#and they then say if youre not comfortable with it youre not welcome

[parfaitblogs]

hard times ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid doesn’t follow through one time, and you really hate that he has a psychology degree.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: daddy issues. shoutout to the girls with inconsistent fathers this ones for you. established relationship. readers mentioned wearing makeup, a dress and heels. rational bf!spencer reid fuck i would hate a profiler bf. word count: 1.8k a/n: not a trauma dump fic not a vent fic do not read into this fic at all don't even start to speculate on my life and where these emotions came from they're all fake made up not real make pretend. no photos no aesthetics just me, a tumblr account, and a dream for this baddie.

In all your months of dating Spencer Reid, he had never forgotten anything. Not a date, not a work event. Or, at least, he's never forgotten to call. Even when you had been so busy one week you could barely spare him more than a ten minute phone call a day, he remembered what was going on in your life enough to be there for you. 

A false blanket of security draped over your relationship, is what it is now. 

A blanket he seemingly had no trouble ripping off you a random Friday evening, throwing it in a fire and watching it — and your trust in him — burn into dust. 

Perhaps a tad dramatic for what was happening, but you were always one for theatrics when it came to your emotions. Usually, he welcomed it. He was (abashedly) similar, after all.

Not that he was even here to welcome it. 

You'd looked pretty. You'd felt pretty. Past tense, for your shoes were strewn somewhere across the floor after throwing them in frustration, and your makeup was ruined after unwelcome tears had streamed down your face an hour ago. You had been ready for a dinner date you and Spencer had scheduled in only three days ago — penciled in, for you never knew what his work schedule was going to end up being.

You're not sure how long you sat in that one spot on the couch, mind going through every single possible scenario that could've happened between the text he sent you that morning saying he was excited to go out tonight, and the lack of his appearance this evening. 

The logical conclusion is that he got too busy, and he forgot. But Spencer Reid's whole thing is that he doesn't forget. Oftentimes he considers it a curse. You never really agreed with him. Until now, it seemed. 

The less than logical, emotionally driven conclusion, is that he actively chose to stay at work to avoid coming home because he didn't want to see you. Or he didn't actually want to go to dinner, and he didn't know how to tell you. Or his team offered to go out and he'd rather hang out with them instead of you. 

Really, the reasons are endless, and any rational conclusion was lost on you. Mind swallowing you whole as you continued to stare off into space, visibly shaking and head beginning to pound from the crying.

A glance at the clock told you it was near midnight by the time you heard the door handle rattle and twist open, tired, puffy eyes blinking to adjust to the light filtering in from the apartment hallway. 

"Hey. Why're you out here? It's late. I thought you'd already be in bed," Spencer rambles absentmindedly, voice so disconnected from you it only made the ache in your chest worse. As he flicks the light on and assesses the state of the apartment, he asks, "What're your shoes doing on the floor?"

You blink a few times. Was he pretending to be dumb on purpose? 

You stand on cramped legs, stretching them for the first time since you'd sat unknowingly on the couch nearly six hours ago, dress bunching around your waist. You didn't bother to fix it. 

Like a switch, he clicks, his bag sliding off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a thud, realisation settling into his features. 

"Our date. Oh, God, I'm so sorry, angel."

"Yeah. I'm sure," you croak, voice hoarse as you pick up your shoes pathetically in front of him, the heels clacking together as you walk towards your bedroom door. 

He calls your name, and after you make no effort to return to him, you hear his feet against the wooden flooring, carrying himself to you.

You're in the ensuite, beginning to take makeup off you probably should've removed four hours ago. It was stupid hope you held on to, anyways. 

"You're upset. I know. It was awful of me to forget our date," he stands in the doorway, staring at you through the mirror. Even indirectly, you can't make eye contact with him. 

"You forgot," you repeat back to him, almost dumbfounded. "You forgot?"

"Forgot isn't... the best word," his fingers dig into his eyes for a split second, and you watch him think. "I got caught up at work. We had a case, then we didn't have a case, then we did, so we started looking into it, and time just... escaped. From all of us."

"Time just escaped."

Your parroting wasn't doing much to further the conversation, and you watch as Spencer averts his gaze to the floor to take a deep breath, before his eyes land back on you again.

"It isn't the best reason, I know. But it's the truth," he says. 

"Uh-huh," you mumble, discarding your cotton pads stained with your makeup into the trash. 

"Can you stop being evasive?" he catches your wrist before you can return to the sink. "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?" you ask, almost earnestly. "It's okay that you forgot, Spencer. I won't take it personally at all, and things between us are just dandy!"

"I want to know what you're actually feeling," he replies, voice flat with his irritation, before he forces himself to soften it. "I can't reassure you if all I know is that you're angry."

"Hurt. Forgotten. Disregarded. Disliked. Irritated we're doing this in our fucking bathroom."

At that, he leads you into the bedroom, turning the ensuite light off. "Forgotten and disregarded are synonyms, so I'm assuming that's what you feel the most."

"You're the psyche expert," you mumble, bitterly.

"I'm not trying to be your psyche expert," he quips, and your heart sinks. "Why're you feeling forgotten?"

You stare at him, dumbfounded, for a beat. "Because my boyfriend quite literally forgot about me?"

"I didn't forget about you—"

"—No, you're right. You just forgot about the date that you literally fucking texted me about this morning!" you snap, voice rising in a way that makes you cringe. Yet, you can't stop it. "You! Spencer Reid! Forgot!"

"Don't yell at me, please," he takes a step towards you; you take a step back. 

"Why did you forget? Did you choose to? Are you pretending that you forgot about it all to save your ass?"

"No," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I didn't. I told you what happened. You're choosing not to believe me."

"How am I meant to believe that? It's a shit excuse—"

"—It's the truth—"

"—God, you can lie, Spencer! Men lie!" 

He goes silent, as do you. You become trapped in an uncomfortably intense staring contest with him, as you watch his brain slowly tick over and decipher what you were saying, and come up with a response. Yours, however, splits open with your own self hatred. Disdain for what you had just said to him.

"Okay," he exhales, very slowly. "I'm going to tell you what I think, and you can tell me how right I am."

"You're going to profile me?"

He pauses. "I'm sure it'll come off that way. I'm not trying to," when you don't protest again, he continues. "I think you're less upset about the fact that I didn't come home for a date, and more about the fact that I didn't message you about it. I've not shown up for dates before. I've always contacted you prior to let you know. And I've promised I would always contact you if something came up that interfered with our plans. Ultimately, I said I would do something, and I didn't follow through. That is on me, and I'm sorry. What isn't on me, is how you're reacting. Which is childish, honey. You're acting like a petulant child, and I don't mean that as an insult, because I'm almost certain I know why."

Your silence is his cue to continue, but he pauses to collect his thoughts. Your lower lip is beginning to wobble, and he feels awful.

"You know how our childhoods affect us," he says, and the second what he's about to say to you clicks in your brain, your teeth clamp over your lip, and your eyes drop to the ground. "Reactions from parents to things we do, things others do, things they do, all builds up in our subconscious. Having a parent who didn't show up for you time and time again, built up in your subconscious. So yes, you're reacting to me not following through with something childishly. I will not take that back. But that reaction is not your fault. It's in response to a trigger, and the person in control of that emotional response is not adult you. It's the little girl who got let down by her father. I won't ever hold that against you."

Your sniffle breaks the deafening silence that follows his tangent. You allow him to envelop you into a hug, at which you break down into a fit of sobs akin to the ones from earlier. 

"I hate you," you stutter out in between sobs, voice muffled by his chest. 

"You can't say that while hugging me," he counters. It was true, as your hands had wrapped around his waist just seconds ago.

"I hate you," you repeat, punctuating your words with a poke to his back. 

"I love you," he replies, instead. His fingers thread through your hair as he cradles your head with his other hand. "I'm sorry I didn't contact you about being busy."

You swallow the lodged sob in your throat with a hiccup. "I'm sorry I acted like a petulant child. And I'm sorry that my dad sucks."

"I'm sorry your dad sucks too," you feel him kiss the top of your head. "Have you eaten?"

"Mm-mm," you shake your head, and he pulls back, hands slipping down to your cheeks, catching the tears. 

"Do you want to eat?"

"The restaurant we were going to is closed," you mumble.

"Maybe. But the Thai place isn't."

"I'm pretty sure it is," you counter, and his eyebrows furrow. "It's past midnight now."

His face falls, he waits a beat, before his hand drops to your own, and he's tugging you towards the door of the bedroom. "Okay. Fine. Well, the Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed."

"I asked for pasta last night and you said the kitchen was closed."

"You asked at three in the morning," he deadpans, as you make yourself comfortable on one of the stools. 

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed," you mock his voice from earlier.

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen rules are made by Spencer Reid."

"The rules should be lenient of Spencer Reid's girlfriend."

"Do you want pasta or not?"

"Yes," you quickly say with a firm nod. "Sorry."

He spends the first hour of that Saturday making you pasta; and making up the missed date.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[totalswag]

podcast therapuss ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors notes first time writing influencer!reader, i like it so far. this idea popped into my head the other day after watching one of jake’s episodes. there's no face claim for influencer!reader, i added this picture for the ideal theme.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary joining jakes podcast talking about various topics then mentioning not getting the chance to meet drew starkey. clips of you talking about him goes viral which leads him to reaching out to you.

warning(s) none!

About a month ago, your manager texted you about doing a podcast with Jake Shane, and you quickly said yes. You contacted him shortly after your managers confirmed it, expressing your excitement. Since then, you've grown closer and spent the night before the episode was filmed.

The two of you went out to dinner and got to talking about various of topics. It was a great way to get to know each other. You consider each other as friends now.

You've used social media since you were fifteen years old. You began by posting YouTube videos, and you continue to do so. Tiktok became another source of content to promote, including daily vlogs, hilarious content, and so on. Nothing would make you change it.

Everyone was getting settled before filming began. Jake started off by talking about a few topics then you came in. You were super excited about doing this.

“Welcome to Therapuss! "We've got the incredible Y/N here today," Jake says, gesturing toward you as you relax into the comfortable chair across from him. You flash your characteristic smile, which your followers enjoy. The cameras roll, but it feels natural—just another day in your life, sharing your thoughts and experiences with the world.

"Stop it!" you chuckle, shaking your head. "But seriously, Jake, thank you very much for having me. "I am a huge fan of the podcast."

"You're too kind," he replies, smiling. "So, let us dig in. You've experienced an unimaginable rise on social media. Your vlogs are really addictive, your TikToks are continuously trending, and everyone adores you. "How does it feel?"

You enjoy answering questions like this. They are your favorite because you don't always get to discuss what inspired you for doing this.

"It's surreal, honestly," you acknowledge. "I started YouTube my freshman year of high school because I wanted to look back on the moments I made. I never imagined it would turn out like this. It has been a whirlwind, but I am grateful for it."

Jake takes it all in, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. "Based on what I've seen, your content is incredibly diverse in your vlogs, TikTok, and lifestyle tips. Tell me, how do you balance all of that?" He asks, intrigued by what you do.

You respond to the question by explaining how you learned to draw boundaries over time. You prefer to keep a lot of things private that do not affect the outer world. As your audience grew, you formed a unique bond with them.

"Do you have a show you've been obsessed with lately?" Jake asks you while laughing and raising his eyebrows.

"Duh, Outer Banks pookie!" Before you laugh and toss your head back theatrically, you smirk. The statement, "I love all characters, Rafe is my favorite," leaves Jake speechless.

"Let me explain, his character is so interesting and yes, he's a psycho," you huff, putting your palms up in defense.

Jake and you keep talking about the show and his favorite show.

Jake nods in agreement. "Totally. Okay, switching gears to Pougelandia. Tell me everything."

You giggle and lean back in your chair. "Oh my goodness, that was incredible! The Outer Banks cast is as cool as they appear on television,” You gush, your excitement is evident.

Jake’s face lights up hearing you talk about the cast, “stop it that sounds so sweet, tell me more!”

You quickly point at him, “They’re so down to earth and so sweet. I got to meet practically everyone except for one person,” pouting then covering your hands with your hands.

Jake shrieks in surprise, "bitch who? "You must tell me!" He exclaims excitedly, settling into his seat.

“Drew Starkey. I was very disappointed since I'd heard he was the sweetest person, but our schedules didn't work out." you confess with a hint of disappointment. You were excited to meet him and start a conversation like you did with the rest of the cast.

Jake, of course, teased you about it, saying, “I feel like we’re setting up a rom-com here. Drew, if you’re listening, the universe is waiting.”

The remainder of the podcast you two continue to talk about various topics and even did the infamous NAME—someone will send in a question or mention something for Jake and the guest to answer the question on the podcast. There were lots of interesting questions.

A few days later, the episode is up—fans are talking about you talking about Drew and you wanting to meet him. TikTok is overloaded with clips of you talking about Drew, and your comments are full of hopeful hints about a possible meet-up.

You'd just completed editing your most recent YouTube video for your next vlog, and you were drained enough to fall asleep at your desk. The buzz of your phone buzzing from your bed, frowning but curious in who it could be.

You scream. Literally scream.

Drew Starkey followed you.

Drew Starkey sent you a message.

"Am I being punked?" Am I dreaming? "What the fuck is happening?" You ramble while holding your phone in your shaky hands and looking at the two notifications on your lock screen.

Allowing yourself to relax and compose yourself. You unlock your phone, tap on instagram, go to the messaging tab, you’re sure your jaw dropped to the floor.

Drew Starkey: Hey, I recently watched your podcast with Jake. We should get together sometime—finally make up for not meeting in Pougelandia!

What do you say?

How do you come off calmly?

Yourusername: Hi! Yes, it sounds perfect. Let me know when you’re free.

Fast forward two months later, you feel you’re still in a dream. Drew and you hung out together at a local coffee shop then went back to your place to talk more. Once you started talking you two couldn’t stop.

After hanging out the first time came more meeting ups. Drew asked you to be his girlfriend three weeks ago—you were shocked and excited all at once.

One day, while scrolling through TikTok in your kitchen, leaning on the counter, you came across the trend—wait they don't love you like I love you. You thought the trend was silly, so you decided to participate. 

You did a couple tries and posted your favorite one out of the four—not realizing Drew was in the background on his phone, unfazed about what you were doing. Your comments started blowing up.

Bestie you got some explaining to do 🤨

Causally dancing in your kitchen while Drew Starkey is walking around at the same time? Interesting

When worlds collide fr 😏

Alright where the cameras at...

I fucking knew it!!!!

⎯⎯ my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account

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[seungcheorry]

"baby, remind me to buy some more lotion tomorrow, we're running out of it", dokyeom says as he walks out of the bathroom, finding you already snuggled up in bed.

"yeah, sure."

he murmurs a tiny 'thank you', plugging his phone to the charger and getting ready to sleep himself. when he shuts the lights off, you can't help but groan a little, shrinking in bed as your body automatically responds to the darkness.

it's not that you're a kid, you know there are no monsters under the bed and that your blanket can't protect you from everything; but total darkness does make you anxious, it feels like it brings out all of your insecurities and intrusive thoughts and your body can't seem to relax, your mind wondering if there's anything hidden in the shadows even though you know the physical limits the walls gives you.

so you're already preparing yourself mentally to another long night - and you don't blame dokyeom, because if he likes to sleep in total darkness in his own house then it's okay -, when said boyfriend clicks at something, and suddenly there's a soft, comfortable light coming from a moon shaped lamp at the corner of his room. it isn't bright, but it's enough to not make you hold your breath as you can see the whole room now.

"what is that?", you softly ask him.

"a lamp, i hope", dokyeom jokes, finally laying on the bed beside you. "i bought it yesterday, for when you're here."

"why?"

dokyeom looks at you, a confused expression on his face.

"what do you mean 'why', baby? you don't like sleeping in the dark, so i bought it for you."

he doesn't miss the way you pout at his soft words. "you didn't have to..."

"nah, i wanted to", dokyeom pulls you close by wrapping an arm around your hips. "i noticed how you keep rolling around the bed when you sleep here, and how there's always a light on when we sleep in your place. it's okay."

again, you pout - and this time, dokyeom kisses your lips with a chuckle. "cutie."

"thank you for this, it means a lot", you sincerely say, looking back at the lamp.

"you're welcome, my love."

[bonbonly]

𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: run, run, run, through the shadows you stray, but the wolf is behind you and you're only prey - mother always said to never stop in the woods in fear of the wolf, if only you listened to her for once. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: this is a dark fic! you have been warned! do not read if you are not comfortable with dark fics or any of the following: noncon/dubcon, drugging/aphrodisiac/forced lactation, forced breeding, slapping, p in v, blood, character death, gaslighting 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.7k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: @thef1diary & @emchante, my pookies fr because without them, would this have happened? probably not! also guys im running on 2 hours of sleep and instead of looking at my neurobiology lecture notes i wrote this instead because i couldn't stop thinking about this so if there's mistakes please forgive me!

"grab the tray, no the tray... i said the tray!" your mother hollered from the opposite side of the bakery. you poked your head around the furnace to see your mother glaring at you, her finger pointing towards the tray of bread. she had asked for you to slice them neatly so she could place them in the basket for lord perceval's maid. You were too busy perfecting the shapes of the new batch of cookies, your sense of priority amiss according to your mother. dusting your hands off, you strode over to grab the cutter, and turned your back to her. you could feel her dismissive eyes boring through the rear end of your skull. her conversation with the maid quickly died down, the sound of footsteps departing being heard from the entrance of the bakery that your late father had began 5 years ago. it was a pity that he was not around, you wouldn't have had to deal with the atrocious customers had he been at the door with his axe.

"have you not heard?" lady charlotte cooed, her hands smoothing down the outermost layer of her skirt. her eyes flickered from the velvety red texture of hers, to your beige, flour coated skirt that even your white apron could not cover. you noticed the edge of her lips curl upwards, her meaty hand coming forward to swipe the scone from you. "it's the talk of the town, lord perceval plans on leaving to England very shortly."

"i have not heard anything," you frowned, tilting your head. your mother had just walked in from cleaning the dishes outside, her hands calloused from having to use the rusty water pump by herself. you threw a glance over your shoulder at the poor woman pacing back and forth, as if forgetting something and then snapped your head back to the woman in front of you, "what is the town talking of?"

"oh my naive girl, there is a creature lurking in the woods! they say he came from spain, and finding no welcome there has come over here. they say he's a man by day, a wolf by night," lady charlotte grinned, her voice well below a whisper. your eyes widened, and just then your mother used the rolling pin to shoo away the woman,

"enough! do not bring these stories into my bakery. it's already bad enough that my daughter's not the brightest, don't give her ideas!"

"oh but i'm not! i'm just warning her. the bakery's right next to the woods after all," lady charlotte exclaimed which made your heart stop for a brief second. she was right, and it was absolutely terrifying to think about what horrors were just outside your window. your father had died when traversing the woods to find some logs for the fireplace. a similar fate could be met if your mother and you didn't leave. your mother rolled her eyes,

"if my mother can live alone in that cottage of hers, then surely there is no such wolf trying to feast on us. thank you for your time, lady charlotte, but i suggest you run back home before your father searches for you." and upon hearing your mother's words, the arrogant woman huffed out loud in annoyance, grabbed the ends of her skirt and walked out with her head held high. your eyes fixed onto the crumbs of the scone from earlier in the palm of your hand, shoulders sagging as you turned to your mother,

"she didn't pay for the scone."

"oh nevermind now, i'm sure there'll be more people to buy your scones later." your mother kissed your forehead, and you couldn't help but feel her linger a moment longer than necessary before hurrying to grab the batch of bread from the beehive oven. a few neighbors popped by to grab some cake and cookies, one of them even gave extra money for your scones, which left you gleaming as you took the coins graciously. you walked over to carefully place the coins in the small jar just below a small table when your mother took off her apron and informed you that she had to run a small errand. the marketplace was open earlier than usual today and considering how you both lived in the outskirts of the village, it would take her time to walk to and from. she kissed your forehead once more, telling you to keep a watchful eye on the bread in the oven and to be respectful to the customers, no matter how awful they treated you. the front door slammed as she left, leaving you in the eerie silence of the small bakery.

clink. clink. clink.

the sound of each coin echoed around you, a satisfying jingle when you shook the jar. you had been saving money to help buy a house near the center of town. your mother wouldn't have to walk so far, and if your grandmother did the world a blessing and passed away, you could easily sell her cottage in the woods. some fool would definitely buy it and with the extra money, you could buy some more baking supplies for your mother, perhaps hire another worker so you could frolic around with your friends like you used to. wherever they were... married, bearing children for their husbands. you shuddered at the thought, hating that your childhood came to an abrupt end with your father's death. you were toiling away to help your mother for the bare necessities, while they all had settled down and found their comfortable future. the door to the bakery swung open, and you scrambled to your feet,

"mother, how fast did you-" you paused, eyes focusing on a handsome, tall man instead of a frail woman. you brought a hand to your parted lips, "oh, i'm so sorry. i thought you were my mother."

"está bien, i was wondering if i could have something to eat." his accent was smooth, like butter flowing into a bowl. nodding, you walked over to the oven to pull out the cooked bread and placed it on the table to begin slicing. he was intently staring at your movements, brows occasionally furrowing when he saw you circle around in your spot to find something. from the corner of your eye, you were taking in his appearance. well-built, broad shoulders. big, brown eyes that would leave the moon envying its radiance, and hair that silk merchants would spend years foraging for. he was a brilliant being, royal in his appearance which left you questioning why he was begging for food like a common peasant. you shot him a shy smile as you walked over to where he stood to grab the cutter, twirling it in your fingers. a common habit you did that would make your mother lose her mind. perhaps it was his towering presence, but the small knife slipped across your finger, gifting you with a small cut that made you hiss as it clattered onto the floor.

"ugh," you grumbled, it was just a small cut. nothing too serious, but it was enough pain to have tears seeping from the corners. the man in front of you pouted a bit, holding your hand gently to wrap his lips around your thumb. you were enchanted at the feeling of his warm mouth, and was that his tongue flicking against your cut? you couldn't tell properly because you were getting flustered at his eyes gazing at you. he looked like a wolf that had just found a baby dear, and just when he took a step forward to you, the bakery door opened again to reveal your mother with a basketful of eggs and vanilla extract and most vividly, a scowl on her face.

"(y/n), can i ask what's going on here?" she questioned, stopping just in front of the two of you. you gulped, trying to pluck your thumb out of the man's mouth but he instead chose to bite down, causing you to cry out as your blood pooled onto his tongue. you wriggled away from his little bubble of space, staring at your mother with a dumbfounded expression,

"he came in asking for anything to eat and i was going to cut the bread, but then ended up cutting my f-" you had begun only for your mother to instantly berate you,

"i've told you so many times! so many times to never twirl that around! you need to be careful, you never listen to me!" your mother scoffed, setting the ingredients down. you were opening your mouth to argue when the man besides you then licked his lip, eyes bigger than usual. you frowned, taking in his appearance once more to see if there was something abnormal about him. your mother grabbed a new knife to begin cutting, which allowed you some time to ease your curiosity.

"are you new here? what's your name?"

"i just moved here a few days ago. my name is carlos-"

"your family name?"

"not important... at least to you," he snapped, raising an eyebrow at your desire to know more about him. you coughed into your elbow, awkwardly shuffling to your mother to help with shelving away the ingredients. as you slipped to the back of the house which was your pantry, you could catch a glimpse of the woods from your window. the snow fell, the trees waited for rebirth in spring and your eyes cast down to the red footprints that curved around the bakery. you frowned, returning to your mother who was busy giving carlos a basketful of bread and scones. he was taking a bite of your raspberry scone when you overheard your mother bragging about your baking skills,

"she might be a bit dull at times, forgive her, her father died when she was young, but her scones are the best! a true baker at heart, that she is." your mother smiled, bringing her arm over your shoulder to pull you in for a side-hug. you shrugged your shoulders, feeling as though the praise was a bit forced from her end. you averted your eyes to the floor when you noticed the red snow on his boots. your jaw dropped for a second,

"mother, his..." when your eyes traveled back up to his face, the hardened glare that you faced stunned you into silence and you bowed your head once more, getting a good look at the red snow that peppered his feet. something felt wrong inside you, as if this strange... creature - because in what world would a normal human have red snow under their boots - was a warning for you to quit baking and move to the center of town.

"well, we hope you have a nice day..." your mother shook you from your thoughts with her loud voice, and then she turned to face you, "don't forgot we need to save some food for your grandmother. you need to deliver it for tonight."

"t-tonight?" you squeaked out, shoulders sagging, "but it'll be dark! it's the woods! you heard what lady charlotte said!"

"oh, enough with the superstitions. you'll be fine! now, do me a favor and go outside to grab some more wood," she grabbed your coat from the table, the shining red being the only luxury you could ever afford and patted your back, signaling for you to leave the bakery. carlos had followed you out, lurking behind you. his eyes cast down to the cloak that veiled your body pretty well from him, a sight that he wasn't very fond of. he saw your tits pressed upwards due to how tight your corset was, your blood tasted sweet to him, he missed the tang of iron on his tongue and with hooded eyes, he saw you scampering over to the pile of wooden logs just on the side of the bakery. he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent from afar and imprinting it into his memory. he would need it for later and with a cruel smirk, he took a bite of your scone and walked off.

"remember, the only place you go to tonight is your grandmother's house. don't stop, walk fast but do not run," your mother instructed you as she adjusted your coat. it was around 9:00 at night, which was the time that your grandmother had asked for you to come. you were a bit late since you overslept your nap, so while you were whining "do i really have to go?" "can't we do this tomorrow morning?" your mother shut you up with a kiss to your cheek, and shoved the basket into your hands. with a raised finger she narrowed her eyes at you, "listen to me, ok? i know you've always hated listening to me, but you need to do it tonight. it's dangerous out in the woods-"

"didn't you say there's nothing in the woods to worry about?" you snapped, scowling at her. she rolled her eyes, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation,

"Oh, for pete's sake! just be careful in the woods! remember to keep walking, never run and never stop. just keep walking." with a final tug of your hood, she sent you off on your little journey, a prayer on her lips as she watched you walk out for the night. the entrance to the woods was enough for you to debate about running back home. the intertwined twigs, the roots reaching out to grab your ankles and the utter darkness that flooded the area. the moon was your only companion tonight, and it was sure doing a terrible job because you could barely see anything. you held the basket close to your chest and stepped forward, carefully making sure not to make any sound. the last thing you needed was for lady charlotte's words to be true; that creature should never find you... ever.

your eyes darted nervously around, the slightest brush of wind making your skin crawl. in the darkness, your eyes were alert to see anything suspicious, anything out of the ordinary that would put your life at risk and despite the calm air that surrounded you, you felt as if you were being watched. you pulled the cloak closer to your body, bringing the hood down to mask your eyes. standing still for too long would attract someone, or something in this case, and thanks to the vivid color that you adorned around your body, you weren't a target to miss that easily. you clutched onto your basket, hovering your foot over the ground before taking another step and then the snapping of a twig, made you freeze in your spot. the sound thundered through the quiet forest, and you whimpered to yourself in fear that you might've awakened the fearful beast that lady charlotte had mentioned earlier.

"hermosa, what are you wandering around for?" an accented voice called out to you. you spun around, dropping the basket in the process as your breathing became more labored, terror forcing you to stand still. the man from earlier in the day was leaning against a tree, arms crossed as his muscles strained against the shirt that he was donning. he raised an eyebrow at your silence, and snapped his fingers, "answer me. your mother did say you were a bit dull."

"m-my... grandmother," you responded, pointing off to the distance, "s-she lives here in the w-woods, 'm just going to deliver her a basket of food." your feet crushed on a scone and you shrieked in horror, trying to salvage what was left of the food that had been dropped to the ground in your state of shock. with the goods stashed back into your basket, he stalked over to where you stood and reached down into your basket to pull out a raspberry scone, his lips enveloping around the crust of the treat. he groaned at the taste,

"your mother was right about you, mi vida, you're a really good baker," he licks his lips, bringing his finger to swipe the jam into his mouth, sucking the delicacy off. his eyes flicker from his finger to your anxious expression, "i wish i could repay you for your treats, they taste so good, hermosa."

"w-well, I... I should leave now," you whispered, taking a step back and much to your horror, he followed you. you saw his hand dig through his pockets, pulling out a vial that he shook between his index finger and thumb, it was red and cloudy.

"at least having something to drink on your trip, no?" he kept pushing forwards, the vial kissing your bottom lip, "the apothecary gave it to me once as a surprise. it's nice from what i heard..." but as you stumbled over your feet to get away from him, you noticed his eyebrows furrowing, lips turning into a frown.

keep walking. don't run. just walk.

you trudged forward, turning your back to him and speeding up your pace but you could hear his footsteps chasing after you. slow, hard thumps. each step shook the ground beneath you, and before you knew it he clasped his hand around your mouth. you screamed, wriggling under his grasps as his hand squeezed your jaw, desperate to get your mouth to open. your hands flew to release yourself from his grip, but his hand just wouldn't relent. he bit into the cork of the vial, spitting it out behind him and shoving the tip of the vial down your throat to let the liquid drain. it burned, your eyesight blurred with the tears that flowed down your cheeks. he shoved you onto the ground, yanking the cloak off your trembling frame. when you hear the jingling of an unbuckling belt, you're about to scream once more when he cussed out loud and took off running. you watched him try to avoid the moonlight that now shifted to where he ran off, and you swore you saw big meaty paws tread through the ground. was it... was it the werewolf lady charlotte mentioned? was he the beast you were fearing this whole time? you felt the liquid's foreign taste still cling to your tongue, and you hesitantly got up to see the dent on the forest ground.

and there it was. the footprint the size of 7 scones, and you wailed at the sight of blood staining the print. you fled, grabbing the basket and heading to an unknown direction. with the way you were running, the contents of your basket flew out, leaving a little trail unbeknownst to you. you had to get to your grandmother's house. forget about what your mother said about walking, no you had to run! every corner that you turned made your heart beat louder, and soon your basket was abandoned. you wanted to go home, you wanted to leave the woods. this was all a mistake! why did you stop? why didn't you keep walking? at the sound of a piercing howl that cut through the silent air of the night, you fainted onto a small flower bed, unable to control the fear that consumed you.

a mistake that you later learned would cost you greatly.

when your eyes fluttered open a few hours later, you gazed up at the night sky, the moon was out to greet you as if to apologize for what a horrid night you were having. you whimpered at the way your body felt heavy, a strange warmth that creeped down your body, leaving you aching in a very strange way. you propped yourself up on your elbows, gazing down to see that your breasts were slightly enlarged, struggling at the edge of the corset. you frowned, feeling a strange sensation near your covered areolas - a wisp of dampness - and as much as you wanted to investigate your body's strange response to the environment, you figured undressing in the forest - especially with that monster around - would only make your situation much worse. with great effort, you stood up and almost fell onto the tree besides the flower bed, and grabbing the empty basket you struggled to walk towards the pathway that you saw. you just didn't understand why you felt so tired, your mind a foggy mess. you rubbed your eyes, yawning and blaming the lateness of the night for your behavior and kept going forward, remembering your mother's words. never run, never stop but always walk.

and then you saw it. the damned cottage. the reason behind all your sufferings. you scowled at the sight of it. you prayed the day of your grandmother's death so that you could sell this stupid place and never trek through the forest ever again. you hauled yourself up the front steps, still sore and incredibly sweaty - as you naively assumed - from the journey. you let your body rest on the front door for a small moment, and let out a small whine when the wooden surface brush against your clothed nipples. you felt delirious, yearning for something that you couldn't understand. your chest felt like it was on fire, and you barely had enough energy to even open the door. you screamed in frustration, banging the basket onto the door.

"grandmother! grandmother!" you bellowed, mouth hung open as you were panting, trying to understand what was wrong with you.

"come in!" a raspy voice called out to you, it was accented, but your poor mother was right all along: (y/n) (l/n) was dull headed, and with a mushy brain, there was no way she could make out her grandmother's voice clearly. you pushed the door open weakly, leaning against it once you had closed it firmly. you narrowed your eyes, the darkness of the night doing very little to help your vision. the moonlight shone from the window on the side, illuminating just the end of your grandmother's bed. you sighed out loud, plopping the basket at her feet,

"oh, grandmother!" you whined, "please leave this cottage! i had to go through so much. mother gave me so many treats, and... and i was being chased... i lost them all... I... oh!"

you threw your head back, tears falling from your eyes as your entire body felt like it was about to explode. you bit the inside of your cheek, just about ready to rip your corset and the shirt underneath off you. your hands clenched into fists and you slammed them onto the bed, right onto the feet of your grandmother. that was large. you frowned, glancing up to see the silhouette of her face.

"why grandmother! what large feet you have! did you break them, are they swollen?" you asked, genuine concern laced in your voice. you missed the way your grandmother shifted her position in the bed, trying to get friction somewhere that wasn't necessarily appropriate for an old lady such as herself. you walked around the bed, to the darker side where the moon wouldn't shine and saw the hands that crept out of the blankets.

"the better to travel to see you, my dear," your grandmother responded, and when she brought her hand up to brush the backside of it against your cheek, you frowned at the size of her hand.

"why grandmother! what large hands you have! when did they get so big? let me guess, arthritis?" you pressed further, and when your grandmother smiled, it felt as if she was barring her teeth, her canines sharper and pointier.

"the better to bake scones with you, my dear!" she responded, her voice dropping down to a low growl as her hand traveled down to rest right above your breasts, which had you whimpering, arching into the touch. you glanced back down to see the smile more prominent than ever,

"why grandmother! what big teeth you have!" you squeaked out, and with a harsh squeeze of your tits that made you squeal in oversensitivity, the being in front of you lets the covers of the bed fall to the ground to reveal themselves as none other than carlos. the very being you were running from.

"the better to eat you, mi zorra!" he roared, lunging at you. your screams were overshadowed by the way the bed snapped against the wall as he pounced onto you. he grabbed onto your ankle, tugging but you twist your body and kick him firmly in his face, ignoring the way your shoe cuts his lip. he hissed in pain, muttering curses in his language before grabbing onto your crawling frame, dragging your tits against the floor which left you sobbing, aching for some relief. hurling you onto the bed, he sat behind you and let each of his legs wrap around yours to hold you in place. on the right, where the moon shone through the window, you noticed his leg grow hairier, his hand - no paw - with jagged claws ripping the corset off you, along with the rest of your clothes. you're screaming, crying at how you want to go home and what happened to your grandmother. where even was she?

her rotting corpse outside, tossed into the pond, would never be found ever again.

the warmth of his paw along with the coolness of his hand made you let out a strangled moan as he began to grope your tits. your head thrown back onto the shoulder of his fur-covered side, as his thumb flicked over your sore, puffy nipples. you glanced down finally to see that this entire time you weren't sweating, you were leaking! milk oozing out of your nipples, and every time he'd squeeze harshly you'd moan out loud as he watched you spray the bed with your natural milk.

"Oh, mierda, this is working out better than I imagined," he grunted into your ear, and then he brought his hand down on your tits, slapping you with force. you sobbed, needing him to grab a handful of your swollen bosom, you can't stand this anymore. the fire is everywhere in your body, and with each blow, he laughed at the way your tits jiggled under his touch, the way your hips bucked. his paw, in the meantime, came towards your unattended tit and his claw circled your weeping nipple, and with a little bit of added pressure, you're silently screaming at the pleasure you're feeling. it's too much for you, all too much for you to handle! he flipped you over to your back, standing on the side of his bed as he fully returned to his human form at the darkness and he grabbed hold of your jaw, "kicking me, screaming into my ears, thrashing around... every other prey was so much easier, but you? what a fucking pain."

he spat at your face, letting the saliva rest on your cheek as he slapped your tits firmly. you sobbed out loud, begging him to end your suffering, to let you go. his dark chuckles did little to satisfy your pleas, and instead he harshly gropes your tits, sticking his tongue out to catch the stream of milk that spurt out of you. he licked his lips, head thrown backwards, "es tan perfecto, tastes so good."

he raised an eyebrow, looking down at your writhing body and he let his thumb rub into a drop of you milk before rolling your nipple around, "imagine being able to have this milk to myself... all the time. it's expensive, princesa, having to buy the formula secretly. right when everyone wants to fucking kill me."

your mind can't comprehend his words, too far gone in pleasure and still yearning for more. your tits still feel full, they still feel heavy and with parted lips, you moaned about what was going on, what even happened. how did you even end up here? carlos smirked, leaning his head forward to wrap his mouth around your areolas, beginning to suck. that was all that needed for your questions to simmer down for the moment, the room only flooded with your incoherent moans and whines. he sucked and squeezed, biting down on your nipple and letting his teeth sink into the fat of your tit, enough to draw a bit of blood. his tongue lapped at it, murmuring against your skin how your blood tasted so good at the bakery, that he just knew he needed to have you.

"and i will, because i always get what i want," he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. he grabbed you by the back of your neck, tossing you onto the floor where the moonlight decorated it with fervor. you could hear the faint sounds of undressing and when you opened your eyes, you saw him transform into the creature that horrified you. the wolf got down to his knees, and your eyes drifted down to his cock that was visibly throbbing, leaking pre-cum just for you. your head fell back onto the floor, your mind already shutting down because nothing seemed to make sense. this had to be a horrible dream, there was no other explanation. he yanked your body closer to him, spreading your legs as his massive tongue dragged over your cunt. you bucked your hips into the air, demanding for more and he continued, rolling your clit around before letting his tongue invade your precious hole. his fangs grazed against the inside of your thigh, and every time it did so, the fear flood into you and in short bursts of 5 seconds, you had enough consciousness to push his head away. weak attempts as they were, but he could clearly hear your cries.

"n-no, please... stop i can't take it anymore!" you hoarsely whined by the time he brought you to your 4th orgasm just on his tongue. his tongue exists your swollen cunt, trailing up to your tits and circling around your hardened peaks that continued to leak. he brought his massive head down to suck once more and you're holding your breath, praying he doesn't bite your tits off. and for the first time since he transformed into a wolf, his deep guttural voice finally spoke up,

"the finest milk to feed the pups i'll put in your belly," his words rang in your ear, and you tried to sit up but his paw pushed you back down, his fangs on display as his muzzle pressed against your neck, a silent warning for you to try and refuse his desire to breed you. he cock slid against your folds, almost teasing you and seeing if you'll deny him. if you'll shove him away. but considering you're too fucked out at the moment to do anything, you watch helplessly as his paws hold onto your hips and he enters you in one swift thrust, burying himself as far your body can allow him. you arch your back at the stretch, the air being knocked out of your lungs. you let out a choked scream, as you felt every thick, pulsing inch of his cock being shoved into you, spreading you open and filling you entirely. your slick cunt clenched around the intrusion, struggling to accommodate its girth. he snarled in feral pleasure, relishing the feel of your silken gummy walls gripping him like a vice. he started to move, his hips pumping as he fucked into you with deep, pounding strokes. the force of his thrusts rocked your entire body, your heavy, leaking tits bouncing and swaying with each impact. lewd sounds filled the air - the slap of flesh on flesh, the squelch of your dripping cunt being plowed, and the wolf's grunts as he wanted to ruin you every other man.

"oh, hermosa, imagine your belly all round and swollen, carrying my pups. your tits leaking to feed them. you'd be like this for the rest of your life, stuffed with my cum and so beautiful, no?" he growled, before laughing at the tears streaming down your face at his words. the reality of the situation was dawning on you. yet, the pleasure was the only thing you could focus on, and you let out another strangled moan which he took as confirmation. his claws dug into the soft flesh of your rear, leaving red crescent marks as he gripped you tighter, pounding into you harder.

"w-where was i going? what... what, oh! what was i coming here for?" you weakly asked through moans. everything was a blur, you couldn't remember how you got here, you couldn't even remember your life before this very moment. everything only revolved around his cock hammering into you at an ungodly pace.

"mi vida, you were on your way to meet me!" he chuckled, before grunting at the way your pussy clenched around him.

"b-but the b-basket... the..."

"they were all for me! you were going to treat me first before letting me breed you, hermosa! such a good girl for me," he grinned, fangs shining under the moonlight. thick strands of your arousal splattered with each unforgiving pump of his hips, coating his fur with your juices. your pussy clenched and fluttered around his pistoning cock, milking it greedily as if trying to coax out its creamy load. you were screaming, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continued to drill his member further into you, and as his thrusts became more erratic, he came shortly after with a loud growl making sure to continue his thrusts so that not even one drop of his cum seeped out of you. every drop counted to him. you whimpered when he pulled out, only to roll you onto your stomach, ass positioned into the air.

"we are far from done, i will stuff you with my cum again and again and again until i see your belly growing with my pups," he slapped your ass as emphasis, rejoicing in your whimpers.

when your worrying mother woke up the next morning eagerly waiting for your arrival, she opened the bakery door only to be met with disappointment once again. she knew you were foolish enough to have gotten yourself killed in the woods, but there had to still be a chance that you were alive and well. she sighed, letting her eyes fall onto the snow and her foot touched something unexpected. she scowled, eyes snapping downwards to see a very particular thing.

a raspberry scone spread apart, the red jam oozing out.

[conkreetmonkey]

So you're saying that, theoretically, a hoodie with a black body and a plaid hood, with rollable sleeves and a light fabric, would be the ideal transmasc garment? Maybe you could also make the kangaroo pouch plaid to match. Potentially that could do some shit with drawing the eye to it instead of the chest? idk... taking notes tho. I wonder if buttoned front vs zippered front vs pullover does anything... like, there's probably an "optimal" effective-yet-comfortable curve obscuring garment somewhere between the dysphoria hoodie and the flannel, right? Splicing their DNA in my evil lab... Thanks for these informative posts, OP! (not transmasc myself, but have like at least 5 transmasc friends lol. Love trans dudes, it's somehow joyful seeing others find joy in that which I couldn't, like... yes, welcome to Guyville, I'm looking to move out but I'm glad others enjoy it here! You can have my house, furniture and other spare stuff when I go! The door shuts a little funny tho, let me show you how to close it right... omg, gifts from your old place in Galtown? You shouldn't have! I'm actually gonna move there myself! Let's stay in touch!)

team hoodie or team flannel?

this is all just my opinion, what works for me will work differently for you

[neferaskingdom]

♡ You're Family | CL16

PART OF MY IS IT CASUAL NOW? SERIES

Summary: It's hard being casual when my favorite bra lives in your dresser, And it's hard being casual when I'm on the phone talking down your brother.

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

After the summer break, things between her and Charles shift in subtle but undeniable ways. He goes back to racing, and she falls into a comfortable rhythm at home, taking care of Leo and focusing on work. But her world feels fuller now, punctuated by unexpected calls, invitations, and little gestures that keep her close to the Leclercs, even when Charles is away.

It starts with Pascale, who invites her over one afternoon for coffee. It’s warm and welcoming, the kind of invitation that makes her feel like she’s known Pascale forever. “Come, sit down, ma belle,” Pascale says, guiding her to a cozy seat in the kitchen. She fusses over her with warmth that feels so genuine it makes her chest ache.

“You know, it’s ridiculous that Charles hasn’t introduced us sooner,” Pascale chides, shaking her head. “I told him, ‘If you’re serious about someone, we should meet her, no?’”

She feels her cheeks warm but laughs it off. “Oh, I don’t know if you’d call it serious. We’re just…”

Pascale waves a hand, dismissing her words. “Please, I’ve seen the way he talks about you. We know when it’s serious.” She pours coffee into a delicate cup and hands it to her, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Plus, the way he sulks when you’re at work—he’s like a lost puppy. We tease him for it!”

And just like that, Pascale has her laughing and sharing stories, making her feel like part of the family. Before she knows it, these coffee dates turn into a regular thing, and Pascale even insists on cutting her hair, brushing away her protests with a gentle but firm hand. They chat and laugh, talking about everything from family to work, and she leaves every time feeling a bit more like she belongs.

Then there’s Charlotte. One day, she calls, suggesting a girls’ day out, just the two of them. They roam the city, stopping at boutiques and trying on sunglasses, gossiping and laughing over coffee like old friends. Charlotte is sharp, witty, and fun, making her feel completely at ease.

“So, you’ve really got Charles wrapped around your finger, huh?” Charlotte teases as they browse the racks of a boutique. “I don’t think I’ve seen him this smitten since… well, ever.”

She rolls her eyes, brushing off the comment with a laugh. “Smitten? He’s just… we’re just friends.”

“Right,” Charlotte says with a knowing smile. “And I’m just the Queen of England.”

Then there’s Arthur. They start chatting more, mostly joking around after he realizes she’s following his races, and she finds herself quickly warming to him. Arthur is loud, playful, and full of life, and they click almost instantly. They trade inside jokes, and after a particularly hard race, he texts her sounding completely drained.

Arthur: "Rough night. I don’t think I’m cut out for this sometimes."

You: "Hey, that’s not true. You’re amazing — you know that, right?"

Arthur: "Maybe. But sometimes it’s hard to remember. Everything feels stacked against me."

So she called him, letting him vent as he rambled about the pressures of racing, the constant comparisons to Charles, and the weight he carried. She offered gentle reassurances, reminding him of his strengths and how far he’d come.

At one point, she said softly, “Arthur, you’re going to be incredible. I know it. And you know Charles would be the first to say that too.”

After a pause, he replied, a little more lighthearted, “You know, you’re like the family therapist at this point.”

She laughed. “Guess I’m putting in overtime then.”

By the end of the call, he sounded much better, his spirits lifted, and they both promised to catch up in person soon.

But it’s when Charles is back in town that things really start to feel different. He’s even clingier than before, draping himself over her whenever he’s home, complaining dramatically about his “stolen” family.

“Honestly, I go away for two weeks, and suddenly, you’re maman’s new favorite?” he grumbles one night, leaning his head on her shoulder as they lounge on his couch. “Arthur calls you more than he calls me, you know.”

She laughs, nudging him playfully. “Oh, come on, it’s not like they’ve replaced you. Besides, you’re the one who left me with your family!”

“Yeah, but they’re my family,” he insists with a pout, his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of mischief. “Honestly, you’re all I think about when I’m away, and then I come back, and I have to share you with everyone else? Unacceptable.”

“You poor thing,” she says mockingly, patting his cheek. “Must be so hard for you, having people who love you.”

Charles grins, leaning closer until his face is just inches from hers. “Oh, it is. I think you should make it up to me.”

The way he says it makes her heart race, and they end up tangled together until she can’t think straight. One thing leads to another, and the next morning, she playfully grumbles about needing to go back to her apartment to grab fresh clothes.

“Honestly, Charles, I swear you’ve destroyed half my wardrobe at this point,” she teased, reaching for her phone. “I don’t think I have any underwear left.”

Charles smirked from where he leaned against the doorway, still looking far too pleased with himself. “Check the top drawer of my wardrobe.”

She raised an eyebrow, giving him a curious look. “What?”

“Go on, take a look.”

Confused but intrigued, she opened the drawer, her eyes widening as she took in the sight: a stack of her clothes, neatly folded. T-shirts, a couple of sweaters, even some underwear — and her favorite bra. She gasped, lifting it up and shooting him an accusing look.

“Charles! You kept my favorite bra?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You leave things here all the time anyway, so I just… organized. It’s more practical this way. Now you don’t have to go all the way home every time.”

She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. “You made me a drawer?”

“Of course,” he said, walking up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Gotta make sure my friend is comfortable.”

She rolled her eyes, feeling warmth spread through her chest. “If this is just friendship, Charles, I’d hate to see you with someone you actually care about.”

He chuckled, tilting her chin up and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I’d just be even worse,” he murmured, eyes sparkling.

The words, though playful, lingered with her. The closeness, the drawer, his mother’s invitations — they all hinted at something deeper than what they’d agreed on. But every time she’d try to piece together her thoughts, he’d pull her back in, and she’d find herself giving in, trying not to read into every little sign.

As things grew deeper, she found herself wrestling with her feelings more and more, unsure of where she stood. Despite the time spent together, despite the way his family had practically adopted her, she kept reminding herself that they were just friends. That’s all they’d agreed on, after all.

But Charles’s actions often left her wondering. The drawer, the constant calls, the way he made sure to always check in on her… it felt like more. And yet, whenever she started thinking like that, he’d casually brush it off with a laugh, leaving her both hopeful and hesitant.

One morning, just as he was heading out for another meeting, he casually mentioned, “Oh, by the way, Charlotte called. She wants to meet up with you tomorrow.”

She raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. “Oh? For what?”

He shrugged, buttoning up his jacket with that effortless confidence he had. “Wedding stuff, I think? She said she needed your help picking some things out.”

She blinked, surprised. “Wedding stuff? Isn’t that more… you know, family stuff?”

Charles glanced at her, looking amused by her confusion. “Exactly. That’s why she wants you there.”

Her heart stuttered, the implications of his words hitting her harder than she expected. She stood there, watching him as he finished getting ready, too shocked to find the words. Did he even realize what he’d just implied? Did he know what that invitation meant?

Unbothered by her inner turmoil, he leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. “Don’t overthink it,” he said softly, his eyes crinkling with a familiar warmth. “I’ll be back early tonight.”

And with that, he was out the door, leaving her standing there, the weight of her growing feelings settling over her like a heavy blanket.

In the silence that followed, she let out a shaky breath, her thoughts spiraling. Somewhere along the way, she’d crossed an invisible line — a line she couldn’t pretend didn’t exist anymore. She was in too deep, and for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she could keep up the pretense.

Taglist: @dullypully @sageskiesf1 @firefirevampire @eloriis @meadhbhcavanagh @raweceeks @amyelevenn @leclrcg @anunstablefangirl @chaoswithus @spngirl05 @bigdickdannyric1

@doofenshmirtzevil-inc @linneaguriii @gaslysainz @leclercdream

[gothicfied]

(Squid game s2) Can you write a comfort fic about an insecure reader has past trauma and has endured Highschool bullying. When she joins the games and is in the group (Gi-hun, Dae-ho, Jun-hee & others) but once they meet Jun-hee she gets pushed aside and has to join another group in the second game. Feel free to change or add anything, the pairing could be Daeho x reader but it’s up to you <33

Never alone again - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x Reader

Summary: After seeing you almost die, Dae-ho swore he wouldn't leave your side ever again.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word Count: ~ 1.2k

A/N: hii! tysm for the request and I hope I did it justice.

You believed Gi-hun from the start. You believed he was right, no sane person would just say stuff like that, right? That they kill each player who gets eliminated? He seemed too damn serious for it to be a lie. And lo and behold, he was right. People. Shot dead. Right in front of you. Red-Light-Green-Light was a traumatic experience. You wanted to quit, you wanted to go home, go home and hug your parents and just be grateful to still be alive.

It was like the universe had turned against you. How wasn't everyone scared out of their minds like you? Was money really all that mattered to them? A heated discussion broke out during the first voting, angry voices yelling at each other, accusing Gi-hun of lying. You took all the courage you had left in you to try and stand up for him, at least make it known that you sided with him. Past experiences, especially your school time, usually made it hard for you to speak up, but that shouldn't really be an issue right now — You could end up dead, that's what worried you. After the voting, that didn't go your way at all, Gi-hun showed gratitude for your courage to say something and suggested you'd stick with him from now on.

Added to your group were In-ho, the last player who actually voted 'O', Jung-bae and Dae-ho, who were both former marines. While eating the lunch provided to you by the guards, those two immediately bonded over their former occupation, which you found endearing. Even though you were currently still to shy to join in on their conversations, you were content with just having a group you could stick to — Because you were sure you absolutely wouldn't survive in here alone.

"And, what's your name?" Dae-ho asked, as hd took a seat on the stairs next to you, happily eating his food. When you told him he gasped, almost chocking in the process. "That's my sisters name!" he laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. You just replied with a little "Oh? No way." and then he began rambling about his life, about his four sisters, about how his father sent him to be a marine and so on. He closed his monologue saying "Anyway, that's a really pretty name." and then proceeded to ask you for your leftover food. He made you laugh, which was nice considering you all were stuck in this hellhole.

In Dae-ho's opinion, you two had a lot in common, even if you didn't at all. He suggested you slept in the bed right under his which was.. well, free now after the first game. At night, you couldn't help but overthink your interactions with not only him, but the other three guys, too. They were so nice and welcoming. All of them had a special attribute that will probably be useful in the coming few days.. and you? You had the feeling that you brought nothing to the table.

The next day, a vast majority of the players went into the second game with the impression that this will be Dalgona, like Gi-hun predicted. Apparently not. The female voice over the speakers ordered the players to form groups of five. "Ah, how perfect," In-ho smiled, "guess we'll be a group then." You looked between the men, nodding in agreement and just when you were about to say something-

"Excuse me, are you maybe searching for one more person-?"

"Oh, no I'm sorry, we're actually already five peo-"

"I'm pregnant."

The girl cut Jung-bae off, resting her hands on her pregnant belly. You raised your eyebrows in shock and no one really seemed to know what to do next. Oh, you felt bad for her. She must've been very desperate if she entered the games while being pregnant. You five were just looking at each other confused, until you took a deep breath: "It's okay, I'll find another group. She needs to be with people she can absolutely win with." You looked at the girl and she looked back, slowly giving you a grateful smile. "No it's okay I'll go-" Dae-ho tried to say, but you waved him off, shaking your head.

"Well.. No, you can't just.."

"Dae-ho," In-ho said in a low tone, putting a hand on his shoulder, "she's pregnant." he said, like Dae-ho needed a reminder of what was right in front of him. You weren't that important to the team anyways, and that girl needed your help. So, it was decided, and in the end you did find a team of three players who voted 'X', like you, and one who didn't. You felt fairly safe with these people and even if you didn't, you didn't have much of a choice.

The game was a six-legged pentathlon with five mini games you had to split between each team member to complete. Watching the first few teams go was an absolute adrenaline rush, given the small amount of time of five minutes, the first few players were shot on sight pretty early on. This made you nervous to the point where you could throw up. Your original group was sitting a few meters away from youd current one and you did lock eyes with Dae-ho quite a bit, him giving you reassuring glances or a thumbs up. You mustered up a smile, trying yo calm your thoughts down.

I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this-

Oh but you could. Your team, which came before Gi-hun's, barely made it over the finish line with three seconds to spare, making the crowd of waiting players roar and cheer and yell "Good job!". The most time you lost was at Gonggi, thankfully not your mini game. Being able to beat yours on the first try filled you with the confidence you needed, which was probably the only thing that kept you up on your feet. Speaking of which, the shackles, that bound your left leg together with the player next to you, were taken off of them and you were free to go. Well, back into the dorm area.

Anxiously, you sat on your bed and waited, for your team. Players streamed in, one after the other, just not the ones you were so desperate to see. You were biting your fingernails, your thoughts being flooded with the fear of them all just dying, being left alone to survive this shit.

Suddenly, you heard a voice call out for you. It was Dae-ho (who else?) who basically sprinted to you. Before you could even stand up to reciprocate his hug, he pulled you up into his arms, squeezing the air out if his lungs. "Do you know how scared I was?" he sounded really out of breath. You didn't reply, just hugged him back the best you could and watched Jung-bae laugh to himself, watching the two of you. "I'm so glad you're alive! I'll never let you do that again, okay? Next time, I'll be the one to find another group.. not you okay?" His word vomit just wouldn't stop.

"Let's hope there won't be a next time."

"Obviously there won't be, I won't ever let you leave again."

[spoiledprincessbratspostsblog]

needing

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

Warnings: English isn't my first language so I apologize for any and all mistakes. All GIF credits to the owner. Heavy implications of smut but no actual smut. Kind of Toxic!Rafe but idk??This is lowkey rushed but I needed it to get out there lol.

ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚

Being JJ’s sister already meant people had a bad perception of you, but your attitude did not help the rumors anyway. You weren’t known for being nice to everyone, and that was fine because it scared the weirdos away most of the time.

You’ve always seemed strong and independent. Insults usually rolled right off you, and situations didn’t seem to bother you. Being hard-headed and having an attitude all the time was a good cover. But it was all a front. At home, your dad would constantly abuse alcohol, and you and JJ often bore the brunt of his rage. When JJ started sleeping at John B’s house and only saw you once a week, you ended up taking most of the hits.

You were friends with the Pogues, but not as close as JJ was, so you didn’t feel comfortable staying at John B’s house.

You met Rafe almost a year ago at a party. It was meant to be an emotionless hook-up and nothing more. But over time, what started as frequent, meaningless sex evolved into a friends-with-benefits situation. You two began spending a lot of time together, both with and without there being sex involved. He started taking you out to places and even to parties with his friends and others around.

But he wasn’t your boyfriend. And every time you attempted to bring it up he'd claimed he “couldn’t be the man you needed.” Despite that, as you grew closer, he eventually learned about your home life. Rafe wasn’t stupid—he knew Pogues had it hard—but he hadn’t realized how much your situation affected you. How you were really a sweet and caring person who had just been hurt by your situation. Once he did learn, he started spending more time with you at his house, claiming, “Look, I know this is just sex, but come on, I can’t have you around that bullshit, ‘kay?”

You didn’t complain—free days at Tannyhill with him were a welcome escape!

Everything was fine until Rafe started treating you like an actual girlfriend. You wanted to be his, but was he really capable? Anyway, it wasn’t what he wanted—he’d made that very clear—so it didn’t matter.

Then, you two got into a bad argument last week. You’d started feeling very dependent on Rafe, and you hated it. So you began to pull back, which only made him care more. One comment led to another, and…

“Rafe, stop. If you’re not my boyfriend, stop acting like you care about me like one.”

“My god! You don’t want me to care about you just ‘cause I don’t wanna be your boyfriend? S’pathetic.”

“Fuck you!” you yelled before storming out.

You hadn’t seen or talked to him since. He was pissed but still wanted to fix things; he just didn’t know how.

That’s when you called.

Your dad had come home drunk, yelling and throwing things. You could no longer bear it. So you called Rafe.

“Hey, I’ll be at yours in like half an hour,” you told him, not waiting for a response.

When you arrived, Wheezie let you in. (She already knew the procedure and wouldn’t snitch,) but she stopped you.

“Hey, you okay? You don’t look okay,” she asked.

You put on your best smile. “Yeah! M’fine! Rafe’s here, right?” She nodded and let you pass.

When you reached Rafe’s room, he was sitting on his bed. His eyes instantly met yours. You climbed onto the bed, inching towards him, and eventually straddled him without saying a word while he stared at you.

“Hi,” you whispered before kissing him.

Rafe, being a man with needs, initially kissed you back. But after sensing something was wrong, he pulled back.

“Nah, nah, you were just over here yelling at me. I’m not mad, okay, but you’re not okay,” he said, concern in his voice.

You frowned as tears welled up in your eyes. “Rafe, m’fine. I’m sorry. You’re forgiven. Please just kiss me. Come on, I just need to forget.”

He kissed you again but stopped when he felt you begin to cry lightly, your breath hitching out of sadness.

“Nah, baby, come on,” he said, pulling you into a hug and holding you tight.

You couldn’t cry in front of him. You couldn’t be so attached to him. It freaked you out, and you tried to push him off.

“Rafe, stop!” you cried, but his grip only tightened.

“What is it? Is it me?” he asked softly, stroking your hair to calm you down. “Your parents?” he whispered.

Finally, you broke down, crying into his chest and wetting his shirt with your tears. Although you had previously confided in him, it had never been like this. He whispered a series of “M’sorrys” as he stroked your hair.

When you finally calmed down, you pulled back and got off him, heading to his mirror to clean yourself up. He stared at you with concern.

“Shit, sorry. Okay, well, m’gonna go now,” you said quickly.

He immediately got up and walked over, towering over you. “The fuck you are. You haven’t told me what’s wrong or why you tried to forget by fucking me.”

“I just needed to forget, okay? No point crying over something I can’t change.”

“Something you can’t change?”

“What?”

“What is the something you can’t change?”

“The situation with my dad and your feelings toward me,” you calmly explained.

“Now, why’d you think fucking was gonna make everything better, huh?” he scolded, switching the topic.

You looked away. “Thought that’s what you wanted.”

“What?”

“I thought you’d no longer be mad at me or wouldn’t care if I was crying if you got to fuck,” you said lightly.

He scoffed in disbelief. “You think that’s the kind of person I am? Baby, I care so much more for you than I’ll ever let on, okay? And this isn’t just sex. You are so much more to me as a person. It’s important to me that you know that, ‘kay?”

You nodded, still waiting for him to respond to your earlier comment.

His face softened. “Look, I wanna be your boyfriend, ‘kay? More than anything, fuck, believe me. But I can’t be the man you deserve. You deserve so much better.”

You scoffed lightly. “But I want you.”

He sighed. “Let me better myself. Then I promise.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead softly. “Stay here tonight, yeah?”

You nodded.

Later that night, as you drifted off to sleep, he kissed your arms, shoulders, and face with gentle affection. “I love you,” he whispered before the both of you fell asleep.

[ivyues]

Tangled Lines | 1 | - Seungmin

Seungmin x Lee Know's sister

What started as a simple favor, dropping off a bag, spirals into a whirlwind of unexpected feelings and unspoken tension.

Part 2: Caught in the Middle | Part 3: Future Hyung-in-Law

It was supposed to be a quick errand. Lee Know had left his bag at home, and you were on your way to Seoul for a short trip anyway. You’d planned to drop it off at his dorm – no big deal. You didn’t expect much, certainly not a run-in with anyone other than your brother.

You followed the directions Lee Know had sent you and pulled up to the apartment complex. He'd mentioned his dorm several times, but this was the first time you’d ever actually been here. As you walked up to the door, you hesitated for a moment, unsure.

You rang the doorbell and waited. After a few moments, the door swung open, and there stood a guy you didn’t recognize.

He was tall-ish, dressed casually, with messy dark hair and an easy smile. And though you didn’t know exactly who he was, you couldn’t help but notice how cute he looked, his eyes lighting up with surprise and curiosity when he saw you standing there with a bag in hand.

“Hi…?” You hesitated, unsure if you had the right place. “Uh, I’m looking for Lee Minho? I’m his sister – he left something at home and I’m supposed to drop it off.”

The guy blinked in confusion for a split second, then his expression softened into something warmer. “Ah, so you’re his sister. He didn’t really mention that he has one. I’m Seungmin, by the way. Hyung isn’t home right now, but you’re welcome to wait.”

You were still standing at the door, processing everything. This was definitely not Lee Know. You had imagined this whole interaction would be simple: drop off the bag, say a quick hello, and head out. But there was something about Seungmin’s easy going demeanor that made you hesitate.

“Oh,” you said, realizing you were probably standing there awkwardly. You tried to adjust the bag in your hand, giving him a nervous smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can just leave it here—”

“No, no,” Seungmin cut you off, holding up his hands in a gesture of reassurance. “It’s fine. Come on in. He would probably kill me if I didn’t let you inside. Lee Know’s stuff is everywhere, though – warning in advance.” He gave a sheepish grin, clearly used to the chaos.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, stepping inside.

As soon as you entered, you realized that he was right – Lee Know’s ‘stuff’ was indeed scattered everywhere. Shoes piled near the door, jackets on the couch, random snacks, and clutter in every corner. It felt so… lived-in. Real. It was kind of charming, in a messy, chaotic way.

“So, do you guys always live like this?” you asked, half teasing, half amused by the clutter.

Seungmin chuckled. “You should see Felix’s side. This is nothing compared to his mess.” He led you into the living room, where he motioned to the couch. “Make yourself at home. I’ll grab some water for you while you wait.”

As Seungmin disappeared into the kitchen, you sat down on the couch, looking around. You hadn’t expected to spend time here, but the laid-back atmosphere made it feel oddly comfortable. You noticed a few framed photos of the group on the wall – some from concerts, others just candid shots of the guys laughing together.

Seungmin returned with a glass of water and handed it to you. He sat down on the arm of the couch, casually resting one foot on the seat. He didn’t seem rushed, nor did he act weird about the fact that you were here in Lee Know’s absence.

“So, I take it you and Lee Know are pretty close?” Seungmin asked, taking a sip from his own glass of water.

“Yeah, we’re close,” you said with a smile. “He’s my older brother, so, of course, he’s annoying. But that’s what older brothers are for, right?”

Seungmin nodded, his lips curving into a grin. “I know exactly what you mean.”

You laughed, the easy back-and-forth making you feel more comfortable. And, truth be told, you found yourself glancing at him more than you had planned. He was cute, undeniably so, with his expressive eyes and the way he seemed so effortlessly relaxed even in the middle of a stranger walking into his home.

You casually brought up something about how Lee Know was always messing around with his bandmates, and Seungmin smiled at the comment, sharing a story of their last rehearsal and how Lee Know had pulled a prank on Hyunjin. It felt so easy, like you were just chatting with a friend you’d known forever.

A few minutes later, you heard the door open, and you looked up to see Lee Know walking in with Felix and I.N trailing behind him. He froze when he saw you sitting there with Seungmin, a strange look flashing across his face.

“Uh,” Lee Know said, his voice tinged with surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought your bag,” you said casually, holding it up for him. “You left it at home. Seungmin was nice enough to let me wait for you.”

Lee Know shot a quick glance at Seungmin, who was now grinning, clearly enjoying the moment. “So you two are already chatting it up?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin replied smoothly. “We were just getting to know each other. Your sister’s cool.”

Seungmin didn’t just mean it as a compliment; there was a teasing note to his voice, and you could tell he was just enjoying the moment with Lee Know. But there was something in the way he spoke, as though he was daring Lee Know to be annoyed. You could tell it was playful – he wasn’t quite serious, and he didn’t think anything more would come from it. After all, he didn’t even want to start anything that might cause trouble. But for now, he wanted to tease Lee Know, especially since it was so easy to get a rise out of him like that.

You stood up, handing Lee Know the bag. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

You could tell by the way Seungmin looked at you that he wasn’t just teasing you; there was something more genuine behind the conversation. But of course, you’d never let your brother know that.

-----

Felix, ever the social butterfly, had exchanged numbers with you long before, and somewhere in the process of joking group chats and shared chaos, Seungmin had slid into your messages.

The texts started off simple.

A casual “thanks for the water” message after your first visit turned into occasional updates about Lee Know: "Your brother’s sulking because Changbin ate his snacks again" or "Did he always hoard laundry like this?" 

You didn’t think much of it at first. After all, Seungmin was easy to talk to. He had a quick wit that matched your sarcasm, and his humor always made you laugh harder than you’d admit. But the conversations had shifted somewhere along the way – becoming more personal, more frequent.

It wasn’t just updates about Lee Know anymore.

Seungmin: “Did you see that new ramen place on your side of town?” You: “I’ve heard it’s good. Why, thinking of coming all the way here?” Seungmin: “Maybe I just needed an excuse.”

It was subtle, these shifts. A lingering tone of something that felt like flirting but stayed safely within the lines of plausible deniability. But you caught yourself smiling at his messages more than you should.

The problem was, you liked him.

Not in a passing way or a harmless crush you could laugh off later. No, Seungmin’s steady humor and surprising kindness were becoming harder to ignore. He wasn’t just cute; he was the kind of guy who listened, who noticed little things, who made you feel at ease even when you were overthinking everything.

But every time you thought about it – about what it might mean – you hit a wall.

Your brother’s voice played in your head whenever you thought about crossing that invisible line. What would he think if he knew? Worse, what if it messed things up in the group? You didn’t want to be the reason Seungmin hesitated during practice or avoided Lee Know’s eye.

And Seungmin? Well, he had his own internal battle.

The teasing texts and playful banter were easy – familiar ground that didn’t require him to confront how he was starting to feel about you. But when you sent him a photo of the ramen you’d finally tried, captioned with "Guess you missed out", he stared at his screen longer than he should have.

It wasn’t the photo or the food. It was your smile, that small, effortless curve of your lips that had been stuck in his mind since the day you showed up at the dorm.

"Get it together, Seungmin," he muttered under his breath.

Lee Know was his friend, his brother in everything but blood. And falling for you wasn’t just breaking an unspoken rule; it felt like betraying that bond.

One night, after a long day of rehearsals, Seungmin found himself scrolling through your chat history. His finger hovered over the keyboard, debating whether or not to reply to your latest message. You’d sent him a photo of one of your cats – curled up in a pile of freshly folded laundry.

He smiled despite the unease feelings, typing back before he could second-guess it:

“Looks like you’re more of a cat person too. Must run in the family.” You replied instantly “I love my cats, but I don’t mind dogs either. Don’t tell Lee Know though – he’d probably disown me for even saying that.” and the conversation spiraled into a late-night exchange about pets, chaotic siblings, and everything in between. It was easy. Too easy.

And then you said something that made his heart stop.

“I always feel like I can tell you anything. Weird, right?”

He stared at the words, feeling a tug in his chest that he couldn’t ignore anymore. He wanted to feel proud of that – of being someone you trusted. But all he could think about was how wrong it felt to be the person catching feelings for you.

He set his phone down, rubbing a hand over his face. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You’d noticed the shift in his texts lately – the hesitation, the shorter replies. You felt a pang of guilt. Maybe he was pulling back, realizing that this… whatever it was between you… shouldn’t be happening.

And you couldn’t blame him. You’d thought about pulling back yourself.

But instead, late one evening, you found yourself typing out a message you weren’t sure you’d send.

You: “I feel like we’ve both been avoiding something. And I get it – I do. But… I can’t keep pretending I don’t care about you. And I don’t want to mess things up for you or my brother, so if this needs to stop, just tell me, okay?”

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity before pressing send.

Seungmin: “I care about you too. Probably more than I should. But I don’t want this to hurt anyone – least of all you.”

The relief of his words hit you immediately, but so did the weight of his hesitation.

You: “So what do we do?”

Seungmin hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before he finally typed:

Seungmin: “We take it slow. We’re honest – with each other, with Lee Know, when the time’s right. And if this starts feeling wrong, we stop. No questions asked.”

-----

Seungmin sat in the practice room long after everyone else had left. He fiddled with his phone, the screen dark, but his thoughts racing. He had made a decision, one he couldn’t back out of now.

He unlocked his phone, scrolling to your name in his messages.

Seungmin: “I’m going to talk to him.”

The three dots indicating your reply appeared almost instantly.

You: “Are you crazy?”

Seungmin could almost hear your voice in the text – half incredulous, half offended.

You: “I mean, I get it. He deserves to know, and I respect that. But seriously… you’re telling him this?”

Seungmin: “I don’t want to go behind his back. It’s not just about this – it’s about the group, too. This has to be on the table.”

You: “Fine. But don’t expect me to save you if he kills you.”

He smiled faintly at the reply but couldn’t shake the nerves coiled in his chest.

When Lee Know walked into the practice room, his phone still in his hands, he paused, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?”

Seungmin stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Waiting for you.”

Lee Know gave him a wary glance, closing the door behind him. “What’s this about?”

“Hyung,” Seungmin started, his tone unusually serious, “can we talk for a minute? Like, for real?”

Lee Know’s expression shifted slightly at the earnestness in Seungmin’s voice. “Okay… What’s up?”

Seungmin sat back down on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s about your sister.”

Lee Know’s posture straightened immediately, his eyes narrowing. “What about her?”

Seungmin hesitated for a moment before forcing himself to meet Lee Know’s gaze. “Since she dropped off your bag… we’ve been talking. Just texting, mostly. Nothing serious has happened, and I swear it hasn’t crossed any lines. But… I like her.”

The room went uncomfortably quiet. Lee Know blinked slowly, his face unreadable.

“You like her?” he repeated, his tone flat.

Seungmin nodded. “Yeah. And I wanted to tell you before anything else happened because…” He exhaled, his voice softening. “Because I respect you, hyung. You’re like a brother to me, and I don’t want to screw that up by hiding something like this from you.”

Lee Know stared at him for a long moment, his expression somewhere between disbelief and scrutiny.

Finally, he sighed, crossing his arms. “I don’t even know where to start. First of all, you? Of all people?”

Seungmin let out a dry laugh. “What, am I not good enough?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lee Know shot back, rolling his eyes. “It’s just… unexpected.”

“Trust me, it’s unexpected for me too,” Seungmin admitted.

Lee Know rubbed his temples. “You’re not messing around, are you? This isn’t some prank or… I don’t know, something stupid?”

“It’s not a joke,” Seungmin said firmly. “I mean it. And honestly…” He hesitated, then added, “Maybe it won’t even go anywhere. I don’t know. It’s early, and nothing has really happened yet. But I’d rather be upfront about it than hide it.”

Lee Know studied him for another long moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “Look, I’m not thrilled about this. She’s my sister, Seungmin. And you’re…” He gestured vaguely. “You’re you.”

Lee Know leaned forward, his voice dropping as he let out a soft groan. “But I get it. She’s great. And I can't exactly tell her who to see.”

Seungmin’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, relief flickering across his face.

“That said,” Lee Know continued, his tone sharpening again, “if you screw this up – even a little – I will make your life miserable. And I don’t mean in a fun, teasing way. Got it?”

Seungmin nodded seriously. “Understood.”

Lee Know leaned back, shaking his head. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t,” Seungmin said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Good. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Seungmin stood up. “Thanks, hyung.”

As Seungmin left the practice room, Lee Know called after him, “And don’t expect me to go easy on you during dance practice!”

-----

Later that night, Seungmin texted you.

Seungmin: “Mission accomplished. I’m alive, and your brother didn’t kill me.”

You: “I’m surprised. I half-expected him to throw you out a window.”

Seungmin: “He might have, but I reminded him how irreplaceable I am. Also, he threatened me, so we’re all good now.”

You laughed at the text, shaking your head.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Lee Know.

Lee Know: “Seriously? The dog? I’m telling Songie, Dongie, and Dori that you don’t love them anymore.”

masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: 😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You hear your father in the garage. It’s a comfort knowing he isn’t in the house. You’ve learned to navigate so that you rarely run into him. The fact of your existence only ever seems to irk him. 

That day, there’s a low rumble between the clank and clunk of his tools. You’re not sure it’s the engine or something else. The last time you glimpsed inside the garage, the engine wasn’t even in that old Bronco he’s worked on for seven years. 

You rub smooth the lines in your forehead and give a long blink. You’ve been squinting at the diamond art for much too long. You sit up and roll your shoulders. You need a break. 

As you emerge from your room, you feel guilty. A break from what? Doing nothing. That’s what your dad always says. Then he laughs and finds something to throw at you. 

You take his lunch box from the floor by the shoe mat and bring it to the kitchen. You open it up and clean out all the containers. Those things you do, as small as they are, like cleaning and making his meals, aren’t enough. He doesn’t fail to remind you of that. 

You dump the uneaten crust from his ham and cheese sandwich as the door from the garage clatters open and lets in the smell of oil and dirt. You turn your attention to the sink as you put the container with the rest. It’s only as you flip the faucet on that you realise the steps aren’t your dad’s. 

“Scuse me,” Sy says. “Don’t mean to bother, but, uh, had a bit of an accident.” 

You face him as he holds out the front of his tee shirt. You gulp. There’s a smear of shiny oil across it, ready to drip onto the floor. Your eyes round. 

“I can clean it in the bathroom, I see you’re busy.” 

He goes to turn away and you put your hands up. The oil won’t come out if he just wipes it into the shirt. You would know since you deal with your dad’s stained jeans.  

He nears as you sidle down to grab the baking soda from the cupboard. He looms, his shadow moving in your peripheral, and you shift the faucet to off. You grab a paper towel and turn to him. You hesitate to reach for him, that seems too much but before you can make a move, he peels his shirt off. 

You flutter your lashes and point to the counter. He lays the shirt out and you open the box of baking soda. He stands back and watches. Heat trickles down your back as you focus on the task. You sprinkle the powder over his shirt. 

You let it soak up as much as it can then blot daintily. 

“You’re clever,” he muses. “Helpful.” 

You shrug. 

“How lucky’s that daddy of yours, huh? You out here cleaning all his mess. You make his lunch?” He peeks over at the sink and you follow his gaze. You nod. “Hm, think he’d be nicer then, wouldn’t ya? Well, I know him, he ain’t a nice fella.” 

You return your attention to his shirt. If your daddy isn’t so nice, why does he come around? You wouldn’t ask even if you could. You can barely concentrate with him exposed like that. 

Your eyes dart over in a fleeting peek. His chest is hair and his stomach thick, his arms too. You’re always aware of how big he is but at that moment, he seems even larger. You look at his shirt. It’ll need more time to soak and wash. 

“Could wash it with the hose, don’t wanna ruin your machine,” he offers as if reading your mind. 

You frown and shake your head. You hold up your finger and flit away with his shirt. You put stain remover on it and dump it in the machine. You set the cycle then hesitate. What will he wear now? 

Your dad isn’t as big. He’s a pretty small guy. He might have something... 

You hurry into the closet of old things and search around. There’s one of those tees he got from a case of Labatts. They always pack the XLs and nothing else. It has some sports team logo on it. 

You go back to the kitchen and offer it to Sy. He crosses to you and accepts it with a smile, “thanks, sugar. That’s mighty nice.” His fingertips brush yours.  

He unfolds the shirt and shakes it out. He pulls it over his head and your eyes crawl down his torso unintentionally. You back up a step as he tugs down the hem, though it hangs short of his belt. Even that is too small for him. 

“You’re not scared of me, are ya?” He asks as he curls his shoulders as if to make himself smaller. 

You shake your head. Shy is all. You’re not eager to mingle with anyone. Nor they, you. 

“You know, I might have a word with your daddy. He shouldn’t be so nasty to ya. ‘Specially all the work you put in.” 

You shake your head frantically and clasp your hands. You know better than that. Even if he’s trying to be nice, it’s the worst thing he can do. 

“What’s wrong? Huh? Just wanna tell him what a good girl ya are,” he crosses his arms and seems to double in size. 

You pout and press your hands together. You cower and takes another step back. His expression turns dire. 

“Sorry, sugar, hope I didn’t upset ya there. I was only... only bein’ nice, ya know? Seems you’re not used to all that.” He drops his hands to his hips. “Fine then, I’ll just have to save them sweet words for you, huh?” 

You look down and chew your lip. You’re not used to the attention. Your dad’s other friends, if you can call them that, just ignore you or laugh at his jokes about you. You nod and turn, gesturing to the sink. You walk up to it, clinging to the excuse to get away. 

“Yeah, I know, you workin’ hard,” he praises. “I’ll be outta ya way now.” 

You bob your head and turn the tap on again. You work at scrubbing the containers, waiting and listening for him to go. When he does, you can breathe again. You’re not so sure why he’s being nice. Not like you can do much but stare. 

💘

When your dad’s at work, you’re as close to peace as you’ve ever been. There’s still that constant restlessness that follows you. The gnawing reality that time is passing you by. That you have no purpose. No direction. 

You envy others. That they have a reason. That they have everything you don’t. They have other people, ones that care, not those burdened with them; they have important work to do; they have fun things to celebrate; graduations, new jobs, marriages. They have voices and you remain unheard. 

You busy yourself with the tidying when he isn’t there. If you try to clean with him around, he only antagonizes you. There’s a roast out for dinner. It will last a few days. Most times, you lose your appetite. You spend all day craving and making the food then lose all desire the moment it’s before you. 

The small pleasures you once treasured fade with each day that starts and ends the same. You can’t feel too bad for yourself. Your dad doesn’t have to keep you. You’re an adult now. Maybe he’ll never say so, or even show it, but he must care, right? 

You finish mopping and start on chopping up the potatoes. You arrange them in the roasting pan around the slab of beef. Then carrots and celery. You save the onions for last because they make you cry. You’re saved from tears by the rumble of thunder on the horizon. 

Curiously, you set the knife down and go to the window. Would your dad be home early? Some days, they shut down the shop when business is slow. 

It’s not him but you recognise the grating on the truck’s nose. The large truck sends up dirt and gravel as it cuts across the worn roadway. Your confusion floods to panic and you rush out the front door.

Is your father hurt? Why else would Sy be here? 

You hover on the top step as he grinds to a stop and shuts the behemoth truck off. The driver’s door creaks as it opens and Sy jumps down. Instead of his usual camo cargo shorts and sweat-dampened tee, he wears a button-up with short sleeves and a pair of brown slacks. It even looks like he combed his beard. 

Your face twists in a grimace. What’s going on? Why is he here? 

He reaches back into the truck and brings out something behind his back. You can’t see it as he keeps his arm bent behind him and shuts the door. He grins and walks up to the house as you watch. 

“How’s it goin’?” He asks brightly. 

You blink. You look at his collar, the top button straining against his thick neck. You lower your gaze to your loose blue tee and barrel jeans. You’re dressed like a laundry line. Your clothes offer no shape, nothing. They just do the job. 

“I, uh, I wanted to surprise ya, and uh, I was thinkin’ ya know, this place deserves a bit of colour,” he chuckles then clears his throat, “and you deserve good things, so, uh, here.” 

He reveals the flowers from behind his back and you blanch. You stare at the dainty petals, white with violet edges. They are pretty. Too pretty for this place or for you. Besides, why would he do that? 

“You don’t like em? Should I have got roses?” He asks. 

You flinch. You don’t want to hurt his feelings. You come down the steps and cautiously reach for the paper cone. He hands it over and you stare at him. Then you smell them. You think that’s what you’re supposed to do. 

“Smell good?” He asks. 

You peer over the petals at him and nod. You’re not sure how to react. What do you do now? You can’t just leave him out in the yard. You raise your thumb and point it over your shoulder and tilt your head. 

“Sure, I’ll come in,” he accepts. 

He steps forward, a bit too close, and you hop backward up the step. You barely keep from tripping. You get onto the porch and spin around, scurrying to the door. You open the door and step to the side to hold it for him. 

He laughs again, “now, I’m a gentleman, sugar.” 

He grabs the door and gestures you through. You take his directive without pause. You hurry inside and he follows. As he stops to take off his shoes, you continue on into the kitchen. 

You search for an adequate holder for the flowers. You find an old canister and set them in it with some water. His presence lurks behind you. You put the bouquet on the table as he looks around. 

“You cookin’ a fine dinner, huh?” He says. “Like I tell your daddy, he’s a lucky man. Any man’d be lucky to have that waitin’.” 

You shrug. He shifts. 

“I don’t mean to take advantage of your kindness but I was gonna ask ya a favour.” 

You look at him blankly. He reaches in his pocket. He pulls a length of silk. A tie. 

“Couldn’t figure this out,” he explains. “Thought maybe you might...” 

You stare at the tie. You remember tying your daddy’s for your grandma’s funeral. That was a long time ago but you think you could remember. 

You swallow down your nerves and approach him. You take the tie and he glances around. He pushes a chair out and sits. He leans his head back. 

“Just wanna make sure I look good for ya,” he says. 

You flip up his collar and bring the silk around his neck. As you do, your thumb brushes his coarse beard. He hums. 

“Don’t worry bout pullin’ my hair,” he scoffs. “Won’t bother me none.” 

You line up his tie, knuckles brushing his shirt as you go through the steps in your hand. You pull the tie snug and fix hit collar. You step back and he sets his head straight. You hug yourself and give him a questioning look. 

“Ya like your surprise?” He asks. 

You look at the flower then nod. 

“And what about the other?” 

You face him again and your brows draw together. 

“Me,” he snorts. 

You purse your lips and shrug. What does he mean? 

“We’ll wait for your daddy, huh? Then I’ll ask his blessing.” He rests his elbow on the table, “and you’ll have dinner all ready, won’t ya?” 

[earthlyangelbby]

More than cookies

Summary: Teaching your crush Eddie to bake cookies turns into something sweeter than anticipated. Could this be the start of something more?

Cw: Fluffy fluff flufferson just a little kissing

2.5k Words

Every week, you bring chocolate chip cookies to the group hangout—a tradition since you started tagging along with Robin about a year ago. Whether it’s a movie night, board games, D&D, or some seasonal get-together, the hangouts usually take place at Eddie’s apartment. Without roommates, his place is the perfect hosting spot.

From the very first evening, you felt welcomed. Meeting Eddie, Nancy, Steve, and Gareth was intimidating at first, but thanks to Robin, they already knew a lot about you. That left you free to mostly observe and get to know them. Eddie’s apartment, especially his cozy living room, quickly became a comfort. With a big couch, a loveseat, beanbag chairs, and plenty of pillows and blankets for movie nights, it was hard not to feel at ease.

You started noticing Eddie more after the first horror movie night. He sat next to you on the couch, and as the scares made you jump and squeal, he instinctively leaned in to check on you. “All good, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

You whispered back with a shy smile, “I’m having fun, just jumpy.”

He smiled and nodded, and from then on, he made a habit of chuckling at your reactions. When you’d jump particularly hard, he’d lean over with a playful grin and say, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” nudging your shoulder or giving your knee a reassuring squeeze.

Game nights brought more of Eddie’s playful side. He’d jokingly target you, tracking your moves in Monopoly and teasing you about your strategy. “Oh, come on, you love my strategy,” he’d say, nudging your game piece with his. Every casual brush of his arm against yours, every moment he leaned in close, sent your heart racing in ways you couldn’t ignore.

You started arriving early to hangouts, initially because of your type-A personality, but lately, it was just an excuse to get a few moments alone with Eddie. You’d always found him attractive—his big smile, warm brown eyes, and even the way he ate cookies made your heart flutter. To call it a crush would be an understatement.

The way he looked at you and his comments about your cookies had started to feel less polite and more teasing. Every week, Eddie would eat your cookies with a grin that melted you, and every week, he’d say something that left your cheeks burning:

• "If this is what you bring every week, I’m counting the days to the next hangout."

• "Keep this up, and I’ll have to make you my official cookie supplier."

• "I should start bringing my own container to take some home."

• "Sweetheart, I might have to marry you. I can’t live without these."

• "The way you make these cookies makes me curious about what else you’re great at."

Most of his comments were playful, but “what else you’re great at” stuck in your head. What did he mean by that? Whatever it was, you wanted to know. So, you gathered your nerves and invited him to your house—to bake, of course.

 

Eddie made time to come over and learn, which shouldn’t have been a big deal—but it made you nervous. He was about to see your home, a cozy little townhouse you’d inherited from your grandma. Everything was perfectly neat, mostly because you couldn’t bring yourself to change her charming, floral-inspired decor.

You took a deep breath as you prepped the kitchen, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through you. It was just going to be the two of you, and as the clock ticked closer to his arrival, your mind replayed every flirty exchange. The way Eddie smiled at you, that boyish grin lighting up his face as he savored your cookies, always made your cheeks flush.

He had a way of making you feel like a giddy teenager, especially with all the little moments during hangouts—his teasing during games, the lingering looks during movies, and the way he always gravitated toward you when you arrived early. Eddie was curious about you in a way that felt genuine, asking about your week and slipping in subtle, almost shy questions about whether you were seeing anyone.

Then there were the casual touches: a light brush of his arm, a nudge during a game, or his hand grazing yours while passing something. Normally, those things would have made you uncomfortable, but when it was Eddie, they left your skin buzzing and your stomach full of butterflies.

Eddie was in his van, fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel as soft music played in the background. His mind raced as he stared at the road ahead. Okay, Munson, don’t screw this up. She’s a friend—a really good friend. Everyone likes her. Robin says she’s into you. And yeah, she laughs at all your dumb jokes, but… what if this is just about cookies?

He sighed, gripping the wheel tighter. God, she’s so much more than that. Sweet and funny, always bringing those cookies every week. And the way she looks when she smiles… like she doesn’t even know how beautiful she is. How does someone as good as her actually exist? She’s smart, kind, and somehow looks as good as she is. That’s rare. Like lightning-strike rare.

His heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the thought of her. And that laugh... it’s like the best sound in the world. She always laughs when I flirt with her. That’s a good sign, right? Robin said it was. Robin wouldn’t lie about that. Would she?

Eddie’s van pulled into the driveway, and he stared at the little house in front of him. It was sweet and inviting, with blue trim and curtains that reminded him of something out of a storybook. Of course, her house would look like this. Cute, warm, and perfect—just like her.

He flipped down the visor and glanced at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, Munson. Be cool. Be cool. Don’t say anything stupid. Just... bake some cookies and don’t blow it.”

Grabbing the milk and the bowl he’d brought along, Eddie stepped out of the van, straightened his jacket, and made his way to the front door. As he walked up the little path, he couldn’t help but smile. Cookies or not, I’m about to spend the afternoon with the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. That’s enough.

He reached the door, took a deep breath, and knocked, feeling his heart pound in anticipation.

Finally, you heard a knock at the door. You smoothed down your apron, fixed your hair, took a moment to compose yourself, and swung the door open with a bright smile. There he was, looking even cuter than usual, holding a bowl in one hand and a half gallon of milk in the other.

“Ready to make me a cookie making master?” he said, his eyes sparkling.

You laughed nervously, “Cookie master? More like a cookie apprentice!”

He stepped inside and looked around. “Wow, this place is.. cute lots more flowers than I imagined.”

“How often are you imagining my house?” you teased, motioning for him to take a seat at the counter. 

“Just on the whole drive over here,” Eddie laughed.

You pulled out the recipe, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than the butterflies in your stomach. “Alright, let’s get started. First, you’ll want to cream the butter and sugars together.”

As you began to demonstrate, you caught him watching you intently. Both his smile and the way he leaned closer made it hard to concentrate. “See? Just like this,” you said, your cheeks warming as he leaned in even more.

“Can I try?” he asked, and you nodded, passing him the wooden spoon. He took over mixing, but not without stealing glances at you. You tried to make your hands look busy, but gave up and stood with your hands behind your back.

“So, what else do you like to make when you’re not saving my sweet tooth?” Eddie asked, looking over at you with genuine curiosity.

“I, um… I enjoy trying new recipes. It’s sort of my thing.” You tried to sound cool, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight.

“Yeah?” He paused, looking serious for a moment. “What do you do when you’re not busy being an amazing cookie supplier?”

“Mostly school,” you replied softly, heart pounding. “And daydream about cute guys who eat my cookies.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, and for a moment, you panicked, realizing what you had just let slip. But a playful smirk appeared on his lips. “Oh really? I’d love to hear more about this ‘cute guy’ you’re daydreaming about.”

You could practically feel the blush creeping up your neck. “Well, he’s sweet, funny, and loves cookies just as much as I do.”

“Lucky guy,” he said, his voice dropping a bit, making your heart race. “I bet he treats you well, huh?”

Before you could respond, you set out the chocolate chips. “Okay, now for the fun part! Let’s add these in.” 

He watched as you poured the chocolate chips into the bowl and then placed a few pieces right next to you on the counter. “I think you need to taste test those,” he said with a wink.

You picked one up and popped it into your mouth, then offered another to him with a grin. “Here, you try! They are the secret to making the cookies perfect.” 

He hesitated for a moment and then took the piece from your fingers, his gaze lingering on yours as he chewed. “Mm so sweet, just like you,” he said.

Your heart skipped a beat, and the kitchen suddenly felt a little smaller. You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the moment hang between you like a sweet, unspoken confession. “Okay, let’s get back to business!” you said quickly, trying to sidestep the heat in your cheeks.

As you prepared to mix the flour and baking soda, you grinned and said, “But wait, there’s a secret ingredient that takes these cookies to the next level!” You reached for a dark chocolate bar and began chopping it into small pieces.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? More chocolate?”

You nodded, excitement bubbling up. “Yep! Chopped dark chocolate adds a rich depth and makes them extra special. Just wait until you taste them!”

“Nice! I’m all in for extra chocolate,” he said, looking at you with that charming smile again. The way he leaned over the counter to watch you closely made your heart race even more.

As you folded the chopped chocolate into the batter, Eddie's eyes never left you, and the air felt thick as you both worked side by side. You stirred the mixture, stealing glances at him as he concentrated on the process, a slight frown of focus on his lips that made him even more endearing. 

You handed Eddie a spoon and set the baking sheet in front of him. "Alright, cookie apprentice, now we scoop," you said with a grin.

He raised an eyebrow. “This is the big moment, huh? All my training has led to this.”

“Exactly,” you teased. “No pressure, but these scoops determine the success of the entire batch.”

Eddie scooped a dollop of dough onto the sheet and tilted his head. “How’s that for a first try?”

You leaned closer to inspect it, your shoulder brushing his. “Hmm, a little uneven, but not bad. Let me show you the pro technique.”

Grabbing your own spoon, you showed the perfect scoop. “See? Smooth edges, uniform size. It’s an art, really.”

He smirked, nudging your shoulder lightly. “So you’re saying I should leave the scooping to you?”

“Not at all!” you shot back, laughing. “You just need practice. Go ahead—try again.”

As he worked on his second scoop, Eddie suddenly dipped his spoon back into the dough and held it out toward you. “Taste test?”

You rolled your eyes but leaned in, taking a small bite off the spoon. “Okay, fine. It’s perfect,” you admitted, licking a bit of dough off your lip.

Eddie’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, a playful glint in his eye. “Told you I’d make a great apprentice,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.

Soon, the baking sheet was full, and you slid it into the preheated oven. “Alright, 12 minutes until cookie perfection,” you announced, brushing your hands together.

Eddie leaned back against the counter, watching you with that familiar lazy grin. “So what do we do while we wait? Dance? Play 20 Questions? Or just stare at each other awkwardly?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m voting for not staring awkwardly. How about we clean up a bit?”

As the two of you moved around the kitchen, wiping down counters and washing bowls, the energy between you shifted. The usual teasing felt softer, more intentional. Every brush of his hand against yours, every glance he stole—it all felt charged.

Finally, as you were drying your hands, Eddie stepped closer, his expression unusually serious. “You know,” he began, his voice low, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. “For what? Cookies?” you teased nervously.

He shook his head, his lips twitching into a small smile. “No, not cookies. This. Just... being alone with you. I’ve been waiting forever to spend real time with a really pretty girl like you.”

Your breath caught at his words, your cheeks heating. “You really mean that?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, his gaze steady. “I don’t think I’ve made it a secret how much I like you. But this—being here, just us—is different. Better.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and before you could overthink it, you said, “I’m glad you’re here, Eddie. I’ve been wanting this too.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then Eddie leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I... can I kiss you?”

Your heart raced, but you nodded, a shy smile spreading across your face. “Yes.”

Eddie's eyes dart from your lips to your eyes then back to your lips and he leans in, his lips brushing yours softly at first, leaving three short burst kisses on your lips. As if he was making sure this was real. He looked at you almost as if he wanted reassurance. You smiled up at him and leaned in. As your lips meld together again, you feel the soft brush of his tongue seeking entry, gently dancing against yours. The sweetness of the chocolate bursts forth as you taste it, mingling with the warmth of his breath. His tongue explores with a mix of urgency and tenderness, igniting a thrilling sensation that sends jolts of electricity through you. The way he tugs you closer only heightens the moment, making each flick and caress feel uniquely intimate. 

The comforting scent of his leather jacket envelops you, grounding you in the heat of the moment. As your tongues intertwine, it creates a beautiful rhythm, an unspoken connection that deepens with every kiss, leaving you breathless and craving more.

Just then, the oven timer dinged, breaking the moment. You both laughed, the sound cutting through the tension like a breath of fresh air.

“Perfect timing,” Eddie said, stepping back but keeping his hand on your waist.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were grinning like teenagers. “You’re really good at that,” you murmured, unable to stop smiling.

Eddie chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “So are you, sweetheart.” You placed your oven mitts on. “Let’s see if these cookies live up to the kiss.” Eddie looked at the tray with a big smile.

“They’d better,” you teased, opening the oven and pulling out the tray. The cookies were golden brown, the chocolate chips melted just enough to glisten.

Eddie grabbed a spatula and carefully transferred a cookie to a plate. “Taste test round two?” he asked, breaking off a piece and holding it out to you.

You took a bite, savoring the gooey chocolate and buttery dough. “Okay, these are pretty amazing,” you admitted.

Eddie took a bite of his own, nodding in agreement. “Not bad for an apprentice, huh?”

“Not bad at all, cookie master,” your smile soft as you met his gaze.

Eddie leaned on the counter. "You know, I’m not even mad if I never get a cookie again, as long as I get to keep kissing you.” 

Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you thought! :^)

[smallestapplin]

Hellooo! Good evening or um good morning so yea I was watching G1 transformers and canonically mirage is like loaded like he's from the upper class. So I um immediately thought that he's sugar daddy material. Like man only picks the finest/expensive cars even from G1. So I'm asking for like um sugar daddy mirage with a human female reader and since he doesn't know how to woo her, he practically buys her attention and time. Like he enjoys watching her spend his money. Casually suggesting that a top that he sees while she's scrolling on her phone and says that it would fit her and that she should buy it. Coincidentally, the color of the top matches his paint. Omg I've made this long huhu now I feel shy. 😿😿

Wait this is actually so cute and funny, I love it. I hope I did this right for you!💖

-

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Mirage isn’t use to human ways of living and courtship, but he tries so hard to be friendly and welcoming, he wants you to know he’s safe to go to for anything! But falling for you wasn’t on that list, you’re such a tiny thing compared to him, he’s worried he’ll hurt you.

But how could he not? You’re so funny, so kind, always helping him learn more about your culture and Earth in general, even if that means he won’t ever live down calling a trees ‘organic speed stoppers’, but your laughter made it all the more worth it to embarass himself.

Mirage isn’t sure how to court you the human way, so why not his way? It’s not like he can ask anyone either, lest the tell you or make fun of him for falling for a human.

He shows off, racing Sunstreaker and Sideswipe often, doing dangerous stunts, taking sharp turns, making sure he’s flashy enough for you in his alt mode. He lives for your cheers, lives on your priase. The twins know what he’s doing, it’s what ever racer does to gain the affection of someone.

Yet you don’t pick up on that, you gush over him sure, telling him how cool that was! How cool he is! But it doesn’t seem to click, not that Mirage can fault for you that, you’ve never had anyone court you like that.

So, why not gifts? Gifts are a universal love language that can’t go wrong!

“Mirage, you really didn’t have to get me anything, being with you is more than enough.”

How you have him wrapped around your tiny organic digit, making him swoon and spark pulse.

“It’s no problem, really! I wanna show you how much I care about you, so it wasn’t difficult to find a way to buy things for ya!”

He’s too kind, even bought everything himself after hacking (very easily) into your phone and used his own funds to spoil you. Until he got a com from you the day all the packages arrived.

“How many things did you buy me!?”

“Eh, it wasn’t costly so I don’t really remember.”

“Wasn’t costly? Mirage, this must’ve cost my life’s savings!”

You thank him over and over and over again, but he doesn’t mind, always smiling at you and simply asking if you liked what he bought you. It makes your cheeks burn when he does that, asking so sweetly, honestly you might think he’d have an ulterior motive.

The skirts, the dresses, the tops all ranging fm cozy to cute to flirty, pants much the same, he’s even bought you expensive consoles, games, and even things you complained about needing to replace or needing in general.

Each time you cry he doesn’t need to buy you anything, yet the large bot just looks at you with hearts in his optics telling you it’s fine.

Soon nearly sixty percent of your outfits are all things he’s bought you, like a silent claim over you, you can’t move in your home without being reminded of him.

But then that top came in, the one he had been waiting for, and once it did he didn’t bother trying to hide his want to see it. He sits in your drive way in his alt mode, awaiting to see how you look, and by the all spark he’s nt disapppointed.

“Does it look okay?”

You aren’t exactly a big fan of crop tops, but the high waisted jeans you are wearing cover you enough to feel comfortable. The crop top itself is loose and flowy, honestly you could see yourself wearing it around more in the house.

It’s mainly blue with tie dyed black, white, and red, matching his colors perfectly.

You look stunning.

You jump a little, hearing his engines rev loudly. You laugh softly at the display.

“I take it you like it?”

“Remind me to get you a sporty top in those colors.” He sounds near breathless.

“My, Mirage, if i didn’t know any better I’d say you just want us to match.” You tease, laughing at how his engine outright purrs at your words.

Oh, if only you knew how right you were.

Matching, like a couple, like the couple he desperately wants you two to be, loudly claiming you as his.

[thatfrailsoul]

– The journey of a soul

new year tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

pictures from pinterest → one, two, three

Sometimes we crave that something… We feel the need to create, to speak, to make our steps in a certain way. With more intention, more meaning, more magic in it. Something that can give to all of this, to every single little detail and moment in our routines, more significance. And by doing so, give our own selves more motivation, strength, courage and energy to keep on going. Feeling that it is not at all useless. Feeling that there is something more in this life than just the material, at times repetitive or stagnant world. But even when we have so much desire for it… It is still not so easy to understand which is that one way to do things that can really help us see and feel again this world from the perspective of our soul, and not our consumed and tired thoughts. What we can do to connect, nourish and embrace ourselves. Through the expression of our soul.

This is our very first reading for this new year, requested by one of you to whom I’m so grateful for this idea and chance to tap for a moment in the more spiritual aspect of our life. No matter if you already have someone or something that you believe in, accepting their guidance in your life; if you always felt connected so deeply only to your own self; if you never felt this desire to look at life differently until this point… You are welcomed here, and there will be the right message for you. As no matter if we look at it from the spiritual and religious perspective, or more logical and psychological one, there is still something that can help you express, nourish and celebrate yourself more. Something that can help you find more peace within this year, transforming it into the strength to go through this life and the easy or challenging moments it sometimes gifts.

So slow down. Breathe. Allow yourself to let go for a moment of judgment, analysis or control. And just follow that one pile that attracts your gaze more. The one that is hiding the message from your soul.

P.s. A little question for you.♡

As I’m trying to improve the experience of the extended versions of our readings, it would be deeply helpful for me to know your opinion about their format! For example, when and if you’ll ever buy an extended version of a reading, what would be more comfortable for you to find in them? Just the additional message? Or it might be helpful to have the original one included too, so you have everything in one place in case you want to read again the whole reading, or check more than one pile?

{ Thank you so much for letting me know!♡ }

– Pile One,

the coffin: the king of wands and the temperance

This past year… There were so many things that you were forced to say goodbye to. People, connections, ideas and opportunities, journeys and goals… So many things didn't work, for one reason or another. So many of them needed a different approach, much more than you expected or could do. So many of them seemed to not want you at all, pushing you back no matter how many times you tried to make them work.

But even if it was frustrating and scary, you adapted to all the failures and changes. You tried to remain on the surface in any way you could, looking for something else, accepting whatever alternative seemed good enough for you. And even though you did your best, you managed to make things work either way, accepting them and being grateful even though they are not exactly like you wanted or imagined… It still remains a reality that is not quite yours. Just the one you surrendered to and embraced in the absence of other things that you truly wanted to live and achieve. And in the long run… It is tiring you. To need to keep up with a life that you don't feel truly fitting for yourself, your desires or goals. Because no matter how many positive aspects you can find in them, no matter how strong and capable you are, to make use of them and endure them... It still remains a heavy phase of life, the one that you are going through.

If we’d to ask ourselves what are the things in our life that we don't want or don't feel quite right… We would think almost immediately and only about the big ones. Work, home, studies, relationships that we can’t really control… But there is much more between these big and main goals or concerns that consume all of our focus. There are those little actions and decisions that we do each day, in our routine that we are not really even aware of anymore, allowing it to guide us blindly through one day and the one after that. And there are a lot of aspects of them that we let pass by, without looking at what they are made of. And how many things of those are really aligned with who we want to be or how we want to live this life.

It is normal that we can’t just stand up and change everything in our life, there are too many things that depend not only on us. But we don't need to change those in order to be able to feel safe and at peace, finally enjoying this life. We can and should do it in the little steps we take each day that we wake up.

So take a moment, sit down with yourself, grab a pen, a phone, your pc or whatever you feel more comfortable in using to organise your thoughts. And ask yourself, truly, who is that person that you feel to be in your mind and heart, in your inner world, and that each year you try so hard to bring into the real one. Look at them, describe them, so you can see yourself clearly. Not the version that was made by this reality, these circumstances that decided who and how you needed to be in order to survive and make it through. But the one that you are truly, without any if or but. Without any limit or consequence. Without any judgment or image to keep up with. See them, every detail about how they feel, towards others or just in their own skin. How they deal with obstacles or troubles. What helps them to unwind and relax. The things that they do and really feel satisfied after, proud of what they did no matter if it was a lot or little… And just keep them in mind. Make that version of you be your guide and idol, the one you look up to throughout this year. Each day of it. Because it is not just a dream or a delusion, your desire to be one day like that version that you have in your mind. It is actually your inner self that wants to be this way, and knows deep down that it is possible to feel so confident and safe. Because it's not that you are not like you want, and so is your life, while this is just a delusion that helps you sleep at night. It is still and always you, even if it is only in your dreams and goals for now. Both versions are you, just one needs some time and nourishment to grow up to be the other one.

Even if it might seem not so spiritual, to change your routine, to make room for the things that for so long you wanted to do but never had the time or space, or to just let yourself throw away the judgment and limits on what you do or how… It is still a spiritual, magical, practice. A practical way of taking care of yourself through the things that you can control, choose and decide. It is still a way of expressing and connecting to your own self. While simultaneously making little but significant changes in your life, allowing you to feel safe and comfortable not only within your mind or heart, but also in the things of the every day life.

And this, this can really make an incredible impact on the things that you can’t control too. Just because the wait will be more enjoyable, once you are staying in a place where not everything is frustrating and pressuring. Once you don't feel caught up between two things that give you only anxiety and unsatisfaction, but there is still something that is worth it, to go through these days one after another, while waiting for the big changes to begin.

This reality is hardly the one that you chose for yourself, but through little changes you can make it be more like what you want. So there is more of good and worthy, of safe and enjoyable, that keeps your attention better than the stagnant or bad ones, alleviating the pressure those have on your shoulders, on your heart and on your mind.

The spirituality is not only about practices, rituals, of following the guidance and “rules” of who and what you believe in… It is also and always taking care of yourself, in whatever way you need or can now. And in this year, in the one that once again you have so much hope for, the most needed and easiest for you way to nourish yourself is by making your current reality more safe and enjoyable for you, no matter if the other “big” things will change or stay the same. Because we can’t always control our journey, but we can change the way we go through it. And in your case, you can start doing it through the little things done for yourself, for that version of you that you want so much to manifest.

{ ♡ }

– Pile Two,

the cross: the lovers and the ten of swords

It is not the first time that this desire blooms within you. The one to be devoted to something close and true to your soul. To allow it to guide you, teach you. To allow it to protect you and take care of you as you go through these difficult days. It is not the first time you feel the pure and genuine desire to not feel so alone, so doomed, so lost. But to have someone or something to look after you, to light the right journey for you…

You already tried so many things. Opened up your mind and your heart to new ideas and beliefs. You held them close to your heart, let it in, right into your soul, and listened patiently, waiting for an answer, for a sign that this is something that is right and true for you, something that you can trust to guide you…

But although so many of them felt so exciting and interesting to learn about, there was always that one little detail that never fitted, never was quite right for you. Making it so difficult to stick with them, to truly dedicate your time and energy to them. To truly feel that faith that is needed in order to believe… The first moments of enthusiasm always faded. The new routines that seemed so easy to respect became more tedious and difficult to keep up with. The words that first resonated so strongly with your heart… Always sooner or later found their nemesis in your thoughts, in your fearful and anxious questions that never found answers that could satisfy them.

And you felt only more coldness around and within you. As this flame of connecting with your soul somehow, more significantly, in a more sacred way, didn't receive its nourishment. Becoming smaller with each day that you wanted to understand yourself and this world better, but were unable to crack the code…

But no matter how many things you tried, how much you learned about so many ways of creating through your soul or manifest your true self unapologetically into this world… It is still the very start for you. You are only at the beginning of this journey. As through your hard work you learned all the possible ways, methods, practices and ideas… But you never learned what, or who, is it that you want to connect to. You never took a moment to just look at your own self and what you hold within your body, mind and heart. There are many religions, many practices, many believes that could fit in your life, that could really help you. But it is difficult to find out which is the right one, when you don't really know the size you need, right?

Although it is admirable your openness and desire to learn and experiment… There is no need for you now to decide already who or what to follow. Because first you need to be able to listen to your own self, without any voice or interpretations of others in between. You need to focus on yourself, this year, on who you are, before trusting others and their truths. As they can so easily make you lose sight of who you are, when you don’t have what to hold to in the first place.

For now observe yourself. Your feelings, thoughts, perceptions and reactions when interacting with this world. Observe them also when you are all alone. When there is no one else apart your self… What do you feel, what do you desire or need, when facing all of it? Because you really do think that it is not needed, that there is noone that knows you best. But in this search for someone else that can translate the way your soul talks, someone who understands it… You didn’t notice how much you have changed. How much the motives and explanations of what you feel or think have changed, narrating a different story about who you are, and what your soul strives for now.

{ ♡ }

– Pile Three,

The child: the two of wands and the five of cups

So many plans, so many guidelines, so many routines… Always so many things to learn and to adapt to, so many limits needed for you so you wouldn't make mistakes… They really got you used to it. To have a clear vision of what you are going to do, or how, with all the needed steps to follow. They got you used so much to it, that you can’t help but do it regarding your own self, your own soul too. The way you express it, create with it… The things that you do to connect with it.

You can’t help but to rely on something or someone, just even the tiniest advice or guidance, before you do that one first step on the path that you are thinking to choose. But it doesn't really work with more intimate, less material things, doesn't it? It only kind of kills the enthusiasm and lightness in your heart by putting so many dos and don’ts into your mind.

There is nothing wrong in looking out for it… In looking around you, discovering different ideas and ways others do it. But it does become more heavy and strict when instead of being inspired and experimenting in your own way with it, you are trying to follow each someone's step, just to be sure to not be disrespectful, ignorant, or just weird.

Interests that help your mind to grow or hobbies that allow your heart to express itself and unwind… Routines that give you stability or practices that give you confidence… They all change so much, depending on who is doing them. For someone they are natural and easy. For others they are so difficult to stick with no matter how much one tries. And yet you still feel uneasy, you still believe that the reason you can’t find that one right thing, create that one safe space for yourself… Is you and the mistakes that, you are so sure of, you make.

And what if it is true anyway? What if you really do manage in doing only one thing and not the other? What if only one half of someone’s truth sits right with you? It is your life. Your soul. And it is obvious that it won’t be so easy to follow the example of someone else when trying to take care of it.

You tried so many things, explored so many different ideas and believes. And while you see yourself being able to welcome them in your life only partially as your incapability or inadequacy… You shouldn't ignore so confidently all those little things and details that still did resonate with you, even if each one of them comes from different cultures or practices. Your soul is the fusion of all your lives, your experiences, thoughts and feelings in each one of them. And the way it feels more safe to look at this world, and respect and nourish the one within you… Can indeed be a puzzle of all the different things that you learned or saw, but that fit so well together when you are that one connecting point.

Don’t busy yourself with finding, choosing and sticking to only one thing or way to take care of yourself, only one set of rules, only one school of thoughts. Because even though it might be the only one for someone, their whole life and armor, their story or personality, it doesn't necessarily need to be yours too. It can be strong, stable and beautiful enough even if it is made from different materials. A spirituality and magic that is all yours. The one that connects you to so many different parts of this world and to those that live or that used to, leaving to us their example and story to learn from.

Just go for your own way. Keep on remaining open, so enthusiastic and curious. Keep on learning and trying new and different ways, discovering how many things there truly are in this world that can be helpful and good for your body, mind or heart. Keep on enjoying them, or contrary, learning what are those things that are not quite aligned with you. And create as you go this beautiful and unique puzzle of wholeness and wellbeing, of a truth and guidance that is just yours, while still being connected to all.

{ ♡ }

[exocaliii]

❦︎ Is That What You Want? (It's You)

| Se-mi / Played 380 x fem!reader |

Summary: In the worst possible place, you reunite with someone you never thought you would see again. Fortunately for you, the looming threat of death unveils many long lost feelings you both tried (and failed) to let go.

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: mention of suicide, death, violence, hurt/comfort, occasional use of Y/N even tho I do try to avoid it, lots of YEARNING, kind of a childhood friends to lovers typa scenario, kissing (but it's only in like one paragraph at the very end sorry freaksters....)

A/N: SEMI FIC HERE TO MAKE UP FOR HER FUMBLE IN THE LAST ONE!!!! this one is also extremely plot heavy as u can see from the word count LOL but I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY!! tried to show her softer side in this as well as her playfulness! this is for the people asking for a se-mi fic in my inbox sorry I made the post before I could click "respond to ask" and now im afraid I might actually delete everything so... this is for u whoever u are <3 I didn't read it over this time y'all so praying for no typos... ENJOY

—

When Se-mi first spots you, you’re crouched down in front of a table and surrounded by four other women as you throw the gonggi pieces into the air. For a solid minute, she thinks her eyes are playing tricks on her - that or this person that bears a striking resemblance to her first real friend wasn’t you at all. However, when your team rapidly advances around the bloodied track, she’s allowed a closer look at you; your hair has grown longer and you’re just a bit taller than the last time she saw you, but your eyes are still the same and that’s what confirms it for her. 

She doesn’t cheer when you win - her throat feels strangely tight and her heart is heavy in her chest even with your victory - but she does feel an overwhelming sense of relief as she watches you bound past the finish line. Seeing you smile and laugh once again stirs something inside of her, an emotion she hasn’t felt for years. 

Before you completely disappear behind the doors of the field, she swears she sees you turn around and look directly at her, vague recognition clear on your face. 

—

“Hey, where are you running off to so fast?”

Laughter rings out behind you as you pick up your pace, clutching your bag tight to your chest. Multiple footsteps fall in behind you, and with a short glance over your shoulder at the agitated faces of the girls trailing you, you realize today might not just end with a bit of teasing. It’s New Year’s Eve though and the sun is mostly set, so maybe they won’t knock you out cold so you can make it home on time to welcome the new year with your family.

“C’mon, aren’t you gonna pay us back?” For what, you want to shout, but before you even get the chance to respond, the footsteps behind you suddenly speed up. You’re practically thrown to the ground with a single hard shove on your back, arms flailing as your bag scuttles across the concrete. “My dad said your family owes us some money, you know, and I don’t mind getting it from you.”

Your head is spinning and your nose feels oddly hot, but you hear her words loud and clear and they send a deep feeling of shame through your entire body. A hand tangles itself in your hair as your head is pulled back, causing yet another fit of laughter to ring throughout the alley. “Fuck, her nose is bleeding so much! Did you break it?”

The one holding you by the hair reassures her group that you’d be fine, they could just say you fell because currently, it was your word against five other students. A part of you begins to wonder if anyone would even come help if you screamed right then - the alley was right next to the school, someone was bound to hear you. 

As the other four begin to sift through your bag for any valuables, you find your mouth sealed shut, afraid that even a whimper of pain would turn the attention of this pack of wolves back towards you. You didn’t have much in your wallet these days, and what you did have was pocket change for emergencies. They would go home disappointed either way, but whatever kept you from getting beaten the worst would be preferred. 

“What the hell, she’s only got like 5000 won in here.” The tallest girl turns to you with both confusion and disdain evident on her face. “Are you really that fucking poor? Where’s the rest of it?”

She stands right back up and so does the other three, all slowly advancing on you as you were held down by the fifth. You don’t even struggle against her loose grip on your hair, slowly coming to accept the fact that you might just have to take a beating for today, because there is no ‘the rest of it.’ 

Perhaps, if you’re lucky, they’ll get bored fast at your lack of reaction to anything they do and you’ll only go home with a bloody nose and a couple easily hidden bruises. 

You can accept that fate, you can accept your place in this world. 

“What the hell’s going on here?” 

Everyone’s heads, even yours, turn towards the lone girl standing at the entrance of the alleyway. With the setting sun behind her, her face is mostly casted in shadows. You think you recognize her as one of the troublemakers in your math class, constantly getting sent outside to stand in the hallway and ‘think about what she’s done.’ Even after being in the same class for two years, you still haven’t quite learned anything about her beyond her antics. The reason for why she’s butting in though, is also lost on you.

“Mind your business, Se-mi.” So that’s her name. It fits her. “We’re just teaching this one a nice lesson in karma.” 

How ironic. Five girls beating on a younger classmate would definitely bring them amazing luck for the New Year.

Se-mi’s eyes trail down towards the ground, towards you, and her eyes take in your bloody nose and the deep-blue bruise already forming on your cheek. For a second, you think she might just leave you here like anyone else would, but after some obvious inner contemplation, she speaks up once again.

“She looks like she understands it just fine now,” she says mockingly, beginning to walk closer towards you all. Her eyes are sharp, leaving no room for argument, and you only wish you could be half as strong to stand up to these girls. “Maybe you guys should just head home.” It sounds less like a suggestion than it does a threat, and your attackers respond in kind. 

“What, you got a problem with us?” It’s obviously not a real question, but a chance for Se-mi to back out now before things get serious. She doesn’t.

“Yeah, I do, so what’re we gonna do about it?” 

Inwardly, you curse yourself for inadvertently placing this stranger at risk to get beat up right alongside you for a problem that definitely had nothing to do with her. 

For a second, the girls are silent, but you can practically feel their anger growing as the one on top of you lets go of your hair. Se-mi stands her ground, expression just as cold as always as they try (and fail) to intimidate her with their glares. You’re frozen in awe of this idiot for both her courage and her poor decision-making skills.

It’s no surprise to you when the tall one lunges forward to try and land the first punch in the inevitable fight, but Se-mi is quick to dodge it and redirect her momentum right into the side of a trash can. All hell breaks loose after that, and for a second, you think your savior might just win the fight with pure skill and experience alone, but reality catches up to you both. 

With pure numbers, they bring Se-mi to the ground, and even though you scramble to your feet and try to fight them as well, you’re humbled even faster with your already pre-existing injuries and lack of knowledge on any forms of fighting. The tall one is the angriest, screaming curses at you both as you’re kicked and punched on the ground. Se-mi’s attempt to get back on her feet is thwarted by a solid hit on her face, and your lack of an attempt is rewarded with a fist right to the center of your ribcage, knocking all the air out from your lungs. 

As you’re beginning to think they might really want to kill you both, sirens in the distance interrupt the bombardment of pain on your sore body. 

“Shit, is that the police? Have we been spotted?” Their voices are now twinged with a hint of anxiety at being caught, and fortunately for the two of you, that’s all it takes to end the assault. “Let’s just leave.”

With a final kick to your back, the girls quickly grab their backpacks and run for it, long forgetting your own bag and the 5000 won that started this beatdown in the first place. 

—

As you look around the giant room for a place to eat, you find yourself unconsciously scanning the crowd for a familiar face as well. 

A part of you is sure that it was her that you walked right by in the middle of the last game, but you were so focused on facing forward to make sure you wouldn’t trip that you weren’t able to get a clear look at her face. Even after you won, you were given little to no time to do anything on the field before being ushered back to the main room. Now, you’re beginning to think that the looming threat of death is making you cling even harder to long lost dreams, but you hope that isn’t enough to make you hallucinate people you used to know. 

Sitting down on one of the unoccupied steps, you open your container and begin digging in, forcing yourself to forget the foolish dream that’s been occupying your mind for hours now. Even during the vote, you found your hand drifting towards the bright red X just in case she really was here and at risk of imminent death (just like everyone else). In the end, the blue patch on your chest is unchanging, and no imaginary companion will change that.

“Y/N?”

Your neck almost snaps clean in half with the way your head shoots up to see the person who just called your name, a name you are 100% sure you didn’t give to anyone here. Yet, when you see who it is, you’re somehow even more surprised than you would’ve been if it was some stranger. 

Se-mi casually stands right in front of you after what felt like a lifetime without her. She smiles - no, smirks at the recognition evident on your face and plops herself down right next to you.

“Long time no see, 399,” she says, her voice teetering on the edge of teasing and what might be genuine happiness to see you again. Of course, she has to ruin the moment by reminding you of the situation you had to reunite in, and you glance down at the number on her chest as well.

“Yeah, it’s good to see you again, 380.” You add as much sass to your voice as you can manage in the moment, but it comes out just as soft as you meant it in your heart because it is good to see her again. 

For a moment, the two of you can only stare at each other, picking up the differences in each person’s appearance since the last time you met. It’s the kind of peaceful silence that you haven’t been afforded for far too long, and now that it’s given to you, you can’t bring yourself to be the one that breaks it. Luckily for you, it seems like Se-mi can’t either, because all she does is stare at you with an indecipherable look in her eyes. If you had to describe it, you might say that it’s the unspoken equivalence of the softness in your voice from earlier (by now, you understand full well that the most genuine emotion you’ll get out of her might just have to come from carefully reading every one of her expressions). 

For a long time, the two of you simply eat in silence, basking in each other’s company. Your legs occasionally brush with how close she sat to you, but it doesn’t feel awkward in the slightest; if anything, it’s comforting, reminding you of your youth together before the real world caught up. 

“So, you know what I’m gonna ask you.” As always, it’s her that breaks the silence between you two, and you can’t blame her for being curious. Afterall, this was a horrible place to meet someone you know.

“My father’s business finally completely collapsed, and now we’re getting chased around the country by loan sharks,” you say, laughing a bit at your own situation. It didn’t take long for you to decide that Se-mi deserved to know the truth, but you knew she would be the last person to judge you for such circumstances. “I didn’t have any other options besides this.”

She doesn’t look at you with pity for your answer. It’s one of the traits you appreciated most from her back then. 

“What about you? How’d you end up in this shithole?” 

Your question earns you a laugh that as always, never fails to make you smile right back at her.

“I mean, I can’t say I’m getting chased around, but I’ve got a bit of debt I need to handle.” She almost decides to cut her story off there, but you’re looking at her with such genuine interest in your eyes that she can’t bring herself to hide the rest from you. How long has it been since someone cared so much about what she had to say? “College was… too expensive. I didn’t have anyone that could help out, so I’ve just been working random jobs here and there.”

Unfortunately, her answer seems completely honest. You wish you could’ve been there by her side, but your own family was dealing with a lot then too. 

“Why didn’t you just… continue to try to make it work out there?” You’re praying that your question doesn’t come off as insensitive, but she seems to find it amusing if anything. “Why would you risk losing everything like this?”

That last phrase earns you a scoff this time, and she turns away with a strained expression, clearly struggling to keep her ever cocky smirk on her face.

“I don’t have anything left to lose. This place is my chance to get a headstart or just…” The rest remains unsaid, and even though she’s speaking so casually, your heart drops at the insinuation. “...I haven’t left a mark on the world at all, Y/N. What happens here really won’t matter much to anyone out there.”

For a second, you’re stumped as to how to answer her. There’s some twisted truth to her reasoning, and you’re sure that if most of the people in this room died tomorrow, their deaths would be passed off as mere victims to loan sharks or suicide. That, or their disappearances wouldn’t be noticed at all. But no. It isn’t the same for Se-mi, and you desperately want her to know that.

“It would matter a lot to me.” You try to make it sound casual so she doesn’t tuck tail and run like she usually does, but you know it left an impact on her with the way her eyes drift to the ground and her brows furrow just slightly. “You left a pretty big impact on my life, you know that?”

As you turn back towards your food, Se-mi glances at you from the corner of her eye. There isn’t a hint of deception or even sarcasm in your face, in your voice, in any part of you. It’s a level of honesty she’s only ever experienced from you, and after being apart for so long, she had forgotten how soothing it was to be on the receiving end of such genuine kindness. 

For years now, she had found herself searching for you in every face she came across, in every friend and partner she had, in every short moment of peace she was allowed in her rocky life. Now that she’s finally found you though, she’s not sure what to do with herself. 

For the rest of night, right up until lights-out, the two of you bask in the silence once again. In your own separate ways, you both sit there and think about each other. You consider what you lost when you were separated from her. She considers the fact that she might’ve just regained something she can now lose if her own life is lost, and the thought of it terrifies her. 

When it’s time to sleep, it’s Se-mi that gets up first, albeit with a great deal of hesitance. The two of you part ways, and before you can get too far, you hear a faint whisper from behind you.

“Good luck tomorrow.”

It makes you crack a smile, turning around to see her still looking at you. Her smile is still strained, but now, there’s a hint of happiness there.

“Yeah, you too, and goodnight, Se-mi.” 

Even now, the sound of your soft voice calling her name makes her heart skip a beat.

—

“What the fuck was that…” 

You finally begin to stir awake at the groans and curses coming from beside, and all your body feels is pain.

God, they really did a number on you didn’t they?

“Fucking cops didn’t even stop for us,” the voice groans again, now paired with a faint shuffling as you watch her attempt to get back on her feet through your incredibly blurry eyes. All you can manage is to roll onto your back, looking up to see the pitch black sky.

Wait, black?! 

How long have you been out?!

“Uff!” A loud clatter of boxes graces your ears as you glance over to see her - Se-mi, was it? - right back on the ground. From the looks of it, her legs were also feeling extremely uncooperative. You already feel like shit, but she took a majority of the beating so she probably feels even worse. Guilt courses through you as she groans in pain, rolling onto her back to mimic your position. 

For a couple minutes, you both lay there in silence, staring up at the empty night sky. In the far distance, cars zoom past on the main road, likely salarymen rushing to get home to their families in time to celebrate New Years.

By now, you've come to the realization that you'll probably would have to celebrate yours alone on the ground this time, considering the fact that your body was not letting you get back up. For now, at least, maybe you can get to know your savior (or rather, attempted savior).

“...I’m sorry about this,” you whisper, sighing heavily into the cold December air.

“Did you get a few hits in on me too?” She’s clearly mocking you, but you can’t even be mad right now. 

“Still… sorry.”

“It’s whatever.” A beat of silence follows. “I never liked those bitches anyways.” 

The second part is almost whispered as if it were a secret between the two of you, and you let out a small chuckle, cutting yourself off before it becomes a laugh as pain shoots up your torso at that small movement. 

In the tranquility that follows, Se-mi begins to fully question why she was laying there on the cold concrete in extreme discomfort for a stranger - well, not really a stranger, but she doesn’t even know your name. Then she thinks back to the ugly feeling she had in her gut watching you get cornered by those stuck-up rich kids, unwilling to even fight back, and she thinks she might’ve done the right thing despite how meaningless this encounter might become. 

She looks over at your bruised face thinking about how similar you looked to a kicked puppy at that instance, and she can’t help but push your buttons even more. 

“Aren’t you glad we were able to save your 5000 won?” 

The absurdity of her statement distracts you from the pain you feel, and after a scoff and a slight shake of your head, you find yourself genuinely laughing for the first time in a long time. It doesn’t take long for her to follow, and after a couple moments, you both find yourselves giggling like children at the shitty situation.

You enjoy this rare moment of companionship for only a couple seconds before you begin hearing loud shouts in the distance.

They’re counting down, but you’re nowhere near home and neither is she.

“5!”

“Hey, what’s your name?” 

“4!”

You turn your head and answer her, and she smiles at you.

“3!”

“I’m Se-mi.” 

“2!”

It’s different hearing her name from her own mouth, spoken without any of the hatred that your attackers infused into the word.

“1!”

You both look up just in time to see fireworks lighting up the once dark sky, red, yellow, and green hues reflecting in your eyes as you force yourself to relax and take in the moment. 

In this moment, with Se-mi by your side, you don’t feel as lonely as you expected yourself to be. It’s a feeling of comfort you’re rarely given, but you openly bask in it as you think about the confidence and bravery it must’ve taken to stand up against five people like that. In another life, perhaps, you could be someone like her, protecting people like you. 

Like a knight in shining armor.

“Happy New Year, Y/N. I’m going to sleep now.” Your head snaps over in her direction as she folds her hands behind her head and closes her eyes, getting way too comfortable on the ground of a shady alleyway.

“What?” No response. “What the hell are you talking about? We’re not sleeping here!”

She bluntly ignores you and her breaths get heavier, but it’s obvious that she’s just pretending to be asleep. The thought of getting up and leaving by yourself crosses your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to part with this girl just yet.

With a resigned sigh, you roll onto your side with a pained groan and close your eyes as well, praying that no mysterious van comes to kidnap you two in this moment.

“Happy New Year, Se-mi.” Silence. “And thank you.”

You’re already facing her so when you peak open your eyes, you see her lips twitch upwards at your choice to stay, and that solidifies the deal.

When morning comes the next day, you don’t even bother going home first before walking alongside her to school. You sit next to her in class for the first time, and you share the lunch you bought with her under the guise of ‘not being able to finish it.’ She’s resistant at first, but eventually, she indulges you. 

This routine continues for the next two years. It’s only interrupted when you break the news to her that your father is forcing the family to flee because of his growing debts. 

That night, you both walk back to the alley and lay there together under the stars.

You think you might’ve seen her eyes water once or twice, but you say nothing, unwilling to break the sacred silence between the two of you. It’s the last one you share for years, until you inevitably see her again in the worst possible place.

—

As everyone begins filing out to head to the next game, Se-mi feels an uncontrollable urge to break away from her current group to go find you once again. She can already see you in the distance, but even though the two of you make eye contact for a brief moment, you look away upon seeing her already large group. 

Shoving her hands in her pockets, she begins to turn away from the rambling of Thanos and Nam-gyu behind her, but a meek voice calls out her name and stops her.

“Where are you going?” 

It’s Min-su, and he’s looking at her like a lost animal terrified of losing its protector. A wave of guilt crashes into her at the thought of leaving this poor boy to the sharks, and even though your face is still the only thing on her mind, she wonders if it’s worth it to betray her new group. 

If she left now, she might not make it through this next game. 

If she dies now, she won’t get a second chance at life (and a second chance to live by your side again, but she pushes that thought to the side for now). 

“Nowhere, let’s go.”

That’s all it takes to appease him, and with one last glance over to where she saw you last, she reintegrates herself back into the group and moves forward. 

—

Even though the first two rounds pass by without a hitch, you think this game might be the most dangerous one yet. You’ve got your own little group from the Six-Legged Race, but as the announcer called for rooms of four, you watch the youngest girl of your team get shoved out of your group by two others (sisters, if you remembered correctly). It’s heartbreaking to hear her cry out as you all ran away, but you can’t save her and save yourself at the same time. 

You’ve made it this far, and you’d be damned if you were sent home an empty handed corpse now. 

As the platform begins to spin again, you pat the shoulder of the woman standing next to you - 047. She was closer to the younger one than you were, and her death obviously shook the poor lady up. Her reaction makes you realize how distant you’ve been to everyone since you arrived (with one notable exception, of course), and you find your own heart beating hard against your chest at the thought of being abandoned as well. 

“3 players.”

Of course.

For a second, the four of you freeze. The sisters are holding onto each other’s hands with a death grip, and you know now that it’s between you and 047. A part of you thinks about shoving her down so you could run away with the other two, but something behind her catches your eye before you can do anything.

It’s Se-mi. 

She’s standing completely alone, hand held out towards nobody, and not a single other person from that group you saw her with earlier by her side. 

Like it’s muscle memory, you shove past 047 and run the fastest you’ve ever ran right at her. You hear a faint yell of gratitude from behind you as you wrap your arms around Se-mi and pull her forward towards one of the empty rooms in the distance. The impact seems to wake her out of her stupor, changing your awkward position so that now, you’re running side by side with her hand in yours. Along the way, you grab a stray girl up from the ground by the back of her sweater and pull her along to complete the three. 

As you all clamber into the room, Se-mi slams the door shut behind you, barely missing the time-out buzzer. The lock clicks shut, and you hear gunfire outside, but she ignores all of it to turn around to look at you. This is the most emotional she’s looked since you’ve reunited, eyes downturned with sadness and a hint of fear at how close she was to death. 

Ignoring the girl repeatedly thanking you to your right, you walk up to Se-mi and pull her into a tight hug, relishing in the warmth of her body. 

“I’m glad I made it in time, 380.”

You feel her arms beginning to wrap around you before the lock clicks open, forcing you to pull apart to exit the room. Your hand doesn’t leave hers, and it’s a clear signal that you’ll be sticking by her side for the rest of this game.

Se-mi doesn’t even find herself searching the arena for Min-su and the others as you walk with her back to the platform, completely distracted by the tingling sensation in her hand as you interlace your fingers together. It’s a feeling that’s new to her, being chosen by someone in a manner like this; of course, she’s been desired before, maybe even loved (despite her inability to return the other person’s feelings), but this is different somehow. In this scenario, it’s you, not some random girl she met at a bar. It’s you choosing to risk your life to make sure she continues living, and in the wake of this realization, the feelings that she’s been shoving down for countless years come rushing back to her. 

As the next rounds pass by, you remain unchanging by her side. Even as the announcer calls for 2 players, you don’t even hesitate to pull her with you, leaving behind everyone you joined up with in the last couple rounds. 

Even after you run over the blood of countless others, you never let go of her hand, and she never lets go of yours.

—

“You really saved my ass back there.”

Here, back in the comfort of this familiar room, Se-mi has regained her usual joking nature, smirking at you as you nod, very clearly proud of yourself.

“Yes, I did. Maybe you should give me your share of the prize money for that,” you say, holding out your hand to her. She laughs and wraps her arm around your shoulder, walking you back over to the steps where you had your first conversation. 

“Maybe I will, or maybe I’ll pay for a couple meals together instead.” The innuendo isn’t lost on you, and your face goes red as she gets even cockier. “It’s time I pay for you for all those lunches, but dinner wouldn’t be so bad either.”

Your face is still turned away from her in embarrassment, but she can still see the blush on your cheeks, revelling in her own ability to make you fold. You mumble something under your breath, but she’s too focused on her victory to hear you. 

“What was that?”

“I said, you’ve already saved me plenty of times before, more times than you can count, so I should treat you first.” 

The warmth in her chest returns full force, and now, it’s her fighting to keep a blush off her face, lest you start embarrassing her about that too. She wonders, what would it be like to take you out on a proper date? She imagines you all dressed up, and in that moment, she decides what she wants to spend her prize money on first when you all leave this place. 

She wants to buy you flowers. She wants to take you to a nice, luxurious restaurant and show you off, then under the stars, she’ll ask you to be hers.

“Whatever you say, pretty lady.”

That earns her a smack on the arm and a scoff as your face starts burning once again (to Se-mi’s absolute delight). 

The moment is unfortunately interrupted by the main doors sliding open, and you watch as the pink guards file in. At the front table, two giant buttons lay waiting for the remaining contestants. Everyone around you begins to speak in hushed tones, obviously discussing their plans for the next vote. 

“Are you going to change your vote?” As you spin around to face her again, Se-mi gestures down at the blue patch on your chest. 

During your entire walk back, you had been contemplating your unchanging choice to stay and risk your life. For the majority of the first two days, you lived life believing there would be no consequences to your death. You wouldn’t lose anything - your life was already in immense danger outside this place, so your family wouldn’t be too surprised if you turned up dead either. There was nothing to lose and everything to gain, and so, O was the easy choice.

Then Se-mi walks back into your life and complicates the hell out of it. 

Now, you realize that if you vote to stay, you’re also voting for her to stay and risk her life. If either of you died here, you would be wasting this chance cast upon you to experience the world by her side.

“Yes, this should be enough money for my family to be able to live normally again.” 

She nods, and even though it looks like she’s still contemplating her decision, Se-mi made her choice as soon as you took her hand in the last game.

“Even if there were less money in the pig right now, I think I’d still pick to leave.” You smile softly at her and look her directly in the eye as you continue. “Being wealthy is a faraway dream, but for now, I just want to live in the company of those I love.” You squeeze her hand and hold your gaze, and this time, Se-mi isn’t able to hold back the blush that rushes onto her face.

If these games don’t take her out, you’ll really be the death of her.

—

As you silently eat what is hopefully your last meal in this place together, two groups of men clamber out of the bathroom. They’re bloodied and there’s a horrifying look of pure bloodlust on many of their faces, and you feel your heart drop. 

Would there be a fight tonight? Is that allowed?

Se-mi sees the fear on your face and gently rubs her thumb on the back of her hand. Despite her best efforts though, your concerns are not assuaged and you realize that getting shot by the pink guards might not be the only way you can die in this place. 

These people are hungry and hopeless, and you fully understand the lengths many would go through for a second chance.

“Se-mi, sleep with me tonight.” 

Her eyebrows raise and she smirks, but even this attempt to lighten the air with her usual humor doesn’t work, but still, she agrees immediately and you try to swallow the lump in your throat. You’re sure that no matter what happens, you won’t find sleep tonight, but that pales in comparison to your desire to protect Se-mi at all costs. 

You won’t leave this place without her. 

—

As the strobe lights turn on and off, your eyes bounce around the room as you search for somewhere, anywhere that might be free of the insane violence. Every way you look, there’s some sort of fight happening - that or you’ve just watched someone get brutally murdered in their own bed. For a second, you consider that you might be safe if you and her just stand still in your little corner, but a man rounds the corner and you feel yourself freeze up.

“Come here, you fucking traitor bitch!” It’s 124, and he looks like a rabid animal with red painted across his face and a bloody fork in his hand. In the back of your mind, you slap yourself for not keeping the utensil for self defense. 

Se-mi attempts to shove you further behind her as he begins charging at you two, but before you can even make a move, a glass bottle shatters at his feet. You all look up to see a young man that you don’t recognize, but from the rage on 124’s face, you figure he might’ve been one of his old teammates. 

In their distracted states, you rush forward, grabbing a shard of glass from the floor and swinging it right at the man’s head. Unfortunately for you, you still have absolutely no skills when it comes to fighting and he easily dodges the hit. It doesn’t feel like some slow motion action movie when you see his fork flying at your neck at full speed, but somehow, you’re fast enough to lift your hand so that it punctures right through your palm instead. You scream, and behind you, Se-mi calls your name as well. 

In an extremely painful rush of adrenaline, you maneuver his and your body to switch places, trusting Se-mi to take care of the rest. In the few flashes of light that you’re granted, you see her rush forward with her own shard of glass in hand, unforgivingly jabbing it right into the side of 124’s neck. 

“Fuck! Fucking bitch!” His scream pierces your ears as he finally lets you go, and you don’t waste the moment you get. Pulling his fork out of your hand, you slam it down into the side of his head with all your strength. 

A beat passes, then he falls to the ground unmoving. 

“Are you okay?! Let me see!” Se-mi rushes forward and takes you in her arms, dragging both of you backwards towards the wall as she inspected your injuries. In the rush that followed watching someone die by your own hands, you can barely feel the pain at all. All you can focus on is the woman in front of you and how afraid you were when 124 charged at her. 

“Se-mi - Se-mi, listen to me,” you choke you, using your bloody hands to gently hold her face. Her eyes are glossy with unshed tears, and you can see how much the encounter shook her to her core. “When we leave this place, promise me you’ll stay by my side.”

Your voice is desperate and you can feel your own tears rising, vision getting blurry as you struggle to wipe them off with the sleeve of your sweater. It looks like Se-mi barely heard your request with the way she was still scanning your body for any serious injuries. 

“What?! What are you-”

“Promise me! Please!” You’re openly sobbing now, holding onto the one thing keeping you moving in this world, and finally, she focuses her gaze back on your face. With a quiet voice, she finally responds to you with a shaky smile.

“How could I ever leave you?”

Her eyes are the most expressive they’ve been, filled with concern and what looks like love, the same love that you’ve held for her ever since you were 16. 

With trembling hands, she holds your face just as you hold hers and leans in, pressing her lips against yours. It’s not gentle - it’s more desperate if anything, but you feel like flying in that moment. As your legs slowly give out, she holds you carefully in her arms and lowers the both of you to the floor. 

Finally, as you begin to drown out the surrounding chaos, the world around you falls silent as well. You close your eyes and imagine that you’re back in that alleyway, finally at peace with the person you love the most.

When you open your eyes again, she’s still right there in front of you, and you’re the happiest you’ve been since the day you met.

—

A/N: PLOT MONSTER STRIKES AGAIN!!! anyways this was inspired by a cherry waves edit I saw of her on TikTok where she told min-su "I thought you wouldn't deceive me" so I had to give her a girl that she KNOWS would never deceive her... okay guys hope y'all enjoy and as always plz PLZ LMK WHAT U THINK!! I love interacting with y'all im serious... and for the no eul lovers I see u and I hear u... but its gonna be a bit till that one comes out cuz im about to start second semester college... hashtag NOT FUNNY ANYMORE

also im still playing around with the layout of my posts so if I keep doing different sht and it throws u off im so sorry LOL

[kaynanarie]

Eyes of Gold (Part 10)

(A WukongxReader story inspired by Beauty and the Beast and             Lutung Kasarung.) (First) (Prev)

            In the weeks that followed, you fell into a comfortable routine. Most of your time was spent with Shihou as he taught you more about the mountain and its people. On the days duty called him away, the other monkeys welcomed you into their company. They helped you pick fruit, gather herbs, and even taught you how to weave your own basket. Cubs would ask you to play and the adults shared stories and gossip while work was done. The closer you grew with the troop, the more you began to feel like you truly belonged.

            The frequent trips to your own village soothed any lingering homesickness. You would bring food and speak with the elder before returning to the mountain with the setting sun. Each visit gave you updates on the villagers’ struggles and your sister’s increasing neglect. While you had been fortunate to avoid her notice so far, you were always careful to stay discreet.

            It was a day like any other as you left the mountain, waving farewell to Shihou. The sun was bright, the wind was cold, and your basket was filled with fresh fruit. It wasn’t until you reached the edge of the village that something seemed…off.

            Everything was eerily quiet; no bartering at the market, no children at play, not even the calls of bird or beast. The main street, usually bustling with activity, was completely deserted. Scattered buildings along both sides had suffered damage with a few reduced to piles of splintered wood. Something had clearly happened, but what? You couldn’t begin to imagine.

            Nothing moved and no one appeared as you crept in for a closer look. There was a silent tension in the air, as if village itself was holding its breath. “Hello?” you called, wincing when your voice echoed back. “Is anyone here?”

            “Quiet!” someone hissed. You glanced around but didn’t see another soul. “Do you want them to hear you?”

            “Who?” you asked, trying to follow the whispering voice. “Where is everyone?”

            Hands grabbed your shoulder and covered your mouth before tugging you back into the shadows of an alleyway. You shoved your attackers away and rounded on them, basket in hand and ready to swing. To your surprise, you recognized the two young men gawking at you as village farmers.

            “You’re alive!” one nearly shouted while the other continued to stare in shock. “Elder Gran was telling the truth!”

            “Truth about what?” you asked, glancing between the two. “What’s going on?”

            “Demons snuck into the village last night,” the second man said grimly. “They stole all the weapons and took everyone prisoner before we even knew what was happening. Elder Gran told us to find you and ask the Monkey King for help but we thought she was crazy sending us to the mountain!”

            “We were waiting till dark to make a run for it but the demons are still patrolling around, capturing anyone they find!”

            Footsteps and muttered voices echoed down the street, hushing the conversation. You peeked around the corner, seeing a long, scaly tail disappear into a nearby house. Clattering and crashing sounds followed as the inside was ransacked. Backing out of sight, you turned to the two farmers with a nervous nod.

            “If we can get to the mountain, I can ask Sun Wukong for help.”

            They both stared at you with a mix of doubt and disbelief. “You think the Monkey King would actually do something?”

            “I…can’t say for certain,” you admitted. While his offer of assistance had seemed genuine, the Monkey King’s feelings towards your village were still unknown. He might accept, he might refuse, “But the least I can do is ask. He said he would help if the village was in need and I believe him.”

            “Why would the Monkey King listen to anything you ask of him?”

            A nearby crash startled you and ushered your group further behind the buildings. The gruff voices of the demons passed by, casual and oblivious. You waited until they faded away to finally breathe again.

            “We don’t have time to argue!” you whispered, peering back out to the empty road. “If we’re going to get help, we have to get to the mountain now!”

            Despite their pale and nervous glances, both farmers nodded. Taking a final sweep of the area, you tiptoed out of the alleyway and gestured for the others to follow. “The coast looks clear. Let’s hurry before they come back.”

            “Too late for that, humans!”

            Within seconds, the empty village was suddenly crawling with a dozen demons; jumping down from rooftops, creeping out of buildings, and appearing from shadowy side streets. They ranged from hairy to scaly to feathery. All were armed, armored, and wearing sharp sneers as they surrounded your group.

            Icy fear flooded your veins as the circle grew tighter, your chances of escape shrinking with every step. Nowhere to run, no way to fight, and Shihou was too far to save you this time.

            A snake-like demon with long fangs hissed in disdain. “Take them away and put them with the other prisoners. The rest of you, keep looking for any other stragglers.”

            “Wait! That one there!” a dreadfully familiar voice growled from the crowd. You turned to recognize the hunched wolf from weeks before. His hackles were raised, teeth bared and eyes glaring as he pointed you out. “Venerable Great King! That’s the human responsible for our captain’s death!”

            “We finally found them?” The deep, booming question shook you nearly as much as the thunderous steps trembling the ground. A monstrous bull stomped his way past the other demons until he towered over you. He stood up right, taller than any man you knew, with hooves and a bovine head complete with horns, curved and wickedly sharp. The bull stared down at you, bemused and unimpressed by what he saw. “So, you’re the human responsible for the wolf captain’s demise? Seems unlikely.”

            “I didn’t kill him!” you squeaked in protest. “They were trying to kill me!”

            “As much as I believe you,” the bull said, grabbing your arm and shoving you to the ground. “I’m afraid I can’t allow demon-killing humans to go unpunished.”

            A huge battle axe was handed to him, the honed edge catching the winter sunlight. Your thoughts raced in a panic as the blade was lifted into the air. Memories of your father, your sister, and your beloved Shihou flashed through your mind. Tears gathered as the axe swung down, a raised arm your last line of defense.

            Something flashed, bright and golden. The surrounding demons groaned and hissed as they were temporarily blinded. You blinked the shine from your eyes and looked around, thankfully still in one piece. Warmth against your wrist caught your attention and you could only stare in bewilderment.

            The hair. The makeshift bracelet Shihou had given you was glowing, encompassing you in light that stopped the bull’s axe mid-swing.

            “What is this!?” the demon snarled, trying to force the blade down only to be flung back by the shield’s power.

            Faster than your eyes could follow, the hair unwrapped itself from your wrist and darted into the air. Extending itself into a gold thread, it tangled around the handled of the axe, yanking it from the bull demon and flinging it into a nearby roof. The blur of gold raced back to the bull, spinning itself around his hands to pin them together. No matter how much he fought and struggled, the hair refused to release him.

            “Whatever trickery this is, it won’t save you!” the demon bellowed.

            “It’s not me!” you shouted, equally confused.

            “Enough! Let’s see you spin your spells once you’ve been gored!”

            He stomped his hooves and lowered his head, the tips of his horns aimed right at you. Shouts of terror filled the street as the other demons fled, scrambled to get out of the way of the enraged bull. With a snort and a shout, he charged.

            Another flash of light and an earsplitting sound like thunder rattled the village. Something crashed into the ground just before the bull, throwing him back with the shockwave alone. You shielding your eyes as the dust settled and the glow faded into a familiar figure.

            His golden armor sparkled in the sunlight, phoenix feathers arched from his crown, and a heavy iron staff spun in his hand.

            The Monkey King had come.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

~🍑 Peach Friends 🍑~

@joyfulllittlething @iluxurycruisedthatship

(If you would like to join the tag list, let me know!)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Took forever to find where to end this one but now, Bull Demon King! Got some action planned for the next chapter. Thank you to all my Peach Friends for reading! The love and support has really motivated me into keeping this story going!

You can also find this story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60643669

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' DANCE WITH ME? ,,

|| pairing: hawks x gn!reader / keigo takami x gn!reader

|| warning: hurt/comfort, good ending chat trust

|| word count: 1.1k

|| happy new years guys 🩵

You and Keigo had been married for a year. You knew exactly what you signed up for the moment you started dating, he was very clear about how his job was.. Well, busy. And how it kept HIM busy. You understood this and welcomed it, honestly you liked the alone time you got. There had been times you two have fought about this, but only once or twice. Despite fighting less, your worry grew the more attached you got with Keigo. The more you fell for Keigo.

Today was.. Harsh. You woke up alone in bed, per usual, the place you go to for your coffee was closed because of a villain attack on it, and you were late to work. Because of, guess what! A villain. Your boss was on your ass about, you forget half of what he yelled at you about, it was fine, all of that was small cracks in a glass cup that was overflowing with water. What thr final blow was?

Youe beloved husband, Keigo.

You had planned a date together. You'd been planning this date for a week or so. The SECOND you clocked out of work you rushed home and put on your best clothes! Matching it with a bag Keigo had bought you and of course, your wedding band.

By this time it had been 7:00 PM. Your date was for 8:00 PM! Alright, Keigo had an hour to get ready if he got here.. Soon.

But, as you watched the minutes go by, constantly checking for a call, a text!.. Keigo was no where to be seen. Once it turned 8:20 PM, it had been to late, your reservation was too late and you couldn't go. And honestly? You didn't wanna go out anymore. You just sat on the couch, scrolling on your phone, still in your date night outfit as you heard familiar flapping on the balcony.

Keigo! 20 minutes late, to arriving TO the resturaunt.

"Babe, I'm so sorry-"

You put a hand up as you stood up and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Your brows furrowed as you looked him up and down. You looked over him, he seemed a bit disheveled, some scratches but nothing too bad.

"You're late, Kei"

He stood there, his lips pressed in a thin line as he looked at you. He didn't have anything to say. His wings ruffled behind him as the blone man let out a tired sigh.

"I'm sorry, love. I promise I tried to leave patrol early, but the commission called me in for a meeting right after patrol ended. It was a whole debrief and-"

Keigo was rambling again. He often did this when you were upset with him, or if he was upset at himself. Your gaze softened as you listened to him. He had a harsh day too. Did it excuse his actions? No, not at all, you're his beloved spouse. He should've been there. He knows it.

Which is why it shocked him when you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him.

".. You'll have to make it up to me."

You said softly. This could've been the BEST time to make a teerible innuendo, but instead Keigo let out a shakey breath and hid his face into the crook of your neck. Giving a small nod to your comment.

"I'll make dinner, I'll- I'll make whatever you want, or order in whatever you want,"

You shook your head with a small laugh. You pulled away from him and took out your phone. He watched in confusion as you tapped your fingers against the screen... What the hell were you doing? He got even more confused as when you started playing a song.. THE song. The song that played at your wedding.

You slowly placed your phone on the coffee table as you slowly walked back to him.

"You stood me up. I'm upset at you,"

That stung his heart, but he understood. He stood there, listening to you talk.

"You'll need to make it up to me," Keigo nodded. ".. So. To make it up to me by a little,"

You extended your hand out. The moonlight coming out from the glass and hitting your skin just right. Keigo looked you up and down, in awe of how.. Gorgeous his spouse was.

"Dance with me?"

Keigo's breath hitched as those words left your mouth.. He took a few steps close to you and placed his hand into yours, moving around to get into dancing position. Just like your wedding.

The two of you danced to the music, nothing but the music and your steps filling in the silence. As if none of you dared to even breathe. But it was okay.. If you closed your eyes it could be like your wedding day all over again. The most stressful, the most tear filled, and the best day of both of your lives. It was exactly like you had imagined.

Once the song ended Keigo leaned into you, hiding his face on your shoulder. His wingd drooping down as he held you close.

"I'm so sorry, my love."

"I know."

You stroked his hair softly as he just held you close. He knew you had every right to be upset. He knew he could've done better, this had happened before. Keigo felt terrible. You had been so patient with him, so good to him. He didn't feel like he deserved it, but you always assured he did.

"I'm so sorry,"

He repeated himself as you held him close. God, you hated hearing him this.. Sad.

"I've been terrible.. I'm sorry.. I've been a bad husband to you."

You pulled his face away from your shoulder and stroked his cheek with your thumb. A small smile on your face as you looked over his features.

"At least you're self-aware"

You had a small smirk on your face as you said that. Ah, teasing.

"I try to be."

He let out a small chuckle as he gently pushed his lips against yours. That night, you assured him he wasn't a bad husband, that he wasn't a bad anything. He needed your reassurance a lot, and no matter how upset you were with him, you'd lend it. Afterall, he was always there for you, it was the least you could do.

Of course, Keigo still made it up to you, taking you on an extravagant date and pampering you at anytime. Hell, he didn't even let you brush your teeth by yourself. He was such a dork, but you loved him.

And god, does he love you.

|| God, this is lowkey rlly badly written but yk