in all directions. He seems to be searching for something that isn't there. The "System", perhaps? Whatever that is, Binghe has never seen or felt it. And, at that moment, his Shizun doesn't seem to see it either. Or, he sees it, but what he sees seems not to be a response of cosmic horror. What he sees makes his Shizun's countenance turn peaceful. After terror and tension, his shoulders relax.

"First, Binghe has to tell me where he got all that... information" begins his Shizun. Binghe nods quickly; he won't have any problems with exposing Shang-shishu if necessary. He has no loyalty to him, not like he does to his Shizun. "Very good. Binghe, sit next to me and pour us some more tea. This is going to be a long conversation."

And it definitely was.

[sunderwight]

scum villain fairytale AU where every night, the beautiful yet cruel peak lord Shen Qingqiu transforms from his regal self into modern nerd Shen Yuan (complete with physical and wardrobe changes).

to keep the secret of his transformations, Shen Qingqiu has taken to locking himself up at night. so every night for the past few weeks, Shen Yuan has awakened to find himself chained and kept prisoner in the bamboo house. since he can't ask anyone, he has no idea that he turns back into someone else come morning, he just thinks he's being drugged or something and that this is his entire transmigration experience -- a prisoner of someone he never sees or interacts with, presumably being fed and bathed while he's unconscious somehow since he hasn't died and doesn't stink, who also hasn't seen sunlight since all of this began.

anyway one day Shen Qingqiu gets distracted and doesn't do the chains up properly (qi deviation issues most likely), and Shen Yuan manages to escape just before dawn. he doesn't completely get away because Shen Qingqiu did set up a last ditch imprisonment array that teleports Shen Yuan back into the house before he can leave the property line, but he gets outside and he calls for help.

disciple Luo Binghe (out early because he got sent to do nine million chores all night and didn't sleep to begin with) sees this thin and obviously frightened young man (in chains!) break out of his master's house and plea for assistance, only to be swallowed up by what looks like some kind of sinister magical effect and vanish.

curiosity piqued, the next night, Luo Binghe masters some of his fear of his harsh shizun and sneaks over to the bamboo house. it takes a few nights more for him to actually work up the nerve to actually peek into one of the windows.

to his astonishment, he sees the young man obviously being held captive inside. what's going on? is it a demon? but then, why would Shen Qingqiu hold him captive instead of just killing him? Luo Binghe is still barely young enough to want to give his cruel master some benefit of the doubt, out of hope for his own prospects if nothing else, but this seems pretty fucked up. especially since the chained man is so pretty, and so scantily clad (shorts and t-shirt)...

anyway, Shen Yuan notices Binghe and starts calling out to him for help. but this frightens Luo Binghe off, because he doesn't know that Shen Qingqiu won't hear and come running. he feels badly though and eventually does go back, and after Shen Yuan assures him that no matter how he screams or begs for help he's sure no one will come (until Binghe, no one ever has), Luo Binghe cautiously stays put and starts talking to him. after a while the young disciple can only conclude that his master must be going down the mountain to spend his nights at the brothels. no one has seen him leave for such trips in months, but he must have discovered a way to do so more secretively.

Shen Yuan has figured out since long ago that he transmigrated, although he doesn't know the setting, so he knows he can't entirely explain his situation to this random teenager. he also knows that there's a chance -- though it seems remote -- that the boy has something to do with his captivity, and isn't just the innocent bystander he seems to be. but with little to loose he's more inclined to trust and hope that this might give him an opportunity to escape.

meanwhile Luo Binghe is still cautious that this strange man might be a demon of some kind, or a trap or test on Shen Qingqiu's part, so he doesn't give his real name or tell Shen Yuan anything about the sect. gradually he becomes convinced of Shen Yuan's sincerity, even though he still doesn't dare go against Shen Qingqiu or actually set foot inside the house.

time passes, and Luo Binghe's visits become more regular. despite the lack of rescue, even just having someone to talk to is such a massive improvement that Shen Yuan doesn't complain. before long he gets the impression that this boy's situation isn't even much better than his own, as he is constantly sporting some bruise or visible injury or another, and offhandedly describes a lot of treatment that sounds frankly horrific as if he thinks it's simply normal. he figures he's in a cultivation setting and some kind of sect, though, and after a while he begins imparting tips and tricks and whatever he can think of to fill the silence with his mystery visitor.

this is eventually how he figures out that he's trapped in the world of PIDW, even if he doesn't quite figure out where or who with yet. because Luo Binghe describes some aspects of cultivation that would only apply to that hack job the author made of cultivation systems. which is a good thing because it lets Shen Yuan offer more specific advice, and also begin to try and make plans.

if he's imprisoned by cultivators, then one day Luo Binghe will probably arrive as part of his eradication of the sects. maybe Shen Yuan can beg mercy from him?

this becomes such an important fantasy that Shen Yuan begins to describe it to his little visitor, playing it off that he sometimes gets "visions" (and trying to help the poor kid some more, given that both of them are in danger in a stallion novel where no man is liable to live long in the protagonist's orbit).

at first Luo Binghe thinks that Shen Yuan has somehow figured out who he is, when the man begins to tell him stories of some great person of destiny who has the same name as him. but by then he's hooked so even though it's risky, he still keeps going back to the bamboo house at night, and after a few weeks he concludes that Shen Yuan really doesn't seem to realize that the name of his imagined demon emperor has anything to do with his visitor. he even describes Luo Binghe's own background and troubles to him, but offhandedly, as if he is just picking up loose details about someone else from a story or dream. even when Shen Yuan observes that the Luo Binghe of his stories has some similarities to the Luo Binghe outside the window, his does this in such a way that it just seems to emphasize that he has no idea that these "visions" he's started having are connected to his visitor. or that the villain Shen Qingqiu he describes is in fact his captor.

Luo Binghe guesses that these visions might be the reason Shen Qingqiu has locked Shen Yuan away. perhaps he is some kind of magical creature, if not a demon, and cultivators can benefit from stealing energy or blood or... other unsavory things from him, although Luo Binghe doesn't think Shen Yuan's predictions sound very accurate. he's still trying to figure it out when, in fact, one of those predictions comes true.

Shen Qingqiu declares that he's going into seclusion, and disappears into the lingxi caves. with him he takes a large box (big enough to hold a man and with vents on the sides), that he moves and handles himself, even though secluded cultivation doesn't usually call for a lot of luggage. from the box, just faintly, Luo Binghe imagines he hears the clink of chains. (Shen Qingqiu plans to lock himself into it every night.)

that night, when Luo Binghe goes to the bamboo house, he finds it completely empty. it's empty again the next night, too, no matter which windows he approaches. as the nights drag on he even grows bold enough to break into the bamboo house, but there's nobody inside.

Shen Qingqiu must have taken his prisoner with him into the caves. Luo Binghe cannot think of a reason to do that which is not nefarious, and he struggles to sleep each night, imagining terrible things that his cruel master could be doing to Shen Yuan as part of his efforts to improve his own cultivation. he can only pray that none of it proves fatal.

being locked in a box at night is pretty bad, but luckily one of the corners was kind of shoddily made, so Shen Yuan manages to get out of it after the second night. he's still chained and he can't leave the circle of an array Shen Qingqiu set up, but the cave is at least a change of scenery. Shen Yuan even feels inspired to attempt some cultivating of his own, although he worries that he's been moved to this weird place because someone caught his little visitor coming to the window, and he hopes that if so, no one has punished the boy (he knows that's a slim hope, given the kind of micro infractions his visitor has apparently been beaten over).

of course, there's a rampaging Liu Qingge qi deviating in the caves, so Shen Yuan gets to deal with that. Liu Qingge thinks he's having some kind of lingering fever dream when he gets rescued by some weird pervert at night, only to come to his senses and find he's being berated by a wild-eyed Shen Qingqiu instead.

Shen Qingqiu is not happy that Liu Qingge's rampage put him in proximity with his incredibly pathetic werewolf curse, the only relief is that the idiot seemed to be too out-of-his head from a qi deviation to remember most of it. and also apparently his "other self" saved the man's life, which Shen Qingqiu is just going to attribute to dumb luck. Shen Qingqiu is 100% convinced that this curse he's under is designed to get him killed or disgraced.

meanwhile, despite his fears about Shen Yuan's state, Luo Binghe does remember that the man told him about a demon attack that followed Shen Qingqiu going into seclusion. he's not sure what to expect, but somehow he isn't as surprised as he should be when Sha Hualing and her goon squad turn up. he is grimly terrified when the fighting tournament starts, and he sees the demon who matches the description of the one he's meant to fight and he can't imagine that working out in his favor... but Shen Yuan was perfectly adamant that despite the difficulty, Luo Binghe would win.

if he wins, does that mean the rest of it comes true? that Luo Binghe is a half heavenly demon, that he will one day become the strongest person alive, emperor of the three realms and owner of the largest harem ever to exist? the one person Shen Yuan seems to think might rescue him from his prison?

the idea of it (well, some of it) gets Luo Binghe through his fight. and then of course Meng Mo shows up, and Shen Yuan is pulled into the subsequent dream and figures out who is "mysterious visitor" really is and is kind of like, oh shit I gave Luo Binghe spoilers about his own destiny. shit. well. done is done...?

Luo Binghe is alright with most of it though. the Abyss sounds deeply unpleasant and he doesn't actually want any wives (so many nights spying on Shen Yuan lounging around in barely nothing and some chains have definitely led to some epiphanies on his part), but if Shen Yuan says he can survive it, he believes him.

and then he will rescue Shen Yuan. after the Abyss he's also completely sold on ruining and killing Shen Qingqiu too. there are no downsides and this plan cannot possibly go awry!

[luvhcarly]

the council would like to request a part 2 to tell me how much u want it

PUT THAT SMART MOUTH OF YOURS IN A GOOD USE.

previous part

After you break up with your boyfriend because you found out he cheated on you again you find yourself infront of his apartment with tears streaming down your face, even though you told him that you should keep it professional…

PAIRINGS: dom!san x fem!reader

GENRE: smut, professor x student, college AU

TAGS: smut, p in v, cheating, cum swallowing, oral (m receiving), San is mean and toxic towards reader, age gap (San is in his 30s and reader is 22), angst, use of pet names (love, slut), swearing, kind of manipulation, San is obsessed with reader and can’t let her go, dirty talk, mention of divorce!, lmk if I missed anything!

WC: 7.3k

A/N: I wanted to thank you guys for the love on the previous part! I decided to give you part 2 of this so enjoy!

Reminder! English is not my first language if you find any mistake lmk!

© All rights reserved luvhcarly do not copy, repost, or translate.

You knew it would be a mistake to step into his office, but you couldn't ignore it. A few weeks have passed since what happened and clearly you couldn't stop think about it, but at the same time you felt guilty. You cheated on your boyfriend even though you basically just paid him back. Well, it wasn't you. You never did such impulsive things. You didn't tell anyone about what happened, despite the fact that your friend suspected you of something.

"Come in." You were snapped out of your thoughts by a man's voice that sent chills down your spine. You took a deep breath and stepped inside, immediately meeting his gaze, which you couldn't quite place. He was sitting on a chair and his hands were on the table, as if he was waiting for you to sit down. As soon as you looked around the room, you remembered everything that happened. The way he fucked you against the desk, the way he told you words that you would like to hear again.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" You put your thoughts behind your head and broke the silence that was between you two. He laughed at your 'sir' and shook his head. He pointed with his hand to the place in front of him for you to sit down and so you did. You sat down on a chair and put your hands on your thighs and cleared your throat nervously.

“Weeks ago you called me San, now you call me sir, again.” With a raised eyebrow he said as if he wanted to indicate something, but you didn't know exactly what. He sighed when you remained silent at his words and he leaned his body more against the seat, not taking his eyes off you. San scanned you, your hair was down and you were wearing a t-shirt that once again hugged your body too well. He cleared his throat when he realized that thoughts lead where they don't belong, but damn why did you have to look so fucking good. Your lips were slightly parted as if you were about to say something, your eyes looked at him with that look that drove him crazy.

"I think-" You took a deep breath and looked at him. "I think we should forget about what happened. It could affect my studies and-" if he was telling the truth, he really didn't expect this. He was expecting something like it shouldn’t happen again or that you should be careful about this? Did he feel… duped? Forget what happened? How the hell do you want him to forget?

“Yeah, It could affect my job so I agree.” But he did not argue and only nodded. He had nothing to say to you even if he wanted to scream at you, Kiss you and do it again and again without any consequences.

"That's all I wanted to talk about. You can go.” His words were sharp, toxic. Something inside you broke, your heart shattered as if you had been stabbed in the heart. Why did you want him to say something else? To say that he doesn't want to forget. That he wants it again and again.

"Okay." With those words, you stood up and turned around. Before you left, you gave him one last goodbye look and then left. You let him sit there, thinking about the fact that he should have stopped you and told you how he really feels. But he knew that he would hurt you and himself.

“Fuck-“ San mumbled under his breath and ran a hand through his hair, when you left. He didn't want to forget what happened, even if it was just an one time thing. He wanted to help you so that you wouldn't feel stupid that your boyfriend cheated on you, but rather he did it for himself because he couldn't stay away from you.

-

"Are you okay, babe?" Your boyfriend’s voice interrupted you when he noticed how you were playing with the food with your fork. Your expression was nervous, tired, something he hadn't seen in you that often.

"What?" You shifted your gaze from the food to him and swallowed loudly when he gave you a puzzled expression. "It's nothing just school stuff." You lied to him and gave him a smile, he nodded at your words and smiled back. Then there was a silence between you, which you didn't like that much, but you weren't in the mood to break it. Your thoughts were elsewhere. You were lost. You were lost in your own head.

“We should go on a dinner tomorrow, to take a break from the stress." He proposed to you with a nice smile and you took a sip from your drink, nodding at his suggestion and smiling at him. "Yeah, that would be great." You really weren't in the mood to go somewhere social, but you didn't refuse.

“Is something bothering you, y/n?” With that he suddenly asked and the fork fell from your hand to the floor. "I-..." you opened your mouth and were about to tell him everything that happened, but then you closed your mouth. “No. I am just tired as I said." That's the only thing you told him and he didn't discuss it further, even if he didn't believe you. Well, he wasn't planning on arguing with you or anything like that so he just nodded his head and continued to eat his food.

After dinner you lay down in bed and took your phone in your hand, your boyfriend was lying next to you and he was also on his phone. You decided to check whether the results of the tests you wrote last week had not arrived yet. Your eyes widened when you saw that you didn't pass his class.

Didn't pass.

How? He tutored you, you wrote everything correctly there. You furrowed your brows at that and your anger rose. What's his problem? You didn't understand it. And that’s why you stayed after his class the next day.

“Professor, wait!” You shouted as he left the classroom and you caught up with him with quick steps.

"I have another class, Ms. Y/n.” His words were again sharp without interest, as if he was telling to leave him alone that he was not interested in talking.

"It won't be long, I just-"

"We will discuss it tomorrow during class, if you have some problem." He stopped and turned to you. His brows were furrowed and he wore glasses. You swallowed loudly at his words and sighed.

"I-..." You opened your mouth and were about to say something, but then you nodded. Despite the fact that you were angry that you didn't pass his class, you suppressed your anger again. His expression made you feel the respect you had for him. "Okay." You said and he left without another word. When he was out of your sight enough, he let out a sigh that he didn't even know he was holding back. He knew that you probably wanted to talk about why you didn't pass. But his reason was simple. He thinks you have more in you than what you wrote in the test. That’s why he didn’t let you pass, or maybe there was another problem?

“Asshole.” You muttered to yourself as you slammed the locker shut and an annoyed sigh escaped your lips. He was acting strange.

"Who is an asshole?" Your friend's voice rang out and you jumped a little. You did not expect that she would be here and that she would hear you.

"You scared me!" You punched her on the shoulder and she laughed at your words, but then immediately gave you a serious expression.

"Who were you cursing at?" She asked again, her curiosity growing. You raised your eyebrows at her question and pretended that you didn’t say anything before

"What? No one." You gave her a smile, but she still didn't believe you, she already knew you very well. "Your boyfriend again?" She leaned against the locker and crossed her arms over her chest, patiently waiting for your answer.

"No, of course not." You blurted out quickly and she just sighed and bit her lower lip as if she wanted to tell you something.

“You are acting weird lately. Is everything okay?” She finally asked and you ran a hand through your hair and furrowed your brows.

"I'm fine! Why is everyone asking me that”You said with a raised voice and your friend sighed and shook her head. She didn't understand why you were suddenly so angry and nervous. You were never like that, you always walked around smiling, but now you looked like you were going through something. When you realized that you had raised your voice at her and that you are taking out your anger on her for no reason, you swallowed loudly and squeezed your eyes.

"I'm sorry... I'm just tired." You rubbed your forehead and looked at her. She had a disappointed expression on her face, as if she understood you. "Yeah, I get it. Get some rest, y/n.” With her hand she stroked your shoulder. "And stop stressing about school." She added and gave you a sweet, friendly smile, which you returned in return.

You were nervous all day, probably because of school. Despite the fact that you were not in the mood to go to that dinner with your boyfriend, you went. You went to a romantic restaurant together and sat down, talked and joked. You felt that it was the same again as before and your stress subsided. "I will be right back, babe." He stood up and you smiled at him from behind the glass and he directed his steps to the bathroom. At that moment, his phone, which had its screen facing downwards, started ringing. Somehow you didn't pay attention to it, but when the phone rang several times, you gave up. You looked around the restaurant to see if he was coming back, but when you saw that he was nowhere to be found, you picked up his phone.

"When are you going to break up with y/n?"

"Babe, I want you. Please?”

"Can you come over tonight, we could have some fun?" ;).”

You swallowed at the texts and a tear started to run down your cheek.

“I’m back-“ A voice came from behind you and you gripped the phone tighter in your hand and gave him a hateful look.

"Babe, It's not what-"

"Save it. I don’t want to hear it. You didn’t change.” Your voice was hateful and your words were sharp, he leaned closer to you and wanted to stroke your shoulder, but you pulled away.

"Can we talk about it? Everybody is watching us, y/n. Calm down." He looked around nervously when he noticed people's curious looks. You wiped your tears and picked up your jacket.

“No.” You muttered. "We are done." You said and he shook his head at your decision. With those words you left and left him there alone. As soon as you left the restaurant, you put on your jacket and hugged your body. Raindrops began to fall on your skin, which you let out a sigh. You didn't know where to go. Only one place came to your mind. His apartment.

Flashback.

“She signed the papers.” He informed you and looked up from the phone to you and measured you. You already had your skirt on and put your t-shirt back on. "That's great!" You gave him a sweet smile and he sighed but then smiled. He leaned his body against his desk and ran a hand through his hair before resting his hands over his chest.

"Yeah, it is, but I will have to move out."

"Move out? Where?” You blinked fastly at him being confused. He could hear in your voice that you were a little afraid that he would leave, but you didn't try to show it in any way.

"You know the new apartments just two blocks away from school?” For a small moment, you thought about his words, but when you remembered the new apartments nearby, you nodded.

"Well, I already have papers set for this but I waited if she would sign the papers and she did so." He usually didn't talk that much, but now he wanted to. He wanted to tell you everything that was on his mind, and it didn't bother you at all. You liked to listen to him and you were glad that he was saying something that was bothering him. San looked at you nervously, as if he realized that he might be talking too much, but your words calmed him down.

"The apartments are beautiful and I think that it's a great opportunity to start a new life for you." Your words were soft and kind, it warmed his heart. Maybe it's an opportunity to start something new. Something that will fill him and make him feel good. He gave you a smile and his thoughts took him where they probably shouldn't have. Well, for a few seconds he imagined that he lives with you, but then he immediately put it behind him. It's impossible.

End of flashback

“Y/n?” The door in front of you opened and he appeared there. His hair was messy and his eyes were tired, he was wearing a black oversized T-shirt and gray sweatpants. It was strange because you didn't usually see this on him.

"I'm sorry to barge in here like this but-" You stopped talking for a moment and took a deep breath. "I didn't know where else to go." Your hair was wet and so were your clothes. He had a surprised expression on the shapes that you were standing here in front of him, your eyes completely red and your mascara smeared.

"Come in." The words he usually spoke gave a completely different meaning to you. He stepped back from the door and let you in, taking your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it on the hanger to dry. He then directed his steps into the kitchen and you followed him, looking around the apartment with your eyes. It was nice and new. Everything was in white and black colors, which you would expect from him.

Without another word, he took a sip of water and leaned against the kitchen counter while you kept looking around. He could see from your shape that something was wrong, otherwise you probably wouldn't be here. But he was surprised that you remembered his words from a few weeks ago. He didn’t ask you what happened, he just looked at you with his eyes and then put the glass down.

You watched with your eyes as he left suddenly and then came back with a dry T-shirt and sweatpants. "Go take a shower." He ordered and handed you dry clothes. You nodded at his words and he let out a sigh. As soon as he pointed in the direction where the bathroom was, you directed your steps there. When you stepped into the bathroom, you smelled his usual scent and you swallowed loudly at that. Then you took off your wet clothes and stepped into the shower. Immediately warm almost hot water touched your skin and you tried to wash away all the bad thoughts and the anger you still had inside. You were a fool to think it wouldn't happen again. You naively thought that everything would be the same as before.

A small sigh escaped your lips as the same scene replayed in your head as you slowly scrolled through the screen of his phone and read the texts. You still couldn't believe that it happened so suddenly. You spent quite a long time in the shower, and he thought that something had happened to you, but when he saw that you got out of the shower. Your hair washed and his clothes on you. The shirt he gave you was a little bigger, and the sweatpants too…

San cleared his throat and he pushed you a cup of tea infront of your face, which you graciously accepted and sat down on the couch next to him. You took a sip of the hot tea and looked ahead. There was an awkward silence between you, as if you were both thinking of what to say. Well, the only thing you could say was:

"Thank you." You muttered and looked down at the cup of tea you were clutching tightly in your hand. You had the feeling that if you clenched it even more, it would shatter into a million pieces. Like you an hour ago. "I broke up with him." You suddenly blurted out and he immediately turned his gaze to you. He raised his eyebrows slightly at your words as if he didn't expect it.

"Sorry to hear that." He actually lied, he was glad you were not together. That you did it. Did he feel happy? Relaxed? He didn't even know how he felt, but he only knew that deep down he was glad that it was so.

“He did it again.” You added and he furrowed his brows. He didn't like it, but even more he didn't like that you were here and that you were saying this to him.

"Why are you telling me this?" You shifted your gaze from the tea to him and gently parted your lips. You didn't know what to say to that. A tear ran down your cheek and you wiped it away with the tip of your fingers and swallowed loudly.

"I'm just confused." He laughed, he didn't even know why, but he found this situation funny. "Yesterday you told me that we should keep it professional and now you are here. Crying.” His words were sharp and unpleasant. You put the tea on the table in front of you and shook your head at his words that he was right. But why didn't you feel it that way?

"You are right. I-" as soon as you started to speak, he cut you off.

"Are you doing this on purpose or what?" His eyebrows were furrowed and he had a strange expression on his features that you had never seen on him.

“What? No! Of course not I just-“

“You giving me those eyes during class, showing up in my apartment.” He shook his head at you, he didn't care that the tears were running down your cheeks more and more. He wasn't really interested at this moment because he wanted to understand why you were doing all this. What is your deal? Distracting him?

“Tell me y/n. Why?” He raised his eyebrows and stared at you, patiently waiting for your answer. "Because I'm curious. You just show up here crying and telling me the same shit over again.” He let out a sigh and you just stroked your brows furrowed and lips parted, tears still running down your cheek. "Expecting what? That I will tell you It's alright and some other kind of shit?" He chuckled at his words and ran a hand through his hair, leaning further into the couch. His eyes were fixed in front of him, but you were watching him. You watched his every move and listened carefully to his sharp words that came from the depths of his heart.

"that I will hug you and whisper lovely words to your ear?" He added and then got back into the previous position to see your face. He could see on your face that you were taken aback by his words and that you didn't know what to say. “Well, I am not that kind of guy, if you thought that I would do that.” You took a deep breath when he finally finished and wiped your tears again and stood up from the couch.

"It was a mistake coming here." You muttered and when you were about to leave, his words stopped you.

"Yeah walk away. That's what you are best at." He had his elbows on his knees and watched carefully as you turned sharply at his words, tears were no longer running down your cheeks, but he could see from your features that you were angry. Angry because of what he said.

“Says you. You walked away from your wife and almost cried at my fucking shoulder after you fucked me.” Your words were full of anger, you were like a ticking bomb. He got up from the couch at your words and stepped closer to you. His jaw clenched and his Adam apple bopping every time he swallowed.

"I fucked you because I saw that you were desperate, remember?" He said and you shook your head at his words, you knew he was right but still you didn't let it go.

"I let you because you were so desperate to fuck someone who actually gives a fuck about you." You spilled those words into his face and at that moment he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer, his hot breath touching your face.

"I can choose who I want to fuck, love. You would be surprised how many students came to my office and flirted with me. But I only fucked you, isn't that funny?" His words were ridiculous, he directly mocked you. He moved closer to your ear and his words sent a chill down your spine. "Should I remind you the words you said to me?" Your breath hitched and he saw it. He saw how you suddenly became nervous and also how a chill passed through your body, his words full of mockery and teasing. He knew very well the effect he had on you and he intended to use it very well.

"That I fucked you better than your boyfriend. Pfuu… y/n.” He pulled away from you to get a good look at you. "Tough words, right?" You swallowed at his words because he was right, but you still had no plans to stop throwing arguments at him.

"I only said that to make you satisfied and to boost your ego." Your words were funny to him so he just laughed at you and your stupidity.

"Your body said something else that time." San enjoyed how your body trembled gently and how his words always sent chills down your spine every time. But he thought it was very funny how you pretended that it had no effect on you and that you looked confident. “And now your body is saying something else too.” He shifted his eyes to your parted lips and how you immediately closed them and swallowed. You hated it as he had readen you from head to toe. How did he know what reacts to you and what doesn't.

“You asked why.” Out of the blue you changed the subject and his grip loosened on your wrist and he raised his eyebrows. He didn't understand where you were going with those words.

"What?" He asked you incomprehensibly and a small sigh escaped your lips, wondering if you really should say that. "I came because of you." You looked into his eyes and searched for something in them, maybe a hint of what he was thinking. That he feels what you feel.

"I came because I can't stop thinking about you. Fuck, you- you are driving me crazy.” Your words caught him by surprise and he immediately let go of your wrist and bit the inner corner of his mouth. “And fuck, yeah I expected you to hold me and tell me that it will be okay. I admit, okay? I even admit that I always walk away from the problems instead of solving them. And I’m sorry about what I said about your ex-wife. Fuck, I even admit that you fucked-“

“Just, shut up.” He interrupted you and immediately took your cheeks in his hands, using them to bring you closer to him and kiss you. Despite the fact that his words before were sharp and unpleasant, you let him kiss you. You wanted it. His touch on your cheeks was soft and warm and the kiss was soft and gentle. “You talk too much.” He said between kisses and his hands slipped to your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss became more dominant and passionate, he ran his tongue over your lips and you opened your mouth and gave him the freedom to push his tongue into your mouth. His tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that belied his earlier resistance and you sighed as his hands slid to your ass and squeezed it.

He lifted your body by your ass and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Without breaking the passionate kiss, he carried you to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him, leaning you against it. He let your body slowly slide off him and put one hand on your waist and the other on your cheek and caressed it gently. You slid your hand under his shirt and ran your fingers over his stomach, as he let out a shaky breath as your fingers traced his abs, his head falling back briefly. "Fuck, you're going to be the death of me," he muttered, quickly pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside.

“Yeah?” You asked him with a teasing voice still tracing your fingers slowly along his abs. "Yes, really," San growled at that, catching your wrists and pinning them above your head against the door, having enough of your teasing. He leaned in close, his lips barely brushing your ear. "One minute I'm pissed as hell at you, and the next..." He trailed off, pressing gentle kisses along your neck. “Then next I want to fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.” A slight moan escaped from your lips as he started to leave wet kisses along your neck.

His mouth curved into a satisfied smirk as he felt your body tremble against his. "Like that, do you?" he whispered, purposely leaving another wet mark just below your ear. His hands released your wrists, one sliding down to grip your waist while the other began pushing your shirt up, sending shivers down your spine. His cold hands touching your warm skin made you part your lips slightly and he noticed.

“So fucking sensitive," he murmured, his cold hand leaving goosebumps in its wake as he pushed your shirt higher. San broke the kisses on your neck just long enough to pull the shirt over your head and toss it aside, leaving you in just a lacy bra. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, half-naked and breathing heavily against the door. He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a rough, passionate kiss as his hands reached behind you to unhook your bra.

“Mhm~” Being too desperate you moaned into the kiss as the bra hit the floor silently, freeing your breasts. He growled softly as your breasts pressed against his bare chest, one of his hands coming up to grope one possessively. Your moan echoed in his mouth, making him harder.

“Fuck- San, I need-“ he cut you off immediately.

“Shut up." San said against your lips before kissing you deeply again, swallowing any further words. His hand squeezed your breast roughly as his hips pressed against yours, letting you feel how hard he was already. Breaking the kiss, he nipped at your bottom lip. "Pants off. Now." You swallowed at his sharp words and you slowly pulled your sweatpants down, keeping an eye contact with him as he watched you carefully, enjoying how you obeyed him.

His gaze remained fiercely locked with yours as you peeled off your sweatpants, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you stood before him in nothing but in your panties. “Those off too. Come on.” Without breaking eye contact, he ordered watching how your body trembled every time. Slowly you pulled your panties down as he watched you with a smirk on his face. God he liked how you obeyed him every time.

“On your knees.” When those words left his mouth you swallowed. At first you remained in your place not being so sure but his voice was heard again. “Come on, love. Get on your knees for me.” His voice was low, demanding and you slowly slid to your knees, looking up at him. With a soft touch he cupped your cheek and grinned at the sight of you being in front of him on your knees.

His thumb gently stroked your cheek as he leaned down and whispered, "Isn’t if funny how minute ago you screamed at me that you let me fuck you just because I was desperate to fuck someone who gives a fuck." He kept eye contact while he slowly pulled his sweatpants down, a smirk playing on his lips as you watched him. “Now, look at you, y/n. You are here again. Obeying like a slut.” You swallowed hard at his words and your body trembled even more as you watched how he pulled his sweatpants and boxers down in one swift movement and your breath hitched as you saw him fully naked now. He was huge just like you remembered. Long and thick. He smirked watching your reaction. "Now, put that smart mouth of yours in a good use, will you?”

With a shy look on your face you brought your lips to his length and a shudder ran through him as your lips barely brushed against the tip. San groaned quietly, his fingers twitching against your cheek. "What did I say, love?" His voice was low, furious as he grabbed you by your hair roughly and he pressed himself against your lips, silently urging you to take him in.

As soon as you opened your mouth, he pushed himself in, filling your small mouth instantly. He groaned as he hit the back of your throat, pulling your hair harder to keep you in place. "Look at me." he growled, his hips bucking slightly to push himself deeper. With a small tears in your eyes you looked up at him through your eyelashes as he enjoyed the sight of you. He enjoyed how you fell apart on his cock.

San's eyes darkened with lust as he held your gaze, drinking in the sight of you trembling slightly, tears glistening at the corners of your eyes. He smirked, pleased by how perfectly you were submitting to him. "You look fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around my cock," His thick length pulsed in your mouth as he admired the view—your pretty lips stretched around him, taking him so deep. "Such a good girl," His grip tightened in your hair, holding you firmly in place as he slowly thrusted, savoring the slick heat of your mouth.

You moaned against his cock immediately sending shivers down his spine at that, then slowly you made your way with your hand to your wet core, the pleasure being too much but his words cut you off right away. "No...don't you fucking dare." He warned in that deep, authoritative tone you loved. With one quick motion, he grabbed your wrist, preventing your hand from reaching its destination. "Only my hands get to touch you there tonight, got it?" His hips thrust forward again, making you gag slightly. You let out a little cry at his warning words and San smirked as he watched you suppress your whimper, pleased by your obedience. Keeping a firm grip on your hair, he began to thrust more deliberately, each stroke pushing deeper into your throat. The wet sounds of your mouth working his cock filled the room, punctuated by his low groans of pleasure.

“So pretty.” He tilted his head back, savoring the sensation as he hit the back of your throat perfectly, but then he looked back down at you, seeing the slight flush on your cheeks and the tears streaming down your face. He was close, so very close to bursting apart in your mouth. "So good, just for me, yeah?”

You moaned again and he let out a shuddering groan as your moan vibrated around his sensitive cock, the sensation almost too intense. The sight of you squeezing your thighs together desperately, unable to touch yourself yet trembling with need, pushed him over the edge. "Fuck, I'm gonna-" He threw his head back and with one final thrust, he buried himself deep in your throat and came undone, his hot seed spilling into your mouth as he let out a low, guttural groan. His hips jerked erratically as he rode out his release, eyes locked onto yours, intense and unblinking. You watched, mesmerized, as he came undone completely, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. "Swallow it, come on.” Without second thought you swallowed all his release, squeezing your eyes.

He let out another groan as he watched you swallow every drop like it was the best thing you've ever tasted. Your throat worked sexily as you swallowed, making his spent member twitch again. "Goddamn," He muttered softly, petting your hair gently now instead of gripping it harshly.

“Please.” A whispered please escaped from your mouth as you squeezed your thighs more. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you squeezing your thighs, desperate and needy. He knew exactly what you were begging for, he leaned down, cupping your chin in his hand. "What do you want, love?" He asked in a smooth, knowing tone.

“I need you. Please.” A small chuckle escaped from his mouth at your desperate cry, his fingers trailing down your chin to your throat. "You need what?" He asked, his voice dropping lower, "You need my hands on your thighs? You need my face between your legs? You need my fingers inside you? My cock?" You let out a shaky breath at his words, swallowing loudly.

“Please, make me feel good, San.” He smirked mischievously at you, grabbing you by your wrist tightly and pulling you up from the ground. You were immediately met with his intense gaze and his hot breath on your lips. “Please-“ When you started to beg again he silenced you with a harsh, bruising kiss, his other hand reaching to your hip, guiding you slowly to the bed. He broke the kiss, panting, "You want to feel good?" Your knees immediately hitting the bed and he showed you down on the mattress, watching you swallow and your breath becoming more heavier which made his cock twitch.

With your elbows you supported your body as you leaned back more and you observed him as he stood there watching you for a moment, admiring how perfectly you surrendered your body to him. Your chest rising and falling with anticipation, lips parted slightly. "Spread your legs," he commanded, his voice hoarse with desire. When you hesitated for just a moment, he added firmly, "Now." Without another second you spread your legs for him and he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands firmly gripping your knees to keep them spread wide. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, seeing how wet you were, your pink folds glistening with need. He slowly ran his fingers along your slit, not penetrating but just teasing.

“Fuck-“ When you felt his finger ran along your slit you threw your head back and shut your eyes, begging with your little moans to be touched more.

“Eyes on me, love.” With a raised tone he grabbed you by your jaw and made you look straight into his eyes, his fingers splaying out to keep your knees spread wide. When he slowly pressed his tip against your wet pussy he watched your eyes roll back slightly but snapped them back to his with a sharp tug on your jaw. "You just won’t listen, will you?" he asked, his thumb rubbing your chin roughly. "You want to be fucked?” You were unable to concentrate when he pressed his tip on your wet pussy, teasing you. The only thing you managed to do was shake your head which wasn’t enough for him.

He saw the contradiction in your body language and smirked. "You don't want to be fucked?" he asked, pressing just the tip of his cock inside you, but not enough to satisfy your need. He was teasing you, loving the power he had over you.

“No! I want to be- I want to be fucked, please!” A dark laugh escaped his lips as he heard you beg for it. He leaned down, his breath hot on your ear. "That's what I thought," he whispered, driving his cock fully into you in one swift motion. You gasped, your back arching as he filled you completely, capturing your mouth into a deep kiss. Right away you moved your hands to his back and he groaned into the kiss, loving the way your nails dug into his back.

He started to move his hips, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch of him as he pulled out and thrust back in. He broke the kiss to nip at your neck, sucking and biting to mark you. Then he pulled away his dark eyes locked onto yours, demanding your attention and devotion. "Tell me who's fucking you this good." He lifted your chin with his hand as he continued to thrust into you deeply and slowly, his piercing hitting your g-spot with each thrust.

“Y-you.”

"What I didn’t quite hear you." He teased, his voice low and commanding as he continued his slow, deep thrusts, hitting your g-spot with each movement. His other hand reached up to wrap around your throat, squeezing gently as he looked into your eyes. "Say my name, love."

“San.” You moaned more louder and he smirked at that, enjoying how you are taking his cock so well. "Like that," He growled, thrusting harder. "You take my dick so well," He murmured, watching your body bounce slightly with each snap of his hips. "Spread your legs wider." He ordered softly, watching you eagerly obey.

"You know what I love?" You gasped as he thrusted deeper into you, gripping your hip more tight every time. He enjoyed the sight of you how you opened your mouth into a little ‘O’ when he thrusted more deeper, making you take his full length.

"Watching your pretty face while I destroy this tight pussy," He whispered darkly, increasing his pace. His hand around your throat tightened slightly, showing his possessiveness. His thumb traced your bottom lip as he continued pounding into you. "Christ you feel so good..." He leaned down to nip at your ear as he felt your nails dig deeper into his back as he hit that sweet spot inside you, making you cry out his name loudly. He smirked against your neck, loving the sound of your voice saying his name. His hips moved in a circular motion, hitting your g-spot from different angles as he spoke. “So glad you left- you left that boyfriend of yours.” The fact he was struggling with his words made you moan even more. “Now you are all mine. Right?” The grip on your throat tightening as he looked at you with a hungry gaze. “Say it that you are mine.”

“I’m yours.” As his dick was too much for you, you hid your face in the crotch of his neck, but he immediately pulled you back. "That's right, you're fucking mine," he growled possessively, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, bitting your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, marking you. He continued to pound into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Y-yours.” Even though you were unable to breathe you repeated again but San hadn’t enough of it, yet.

"Again," His voice hoarse as he continued his brutal pace, his hands roaming your body possessively, squeezing your breast and spreading your thighs wider. "Say it like you mean it," He ordered, his eyes locked onto yours as he continued his punishing rhythm.

“I-…” You were moaning mess you couldn’t get a simple word out of you as he kept thrusting more rougher. He laughed at your state but still he said;

"Use that mouth yours like when you talk shit." He growled as his hips were snapping forward with each word. "Tell. Me. You're. Mine." He punctuated each word with a deep thrust, hitting your g-spot perfectly, his eyes burning with intensity as he watched you struggle to speak.

“I’m yours. Fuck-… only…” To catch a breath you paused for a second, “Only yours”

"Goddamn," Softly he muttered, slowing down his pace. He loved hearing those words from your mouth. Slightly, he pulled out then snapped his hips back in hard, making you cry out. He smirked wickedly. "You know what I wanna do?" Finally he moved your hand from your throat to your hip again and again he pulled out of you and then snapped his hips back in hard. With hunger in his eyes he watched you let out a little cry as he kept doing that for a while. But then he kept his pace slow and deep, dragging his piercing along your walls. "I wanna fill this pretty pussy up with my cum, mark you inside and out. Make sure everyone knows you're taken," He leaned down, biting your earlobe. "What do you say to that, love?" Your eyes widened at his words and a chill run down your spine.

“W-what?” Out of breath you asked him he chuckled darkly at your shocked expression, his slow thrusts maintaining their deep pressure. "You heard me," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Want my cum inside you?" His hand slid down to rub your clit in tight circles, making your hips jerk involuntarily.

When his hand met your clit, teasing you, you let out a loud moan and shook your head in agreement watching him smirk at you mischievously loving the effect he had on you. At that he speeded up the pace again thrusting more deeper and rougher than before trying to chase your and his own high. His cock pounded into you with renewed vigor, his breath growing ragged and his eyes never leaving yours. "Fuck, you feel too good," he groaned, his fingers digging into your thighs as he spread them wider to accommodate his deep, brutal thrusts. "I’m gonna fill you up."

“Please.” With a loud moan you begged and you grabbed him by his cheeks, pulling him closer and kissing him roughly. He kissed you back fiercely, swallowing your desperate plea as he continued his relentless pace. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming every inch as his cock claimed your pussy. "Fuck, you are so desperate for me." he teased breathlessly against your lips, giving a particularly hard thrust that made you see stars. He could feel that you were close when your walls started to clinching more on his dick.

"Are you gonna cum for me, love?" He whispered darkly, picking up the pace even more, his thrusts becoming almost violent, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every stroke. "Look at me when you come." He could feel his own release building, his muscles tensing. Moans echoed in the room as you sank your nails into his back once again as you came.

"Fuck, yes," he hissed at the sudden pain mixing with pleasure. His nails dug into your hips hard enough to leave marks as he surged forward, his entire body stiffening. He let out a guttural roar, his hot cum filling you up, overflowing and dripping down your legs. After that he didn’t pull out, he stayed inside you for a while pressing his forehead against yours, smiling softly at you. It was different than before. This didn’t feel like sex, like it did back then in his office. It felt more like love?…

[cherie-doll]

hello again!! i just wanted to askk, could i possibly request how the cod men would be with a self-conscious reader? :3 thank you for the curly-haired!reader hcs btw those were so cutesy!!

I hope u have a nice day/night <3 - 🦇

lol im back and yea ofc! (omg i finally wrote and posted something, EVERYONE CLAP)

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Being Self-Conscious Around Them

౨ৎ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He notices that anytime you're out, you glance at your reflection in every mirror or window you appear in, you always regret doing it, and he notices it when you fix your hair to cover your face a little more, or bringing your hoodie over your head

He switches the shopping bags he was using both hands to carry to only one hand, with his now free hand he brings an arm over you and pulls you into him, tucking you into his side

And when you look up at him, a soft breath condensing in the cold air as it escapes your lips, he just smiles warmly and reassuringly at you

His voice, low but thickly as he says your name, wanting your utmost attention, and your eyes find his, in the quietude of the street on that evening you did not turn to glance at your reflection again

It is easy to worry endlessly, to get lost in your thoughts of how people see you, of being aware of every flaw someone could see in you, but you're once again reminded why for one person in the world who's always by your side sees past them

Ghost

Sometimes it is very subtle things you don't like about yourself, not always easy to perceive or notice, but he notices how you feel, the way you carry yourself is different, maybe your shoulders a little more hunched as you try to hide

He doesn't say anything, but he knows something like holding your hand extra tight will have your spinning mind grounded again when you're in public

A chaste but rare peck on your forehead when you get home as he detangles from your fingers and walks off, leaving you surprised but feeling warm inside for it

He knows he's not the best at providing comfort, the man himself uses a balaclava every time he goes out, the real reason for wearing it still unknown but you could say he's just gotten used to not showing his face, so he can't exactly tell you to not hide or turn away if he himself does it

Still, he wanted to give you something to lean on, anything to give you a little bit of reassurance

Soap

He doesn't see why you would be so self-conscious, he loves everything about you, why wouldn't you too?

To be honest, he's never cared that much about his appearance, and he may not exactly be the best when it comes to words, but he's trying

He wants to show you that you shouldn't shy away from him, that he will continue to show you love even if you're hesitant and overly aware of yourself, to not let it get to you or affect how you treat one another

He hates hearing you say negative things about yourself, even if you're just pointing them out, because he truly doesn't see the flaws you think are there, he looks up at you endearingly as he kneels down, his hands on your hips as he tells you about how he first fell for you

And God, you can't get him to shut up once he starts, you'll be laughing and telling him he can stop now, that you get the point he's trying to make, but he refuses to stop talking, you will listen to hear him go on for at least another 30 minutes

Gaz

Those days where your self confidence isn't the best suck :(, especially if you feel like nothing else is really going right and on top of that you just don't feel your best

Kyle would just sense that something is off when you walk through the door, he looks up from where he's sitting and just the sight of him makes you rush into his arms the moment he opens them for you

He'd hold you as he gently strokes your hair, which has a most calming effect on you, making your brain go quiet, feeling how soft his fingertips are against your scalp as they gently caress between strands of hair, it is during this that he asks if there's anything bothering you, since it's been a while since you've had a deep conversation

Feeling like nothing can hold you back, the streams of words just flows, and he's there to only nod and listen as he wishes he could clutch you tighter to his chest and heal everything inside of you, it hurts him to see you like this

But after you've poured everything out to him, he hums quietly and parts from you a little, you raise your head to meet his eyes in confusion

"You really think that?" and he gives the most loving and adoring look you've ever seen him give you it just melts you from the inside

Roach

Honestly, he'd sulk noticing how much it affects you, because he loves the confident you, how charming you are when you hold your head high not letting the thoughts swarming in the murky waters of your mind get to you

He knows he might not be able to change how you perceive yourself, but he can try his best to offer his comfort, maybe you're lying in bed, trying to make peace with the thoughts inside your head, and here comes your boyfriend/husband to climb into bed with you

Slowing making his way towards you like a cat seeking attention, resting his head on your lap as he stares up at you with dreamy eyes admiring you, and you can't ignore him, you take his face in your hands and feel the urge to aggressively love him

His soft smile reminding you of how much he loves you, it momentarily makes you forget about everything, you've been too engrossed in your thoughts you forgot about the person who could erase your doubts even if it was for a moment

The tenderness in his eyes when he murmurs "I love you"

Alejandro

Alejandro is the best at excessive flattery, he does not pass up a moment to tell you how good you look, the problem is that's what he thinks, you're more worried about what your mind has to say and what others might think too

No matter how far down you try to push your thoughts, they just keep finding a way to resurface and make you feel awful, why do you even care so much? It feels like you should, everyone else feels so natural, you want to feel normal for once

Seeing how distressing it can be for you to the point you avoid certain things, Alejandro decides to take matters into his own hands

Telling you, "Who cares what anyone else thinks? It's what you and I think, and no matter what, I still feel the same way", you already know he'd go through extreme measures just to have you feeling like the luckiest person alive, everyone should be envying you for having what you have and you should look and feel it too

Rudy

You're always asking him, "How do I look?" and he will always answer with a smile and "You're beautiful cariño" except you don't believe it, especially when you asked for his jacket, you're not even cold but suddenly you don't like how you feel in your outfit, maybe the people passing by are snickering or laughing or noticing that there is something wrong with you

You just want to turn around and go back home where you can be at peace without the fear of judgement, but Rudy stops for a moment, sensing right away how you feel and asking if you really want to, he could take you back home and instead choose to do something else for the night

You nod yes and he doesn't hesitate in rearranging his plans, he centers his life around you anyways, and he'd rather take a raincheck for any other night than make you feel uncomfortable, he just cares endlessly about you

But he wishes he could find a way to make you see you like he does

Phillip Graves

Waiiitt I've literally entertained the idea of this with him before ;)

You staring into the mirror, unsatisfied with yourself until you're approached by Phillip from behind, him wrapping an arm around your waist, resting his head onto your shoulder and nuzzling his nose into your neck, making you laugh softly

But he notices that sad look behind your eyes, your furrowed brows

No matter how much you try to bring it up to him, he will not let you get more than a sentence in before shaking his head, he doesn't want you to express anymore of those negative feelings, knowing that if you started you'd just go on until you started crying

He'd have you meet his gaze through the mirror, making you stare deep into his beautiful blue eyes asking if you truly trust him, if you nod yes, he'll tell you how he truthfully finds every part of you attractive, how alluring you've been from the first moment he laid eyes on you and how you should discard other people's thoughts

"You truly are the most stunning thing I've ever seen"

Makarov

He did find it strange how you'd gradually become quiet the longer you were around people, and then when you came back home you'd immediately go to the mirror and smile and practice different facial expressions in front of it

When he asks you what you're doing, you simply wave him away, you're only trying to see what you looked like when you were talking to people, did you really look like that? And suddenly you notice other things

Until you're convinced you shouldn't really smile so wide or talk so much, but all it takes is Makarov and his rare tenderness to make you forget about it and feeling good again

He sees no blemishes on you, and you allow yourself to tell you whatever he wants as he drags you away from the mirror and pulling you into bed with him, spooning you, whispering into your ear how you're better than all those insufferable leeches anyways

And for the next time you're getting ready, you receive a questionable amount of compliments from the help Makarov keeps around the house, did he tell them to do that?

Keegan

Keegan wouldn't have known you were being self-conscious around him if it weren't for the fact that you started changing when you were alone, you no longer let him stare at you too long, afraid he'd see something he wouldn't like

You were always trying to turn away or cover yourself if he came into a room when you weren't dressed, yelling at him to get out, except he doesn't care and ignores you anyways as he settles into bed or he holds your hands so you can't cover your face when he leans in closer to get a look at your face

"Hey, don't hide from me" as he turns you to face him, his eyes impossible to part from as he stares deeply into yours, trying to find that fear so deeply rooted in you and pull it out, no one should reach this low, and he'd be a damn fool to let it get to you

He wouldn't want to lose you to this disquietude

König

He very much understands and notices when you're feeling self-conscious, he often feels it too, awkward and unsure of himself when around others, with you though, he forgets about that feeling entirely

Obviously, he's going to do something when you're starting to feel like that, first thing is searching for a place where there is less people, the air gets heavy rather quickly when there are too many people which only makes things worse especially if there's a crowd of people

Doesn't really say much as you both settle into a bench, he's not even sure you noticed that he did it intentionally, he kind of fiddles with his hands nervously but he sits there for a moment, watching the scenery with you, until you lean into him

He's surprised but welcomes it, bringing an arm around your shoulder, "König?" and he responds with a hum, "Do you think... other people think I'm weird?"

Seriously? That's what you were worried about? As if his entire being hasn't always been clumsy and sheepish when around others, yet he still somehow managed to bag you, he snorts, if you're weird he can't imagine what word would be used to describe him

Horangi

He might not fully understand the anxiety that comes with feeling like everyone is constantly watching and judging everything you do or how you look, if anything he quite enjoys the feeling of having eyes on him, especially yours

But he notices how whenever he stares at you a little too long to the point you notice, your reaction gradually shifts from giving a timid and bashful smile to full on embarrassed, he doesn't understand, you're deserving of attention, so why don't you enjoy it?

You do end up explaining how much it bothers you, but there's a long list of things you're always taking notice of, isn't it weird how you walk? Don't you tend to look around too much at people? Is it only you who has an awkward interaction with someone every single time you go out? It's only you, right?

Again, he had never taken notice of these things, seeing as he's learned to take pride in how he carries himself and how he does things, he tells you people don't actually care, no one pays attention long enough to notice

Which is unfortunate really, why doesn't anyone else ever notice that spark in your eye, or that distinctive mark on you? Such a pity no one will ever get to look at you like how he does, maybe he's lucky because he has you all to himself

Nikto

He doesn't even notice what you're constantly worrying about, you've overlooked every scar of his, so why would you ever feel the need to worry about how others perceive you? Especially when it comes to him? It's not unusual of him anyways, you have to point things out for this guy to even take notice of

He sees you staring into the mirror and thinks nothing of it, sees you pull your shirt down every time you sit and again dismisses it, sees you looking uncomfortable when pictures are being taken, fine with him he hates them too

Until you're up at night thinking and he's in bed next to you ready to rest until your voice comes out shaky, frail as if on the verge of tears asking if he really even likes you

Needless to say, he's confused, tired and only grunts in response as he pulls you, snaking an arm around your waist and trapping you in his arms, when you try to move he just shushes you and tells you to sleep

You go to sleep not knowing he's still awake, staring gently at you as he caresses your hair

[lucigoo]

So, once agian I couldn't resist lol. Thank you for another amazing (unintended) prompt!

Toss A Coin To Your Witcher (Because I Stole His Horse) - A03 link ,a nd fic below the read more!

Jaskier stumbled down the side of the mountain, angry. In fact, he was so enraged that he didn't have the words to describe how mad he was. 

He also couldn’t stop the pathetic whimper he let out. He wasn't just angry. He was seething, raging, but also heartbroken. His heart may as well have been ripped out of his chest and crushed under Geralt's boot. It wasn't like it even belonged to Jaskier anymore. It hadn't for more years than he could count. It belonged to Geralt, and he was a careless fucking fool with it. Which had led to Jaskier stumbling down the side of a mountain with tears blurring his vision and nothing but a blind hope he was going in the right direction. 

His hope paid off when he heard Roach's distinctive sound. At her calls, more tears poured down his face. 

Jaksier rushed the rest of the way to where she was still tied up and pushed his face into her neck. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, sobbing into her coat, but stand there he did. 

Roah, usually a grouchy beast at best, just stood there, her head resting on Jaksier's shoulder as she allowed him to cry his pain out, an almost alien sentinel as he tried to purge the pain he knew he would never be rid of. 

Eventually, he ran out of tears, though his eyes felt heavy and painful. He took one last deep, shuddering sigh before stepping back and gently stroking Roach's nose sadly. "Thank you, girl. Look after him, won't you, though he doesn't deserve it. Or you or me," Jaksier whispered before he pressed a soft kiss on Roach's muzzle. 

He then turned to her saddlebags, roughly, quickly dividing his and Geralt's things. It had been a long time since they had separate ones. Geralt's things often ended up wherever Jaskier wintered, and Jaskier often never made it back from Kear Morhen, though he was never sure why. 

He took great pains to ensure all of Geralt's potions and oils were placed back in his bags, not wanting him to die from lack of them, though a bit of maiming he would heal from wouldn't go amiss. 

Jaskier finally stood there and finished dividing his and Geralt's lives up. He fought hard not to curl up and sob right then and there. He was stronger than that. Could be stronger than a wilting maiden who lost herself to heartbreak. He refused to act like that for a man who had never loved him in any way. Just because he had given Geralt his entire heart, well, he now knew Geralt didn't even consider them friends. It was also painfully obvious that Geralt must not even LIKE Jaskier, though he could never be sure why he had put up with him for so long. 

He let out a mournful sigh that echoed off the mountain and surrounded him, all but screaming his pain back at him before he shouldered his pack and turned to leave. 

As he stepped away, he turned quickly at Roach's distressed whinnies. Not that he could do anything if there was, but Jaskier whipped around, ready to defend her if necessary. But there was nothing there, just Roach pulling at her reins as he walked away from her, from Geralt. 

"Oh, sweetheart, you can't come with me. You have to stay, my lovely," Jaskier whispered as he soothed her, preparing her for him to leave again. He placed another kiss on her muzzle and turned, managing to get a few more steps before she started whinnying and calling out in even more distress. 

"Roach, darling, stop," Jaskier called as he rushed back to her. "Enough, sweet girl, before you harm yourself. You have to stay, and I have to go. He … it appears he only loves fiery mares and violet-eyed women," Jaskier said with a sad, almost desperate laugh. 

He stroked her once more before finally turning to leave and never cross paths with Geralt again; after all, he knew where he wasn't wanted. 

He got even further this time, almost around the bend, before he turned at the horrendous noise Roach was making. She was all but screeching. Thrashing and bucking, trying to rip her reins off the tree.

Jaskier once again ran back to her. He couldn't allow her to harm herself. 

He took deep breaths as he soothed Roach unsure what to do. He obviously couldn't leave her if she was going to act like this. She would hurt herself, or worse, call a monster down to do it for her when she was tied up and defenceless with no Geralt insight. 

Jaskier stayed there stroking and calming Roach for who knew how long. Still, he was very aware of time slipping away from him and the fact that whilst Geralt could throw him away like he was yesterday's rubbish, he would never do the same for Roach. 

It was then that a cruel, terrible idea came to him. One that had him giggling at its sheer meanness and one he would take full advantage of. 

"Alright, sweet, sweet girl. Let's go," Jaksier said, looking up the path. Not sure if he wanted Geralt to suddenly materialise down it and stop him or to get away with this darling horse that that fool of witcher did not and had never deserved. 

In the end, the light rain that started to drizzle chose for Jaksier. He was already smarting and brokenhearted; he didn't need to be soaking wet, too. 

He removed Geralt's saddle bags from Roach's saddle and attached them high in a tree. Leaving his own water skin and his food, as well as half of their coin that was usually in a shared purse. He may be angry, but he didn't want Geralt to go hungry or thirsty, even if Jaksier knew that, in reality, he could withstand days without either. 

He once again cursed his fool heart for still caring about the jackass before attaching his one saddle bags to Roach and carefully picking his way down the mountain, gaining speed and getting as far away from Geralt as possible as soon as the land levelled out. 

He refused to look back, refused to think about what he had lost, especially when he gave Roach her head, and she galloped away with a heart-sore bard on her back. 

You know in Burn Butcher Burn, the "all those lonely miles that you ride ,now you walk with no one by your side" part.. I've always wondered why he is using "walk" in the second verse, it's weird it almost doesn't make sense since Geralt is always on Roach or Roach is always by his side.

Well.. Guess what! That motherfucker stole the goddamn horse after the Mountain.

Good!

[bloomries]

Hey hey! I hope you’re doing well! I absolutely ADORE your “calling them husband” thing, it’s SO cute! Would you be up to doing similar for the other dateables? (So like… Dia, Barb, Simeon, and Solomon?) if not that’s totally chill too, but figured I’d ask! Either way, have a wonderful weekend!

me and my husband~

includes : diavolo, barbatos, simeon, and solomon.

summary : calling him your "husband" (even though you two aren't married yet) to see his reaction.

warnings : gn! reader. mention of marriage.

part 1

DIAVOLO

You knew you had to be cautious, say it at the wrong time and Barbatos would certainly be pissed- which was something you wanted to avoid more than anything. So, in the early hours, as you helped Diavolo get ready for the day, you couldn't help but tease. "What am I to do alone without my husband?"

At first it's eerily quiet, and you're nervous to glance up to see Diavolo's reaction, his fingers- which rested on your waist- twitch as his grips tightens a bit. "I- I was just prankin-"

He leaned in close, his lips by your ears. "Is that what you want?" His voice was low and smooth. "Should I finally bestow such a title upon you, hm? I've certainly thought about it more than a few times..." He muses, pulling away just enough for you to see the smirk on his lips.

You're still a bit stunned by his sudden shift in demeanor and his hinting words. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Diavolo chuckles. "Be patient for me, spouse. We'll talk more about this tonight, okay?"

And before Barbatos can interrupt such an intimate moment, Diavolo presses a kiss to the corners of your lips before leaving- leaving you stunned and waiting for the promise of tonight.

BARBATOS

You were helping him set up for a party being hosted by the Devildom's prince, wanting to do anything to relieve some of the stress of it for him. "Where should these flowers go?" The delivery man asked, glancing around the giant hall.

"Hmm," you hum in thought, also glancing around the hall. "My husband will want them over there." You say casually, just loud enough to capture the said demon's attention. He didn't really give much of a reaction at first, just glancing your way before returning to the party details.

It wasn't until much later that you finally find out how he feels about your words. "Husband, hm?" He asks, his hand in yours as he leads you two around the dance floor- one of the few pleasures of helping to plan a party. You grin, your eyes sparkling with delight.

"I was wondering if you heard that." Barbatos hums in response, a smile sneaking its way on to his features.

"Whilst I'm not opposed to the title," He says, pulling you impossibly closer to him. "Perhaps we should wait until I've properly earned it, hm?"

"Oh? And when will that be?" You tease, biting your lip in anticipation. Barbatos chuckles, taking a step away as the song ends. He bows, placing a kiss to the back of your hand.

"Soon, I assure you." And then he's leading you to get a drink with him.

SIMEON

Sometimes it was hard to tease Simeon, but other times it was oh-so-easy that it'd be painfully hard not to mess with him a little. So when the little old granny cheerfully asked if you two were a married couple, you had to step in. You clutched his arm a little tighter, and before he could answer you spoke. "That's right, this my darling husband~"

Simeon sputtered a bit, looking at you mild disbelief to have agreed and even call him such an endearing term without hesitation. Simeon, trying not to cause a scene however, composed himself rather quickly and smiled at the elder woman.

"Mm, yes... I- I'm their husband..." He nods along. He's thankful she doesn't say much more, only commenting you two were adorable together before leaving. When she's far enough, you burst out into laughter. He frowns, arms crossed over his chest.

"Honestly..." He sighs, shaking his head at your antics. "You just love to mess with me, don't you?" You wipe away at tears from laughing so hard, glancing at him with a grin.

"Well it'll be true one day, so what's the harm in saying it now, right?" And if you thought his reaction earlier was cute, this one was much, much cuter- a shy smile he tries hard to hide. Simeon certainly hopes it'll be true one day.

SOLOMON

"Husband, oh my lovely husband~" You call whilst you know Solomon's in the middle of brewing a potion. You peaked your head into his lab, only to see him completely unbothered. He lifts his head only to meet your eyes for a few brief seconds before returning to his potion.

"Is there something you need, dear?" You frown, entering the room fully now.

"Not even a smile? No blush? Nothing?" He has a sly grin now as he shrugs.

"It's not I'm new to the title or anything." Solomon says simply, and this simple sentence causes your eye to twitch. "A great many, in fact, have called me such-" He narrowly dodges an attack, an alchemical book flying right for his head, before he realizes maybe he went a little too far with his own teasing.

"I'm never calling you that again, I swear-" Before you can leave he's abandoned his potion, his arms encircling you from behind.

"Don't be mad," He whispers, "You know that there isn't anybody I'd rather call me that than you." He presses kisses to the nape of your neck and downwards toward your shoulder. "And it's never sounded as sweet as it does than coming from your lips- like wine." He murmurs, "sweet and addicting." You roll your eyes, turning around to face him.

"Don't think your flowery words have gotten you out of trouble... completely." He grins, that mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"I have plenty more where that came from, if you're interested?"

Biting back a laugh, you drag him out of his lab. "Hm, keep it up and you'll have that title back by the end of the day." And he was more than happy to provide flowery, honeyed words forever should it please you.

[siriusleee]

beating, twice

↳ 3.8k words

↳ simon has a new heart

↳ author's note: this has been sitting in my google docs since december of last year. so i'm posting it now because i've become stuck and can't figure anything else out with it

The mountains had never appealed to Simon; he preferred the asphalt jungle of London; the glittering beetle eye concrete of New York City. Easier to disappear into, the pulsating feel of the crowds giving him a sense of anonymity. But at discharge, the doctor's told him to take it easy - to enjoy retirement. 

"You're not exactly a young man anymore Mr. Riley," the military doctor said, a silver wedding ring glittering on the back of her clipboard. "You're being medically discharged - you need a plan to keep yourself healthy."

A new identity. A retirement account. A generous do-over to a life filled with one time only regrets. His heart had been grafted over with a piece from a soldier who died in the same blast that nearly killed Simon. He'd told the doctor when he woke up that he could feel it squeezing his heart, but the doctor told Simon that it was just psychosomatic - he knew there was a new piece to his heart and so he felt it. 

It took a year of rehab before they finally got tired of him, and another six of bureaucratic hell before the paperwork was finally processed. 

The relocation specialists asked him where he wanted to live - Simon didn't know what to say. He'd been all over the world, and yet the name of a singular town couldn't crawl towards his lips. 

"You can just point at the map," the specialists had said, fingers twirling a pen. "Some guys do that." So that's what he did - the clock ticking in his ears growing louder and louder as he stood, stupidly, staring at the map on the wall. He tried to count the seconds. How many had passed? Two minutes? Three? His eyes scanned the map, looking for places that he hadn't been to before, places that didn't leave a bad taste in his mouth. 

And then he spotted it - a little dot on the map nestled in the Black Hills. No where he'd even been before, or nowhere he had a memory of. But that graft on his heart squeezed when he saw the name, and before he could think, he was tapping the map with his fingernail. 

"Alright - I'll have you a place in a week."

The compulsion to walk starts the moment the last box is moved in; the pile of boxes pathetically small in the little house the military bought for him. Or maybe it was once a safe house - Simon didn't know and he didn't care. The walls are faded and the porch sagging, but it's a fresh coat of paint on the water stains that have plagued him. Simon can sense the neighbors peering out at him from behind their curtains; they twitch back into place when Simon steps out onto the porch, the wood moaning beneath the weight of his boots. The sky threatens to spit snow onto him; the first snowfall of the year comin' soon the movers had quipped to him. Simon hadn't replied, just grunted as he passed over the two hundred dollars he owed for moving everything in.

The air bites at his exposed face. When was the last time he was exposed like this? When was the last time he was allowed to show his face like this? Something like self-consciousness presses against him, making it hard to breathe until he tugs his hood over his head and he can breathe again.

The grass crunches beneath his feet, curled brown to protect itself from the oncoming storm. He doesn't look at where he's going, just lets his feet take him where they want to go as the sun slips beneath the treetops. The town falls to sleep around him as his boots carve patterns into the concrete. 

The music stops him short. It's entirely out of place on the starlit street - the notes tripping over one another to spill out onto the asphalt with a gentleness that rolls through the darkness. It makes him sick to his stomach with something he can't place, some feeling on the edge of his tongue that he hasn't felt since Johnny's funeral, since he heard gunshots and saw the way Price's hand shook as he shook the hand of Johnny's mother. The absence of something he refuses to name. He's sure he's never heard it before, but it pulls him back to sand beneath his boots and to the hum of Blackhawks above him.

The street is devoid of life; light spills out of the windows and onto the streets, little jewels that hang onto the rough and cracked concrete of the sidewalk. The music is faint- a radio turned down so a conversation can be heard. The entire street is frozen with him, the little flurries that were attempting to collect on the street cracks hang heavy in the air, breathing with him. 

Simon doesn't know how long he stands there, hands in the pocket of his jacket and letting the music wash over him. But it stops eventually, and the entire street lets go of the breath it's been holding; the flurries start to fall again, faster to make up for their pause with Simon. 

It suddenly occurs to him that he must look like a fucking freak, standing there on the sidewalk, David beneath Michelangelo's hands. It takes every bit of strength in his body to keep his boots moving, moving away from the last notes that linger and swirl around him.

He walks all night, finally falling into the bed with no sheets when the sun starts to peak back out.

He gets a job as a mechanic. His references - names all made up and cell phone numbers that lead forgotten CIA workers whose only job is to answer and read a script- give him the best recommendations, and the old man running the garage doesn't really need Simon to know how to do anything other than change spark plugs and change the oil. The man looks Simon up and down, and Simon catches the POW-MIA embroidered on the man's hat, and that's that. There's something that passes between the two of them that neither of them speak about, but they recognize it in each other's eyes. He starts the next Monday. 

He doesn't need the money. Between all the years of hazard pay that wasn't eaten away at by daycare fees or wedding bands, he has a small fortune to practice spending, but he needs the distraction from the walls that should be holding up his military honors, but instead hold blank emptiness. He hasn't been able to unpack anything. He just digs through each box when he needs something, slicing his hands against the knives and sharpened memories. 

He walks his path ad nauseum. Each night there's a new symphony that washes over the little town. He tried, more than once, to not be a fucking creep and stand in the middle of the street listening for ten, twenty, thirty minutes. But even across town he could still hear the music creeping its way through the buildings and beneath the cars. 

It stalked him beneath the street lamps until he was pulled back towards the street, trying to figure out which house the sound was coming from. 

The snow is thick on the ground, being pounded flat each night by his boots by the time he discovers which house it's coming from. The curtains are pulled back, light spilling further out onto the street than usual. The window is pushed open and the music doesn't pour out, but rushes over itself angrily. He finds himself drifting towards the open window - the music is a siren song to him. He knows it. He knows.

He knows this song. He doesn't know how he knows it, he just knows that it pulls on his grafted heart in a way that's painful.

She plays with the kind of look a person has after years of practice. Simon recognizes it as the same one he has when he cleans his gun - the look you have when you don't need to fully pay attention to what you're doing because your body knows it by memory. The song ends abruptly - the last note wrong. It stops Simon in his tracks - 15 yards from her window. He suddenly panics, thinking she's going to look at and see him standing there. She must have stopped playing because she finally caught the stalker who's been standing on her street each night. 

But she doesn't.

Instead she stands, and reaches across to slam the window shut. The house shutters from her anger, and she pulls the curtains closed. A moment later the sliver of light that was left is extinguished and Simon knows then, he needs to move. 

He's getting too comfortable. He spends too many nights outside her house listening to her play - too many nights getting closer to the window until he's found that he can stand right on the sidewalk and see her through her curtain when it's closed. 

He learns the pattern of each song by heart until one night when he passes by and the street is silent. There's no light in her windows - he immediately thinks the worst. The gun at his waist feels a thousand pounds; he reaches back to grab it as he walks up her steps.

The front door is cracked open, and his heart jumps to his throat.

Each room is empty - nothing seemingly misplaced. When he clears the final room, his shoulders sag, his gun finds its place back in its holster. He suddenly feels like creep being alone in her house.

Her.

He doesn't even know her name, and he's standing in her living room. A decrepit calico cat meows angrily when he walks by the couch, and then bounds out from its hiding spot beneath the couch to rub against his leg - completely unafraid of Simon. 

The place is empty - almost depressingly so. It mirrors his own house, no relics of family or friends. The only thing that looks used regularly is the piano. He runs his hands across the top, and it spooks him. 

He leaves, making sure the cat is left sleeping on the couch and the front door is shut tight. 

He finally figures out her name when he sees her standing in her driveway, kicking the shit out of the passenger side of her car. 

Hands tucked tightly in his pocket, he stops a respectable distance away before speaking. 

"Car trouble?"

She jumps, swinging around to face him. Her face is closed, guarded from him as she takes in his face and he wishes he had his mask back - wishes it wasn't strange to wear a mask out in the civilian word, wishes -

"Yeah it won't start; the piece of shit."

Simon keeps his spot on the sidewalk as he speaks, worried that if he moves towards her, she'll move away. 

"I work at the shop in town if you want me to give it a look."

She's shrewd; she looks at him like she's waiting on him to say something else, and he knows she's used to men hitting on her. But he can also tell she's desperate, and he can see the argument inside herself as she debates letting him look at her car. 

"I'd like that."

Her starter is completely fried, and he tells her that. She kicks the tire, but this time all the fight is removed from it, and it's a pathetic kick. 

"Thank you for telling me," she says as if the words are bitter on her tongue. 

"I can fix it for you this weekend if you want."

"I can't afford it. And I'm not sleeping with you to pay for it."

Simon snorts in spite of himself. 

"I'll get a recycled part - don't worry about it."

The argument inside herself is written all over her face, and even when she reaches out to shake his grease stained hand and tells him her name, the fight is still written across the wrinkles in her face. 

It's still there when she hands her phone to him, tells him to put his number in and to text her when he's on his way back over. 

"I can't afford this, you know."

Simon can barely hear her as she speaks over the engine, her words crawling between the houses and housing of the innards of her car to reach straight up to him. 

"You can pay me later."

"I just told you I can't afford this."

Simon's mind lingers on the emptiness of her house that he'd seen the week before - he knew better than he wanted to how little she had at the moment. But he can't let her know that, can't let her know that he's traced the inside of her house while she was gone.

When he's satisfied with the noise of the engine, he slams the hood shut. She's leaning against the driver door, her breath fogging around her - it crosses Simon's mind that he could corner her right here, tell her what repayment he wants. but he's not a fucking freak.

He's not. 

So instead he wipes the grease and dirt from his hands onto his jeans where it mixes with the grease and dirt from work and mirrors her lean. 

"Cook me dinner?"

The hint of a smile starts to creep on her face, but she bites it back. She picks at an invisible piece of lint on the sleeve of her sweater before she answers. 

"You want me to cook dinner for you? How do you know I can cook?"

"I'll take my chances."

She chews on her chapped lips before sighing, boots kicking at her tire. 

"Come by tonight, alright."

He doesn't own anything fucking nice. He's pushed all his clothes around - in the back corner his dress blues hang sadly, and everything else has a grease stain on it. 

"This is ridiculous," he growls to himself, annoyed with everything all of a sudden. He reaches into his back pocket to his phone. He's just going to fucking cancel. This is fucking stupid. This is-

She's sent a picture. He doesn't know what he's going to see when he unlocks his phone, but a little piece of him has some hopes. It's a chicken in the oven, surrounded by oranges like something out of a magazine his mother would have flipped through in the grocery line. 

Hope this is enough to repay you :)

"Fuck," he says to his pants that hang limply, and they say nothing back to him. 

He chooses the jeans with the least amount of stains. 

She's wearing a skirt with a slit dangerously high when she opens the door. 

You shouldn't wear that around the wrong men, he wants to tell her, but he is the wrong man, and he knows that, but she doesn't. He doesn't want to be the first person to tell her that about him.

His repaired heart knows the curves of her - somehow he knows that if he were to run his hand up the part of her thigh the slit is showing, there's going to be a scar there, he knows - 

"Are you alright?"

"'Course. The smell stopped me."

"That bad, huh?"

"Terrible."

She wears a hint of a smile as she steps to the side to let him in; he catches a whiff of her perfume, vanilla and tobacco and whiskey, and he's got the sudden urge to lick the base of her neck. He holds himself back, hands held behind his back as he follows her through the living room, past the piano, and into the kitchen. 

The scruffy cat comes out of the shadows to intertwine around his ankles like they're old friends. A pot boils on the stove and the chicken is on the side, steam pouring off the golden skin. 

It scares Simon how at ease he feels in her kitchen, how the kitchen table's chair is so comfortable to him. She's tense - he can read it in the tightness of her shoulders, in the way she taps her nails against the counter. 

Simon's heart beats too fast watching her flash around the kitchen and nearly jumps out of him when she places a plate in front of him. 

It feels familiar in a way that terrifies him. 

He's like a stray dog - she fed him once, and he keeps coming back. She only complains once. 

"I'm a teacher, you know. I don't make enough money to keep feeding a big man like you."

Simon buys her groceries after that, his own refrigerator growing empty as he spends more dinners at her house. He knows they both feel it - they both feel how fucking weird it is that they can orbit each other so easily despite knowing nothing about each other. 

He reads in the evenings. She doesn't have much, but she has more books than one person should, and she plays the piano and he pretends not to know the pieces. He pretends that he hasn't stood outside her house night after night committing each song to memory.

If she finds it suspicious that he hums along too fast, picks up the melody too fast, she doesn't mention it. 

"I was married once," she says, like it's a dirty secret. She taps her fingers against the glass of her beer, a sharp staccato that increases in speed like it's her heart. 

Simon doesn't say anything, just takes a drink of his own beer to quell the storm that's conjured in his chest. Married once? He doesn't know what he's supposed to feel, but it can't be this, can't be this anger that suddenly starts beating against the architecture of himself, the anger that unhooks something in his blood. 

"It wasn't very long," she continues, the rhythm of her ring getting faster, "We only were married for a year before we divorced."

Simon's beer hits the countertop with a little too much force.

"Why'd you divorce?" He doesn't mean for it to sound so eager, so fucking needy, but if she hears the edge to his voice she doesn't say. He needs to know what led to the destruction of her first marriage, so he doesn't make the same mistake with her. 

"We were kids, you know. We shouldn't have gotten married to begin with, but neither of us had anyone else. And there was no one there to tell us it was a bad idea."

"Where's he at now?"

"He's dead."

Her ring stops tapping.

"He died in a bomb blast almost two years ago. He was in the army, and he was deployed. There was nothing left of him for them to ship back to me. I didn't even know that he listed me as his family."

Simon's mouth is suddenly dry, and he feels like he's going to choke. She's still not looking at him, her eyes are still trained on the red neon sign behind the bar, so she misses the way he presses his hands into the bar to keep them from shaking. 

"I just thought I should tell you," she says, half turning in her chair to finally look at him.

The ground beneath him has shifted, he's off tilt and he doesn't know what to say. I might have his heart in my fucking chest and that's why I feel this way about you. 

"Can you take me home, please?"

There's a million things he wants to say, a million ways he wants to take that request. He swishes them around in his mouth with the last of his beer.

"'Course, love."

The two beers are nothing to him, but she's a different story. She stumbles on the ice in the parking lot, and steadies herself on his elbow. She doesn't let go until he opens the passenger door of his truck for her and he helps her climb in. Her foot bounces as he pulls out of the parking lot. It's a three minute drive back to her place, four for him to put the truck into park. 

He expects her to unbuckle, to climb out. But her hands don't inch towards the buckle. She seems to steel herself for what she's going to say next, and he's waiting on her to tell him that she noticed how weird he's been - she doesn't want him to come back. 

"Do you want to fuck?" She asks suddenly, and the abruptness of it takes Simon off guard. 

"What?"

"Do you want to fuck?"

Simon's hands grip the steering wheel so hard he's surprised it doesn't shatter beneath his grip. He waits just a moment too long, and she scoffs, unbuckles the seatbelt and has her hand in the door handle before he can react. 

He reaches across to grab the handle from her, keeping her from opening the door. She won't look him in the eye, instead pushing roughly on the door to try and shake it loose from his grip. 

"I didn't say no." The gentleness in his voice shocks him, but it's not enough to get her to look at him. 

"You didn't say yes either."

She breaks the door from his grip and slides out, her skirt hiking up high enough that he catches the edge of her curves.

His stolen heart beats, trying to escape his chest as she disappears inside - to get the fuck out from behind the steering wheel, to knock on her door and explain that his timing is bad, he doesn't know what to say and when he's supposed to say it. He tells himself he's going to leave when the light from her bedroom turns off - he just wants to make sure that she's safely asleep before he leaves. 

But the light doesn't go out.

His watch creeps past midnight before the front door opens again. The nightgown she has on makes his hands sweat - it peeks out below the heavy jacket she's thrown on top. She veers towards the passenger door and when she climbs in, Simon's hands start to shake at the amount of thigh that flashes him.

"Why don't you leave?"

"I wanted to make sure you were safely asleep."

"You saw me walk into my house."

"You never know."

And she doesn't ever know. She doesn't know what kind of horrors could be around each door. Simon wants to explain that to her - explain what he's seen to her, but he doesn't know how to do that. He doesn't even know how to broach the subject of the million things that he should be telling her. 

"Why didn't you want to have sex with me?" She asks in a small voice that Simon hates, and he hates himself for being the reason she sounds like that. 

"I didn't say I didn't want to."

"Then why didn't you say yes?"

"I don't want to just fuck you."

Her knee bounces nervously.

"Alright. We can do the other stuff."

He almost tells her, more than once, about the heart that beats in his chest. Once, when he had her folded over the piano, and again, when she tangled their legs together in her bed and the ancient cat was purring on his chest. 

He's too cowardly.

[lucysarah-c]

Mounting Spring Ch. 9

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21. Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.)

Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it.

From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another.

Masterlist to the previous parts!

Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there!

“So, what’s the plan?” Hange asked as they walked down the street. With each step they took, the houses grew larger, the gates taller, the fences grander—everything seemed to increase in size and value the deeper they went. “You sneak through a window now that the sun’s setting and kidnap the cat?”

Levi didn’t break stride as the street sloped downward, though he shot Hange a frown. “We’re not kidnapping anything. I sent a cadet earlier to inform them I’d be picking up the animal.”

A loud hum of understanding filled the night as they continued walking, hands tucked into their pockets. But Hange still didn’t seem convinced.

“You sure about this?”

“About what?”

Hange gave a quick glance around before answering. “These neighborhoods are private.”

“And?”

“Let’s just say the people who live in places like this and… us? We’ve never exactly been longtime acquaintances.” Hange’s tone carried the weight of an unspoken warning, as if preparing for the worst.

But Levi couldn’t care less. Maybe it was the inner thug in him, the part that never gave a damn about the rich, the nobility, the king—or authority in general. This place reeked of something foreign, something he didn’t belong to. But like a lion crossing an open field, he walked through it like it was his to take. The Scouts held power now, but that wasn’t why he moved with such unwavering confidence. Levi was Levi, and even before the Scouts had led an uprising, he had been humanity’s strongest. Strength gives you a certainty in your actions that nothing else can. Especially when they reached the front door.

Hange, either fearing the worst or just aware of Levi’s absolute lack of social grace, wisely kept quiet.

The staff member who answered the gates frowned—not just in confusion, but perhaps in disgust. His gaze landed on the Wings of Freedom insignia on their uniforms alarmingly fast.

“Sir.”

“I came for the cat,” Levi said, blunt as ever.

The man’s expression barely shifted. “I thought we informed the cadet that if you came, you should use the back entrance.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed. He had no problem using the service entrance. But they’d received a mere MP cadet—barely fifteen years old—at their pristine front gates, and now he was supposed to go around the back like some beggar? Not a fucking chance.

“Are you going to let me in or not?”

The man—a butler? Or something like that. I don’t fucking know, Levi thought—stepped aside reluctantly, extending a stiff hand toward the entrance.

Once inside, Hange took a moment to admire the downtown manor, pressing their lips together, nodding slowly in appreciation of the place’s elegance. Levi, however, wasn’t impressed. He was already pissed off—because of Zackly, because of the MPs, because of the damn door. His hands remained in his pockets, deep-set eyes locked onto the stairs with not even a hint of friendliness.

“The cat?” His voice cut through the tension, sharp and impatient. If he’d given them advance notice, then they should have been ready by now.

The butler barely reacted. “Please, wait here. The family is busy.”

Levi let the silence stretch, his patience thinner than ever. “I sent someone over four hours ago.”

Hange, sensing the storm brewing in him, reached out, placing a cautious hand on his shoulder. Their expression twisted into an uneasy grimace, a silent plea.

‘Let’s not make this harder.’

Levi had barely registered Hange’s silent plea when the muffled sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the grand hall. A moment later, a flustered servant appeared, carrying a wooden box with small air holes carved into its sides. The box wobbled precariously in his grip—not because it was heavy, but because a tiny pair of hands were clawing at it with desperate strength.

“Clauwy! Nooo!! Clauwy!!!”

The voice was shrill and thick with tears, and it belonged to a small, wild-haired girl stumbling after the servant in a fit of heartbreak. Her face was blotchy from crying, her little legs moving as fast as they could, though they barely kept up. She yanked at the box, nearly knocking it from the man’s grasp, her tiny fingers clinging like her life depended on it.

“Miss, please—” The servant tried to wrestle the box from her grip, his expression strained. It was clear he was struggling, not because she was particularly strong, but because she was the boss’s daughter—and he couldn't exactly shove her off.

Levi watched the scene unfold, eyebrows knitting together as the girl let out another wail, “Clauwy!!!”

‘Clauwy?’ He blinked.

Hange was biting their lip, either to keep from laughing or from making things worse. The servant finally managed to pry the girl’s fingers off, stumbling forward as he hastily presented Levi with the box. “Here, sir. The animal is inside. Everything needed and requested is included.”

Levi barely had time to grip the box before the little girl let out another sob and jumped, arms stretching toward it in a frantic attempt to snatch it back. Her high pitched scream made Hange go from entertainment to grimace in pain as the loud cry hurted the adult’s ears. LEvi clenched his teeth bearing himself to it but Hange whispered “Dear Sheena…” as if this was everything the commander needed to recall why they never had kids.

“Nooo, Clauwy!!” she howled, tiny hands grasping at the air. “Y/N is gonna never come back if Clauwy isn’t here!!”

At that, Levi stiffened. His sharp gaze flicked down to the girl, eyes narrowing slightly.

‘Y/N’s little sister.’

That was the only explanation.

The messy hair, the same teary eyes, the way her tiny fists balled up in frustration—it wasn’t hard to see the resemblance.

Levi exhaled quietly, shifting his stance. His grip on the box relaxed just a fraction as he crouched down, leveling himself with the child. She sniffled loudly, cheeks stained with tears, little lips quivering. The tears were not watery work as some kids did to get what they wanted, she was loudly and messily crying her eyes off.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure what the hell he was supposed to say.

But then, in a rare, softened tone, he spoke.

“Hey.”

The girl hiccupped, still glaring up at him with wet, accusing eyes.

Levi tilted his head slightly, nodding toward the box. “I’m taking him to Y/N. You don’t have to cry.”

The little girl’s breath hitched. Her brows knitted together, unsure whether to believe him. “Pwomise?”

Levi nodded once. “Promise.”

She sniffled again, rubbing at her puffy eyes with tiny fists. The violent wailing had subsided into shaky breaths, though doubt still lingered in her expression. "You… with Y/N?" she murmured, her voice small and filled with innocent curiosity.

Levi gave a short nod. "Yeah. She's with me."

Before he had time to react, the girl threw her arms around his jacket, clinging to him like a koala.

"I wanna be with Y/N!" she insisted, her tiny fists gripping the fabric tightly. She was so small that she barely weighed anything, but she nearly knocked him off balance in her desperation.

Levi instinctively steadied her with his free hand, his body tensing. "No, no. You’ve got your parents." He tried to pry her off, one hand awkwardly holding her in place to keep her from slipping. His voice carried an edge of unease—like this wasn’t the first time a child had latched onto him, looking for something he wasn’t sure how to give.

It all made sense when a commanding voice cut through the hallway.

"MAEVE!"

Levi turned his head, eyes narrowing at the elegantly dressed woman approaching from the corridor. She carried herself with an air of superiority, her gaze sharp, cold, and—more than anything—filled with contempt. A contempt Levi could barely understand but somehow reciprocated on instinct.

"Come here, this instant."

Maeve, still clinging to Levi as if he were her last lifeline, buried her tear-streaked face against his chest in fear.

Levi wasn't holding her back, but he wasn’t pushing her away either. A part of him reasoned it wasn’t his place to interfere with another’s parenting. Another part—something older, instinctual—bristled at the fear in the little girl’s eyes.

"Mae," the woman’s voice dropped lower, dangerously even, though the authority in it never wavered. "Do not make me come over there."

Levi remained in his crouch, though he wished he weren’t. Not because she intimidated him and neither was it that his height was towering—far from it—but because he wasn’t about to be ordered around like a misbehaving child.

She turned her glare on him. "You got what you came for. Don’t touch my daughter, and get out."

His voice was calm, but firm. “I’m married to your daughter.”

He let the words sink in. He knew the comment was about Maeve, but he wanted to remind her why he was here. “And you’re living in this house thanks to that. So next time, have the decency to receive me at the front door. And maybe bring a tea set."

The silence that followed felt like a battlefield.

The woman clenched her jaw, her pride clearly wounded. Levi, on the other hand, was holding back the urge to tell her a few things that would make the situation irreparable.

Eventually, the little girl loosened her grip just slightly, uncertainty still clouding her face, but her wobbly legs found the floor again. She pouted up at Levi. "Y/N...?"

Levi blinked. The words were mumbled and choked between sobs, but he caught enough of them to piece together what she meant.

“You draw too? Like your sister?” he asked.

The little girl nodded hesitantly.

He exhaled and adjusted the box under his arm. "Why don’t you give your drawings to your grandmother? She has my address. I bet Y/N will love them."

The idea seemed to ease something in her little mind. Her expression brightened just slightly—a wobbly, tear-stained smile forming.

"Okay..."

Then, as if remembering something urgent, she gasped and reached for the box. Levi lowered it just enough for her to hold it against her tiny chest, where she planted an exaggerated kiss on the top.

“Bye-bye, Clauwy,” she sniffled, waving at the wooden crate as if the cat inside could see her.

She then stepped back, allowing a nearby servant—who was no doubt assigned to escort her away without much fuss—to gently guide her down the hall.

With only adults left in the room, the woman stepped closer, lowering her voice to a venomous whisper. "Do not drag my daughters into this."

Levi barely batted an eye as he stood, shifting the box under his arm. He spat back, just as low, "Then don’t bring your daughter into this."

—

By the time they were making their way down the cobblestone streets, Hange finally broke the silence with a drawl of pure sarcasm. "Your in-laws adore you."

Levi scoffed, adjusting his grip on the box. "They fucking should. They’re out of jail thanks to me."

Hange hummed, amused. "Ahh, the foundation of every strong family bond."

They walked in silence for a few moments before Hange, who had been keeping an eye on the cargo, squinted. "Uh… Levi?"

"What?" Levi barely glanced at them.

"The box is leaking something."

Levi stopped dead in his tracks. "What."

His head snapped down, and sure enough, a suspiciously watery liquid was seeping through the bottom of the wooden crate. With a sharp sigh, he lifted it slightly, peering through the holes.

Inside, a pair of terrified cat eyes stared back at him—so wide, so frozen in fear, that it was almost comical.

Levi’s nose wrinkled. "Oh, for fuck’s sake."

Hange took a cautious step back. "Is that—?"

"The damn thing pissed itself." Levi scowled, glaring at the cat. "Tch. It’s gonna be fine, you idiot. Don’t shit yourself too."

Hange let out an obnoxious cackle. "That’s it! Use your daddy skills on the cat!"

Levi shot them a deadly glare. "Who do you think I am? Erwin?"

That only made Hange laugh harder.

—

Perhaps the unconscious side of his mind knew better than he did—it could foretell a prophecy and a future, much like some mystical oracle. At first, Levi wondered why he was wasting the precious little time he had left for sleep on dreaming pointless memories. But as soon as he recovered a bit of consciousness, he felt something heavy and warm on top of him. Blinking rapidly, trying to knock some sense into himself, the first thing that greeted him was a huge fur ball sprawled out like a bum on his chest, purring loudly.

It was one of those rare occasions when Levi had decided he needed to sleep more than just two or three hours, rather than curling over his desk or slumping in his chair. The migraine he suffered, the particular sluggish state of the previous day, and his lingering intoxication all signaled that this was one of those times when he needed to try for a normal night’s sleep. Usually he would use his bed, but his bed was, as usual, occupied by the new member of the household. So he rearranged one of the couch cushions, changed his uniform, and called it a day—even though “calling it a day” for him meant staring at the ceiling for a good couple of hours. On other occasions, he might have masturbated and taken a warm shower to help induce sleepiness; however, Y/N wanted to shower after him. The thought of him jerking off on a couch whose cover he couldn’t change, right next to the room where she slept, wasn’t very arousing.

The brownish-grey short blanket that barely covered his hips—originally meant for expeditions—hung loosely over him as he felt that the night was too warm for his taste. Moreover, the big animal on top of him served as a living pillow, radiating an inviting warmth that mingled with the humid air.

“Tch,” Levi cursed as he abruptly woke up. “You’re supposed to be sleeping with your owner, not me.”

But the cat, as if interpreting any suggestion from Levi as a personal challenge, stretched upward—making Levi grimace as though suddenly the animal weighs 500 tons, its teeny tiny paws seeming to carry an impossible burden. Then it knocked its head against Levi’s face and curled up even closer.

“No,” Levi groaned, only for the cat to start licking his face with its paper-thin, sandpapery tongue. “For fuck’s sake, not with the tongue you use to clean your ass,” he barked, moving his head away in disgust. If falling asleep was already a struggle with a huge fur ball curled around his head purring like a machine, it wasn’t going to become any easier.

The paper-thin white curtains waged a constant battle against the early morning sun. For the past month, the weather had undergone an unstoppable change—the temperatures rising even at night. The chimney, where she had once warmed herself on the night she arrived, had been cleaned and relegated to a storage space where, on occasion, a small fire was kindled to boil water for Levi’s late-night tea. The bedroom, which had seemed foreign to her on the first night, had now been completely conquered, making it hard to sleep past a certain hour. Each day, the sun filtered in a little earlier, illuminating the entire space with a relentless glow.

Restlessly contorting on the bed, she tried to tug the blanket over her head to escape the scorching early summer sun. But it did little to help—not only were Levi’s blankets short and itchy, but breathing beneath the cover was unbearably warm. The fact that Levi had never noticed the curtains didn’t actually cover anything betrayed either his hectic early schedule or the fact that he rarely slept in that room. Waking up hungry was the first thing she noticed, and that realization motivated her to leave the bed.

Usually, she enjoyed the morning—though Levi hardly considered anything past 8 a.m. as truly morning. Even after living there for an entire month, the place still didn’t feel like hers, especially when Levi was around. Sharing the four walls with him made her feel self-conscious, as if she were merely a guest staying over for a short visit, forced to display her best behavior and wear her finest clothes. It made her wonder if this was something that couples eventually got used to. When he left, she was usually asleep; when he returned, she was already dressed, her hair done, and presentable. Perhaps it was because her mother had always maintained a polished appearance around the house, or maybe it was due to the lack of true intimacy in their relationship—but when he wasn’t around, she felt as though the place belonged entirely to her.

Without giving a second thought, she crawled out of the bed and opened the bedroom door. That small act already struck her as odd, making her frown. Levi had never closed the door when she was inside, and neither did she; for her, it still felt like a loss of control over her personal space. There was little time to rationalize this sentiment, however, as a squeak of surprise mixed with delight echoed through the chambers.

“Aww! Good morning, sleepy beauty!”

Y/N stood frozen as she locked eyes with the brunette seated at Levi’s desk. Instantly, she tried to wrap her arms around herself—her whitish, slightly translucent camisole leaving little to the imagination, and she feared the worst. But before she could even reconsider enclosing herself back in the bedroom, Hange rose and walked over to her. “I’ve been meaning to finally meet you!” the newcomer exclaimed.

The hug was unexpected but a welcome surprise. It took her a little while to process it before she hugged back, delighted to receive such a clear expression of affection. Only to add to the surprise, Hange swayed slightly to the side, tightening the embrace and eliciting a sincere chuckle from the omega girl. For her, the random stranger who had been enjoying breakfast with her newly proclaimed husband was a delightful presence. As for Levi, he could see—through his deadpan expression—how Hange savored the aroma of her hair, smirking cheekily as if the low-class alpha had just won some trivial inner competition.

When they parted, Hange rested their hands on her upper arms. “You can call me Hange—I’m Levi’s bestie, even if shortie denies it.”

“Ah,” she said, smiling in a slightly confused yet relieved manner, as if her life were slowly returning to normal. Now she could go out; she had met the important people in her husband’s life. What should have been the usual “Nice to—” was cut short when Hange added, “I’m also the commander, but don’t take it too seriously,” as if it were nothing. The remark immediately silenced any response she might have offered, forcing her to press her lips together in shock and blush heavily as she looked down at her pajamas and bare feet.

“I’m so sorry,” she hesitated, but Hange laughed it off.

“Do not worry, you look great!” they insisted. “I swear, you’re a beauty—a cutie and a beauty.” The comment made her blush even more, especially when Hange pinched one of her cheeks. “Right, Levi, isn’t she a cutie?”

‘That was absolutely unnecessary and uncalled for,’ Levi thought immediately, trying not to choke on the tea he was drinking at the unexpected turn of conversation. He coughed a bit as the liquid reacted to the shock; he had not paid attention until now that his so-called best friend had decided to put him in the spotlight. His eyes silently conveyed his inner exclamation of “What the fuck, dude? That was UNNECESSARY,” but Hange maintained a sassy, unaffected grimace.

Almost breathless, Levi groaned a bit, “Yeah,” as if the words had been forced out of him at gunpoint rather than being genuine. Or so it seemed to her. Y/N admired the scene first with thankfulness and hope, then with confusion, and finally with a resigned sense of broken hope. ‘He truly can’t even stand me,’ she thought.

For Levi, the cough that had erupted initially was forced out, stretching his moment of embarrassment before he resumed drinking his tea to hide his subtle blush. He wasn’t one to give compliments—not because he didn’t feel them, but because he wasn’t good with them. Being thrust into the spotlight and forced to offer a compliment only revealed his best: a feigned indifference.

Hange, who thought it was a good occasion to coax the Captain into a sweet gesture, had left the room heavy with uneasiness. “Let’s have breakfast, shall we?” the brunette said, placing a hand behind Y/N’s back and gently guiding her toward the desk. But she refused.

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother during a meeting, sir,” she explained, already resolving that from now on she would check before opening the door. Perhaps, now that she wasn’t enclosed, Levi could return to his usual routine of holding meetings at his place—or so she guessed, for since her arrival, neither of them had ever experienced a normal routine.

“It’s Hange,” they insisted, “and we’re not having a meeting—we’re just having breakfast. Well… more like eating your cookies, but sure.”

That slowly convinced her to follow them further into the room, although there wasn’t much further to go since the space was rather small.

“Her cookies?” Levi asked casually. “I pay for those.”

“If that’s the case, they’re my cookies—I pay the salary that you use to pay for the cookies,” Hange retorted sarcastically as they sat down.

“I thought you said you didn’t choose salaries. Give me a fucking raise then.”

Levi exhaled sharply through his nose as he leaned back in his chair, watching Hange shamelessly steal another cookie from the tin. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more—the way Hange ate with no remorse or the fact that he had been roped into this conversation in the first place.  

Y/N, still blushing from the earlier interaction, carefully sat down at the table. She reached for a slice of bread, but her mind was already elsewhere—on the trip ahead.  

“Eat quickly,” Levi told her, tone clipped. “We’re leaving for Trost soon. I was about to wake you up, anyway.”  

Y/N blinked in surprise. “Oh. This early?”  

Levi took a sip of his tea.’God… I don’t actually believe in you but… bless me patience,’

Hange chuckled. “You’re acting like we’re on some mission, Levi. Trost isn’t going anywhere.”  

Levi shot them a tired glare ‘Whose side are you?’ He silently asked as if he needed someone to back him up for once since his life had been turned upside down. Then he turned back to Y/N. “So eat and get ready. We need to leave soon.”  

Y/N nodded, already thinking ahead. She had never been to Trost before, but she knew it was much livelier than their usual surroundings—filled with markets, shops, and well-dressed people going about their daily lives. For the first time in a long while, she would be in a real city, not just cooped up in Levi’s quarters or wandering the military compound.  

Excitement fluttered in her chest. “I’ll be quick. I just need to get dressed.” She silently clapped her hands in quite excitement “I’ll wear that floral dress I’ve been saving,”

As she spoke, Levi could almost see and hear everything that was about to unfold before his eyes in the middle of the city. “What’s wrong with your usual dresses?”

She frowned. “I want to wear something nice for the trip.”  

His expression didn’t change, but his gaze sharpened slightly. “There’s no need for that. Just wear something simple.”  

“But—”  

“It’s better if we don’t draw attention.”  

Her excitement flickered, her shoulders tensing. “We’re going to a city, not sneaking around like criminals.”  

Levi had a bad habit of keeping things to himself and making little to no effort to explain the reasons behind his decisions. This habit made her bite her inner cheek in annoyance; he simply ordered around as if they were following a strict chain of command rather than working together on this arrangement. “Exactly. A city means more people, more eyes, and more chances for someone to be an issue. You already stand out enough as it is. There's no need to make it worse.”

Y/N stiffened. She wasn’t sure what annoyed her more—the implication that she was some sort of problem or the fact that he was, yet again, making decisions for her. “I just want to look nice.”  

“You already are,” he said. In his mind, he was protecting her—for her, he was controlling every step she took as if she were a toddler. “I don’t want to deal with people staring at us.”

‘First the room, then his squad, now this. Who are you hiding me from?’ Her mind began to construct ideas, though many were based on little more than a shaky foundation. She felt like a prisoner of his relentless attempts to keep her undercover.

Her fingers curled into her lap. “So what? I’m supposed to walk around looking dull just because you don’t want to be bothered?”  

“Not dull,” he corrected. “Just —

Y/N huffed, frustration bubbling in her chest. She wanted to argue—to snap back that she didn’t need him controlling what she wore. At the same time, she wanted her space to be respected. ‘Like it or not, I’m your wife! Give me ONE chance to feel like I’m not a prisoner,’ she thought. But before she could say anything, Hange clapped their hands together, breaking the tension.

“Well! I say we leave a little later then,” Hange announced cheerfully. “No need to rush. Let her get ready how she wants. She’ll look gorgeous no matter what, right?” They shot Levi a pointed look.  

Levi exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly not pleased and not in the mood to argue further. He just grunted in response.

‘Don't listen to me—I was born yesterday. In fact, I'm stupid,’ Levi thought, for him the outcome was as clear as possible. ‘Don't come back pouting at me when you realize I was damn right.’

Y/N turned to Hange, eyebrows raised. “Wait… you’re coming?”  

Hange tilted their head. “Of course I am! What, did you think you and Levi were just going on a little honeymoon getaway?” They wiggled their eyebrows playfully before taking another bite of a cookie.  

Y/N felt her face heat up again. “No, I just—”  

“We’re going for business,” Hange reminded her with a smirk. “In case you forgot, there’s a whole reason behind this trip, and it’s not sightseeing.”  

Her lips parted slightly in realization. Right. Of course. Business. Glancing at Levi as waiting for some guidance. He didn’t look at her, just continued drinking his tea as if the whole argument hadn’t happened.

Y/N hurried excitedly into the room, and as soon as she was out of the chambers, Hange bent over the desk to whisper to the Captain, “Don’t be so constipated—let her have this.”

Levi clenched his teeth. The day before yesterday’s little tantrum about going to Trost, and now this. He wasn’t one to take being disrespected in his decisions lightly. “I know what I’m doing,” he whispered back, his tone biting with each word.

“And what are you doing?” the commander retorted, raising a single eyebrow with a grimace of confusion mixed with exasperation. “Being a bitch?”

Like a tired mother who might exclaim, “I’d like to see all of you the day I die!” Levi raised his hands in the air, pressed his lips together, and stood up—silently declaring that he was going to wait and see, wait and see how right he was.

“By the way,” Hange added with their mouth full, “I preferred it when she didn’t stink to you.”

“Could you try not to hit on my wife for five fucking minutes?” he said, exhausted, only to win a cheeky chuckle from the brunette.

He was ready—ready a long while ago. A casual white shirt, dark trousers, knee-high boots, sleeves rolled up. Deep breath in, deep breath out. His grey eyes stared at the abyss before he loudly exclaimed, “I’m leaving in THREE, TWO—”

”I’M READY!” Y/N adjusted the wide-brimmed hat over her head, making sure it sat just right before stepping out of the bathroom. The sunflower dress she had chosen was light and airy, perfect for the warm weather, and the soft fabric swayed gently around her knees as she moved. She felt… nice. Presentable. Even a little excited.

Levi was already at the door, checking the lock one last time to make sure the cat wouldn’t escape while they were gone. His back was turned to her, but she still lifted her chin slightly, expecting something. A comment, maybe. Not a compliment—he was terrible at those—but at least some acknowledgment.

Levi turned around, his eyes flicking over her in a quick assessment.

And that was when it hit him. ‘Great. Just fucking great. She looks freaking cute, and I’m forced to have sharper senses than when I was trying not to get killed by that monkey’s rocks.’

The damn dress, the stupid hat, the way the sunlight hit her just right—he could already feel the stares they were bound to attract. He could almost hear Hange’s teasing and see the way people would gape. And worst of all, he knew she was waiting for a reaction. He wasn’t stupid; he could see in her expectant eyes that she was standing up straight, her hands clasped in front of her, her gaze innocent yet hopeful. Or perhaps he was a little stupid, because when cornered to say something nice, his best option was to play dead and freeze like a possum.

“Finally,” he muttered, turning back to the lock as if her entire effort had gone unnoticed.

Y/N’s shoulders dropped slightly, her excitement dimming at his lack of response. ‘That’s it?’ Her disappointment was so clear as she pouted while he pushed open the door, stepping outside without even sparing her a second glance. She bent down to press a kiss on the cat’s head and whispered, “Love ya, baby.”

By the time she followed him out, he was already locking the office behind them, the keys jingling as he secured every bolt.

“You should wear different shoes,” he said without looking up.

Y/N glanced down at her feet. The shoes in question were a delicate pair of heeled sandals, the only ones that really matched her outfit. “They’re fine,” she argued.

“It’s a long trip,” he countered. “You’re gonna regret it.”

She huffed. “I’ll be fine.”

Levi shot her a look, unimpressed. He could already picture it—halfway through the day, she’d be complaining about sore feet, and he’d be the one stuck dealing with it. But if she wanted to be stubborn about it, fine. He wasn’t going to argue over a pair of shoes.

“Suit yourself,” he muttered, stepping down onto the corridor.

They barely made it a few steps before a group of cadets passed by, chatting among themselves. One of them, recognizing Y/N, perked up immediately.

“Good morning, ma’am!” a young soldier greeted with a bright smile. Then they performed the military salute, moving stiffly with the sides of their boots clacking against each other in the process. “Sir,”

Y/N, caught off guard but pleased, smiled back just as enthusiastically. “Oh! Good morning!”

The cadets all nodded in respect before continuing on their way, but Y/N’s cheerful response seemed to echo in Levi’s ears like a goddamn church bell.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing his temple as he walked beside her. “Tch. You don’t have to greet every damn person you see.”

She shot him a side glance, amused. “They greeted me first. Should I have ignored them?”

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

Levi didn’t answer. He just kept walking, already dreading how long this trip was going to feel.

At the front doors of the barracks, a group of cadets waited with varying degrees of patience. Jean paced back and forth, arms crossed, his brows furrowed as he glanced toward the office.

"What the hell is taking them so long?" he grumbled.

Mikasa, standing beside him with her usual deadpan expression, shrugged slightly. "Maybe she got lost in the corridors," she suggested.

"Lost?" Jean snorted. "It’s a damn building, not a maze."

"She’s new here?" Armin pointed out as if it was obvious, adjusting his collar.

Jean hesitated before scoffing. "Well, yes, but—"

"There you go," Mikasa cut in.

Before Jean could argue, Sasha suddenly clapped her hands together, her eyes practically sparkling. "Guys, focus," she whispered excitedly. "This is a golden opportunity!"

Jean, Connie, and Sasha all exchanged knowing looks, their grins spreading mischievously.

Eren, standing a little behind them, narrowed his eyes. "What’s a golden opportunity?"

Connie immediately pulled him into a huddle, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Armin and Mikasa were dragged in next, forming a tight circle like a football team plotting their next big play.

Jean took the lead, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Alright, listen up. Captain Levi is well-known in Trost."

"No kidding," Armin muttered.

"Shh!" Jean hushed him. "The point is, he's famous, but he never—never—pays attention to street vendors, food stalls, or anything fun."

Sasha gasped dramatically. "A tragedy, truly."

"But!" Jean continued, raising a finger. "The people of Trost will definitely be eager to pamper his new wife." He leaned in closer, voice dripping with excitement. "Which means—"

"Free food!" Sasha finished, eyes gleaming.

"Free stuff," Connie corrected, practically bouncing on his feet. "I bet we could score more than just food."

"Like what? Socks?" Eren asked, raising a skeptical brow.

"Yes, Eren, socks," Connie said, rolling his eyes. "And maybe some new boots, a hat, a nice bottle of whiskey—who knows?"

Jean nodded. "All we gotta do is make sure Y/N walks near the best vendors and looks interested. The rest will handle itself."

Sasha pumped her fist. "We need to make her look hungry! I can do that!"

"You are always hungry," Mikasa pointed out flatly.

Sasha beamed. "Exactly! I’ll be her coach!"

Armin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is ridiculous."

"No, this is genius," Connie corrected. "Think about it! Levi would never let us go around sampling food like tourists, but if it’s for his wife?" He smirked. "He’d look like a jerk if he stopped it."

Eren groaned. "I can’t believe I’m listening to this."

Jean smirked, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "That’s because you know it’s a solid plan."

Armin exhaled, shaking his head. "You do realize there’s a possibility Levi will find out and murder us all, right?"

A brief silence followed.

Then Sasha shrugged. "Worth it."

Jean clapped his hands together. "Alright, team! Stick to the plan. Act natural, but not too natural."

Connie pointed dramatically toward the office. "Operation 'Use the Captain’s Wife to Score Free Stuff' is a go!"

And with that, the squad dispersed, their grins full of anticipation as they awaited Y/N’s arrival.

“Y/N!” The enthusiastic cheer of her name echoed down the training ground, momentarily confusing her, but she quickly adapted. Her happiness for the day immediately matched that of the cadets as she hurried up to meet them.

“Hi, sweeties,” she called out, rushing forward to hug the squad members—except for Eren, who remained distant despite her approach. “Good morning,” she added warmly.

Meanwhile, Levi stayed behind, slowly approaching the weathered wooden cart they were about to take. He made no haste to join the others, instead raising a silent eyebrow at the suspicious attitude that seemed to hang in the air. However, Hange reached the cart first and whispered to the team, “Way less, guys, way less.” It was as if the six teenagers and the commander shared one single brain cell, all arriving at the same conclusion for the trip, their plan guided by the voice of experience.

“The cat isn’t coming?” Mikasa asked, her tone almost disappointed. That question made Y/N’s eyes sparkle with a newfound idea; her mouth opened as she looked back at Levi, but before she could even say anything, he interjected firmly:

“Do not even dream of it.”

Pouting immediately as her expression changed, she retorted, “I didn’t say anything!”

“The answer is still no,”

“Why are we taking the cart? We’d go ten times faster on horseback,” Eren pointed out, sparking a domino effect as the rest of the squad immediately jumped in with similar complaints.

“Yeah, why not just ride?”

“It’d be way quicker.”

“Are we seriously taking the slowest option?”

Y/N hesitated, shifting on her feet as the sudden attention made her stomach twist. “I… I don’t know how to ride,” she admitted, her voice quiet, shame creeping in as she noticed how the squad tried—really tried—to force understanding smiles.

“I—I could ride with you,” Jean blurted, his excitement so obvious it practically scented the air.

Levi, who had been silent up until now, slowly turned to give him a long, deadpan stare. No words. No expression. Just the weight of his gaze pressing down like a boulder.

Jean visibly deflated. “Or… maybe not,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he quickly took it back, feeling the unspoken threat in the older Alpha’s presence.

The ride to Trost was, thankfully, uneventful. The cart rumbled over uneven stone paths, the steady clatter of hooves filling the otherwise quiet morning. The cadets, in contrast, were anything but quiet. They chatted excitedly, cracking jokes and speculating about what they would do once they arrived. Y/N soaked up the energy, enjoying their excitement, though Levi, sitting beside her with arms crossed, remained as unimpressed as ever.

By the time they reached the outskirts of Trost, the sun was already climbing high, casting long shadows over the busy streets. The closer they got to the heart of the city, the more people crowded the roads, bustling about their business. Levi pulled the cart to a stop near the entrance to the inner district, hopping off with practiced ease before turning to the group.

“We’ll be meeting back here before sundown,” he announced, his sharp gaze sweeping over the cadets. “That gives you plenty of time to do whatever it is you want. You’re old enough to manage that much.”

Jean pumped a fist into the air, grinning. “Hell yeah, free roam.”

Armin sighed dramatically. “This is a mistake. they are not responsible enough for this.”

“Don’t worry, Armin, I’ll supervise,” Connie smirked. But Armin glanced back at the other beta, his brows knitting together, unable to hide the fact that his words had been anything but reassuring.

Levi, ignoring them, turned to Y/N. “You stick to me.”

The words hit her like a slap. She blinked, stunned for a second, then frowned deeply. “What?”

He didn’t even spare her a glance as he tightened the straps on his gear. “You heard me.”

But to his surprise, the cadets follow him closely behind. “What?”

But to his surprise, the cadets followed closely behind. Too closely.

“What?” Levi’s narrowed gaze flicked back at them.

“Oh, we just—” Sasha stuttered, visibly scrambling for a decent excuse. “We want to spend time with you, Cap!”

Hange did a full-face palm, exhaling loudly. As if anything would have been more convincing than that.

“Aye, aye, we’re all headed in the same direction, so let’s stick together,” the commander cut in, plastering on a way-too-obviously fake cheerful smile as they pushed the cadets forward.

Y/N, on the other hand, stood frozen for a moment, feeling irritation simmer under her skin. They got to wander freely, but she had to stick by his side like a lost child? “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath as she stomped after him.

Levi didn’t react. He didn’t have to. 

As the not-so-happy couple grumbled their way ahead, the rest of the squad lagged a few steps behind. Hange leaned in with a low murmur. “You guys are horrible at this.”

Connie protested, puffing out his chest—only for Hange to ruffle his hair like an annoying older sibling. “Are you any better?”

The brunette grinned triumphantly, looking more like a mischievous cadet than the highest-ranking in the Corps. “Me? Levi’s influence has been funding my trips for the past six years.”

The squad collectively blinked at them before Jean muttered, “Respect.”

But as they made their way deeper into Trost, her frustration was quickly overtaken by something else.

The city was buzzing with life, vendors calling out their wares, children weaving between adults, and chatter filling the air. Yet as soon as Levi stepped onto the main road, the atmosphere subtly shifted.

People noticed him.

Heads turned, whispers spread like wildfire, and before long, the greetings started.

“Captain Levi!”

“It’s really him!”

“Good morning, sir!”

Men straightened their postures, women gasped in admiration, and children pointed in awe. A few brave ones even ran up to him, eyes shining.

Levi, as usual, barely reacted. He nodded when necessary, offered the occasional “Hello,” 

At first, Y/N found it amusing—fascinating, even. Seeing him get this much admiration, this much respect, was unlike anything she’d experienced before. But then, she started noticing something else.

They were looking at her too.

Not with admiration.

With confusion.

Some whispered amongst themselves, glancing her way before quickly turning back. A few openly stared. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she caught faint traces of scent lingering in the air—mostly Betas, but here and there, a few Omegas and Alphas stood out. Most of them weren’t high-bred, but every so often, a stronger scent cut through the rest, sharp and unmistakable.

Y/N slowed her steps, unease creeping up her spine. Her gaze flickered toward Sasha and Mikasa, their simple, practical outfits blending easily into the crowd. Then she glanced down at herself—her soft, feminine dress, the ring on her finger, the way the fabric swayed with every step. Finally, her eyes shifted back to the citizens.

The Omegas whispered behind cupped hands, sneaking glances at her before looking away with knowing expressions. The Alphas, on the other hand, looked perplexed—some furrowing their brows, others tilting their heads slightly as if trying to solve a puzzle. A few even smiled at her, their interest apparent.

Y/N suddenly felt as though she could hear every unspoken thought in the air around her.

"Married but unclaimed? What’s wrong with her?"

The realization settled in her stomach like a stone. She wasn’t just being stared at—she was being judged. Scrutinized. Questioned.

The overwhelming urge to disappear struck her like a slap. If she could just melt into the cadets, slip unnoticed into their little group, maybe she’d escape the weight of all those eyes. But it was too late for that. She’d wanted to stand out. Now she was paying for it.

Without thinking, she scooted closer to Levi, her fingers twitching at her sides. She hesitated, then glanced up at him with uncertain, almost pleading eyes.

Levi, however, didn’t need to say a single word. The look he shot her—deadpan, unimpressed, and laced with I told you so—was louder than any scolding could ever be.

Author note: Hi, how are all of you doing? Did you miss me? Haha! I actually have, like... a million things to share, so first things first. I know this chapter is a little dull, BUT the real chapter is 16k words—and believe it or not, NOBODY reads a chapter that’s over 6k. My years in fandom have taught me that TikTok has murdered attention spans, and nobody reads a fic over 6k on Tumblr (AO3 is a different story). Now, since I cross-post here, it would be weird to post the full 16k chapter on AO3 but not here. So, this Wednesday, I’ll post the second part, which, in my opinion, is the BEST part of the chapter. But well... Now, onto other news. A lot of people have been asking me, "Only 15 chapters? The story won’t wrap up that quickly!" The 15 chapters were just an estimate based on what I wanted each chapter to include. Then, I realized they kept surpassing 6k, so I had to cut them into parts, which naturally led to more chapters. So don’t worry—this story STILL has plenty of chapters planned! Now, about last Wednesday—I didn’t update as planned. Why? Well, here come the biggest news! Some of you may already know that I’m from Argentina. I’ve been working toward moving because the situation in my home country (and town) is really tricky, and I want to be in a better position to help my mom and family. Last Friday, I had my visa interview, and I was so anxious and stressed about it that I simply didn’t have time to post. I was double-checking all my papers, preparing for the interview questions, planning my trip to the capital city, etc. Good news? 🎉 THIS GIRL IS MOVING TO AUSTRIA, GUYS!! 🎉 I GOT MY VISA! T-T More updates! After being asked so many times (T-T), I finally opened my first Discord server! It’s for Levi fans, and the rules are over on Discord. If anyone wants to join, feel free! ❤️ We’re still a small group, and I’m trying to keep it tight-knit. (I also share story spoilers there—just saying 👀👉👈) -> https://discord.gg/VnGXsKbC LAST—but definitely not least! I have one art commission slot left! If anyone wants it, feel free to ask. 😊 Love you all! I swear I’ve been reading all your comments, and they’re honestly what’s been giving me strength lately. My life is so chaotic right now, but knowing you’re all enjoying my fics means the world. Also—I was recently mentioned on TikTok about my fics and T-T OMG, it feels like a dream come true! Okay, okay, I’ll stop rambling now. Love ya, guys! ❤️

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[goquokka00]

SKZ vs. Shark Week (Felix ver.)

How would each member of Stray Kids handle you while you're on your period?

BANGCHAN | MINHO | CHANGBIN | HYUNJIN JISUNG | FELIX | SEUNGMIN | JEONGIN

WARNING: This is a female reader going through their period. If the topic of a period/anything that has to do with a period makes you uncomfortable, then don't read it. Just remember that there's nothing wrong with a woman's period. It's a perfectly healthy body function :)

THE MOODS It was very safe to say that you were an absolute wreck. Not necessarily because you were all over the place emotionally, but because you were just extremely sensitive. One tiny little compliment that Felix gave you would make you cry. One little critique would make you cry. The cute puppy that lived across the hall? It made you cry.

And so, Felix made an effort to always be with you. Any time you started crying, he'd instantly scoop you into his arms and coo to you, babying you with everything he had. While he was usually your baby, when you got emotional like this, you were his. And he'd do everything in his power to make you feel all better.

You want kisses? He's gonna douse you in them. You want to be held? Great! Felix won't let you go. You want him close? Felix will melt into you, nuzzle your cheek with his, and squeeze you until you feel better. You don't want any of that? Too bad. He'll do it anyway.

THE BLOOD You actually don't bleed that much. Your flow is really light, but it lasts a long, long time. And Felix couldn't be more thankful. Why? Because he could still get his cuddles while you bled and lay with you. What more, you were willing to go out and do things with him.

You didn't feel gross because you didn't have a swimming pool of blood in your pants, hell, you didn't have to double up on products, either. You could easily get away with just using panty liners most of the time. Simple as that. And Felix couldn't be more grateful that his girl was somewhat functional.

THE PAIN While your period was nice to you in the blood regard, it was NOT nice to you during the other symptoms that occurred. There wasn't necessarily pain, but you did tend to stay up way later. Why? Because you sweated like a mad man during the night. You'd get hot, then you'd get grumpy, and then you'd just want to sprawl and not be anywhere near Felix.

And while Felix was a bit upset by that, and wanted to cuddle like you both normally did, he also understood that you were just uncomfortable with sleeping in the same bed. He would be too if he was creating a new ocean made entirely of sweat where he was laying.

And so, he would go and sleep in the dorms at night, only to come right back the next day to be with you in case you needed anything.

THE PRODUCT Because Felix has two sisters, I feel like he'd be pretty comfortable with the sight of period products. He knew the ins and outs of it really well, and so he was more than happy to help out where he could. The one thing he was a bit hesitant on was going and getting the products for you.

It wasn't that he didn't want to because it was weird or embarrassing, no no no. He just really didn't want to slip up and get the wrong ones. Even if you were to write down exactly what you need and send a picture to him, he'd still be nervous that it wasn't the right ones, and that he failed you (even though he's incapable of failing anyone).

And when it comes to the waste, Felix just...doesn't want to look. He doesn't like the sight of blood in any shape or form, and so if he does accidentally see it, he'll just come to you and hesitantly ask you if next time, you could possibly cover the blood a bit more so he doesn't have to see it. And you do it, because he's too precious to argue with.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d @skzlover24

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Jungkook as a Boyfriend

Disclaimer: No facts, all alleged, just my interpretation.

Alright, time to get to another person I am excited to do and see what I can get for him as a boyfriend. So, I will do four sections. The first one will be their light traits. The second will be their shadow traits. Third part I will go into their sexual energy as a partner. The last will be any final messages or anything else I can get and also any improvements they can make.

Light traits as a boyfriend:

He is someone who will do anything for love and find the love of his dreams. Once he has that person. He will do what it takes to keep that person and to keep their attention. I say he may want his person just to fall in love with him over and over again.

He will be about romantic gestures, buying gifts, doing sweet things for his person to make them happy and show his love in many ways. I can see him surprising his partner with flowers, gifts, or anything they desire. He will spoil his partner a lot. He will do whatever it takes to put a smile on their face.

I see him being someone who wants to inspire his partner and motivate them to do well. I see him have lots of wisdom and sharing that with his partner. They can go to him, and he will help lift their spirits and have some motivational words to say to them. It is like they would feel at ease around him.

He seems like a cuddler. Someone who would hold his partner dear to him and comfort them whenever they needed. Like if they have a bad day. He would just hold his person. I can see him also be a good friend and someone who just listens to his partner. He seems like a simple person when it comes to love, he just loves and isn't too complicated about things.

I see him having ideas to try new things together and will have plans to do those things with his partner. There will always be some new things he brings to the table. I think he just wants to try new things to keep the love alive and to not let things get too boring. So, he would come up with new things to keep things alive.

This was cute and I expected it to be this way.

Shadow traits as a boyfriend:

Okay, to start of he can be a bit of liar, and not always tell the truth. Also, he is very honest, a bit too honest, so he can be brutally honest to his partner and won't be afraid to tell it how it is. If you done something stupid, he will say it. He doesn't hold back on communication. Also, this man will always have something say, and that can get annoying. So, I find it funny that he can lie, but also be honest, he picks and choose when he wants to do that.

He can be a bit childish, yeah that will pop, a bit immature. He can be hard to reason with at times. And there could be some childhood wounds that pop up. I feel he does have some abandonment issues, also peter pan syndrome of struggling to grow up, be an adult, and take responsibility for things. He may struggle to own up to his mistakes.

Abandonment issues will pop up. He will cling to his partner and there will be a struggle to be alone, so time apart can be difficult. He may guilt his partner to stay with him and not leave, may even guilt trip them. I wonder if this stems from his relationship with Mom. He was shipped off very young, I believe 15, so there seems to be abandonment issues there and that will bleed onto his partners and this strong desire and need to belong.

He does seem to have this arrogance to him. This need to be right, a strong competitive spirit. So, it will be hard for his partner to get a say in at times. He may struggle to listen to his partner if there is a disagreement. He also acts impulsively, so he may do dumb stuff in the moment, not sure what that looks like, but that could end up messing up the relationship.

Also, he seems to be way too logical and strategic at times. He may not pay too much attention to the emotional aspect of things or how things can emotionally affect his partner. He may see things as too black and white without the regards of the perspective of his partner. It is like to him it all makes sense, it is logical, but he disregards his partners feeling and thoughts on things. It is like he is way too rational and would struggle to understand why his partner is upset.

Sexual energy as a boyfriend:

Okay, he is an enthusiastic, adventurous, carefree, spontaneous and experimental lover. He enjoys exploring new things and having fun when it comes to sex. I see him being a generous lover but also being honest about what he wants and what he doesn't like. I don't see him having many boundaries and he enjoys taking risk.

I do see there is trauma when it comes to sex, and that is something he will need to heal, and he may do that in the process of sex with his partner. There are lots of wounds and pain there. But this can be a healing journey with the person he loves and who can tend to his wounds and be kind and patient with him.

This man does have a strong desire and a strong sex drive. He needs to be careful with this Mars energy, it is very primal and aggressive, so that aggressive and competitive energy can be released through the passion of sex, or in the moment. There is this impulse to have sex with his person. He will be pretty needy when it comes to sex and may desire it a lot. And I am seeing this desire to overpower his partner and dominate them.

He does seem like someone who is very experienced when it comes to sex and seems to obtain a lot of knowledge, so you are in for a ride with him. I say he is someone who knows what he is doing. He knows exactly what to do for both parties to achieve their peak. He does tend to cling to the past, this may be his past trauma, or past lovers, and whatever happened their bleeds into his sex life in the present as well.

Final messages/improvements:

Okay, so the High Priestess flew out so quick, so that is an important message for him. I was kind of confused what that meant at first, but I think they want him to do some inner work, before developing a relationship. To get the answers he needs to look from within, but to also be patient and to not rush things and try to quickly find the one.

That this process takes time, but overall, he needs to go within and find happiness within himself instead of seeking a partner to fulfill his needs. It is like he may feel finding a partner will just answer all his concerns and questions and it won't, going within does that. He may need some time for himself to figure that out, but not sure he will give himself that time.

I think there could be someone in his life that could be a good fit for him. He would need someone just as passionate as him and creative, someone charming, magnetic and who emits warmth, strength and inspiration. I wonder if this person lives in a different country, hmm. They may be a performer too. It is like he would work well with another creative person, a person of passion, someone pretty similar to him, but also has their differences so they can learn from each other. They both can help each other and create something beautiful together. Also, they both need to have a strong pull and attraction towards another.

I wanted to close this out, but I was pulled towards another deck. He should play around with ideas, have fun with things, maybe date around more, and not just cling to one person, which seems contradicting, because isn't there a specific someone that I mentioned above, or they are showing characteristics he should look for that could fit what would work best for him, that could be it, so there may not be a specific person at the moment. I am being shown those are the traits he should look for.

They also want him to live out his fantasy or what he envisions, so if there is something he wants out of love and relationships to stop living in a fantasy and start making it a reality. It is like you create your reality, so he needs to do that. It is like the person he may want to seek and may feel it is right for him. He doesn't go after them, as he may feel he isn't good enough or it won't work out, but they are saying for him to go for it.

Hmm, this was as interesting as I thought. I will close it here. This was fun. Hope you enjoyed this, and I do hope he finds love and healing.

[mechanical-sunchild]

I don't deny that a science-based approach is fine for the cases above, but there are many kinds of physical alterhumans with many different beliefs. Not all are making claims of shapeshifting*. Is there really no room for discussion of physical-based alterhumanity as truth of any kind, due to the actions of groups in the past and this 'need' for evidence?

I feel *this is a factor which is repeatedly ignored even when directly brought up. Many of you here seem to have a problem with this specific kind of physical nonhuman - the one who claims they can, have, will etc shapeshift into their true form - and only really talk about them as reason why all physical alterhumans require the same treatment.

But what about those who are not saying they have shapeshifted or can shapeshift?

To go back to an earlier statement. There are trans people who say things like; "I am a woman, therefore I have a woman's body. I am a man, therefore I have a man's body." They are speaking in a possessive sense but saying something about their physical perceptions of self too. Would it not be considered rude to tell them 'well actually, scientifically speaking, you are not what you just said. You are physically not a woman/man but it's fine that you see yourself as one internally'.

I'm sure many trans people have personal stories where their mental health was worse when they also made themselves believe that one day they would just wake up in the right body, but our personal experiences should not be applied to every person who experiences a similar thing.

The metaphor is not exact though, of course. I only call back to it because it was used previously.

But let's think of the physical alterhuman whose entire physical claims are the same.

"I am an android, therefore I have an android's body." as I see myself, in fact. I can't prove to you, I suppose, that this is beneficial to my own mental health and not a negative. I know this is scientifically impossible and not technically 'real' in that sense, but I can't stop the way my internal perceptions of self have influenced how I perceive my body too. Holothere is a world that I choose for myself so I can express this. Shall I just not talk about this aspect of myself because it can't be externally scientifically proven? Shall I just pretend I only feel like an android on a non-physical level for the comfort of others? That feels terribly unfair. Other words for what I feel do not match me.

Let's think of the physical alterhuman who believes they have nonhuman ancestors, and therefore are nonhuman themselves because their DNA is nonhuman.

Yes, this is not scientifically provable and never will be. But it is also based on their specific cultural and/or spiritual beliefs in nonhuman ancestry being possible and what influence that would then have on their own self. It feels rude therefore to assume we have the right to tell them that they are wrong due to 'lack of evidence' -like an atheist demanding proof of God before they'll respect a religious person- and should either refer to their experience by a new name which doesn't make call to the physical difference they internally perceive/believe, or else stop talking about it completely.

Let's think deeper, I've seen physical alterhumans who say they are completely physically their 'type, but a magic spell or glamour is stopping it being detectable, perceivable etc by anyone or anything (including themselves). Yes, this line of belief does have the capacity to become dangerous. But it also has the capacity to be entirely beneficial to that person. We can't assume we know which it will be, but we can provide a community which doesn't cause them to go onto the defensive as people tell them to prove something they believe they cannot prove, based on an spiritual belief in magic. It does not involve blindly believing them, but it does involve allowing for them to express this belief openly without attack. In fact, you will drive more people into the arms of those who may turn this belief into something that harms them if you do.

The same goes for those who just say 'I literally have paws, I literally have a tail.' If this eases their dysphoria, the way a trans man may in fact harmlessly refer to his genitalia as a dick despite not having one yet, then who are we to tell them they're 'being dangerous' and 'need to prove it' before they can be left alone and not constantly be told they don't have these parts 'because science'.

Yes, absolutely monitor this person for signs of spreading the more harmful ideas behind p-shifting and absolutely make posts which guard and warn people about being manipulated into things which harm them. But if you see someone saying 'I literally have paws rn' and you see they don't have clinical zoanthropy and aren't talking about a delusion they're having (both of which should not be reality checked by randoms on the internet) you don't have to believe them but you also don't have to go on their posts and say 'No, you don't and I'm not interested in nor am I going to believe in any of the reasons why you may believe that your hands do in fact count as paws instead'. Or vaguepost about them or their experiences or things you're assuming about physical alterhumans.

On the other hand, and I know some physical alterhumans will hate me for saying this but yeah, our physical experiences are due to some internal perception changing how we view ourselves. It's not 'real' in a sense that the world will ever see it. It's real enough to us for sure, and it's literal to us for sure, but it's not literal or real by the laws of this world. But does it have to be, for us to be able to express it and talk about it that way? Many non-physical alterhumans say things like 'I am literally a wolf' and that's fine and nobody in the community tells them 'no you're not literally a wolf, your mind makes you believe you're a wolf. no you're not literally a wolf, your soul is just a wolves soul' and then makes posts about how annoying, dangerous and misguided people who really believe they're an animal are (the few that do are often kff or similar and not a major issue) with the irony being that our internal perception of self can be very easily manipulated too. Yet we understand that in most cases the person can be believed and trusted without harm!

We can change imperfect language amongst ourselves along the way, but the physical community can't thrive and get to that point of clarity whilst everyone else is being told to not even humour us. In fact, encouraged in a lot of cases to tell us what we believe is simply not real so we should stop talking about it completely. In many other cases, assuming we must be either victims or victims in the making, or the perpetrators of harm.

If you actually just want people to learn from past mistakes, to train themselves to not believe everything they see as true outside of those individuals realities especially if it's particularly wild, I feel we're going the wrong way about it by just telling physical alterhumans that they're wrong about their experiences and shouldn't be calling it 'physical' no matter how physical it feels. I'm also going to link kossai's post here for further reading.

And as a final note - I do hope we're all cool with clinical zoanthropes and endels - and don't believe that they are supposed to provide proof of their shapeshifting before they can express themselves. At the very least can we agree on that?

If you’re going to assert science in a community full of people discussing their scientifically unverifiable experiences I think you should consider what you’re really trying to say. If you’re not trying to call people liars then there’s probably a better way to go about making your point than enumerating the reasons why you think they’re lying.

[dangerpronebuddie]

Eddie doesn't say a word as they step into the Diaz home, for all the four days it's going to remain so. Buck bunches his shoulders around his ears, sticks his hands in his pockets to keep from pulling Eddie close and demanding he just talk to him.

But Eddie doesn't say anything. Won't even look at Buck. Buck debates staying out on the porch. He doesn't think he's allowed inside after tonight.

One look from Eddie has him padding inside though. If he had a tail, it would be between his legs.

Buck can't keep this up. Can't spend the last days he'll ever have Eddie not speaking to him.

"Why are you so pissed at me?" Buck scowls. There's no venom in his voice like the time he questioned it in a grocery store. There's nothing but resignation, accompanied by a helpless shrug.

"Because you're-" Eddie stops himself as he whirls around there in the living room, takes a step closer.

"Exhausting?" Buck scoffs. "Yeah, I know."

"No, Buck," Eddie growls. "You're acting like you don't matter. Like you don't give a damn if you get hurt!"

"I wasn't going to let that poor dog die in there," Buck fires back, "all alone. I just couldn't. And you wouldn't either, you can't tell me otherwise, Eddie!"

"Of course I wouldn't," Eddie huffs.

"Then what's your problem, man?" Buck demands, taking a step closer himself. He wants to grab Eddie by the collar, shake the answer from him, or claw it from his skin or... Something.

"You," Eddie says, his voice lower than Buck has maybe ever heard. He opens his mouth to say something, but thinks better of it. Buck wishes he didn't. Because what he does say threatens to shake Buck apart. "You didn't wait for me to go with you."

Buck shakes his head. "I couldn't ask you to do that."

"Why not?" Eddie demands, pleas. "We're a team, Buck. I'm supposed to have your back!"

And that is what breaks him. He's been hanging on by his fingertips since he flipped over Eddie's tablet, and now? He lets go. Lets himself plummet, off a lightning rod of a ladder, or a crane. There's no ground beneath his feet. He just falls, and falls, and drags Eddie down with him.

"You're not going to be here to have my back!" Buck cries.

Eddie flinches like Buck struck him.

Regardless, Buck keeps talking. "You're leaving, Eddie. Leaving me behind just like everyone else does. And I- I know, it's selfish as hell to even think it because you- you need to go, and I can't stop you. I wouldn't ever stop you, you need your kid, but I need..."

He has the good sense to stop there, but he thinks it's too late anyway.

Eddie stares at him, a little like Buck just informed him of a death. And yeah. If that death was whatever Buck had with Eddie, the comparison would be an accurate one.

Eddie nods and ducks his head. Sniffs and looks anywhere but at Buck. Buck wants to keep talking. At least then, Eddie's eyes would be on him.

Then, in a voice too small for the space Eddie's supposed to occupy, he asks "why won't you stop me?"

Buck's tense shoulders drop in defeat. "Why would you want me to?"

Eddie shakes his head. Rolls his lips. Lets out a bitter laugh that, for all it's anger, still makes Buck's heart jump. "You know, I thought..."

Buck steps closer again, and it's probably the most dangerous step he's ever taken in his life. He's run into burning buildings, up ladders in lightning storms, through flooded streets, gunfire. And still, this one step is the most terrifying he's ever made.

Because they're close. Closer than they should be for the fight they're not really having. But still not close enough. There's maybe six inches between the toe of Buck's sneakers and Eddie's boots. But he doesn't dare close that gap.

"Eddie..." He doesn't know what to follow that up with. He hopes Eddie has some idea. Hopes, probably derangedly, that the words he wants to say are ones Eddie understands already.

"I'm going to get my kid back," Eddie says, looking somewhere over Buck's shoulder.

"I know you are."

"Why won't you stop me?" Eddie asks, finally meeting his eyes. There's something desperate there, something Buck hasn't seen since Christopher wouldn't look his father in the eye.

"The same reason I couldn't let you follow me into that building... I can't ask you to put your happiness aside for me," Buck admits, a desperation of his own forcing the words past the lump in his throat.

"Evan," Eddie says, and it makes Buck want to fall to his knees. He takes that last perilous step closer to Buck. Buck doesn't dare breathe. "You are my happiness."

Buck shakes his head, that isn't right. He's been bad, for so long, he doesn't make people happy. Eddie reaches up, cups his face in his hands to stop his movement. "Yes," Eddie continues. "Buck, I have spent... probably my whole life denying myself joy. And I'm finally learning that I don't have to. I found my joy, Buck. It's you."

"Eddie," Buck says, reverent like a vow. He had endless things he wanted to say to Eddie, but it all pales in comparison now.

"I'm coming home, Buck," Eddie promises. He swipes his thumbs across Buck's cheekbones, wiping away the tears Buck didn't even notice he'd started crying. "If you'll be here for us to come home to."

Buck pounces on him like a dog offered a treat. Better still, a place to stay. Someone's feet to curl up by.

He throws his arms around Eddie, burying his face in the crook of his neck. "Yes," he whispers against Eddie's skin. "I'll be here for you to come home to."

[dubiousanon]

Do you have any more kakanaru ideas?

God, you don't even know the half of it. Here have a few but I'm dead serious, they're fucking unending. Title: 'Til Death Do Us Part Summary: In which Kakashi agrees to let Naruto practice seals on him, only for Naruto to go and "accidentally" bind them together for eternity in the first ten minutes. This wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if Kakashi weren't actively head over heels in love with him, and now their emotions are connected and Naruto knows it. -Post war, Kakashi falls in love with Naruto over the course of the village's reconstruction and sits silently on his crush for about two years, hoping it'll go away. News flash: it does not, in fact, go away. It gets like, ten times worse.

-Little does he realize, Naruto loves him back and the whole seal thing was fully intentional. Kakashi thinks that Naruto can't remove the seal. Naruto completely knows how to take it off, but after realizing Kakashi feels the same, he pretends he doesn't know how.

-Kurama cheers them on like the fangirl we all know he is and Naruto does his best to woo Kakashi, who is firmly in the "this is wrong, I'm a dirty old man, I couldn't possibly!" camp. So much so that, despite their emotions being connected, he remains blind to the fact that Naruto feels the same. Title: The You Inside of Me Summary: After Kakashi gets hit by a jutsu that de-ages him, suddenly he's nineteen years old again and has no idea what's going on, how he got here, or what to do with himself. When Naruto takes it upon himself to help Kakashi adjust, Kakashi can't help but notice how... pretty he is. Like, really, really pretty. -Naruto is also nineteen years old. It's just after the war and everything is kind of in shambles. Kakashi still believes himself to be ANBU and almost runs off thinking he's stuck in some genjutsu, but Naruto practically sparkles like gold in the sunlight, so Kakashi stays. -Naruto is unendingly kind to him to the point that Kakashi doesn't know how to react other than to melt. He's basically side-lined from missions while they try to bring him back to his actual age and with every passing day, he finds himself falling harder and harder for Naruto. To the point that he doesn't want to be aged back up again if it means he can't have this.

-As if age would stop Naruto Uzumaki from getting what he wants. Though honestly, he doesn't mind either way. Watching Kakashi discover Icha Icha for the first time is a true novelty.

Title: A Spoonful Of Sugar Summary: Post war, Naruto comes back to his apartment to find its been leveled to the ground. With so much destruction, Konoha is launched straight into a housing crisis that makes hunting for somewhere new to live impossible. Enter: Kakashi, who has an entire house to himself and is hardly ever there anyway now that he's Hokage.

-Kakashi thinks it's a great idea up until Naruto sleep walks into his bed in search of warmth in nothing but a tank top and the smallest shorts known to mankind and makes himself at home. Naruto's a cuddler, too, but Kakashi loves it so much that he silently hopes every night that he'll wander in. Even if the guilt practically devours him alive.

-Konoha is on pause for missions, but Naruto will die if he doesn't keep busy. Kakashi wasn't trying to get a live-in maid or anything, but the homecooked meals every time he comes home make his heart flutter. Naruto's also is helping with the reconstruction, which means he comes home sweaty. It does NOT help. -Basically, Naruto moves in, never leaves, and accidentally seduces Kakashi by doing absolutely nothing but being himself. Kakashi is helplessly enamored by it. Title: No Time (Like The Present) Summary: Naruto reaches adulthood and it's like a switch flips. Whereas he had absolutely no interest in relationships before, suddenly all he can think about is being with someone. Couple this with the strange urge he's had to let Kakashi-sensei bite him, he's pretty sure he knows exactly who he's going for.

-Or: Naruto's animal hindbrain belatedly kicks online and suddenly he's desperate to find someone. He feels naturally drawn to people who ALSO have animal hindbrains, whether he realizes it or not. This narrows his options down to Kakashi or... Kiba.

-Obviously he's not choosing Kiba, ew. After coming to the astute conclusion that he wants Kakashi to bite his neck and pound him into a mattress, he starts to relentlessly pursue him in the bluntest way possible. Which is to say he marches up to him and boldly declares that they should fuck.

-Kakashi is flabbergasted, terrified, and also desperate because now that Naruto's mentioned it, he can't stop thinking about it. And Naruto also smells really good, and Kakashi's hands would be so big on his waist, and it would be amazing. But also wrong. But also... well, he'll only hold out against Naruto for so long anyway, I guess.

Title: Planetary Summary: After a seal gone wrong, Naruto thinks he got off without any consequences. The sudden wet dreams he keeps having about Kakashi-sensei are weird, but he kind of enjoys them a ton, so he doesn't mind. It never occurs to him that they might be real.

-Naruto blows a seal up and suddenly he and Kakashi have connected dreams. Neither of them realize that they're both cognizant, that the dreams are real, and they're both lucid. Kakashi thinks he's having the same old wet dreams he's been having for the past year. Naruto thinks it's a cool, neat new feature.

-Kakashi basically ravishes Naruto every night thinking none of it is real and that he's finally just gone off the deep end and is having insanely detailed dreams as a result. Tons of filth, but also a lot of desperate kissing, 'I love you's, and various desperate apologies. Naruto is slightly taken aback but enthusiastically there for the ride.

-Eventually, a few vague mentions make it click that hey, they're both experiencing this same thing. The tension is insane. Naruto wants to climb him like a tree. Kakashi is drowning in self-righteous guilt. You know the drill.

[chosaraki]

"Why are there so many people in the world?"

————————————

Daniel, Gun, Jake, Gitae, James x R.femele

——————————————————————

You be called : y/n

—————————————————————————

Y/N is a woman with an explosive temperament, zero patience for inconvenient people and a brutal honesty. Her trademark phrase, "Why are there so many people in the world?", reflects her constant frustration with the excess of people around her.

—————————————————————————

Daniel Park :

Daniel parked the car and sighed, looking at Y/N, who was with his arms crossed and a deadly look on his face. He knew something was bothering her.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, trying to break the silence.

Y/N snorted, tapping his feet impatiently. "Why are there so many people in the world, Daniel? Like, seriously! Can't there be only half a dozen people and that's it? Life would be so much easier."

He let out a low laugh. "You say that every time someone annoys you."

"Yes, because there's always someone annoying me!" She grumbled.

Before Daniel could answer, a car next to them lowered the window and an unknown guy smiled smugly. "Hey, princess, your boyfriend doesn't seem to be cheering you up. How about coming with us?"

Y/N turned his head slowly, his eyes shining with a mixture of irritation and fun.

"Do you REALLY want to do this, friend?"

The guy laughed. "You look tough. I bet it's just pose."

Before Daniel could intervene, Y/N took the guy's head by the hair and BANG—hit with everything against the window of his own car. The glass trembled with the impact, and the guy let out a moan of pain.

"Now get out of my way before I really break your face," she warned.

Daniel covered his mouth with his hand so as not to laugh. "You really don't have patience, do you?"

She leaned back on the bench, still with her face closed. "Why are there so many people in the world, Daniel? Explain it to me!"

————————————————

Gun Park :

Gun was standing still, arms crossed, while watching Y/N complain about the excess of people around.

"Look at this, Gun. Why are there so many people in the world? This here looks like a zoo without cages."

He let out a low "hm", finding it funny in her irritation.

It was then that a random man approached, clearly unaware of the danger. "Hey, babe. You seem a little angry. Do you want me to calm you down?"

Gun already knew what was going to happen even before Y/N reacted.

Without hesitation, she grabbed the guy's head and—PÁ!—hit with everything against the glass of a nearby car. The noise of the impact made some people turn around, while the idiot collapsed on the ground, moaning.

Gun sighed and looked at her. "Do you need to be so aggressive?"

Y/N threw his hair back. "Do you think I would let a trash like that breathe near me?"

Gun smiled slightly. "Good answer."

——————————————————

Jake Kim:

Jake and Y/N were walking the streets of Gangbuk when a group of random guys began to face Y/N suspiciously.

Jake already knew how this would end.

"Hey, princess," one of the idiots called. "Do you want to go for a walk with us?"

Y/N stopped at the same moment and turned to them.

"Did you just call me princess?"

The guy smiled. "Are you offended, cutie?"

Jake was already about to take a step forward, but Y/N was faster. She grabbed the guy by the collar, pulled him towards her and—PÁ!—hit his head against a nearby pole.

The guy's friends retreated, shocked.

"Does anyone else want to try?" She asked.

Jake crossed his arms, a proud smile on his face. "I didn't even need to do anything."

She looked at him, still in a bad mood. "Why are there so many people in the world, Jake? Answer me!"

————————————————

Gitae Kim :

Gitae was finishing moving her motorcycle when she heard Y/N snort on the other side of the garage.

"Why are there so many people in the world? My God, this is hell!"

He laughed. "Wat it was now?"

"He was an idiot who thought he could flirt with me. Guess where he is now?"

Gitae looked around. "Where?"

She pointed to an unconscious guy near a car. "There."

He blinked a few times and looked at her with admiration. "You're really rude, huh?"

She crossed her arms. "I don't have the patience for garbage."

Gitae gave a half smile. "That's why I like you."

———————————————

James Lee :

James was in the corner of an exclusive club, watching Y/N with his penetrating gaze.

She was impatient, rolling her eyes. "Why are there so many people in the world, James? I'm almost exploding here."

He just took a sip of his drink. "Don't care about them."

But, of course, there's always a clueless one.

"Hi, beautiful, do you dance?"

Y/N looked at the guy as if he were an insect. "And you breathe?"

The guy laughed. "Of course."

"Then stop breathing."

James already knew it was going to be shit, but decided to watch it.

The guy insisted. "Come on, you look angry, let me cheer you up."

Y/N just grabbed his head and—BANG!—hit against the nearest table.

The silence took over the place.

James sighed, taking another sip. "I tried to warn you."

She looked at him. "Why are there so many people in the world, James?!"

He laughed low. "I don't know, but you're doing a great job reducing the number."

—————————————————————————

Each scenario shows how she reacts to situations where someone tries to approach her in an unwanted way—and how her partners (Daniel, Gun, Jake, Gitae and James) deal with this chaos. While some try to understand her impatience, others simply accept that she is like that and appreciate her aggressive way of solving problems.

The tone is a mixture of comedy, action and unconventional romance, with a touch of brutality that makes the dynamic between Y/N and the characters even more unique.

—————————————————————————

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Double Dad Swap

Hunter:

It was a regular day. My boyfriend, Quinn, and I were hanging around my house on a Saturday. We had just finished breakfast and were deciding what to do.

“Man it's way too hot today. I don't feel like doing anything,” Quinn announced. It was true, there was definitely a heat wave going on or something. Normal people would stay inside, but a certain someone had other plans.

“Hey boys!” My dad walked into the room with a determined look on his face.

“Hey dad. What's up?”

“I'm gonna go fix that hole on the roof. The neighbors paid for the damages their kids did to it, but somebody’s still gotta do the work.”

“Today?” It's too hot out.

“Well,” he said with a laugh. “You can't stop progress!”

Once he walked out to the garage and was out of earshot, Quinn spoke up.“Your dad is like the biggest workaholic ever.”

“I know right.”

“Better than being lazy…like you,” he teased.

“Hey!” We laughed and then decided to watch a movie.

Quinn:

A few hours later we were talking in our group chat with a couple old school friends. Somehow the topic got to Hunter's dad and how hot he was. He looked at me with a confused face.

“My dad?”

“You gotta admit. He's pretty hot.”

“What the hell? No way.”

“Well of course you would say that. He’s like…your dad. Duh.”

“Well what if I said your dad was hot? He really is actually.

”Ew. He did not just go there. The idea of my dad being considered hot by anyone, was an unsettling thought. Who could like a guy like him? He was always supportive of me and all, but tended to be overly formal in casual situations.

“My dad? Gross. He's like…all traditional and stuff.” He laughed.

“And how does that affect his looks?”

“It doesn't. I mean…well he's fat and has had the same ugly mustache since the 90s.”

“Well I happen to think the chubby mustache combo is pretty sexy…”

“Gross! Stop! Your dad is the sexy one! Those piercing hazel eyes…that fit bod…”

We got in each other's faces and after a couple seconds of silence, we flopped back onto the couch and started laughing.

“If anyone heard us just now, they'd think we were nuts!” Hunter said between laughs.

“True!” I replied. “Well whatever. What are we gonna do now? I'm still bored.”

“I have an idea,” he scooted closer to me and began stroking my pants.

“But your dad's home.”

“Yeah, but he's on the roof. He's such a perfectionist with all his projects; he'll be there all day.”

“Yeah I guess.” I let out a laugh. “Well then…shall we head over to the bedroom?”

Hunter:

As Quinn sucked my dick, all I could think about was his dad. How hot it would be to fuck him, and watch him cum. Man, that would be amazing. But it was only a dream. It would really make things awkward between Quinn and I, even if it somehow did happen. I guess the only thing I could do was close my eyes and pretend he was his dad. I leaned over and kissed him, pretending he had that sexy mustache.

“I'm gonna cum!” He said between breaths. He got onto his back and jerked while I did the same, sitting on top of him. My last thought was of his dad before I closed my eyes and came; The sound of Quinn’s moaning meant that he finished too - the same time as me. It was so intense that I started feeling a little lightheaded. Before I knew it, I blacked out.

Quinn:

I opened my eyes to find I was outside. What happened? The last thing I remember, we were messing around and I came. I've been known to get so exhausted afterward that I want to take a nap, but that was just straight up blacking out. Was this a dream? I looked around and realized that I was outside my dad's restaurant. What was I doing here? It was then that I noticed it was extra hot and I found that I was wearing long sleeves. I examined my clothes to see I was wearing a tie with a black shirt and vest combo. No wonder I was sweating my ass off. But I think I recognized the outfit. My dad's? That couldn't be…

I walked inside and scanned the area. I spent a lot of time at this restaurant as a kid so I knew the layout pretty well. I would probably get an explanation by talking to my dad, so I headed for his office, but was stopped by one of the waitresses.

“Hi Mr. Rivera! How are you today?” I had no idea who this waitress was but I didn't want to be rude so I greeted her back.

“I'm good. Thanks.” My voice came out raspier than usual. A little deeper too. What was going on?

I tried the door handle. Locked. Great. What was I supposed to do now? I took a seat on the nearby bench and it felt like I sat on something, but nothing was on the bench. I searched my back pockets and it was almost like my butt was bigger somehow. I grabbed a pair of keys - my dad's pair of keys. Oh god. What if…?

I quickly turned the keys and closed the door behind me. I felt around my front pockets and took out a phone - his phone. I opened the front camera and found his face staring back at me. Fuck no, this couldn't be happening! How did I switch bodies with my dad? What was I going to say to Hunter?

Hunter:

What happened? I opened my eyes to the blue sky, but looked down to find I was on the roof! What the hell?! I scanned the area and noticed that I was home…on the roof. Did my dad bring me up here somehow?”

“Hey dad! Where are you?” I said, but my voice came out weird. Deeper somehow. I caught sight of my hands and found I was wearing gloves that had some dirt on them. My dad's gloves? What was going on? When I noticed that I was wearing his clothes - the same clothes he was wearing earlier this morning - it suddenly hit me.

“What the hell! I'm my dad!” I screamed.

How did this happen? What was Quinn going to think? And how do I even get down from the roof…

Quinn:

I held the phone up to my ear and anxiously waited for my dad to pick up. I realized that if I was in his body, he must be in mine right? After a few seconds, it went to ringtone. I couldn't wait any longer so I decided to go there myself. It wasn't too long of a drive to Hunter's house at least. I walked through the restaurant, (thankfully no employees noticed me), and pressed the button on the keys to locate my car. The reflection in the car reminded me of what I looked like, but I tried to ignore it and got into the driver's seat. There, I could see a clear reflection of myself in the rear view mirror for the first time. It was definitely my dad's face. His double chin was so evident without any facial hair - well except for his ugly mustache. I touched it with two fingers and brushed along to see what it felt like. I grazed the back of my head to find the bald spot he had there. This was so gross! I turned the ignition and was on my way to figure out how to fix this!

Hunter:

After climbing down the ladder, I was back inside the house and I immediately headed towards the bedroom where Quinn and I fucked. There we found our bodies seemingly unconscious on the bed, in the same position we were in. It was really creepy.

“Hey uh. Dad? Wake up…” I said hesitantly. No response.

“Wake up!” I said even louder. No response.

They must be in a coma or something. Oh god what if I was stuck like this? I headed towards the bathroom and found my dad's face staring back at me in the mirror. I made different facial expressions and started to creep myself out. Thankfully I was interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. I made my way and opened the front door just as Quinn's dad jumped out of the car, almost losing his balance as his feet hit the concrete

.“Sorry, I'm not used to this…” He looked up at me. “Oh uh I mean, hey there Mr. Patterson. Um, have you seen my uh son?”

I think I had an idea what was going on.

“Quinn?” I asked.

“Yeah? I mean- yeah that's his name…I mean…” He paused for a few seconds until he must've realized what had happened too.

“H-hunter? Is that you?”

“Yep. And that's really you in there?”

“Oh god. This sucks! What are we going to do? Wait, where are our bodies?”

“In the room where we last were. Whether or not our dads are in our bodies doesn't matter because they're unconscious or something.”

“So we're stuck like this?”Suddenly I had an idea.

“Well…you did say my dad was hot…”

“What are you getting at….OH.” Quinn replied as I smirked. “But…I mean...it's my dad's dick!”

“Yeah I know. But this may be your only chance to fuck my dad. Same thing for me too.”

“Well…being in a different body means I'm horny again so…”I leaned in for a kiss. The brushing of his mustache against my face felt amazing. Even better than I imagined!

“Shall we go?” Quinn said with a smile.

Quinn:

We didn't know what to do with our bodies so we just left them there and closed the door. Hopefully they wouldn't hear anything if they somehow were still conscious.We went into Hunter's dad's room and he immediately started stripping. He had the sexiest athletic body. Blond hair covered his entire chest and while he didn't have a six pack or anything, he had some pretty decent pecs.

Hunter looked into the mirror and made a frown.

“This is so gross!”

“Maybe don't look at your face in the mirror. Only look at the body.”

“I guess it's not as bad when I do that. But still…” He gazed at me with lust in his eyes. “Your turn.”

I so wasn't ready for this! But he hugged me and began to strip me himself, starting with my tie and vest. Each piece of clothing made my dad's chubby body more and more obvious. He started unbuttoning my shirt until the tank top underneath was revealed. I guess I didn't look as bad as I thought. My dad must've lost weight. I didn't want to go any further than that, but I also really wanted to feel his body against mine so I lifted the tank top off happily…but I was met with a terrifying surprise.

“Shit,” I said. My chubby rolls slapped the rest of my body as I gawked at myself in the mirror. It's no wonder that the tank top felt so constricting. It was holding in all that blubber.

I turned to Hunter and expected him to be upset, but was instead met with a sexy smirk. God, making his dad do those hot expressions was really turning me on.

“Wait you like this?” I asked.

“Of course. You're even bigger than I thought. An absolute muffin top.” He came from behind and wrapped his arms around me. I could feel my dick harden as much as it could and grasped it. It was still gross the idea that it was my dad’s dick but I didn't care. All that mattered was Hunter's sexy body.

He reached his hands over and grabbed my man tits. When he played with them, I experienced sensations I never felt before as a twink. Vibrations went through my body as he jiggled every bit of squishy flesh. I turned around to return the favor - I kneeled down and started sucking his cock. He was huge! Much bigger than what he had before. It wasn't any harder to take it in though; I guess my dad's mouth must've opened bigger than mine. He put his hands around the back of my head and started pushing his cock down my throat. Faster and faster, as I jerked myself.

Suddenly he stopped as I could feel the warm cum shoot down my throat at the same time I shot my own load. In one big gulp I swallowed it all and hopped onto my back, the flabby rolls jiggling as I did.

Afterwards we washed up and Hunter put on one of his dad's t-shirts, while I just put on what I had before, because I knew nothing would fit me. We walked back into Hunter's room to see if our dads had woken up, to find that they had disappeared completely. In fact, the whole room was magically cleaned up and the bed made, as if it was a guest room and always had been.

“So…I guess we're the dads now,” Hunter said with a smirk.

“And best of all, we don't have any sons,” I replied as I opened Grindr.

[deadchannelradio]

Man and then there's rebecca. who mostly she feels like she’s trying to maneuver a 20ft python (damian) into a 5 pound sack (graduating from school without any major incidents) using only a 3ft snake catching pole designed for like garter snakes (her masters degree). He's not even the worst kid in the school like not at all he's very intelligent and easy to communicate with and, after you learn a little bit about him, predictable. He's not all that disruptive and not at all destructive and doesn't generally bully anyone he's just rude. But He Just Doesn't Care About the Rules.

School Rules are not Real Rules and there is nothing anyone can say or do to convince him otherwise. these pansy ass sons of bitches aren't allowed to grab him and even if they were he could 1000% take them in a fight. What are they gonna do if he doesnt listen? suspend him? He doesn't want to be here anyway. Expel him? HE DOESNT WANT TO BE HERE ANYWAY! put him in detention? HE DOESNT HAVE TO GO. "you didn't go to this unpleasant thing so now you have to go to this even more unpleasant thing" okay. Haha. no. They couldn't make him go to the first stupid assembly how can they make him go to detention? He can sit through a billion stupid meetings with rebecca. he DGAF. Richard will have to drag him there but he can sit through them! he's been waterboarded being droned at by some loser with a 'degree' is nothing. "Damian you are ruining your future" I have billions of dollars and I'm going to be batman. Lets be serious with each other please. She can't do anything to a kid like that. He will go where he wants to go when he wants to go there and that's that. He is immune to shame (in this context) and immune to any consequences she is physically capable of doling out to him and there's nothing she can give him as a Reward that he cant get himself and he is So Aware that everything here is made up. What can you even Do with a kid like that?

She does eventually get him to play along by making it a competition. one day she offhandedly mentions that Evangaline is on track to win perfect attendance for the fourth year in a row and Skilaer (pronounced 'skyler') is going to be valedictorian. and suddenly Damian became very interested in doing all of his homework. None of this is technically what she is supposed to do. but damian is no longer wandering the hallways and ignoring everyone telling him to get back to class every single day.

"What are we doing with our masters in counseling?" asks rebeccas 20 year old self to her 30 year old self. she puts her head in her hands. "Psychologically manipulating a ten year old into doing multiplication problems." "What??" "you heard me."

very glamorous. exactly what she thought she'd be doing.

Individualized Education Plan

G, gen, humor, 6.7k, 1/1

Damian pulls out his phone and dials Richard’s number- his chauffeur has been unfortunately painstakingly instructed to answer no calls whatsoever from Damian, and Alfred has begun to pretend that phones do not exist during school hours. Unsurprisingly, as it is eight in the morning, it goes to voicemail. Damian waits impatiently for the beep. “Richard,” he says, in tones of the deeply suffering, “this place is a hostile environment. I must be collected post-haste, as after this latest indignity I am dropping out. Come at once, or I may die here.” The dynamic duo attend a parent-teacher conference. No one has a good day.

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by @cowboysorceror and i! happy new year!