#anyways i cannot stop jamming this

[maeborowski]

I'm in rough shape You're just on my mind

Hotline TNT - Are U Faded?

[freckliedan]

assumed u were an only child because you don't mention your siblings often (if ever?) + i'm an only child myself and tend to assume everyone else is until proven otherwise. the concept of having siblings is still genuinely wild to me so i basically never think people live that experience

hell yeah thank you for the info on that bc i never know how i come across to others! so real and relatable to have areas of just not conceptualizing a different experience of the world.

my sister and i aren't really close at all & haven't been since i was like 14—it's not like we actively don't get along, we call on the phone sometimes? we're just really different people. i definitely do not have the experience of being good friends with a sibling the way a lot of my friends with siblings do & have had multiple friends i made as an adult guess i was an only child too.

[cookies-after-dark]

BRO AND W/ THE BEAST SOUNDS

i think they have?? multiple grows?? stay with me now-

there's growls that are mildly threatening, smth small that are used as a warning (think of like,, animals getting nipped during play and they get annoyed; it's a sort of growl that says "hey i didn't like that")

AND THEN there's the growls that are actually threatening, like they're wildly pissed off, and in my head they sound eldritch, like something you would never hear on earthbread, something that awakens primal fear in cookies (altho all growls sound different, they cause the same effect)

i can imagine w/ all the beasts in yandere contexts (altho smilk is always on my mind), when their darling escapes that growl leaves them and the jam (?) of everyone around gets cold. or they catch their darling mid-escape attempt and growl like that, to scare the darling out of ever trying that again (picture smilk growling like that while his darling is almost out of the spire, the darling freezes, and he picks them up by the scruff and drags them back to his bedroom *ahem, nest*, no words needed; as a side note, i think the darling would never expect a sound like that to leave smilk, which is even more terrifying and they remember that truly, at the end of the day, they're dealing w/ an eldritch god)

eldritch beasts my beloveds

additional tags: yanderes, unhealthy relationship dynamics, kidnapping, isolation, predator/prey dynamics, possessiveness

ships: yan!burning spice cookie x reader, yan!mystic flour cookie x reader, yan!shadow milk cookie x reader

The very very few (two) mutuals from my mains/discord that I allow to see this blog will read this and look at me like 😒 because projecting animal linguistics and animal behaviors/socialization onto animal-like characters are like, the only things I ever talk about.

I cannot imagine in any universe that any Beast (that have so far been released) other than Shadow Milknwould ever he angry that you escaped, even the yabdwre versions. Burning Spice Cookie delights in having another chance to hunt you down like a prized buck, and Mystic Flour Cookie is so emotionally balanced and capable that any feelings or urgency or dissatisfaction can be tempered before she brings you back herself.

Burning Spice Cookie, upon seeing your nest empty and your scent stale, would growl in excitement. He'd climb atop the highest ledge and let out a loud bellow; not of rage but a rallying call, a mighty sound that carries for miles. Whereever you may be, it's most likely you hear it, and so does any other spice warrior in the vicnity. Burning Spice Cookie wants to let everyone in his territory know that the hunt is on.

Mystic Flour Cookie is mostly unpreturbed by your escape, she knows you won't be gone for long. Her vocalizations are mostly saved for you anyway; so the most you'll hear is a chuff or a deep sigh as soon as she curls your arms around you to take you home.

Even as yanderes, those two are pretty "well adjusted", for Beasts anyway, that they won't immediately fly off the rail in anger if they find you missing. Surprisingly, yandere Burning Spice Cookie is slower to anger than yandere Shadow Milk Cookie for several reasons (BS isn't nearly as insecure, for one very important reason).

Shadow Milk Cookie, though? It would be a straight up lie to say that Shadow Milk Cookie doesn't enjoy scaring the wits out of you when you step out of line. Either through his illusions or his straight up Eldritch Call that basically says "You little annoying gnat, stop right where you are." in unholy monster language. But make no mistake, it pisses him off when he has to go fetch you again.

He's possessive in a way that feels more personal and targeted than even Burning Spice Cookie, and he's unrelenting in a way that feels more restricting than Mystic Flour Cookie.

Even Black Sapphire Cookie and Candy Apple Cookie can't help but back off when they hear Shadow Milk Cookie snarl so dreadfully like that. They don't risk getting in his way to bring you back and discipline you; they know he's got a handle on that.

[cookierunoutofideas]

The Bride (Pure Vanilla x fem!Reader) [Part 1]

Corpse Bride AU, I choose you! Also, I can't deal with cookie anatomy, so we're pretending cookies have fingers and all that jazz. Possibly OOC. No beta, we crumble like Elder Faerie Cookie. One-sided PureLily.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

“Sigh any more, my friend, and the breath of life might escape you.”

"Light of Truth?"

"Correct! I apologize for my silence and for worrying you, but regaining my consciousness after Shadow Milk's interference was a bit difficult."

"After all, he was your original holder..."

"Wrong. I am the Light of Truth, my first and only holder is you, Pure Vanilla Cookie. The Light of Knowledge is no more."

Pure Vanilla Cookie doesn't answer, his mood still gloomy as he wanders through the odd woods of Beast Yeast. He knows he should believe his soul jam, or at least give it the benefit of doubt, but after the taunts from Shadow Milk Cookie, he finds it hard to simply accept.

And isn't that his greatest sin, anyway? To run away from what he is unable of accepting. To run away and allow for doubts to eat away at his pitiful will.

"My friend, the moment you allow his words to become your reality is the moment he has won," the Light of Truth warns him softly. "If you cannot trust me-"

"That's-"

"If you cannot trust me, and I understand why that is, then I ask you to trust your beloved White Lilly Cookie."

Unable to fake his emotions to his own soul jam, which has become a very piece of himself after so many years together, Pure Vanilla doesn't try to stop the faint blush that rushes to his cheeks. He remembers, long ago, complaining about the unseemingly shade it makes his dough... and the sweetest compliment from White Lily Cookie, to this day making the visage of his blush something to be endeared by instead of ashamed.

"Ah, there it is~" Sometimes Pure Vanilla wonders if the others are also close enough to their soul jams to be teased like this, or if his is just particularly playful. "Young love~"

"Not quite that young anymore, old friend."

"Nonsense, you're but a baby!"

A soft laughter follows the quip. The moon rises over the thick trees. He knows he shouldn't wander too far from the fae cookies and his friends, not only for their safety but his own, this is Beast Yeast after all, but the silence of the barely illuminated woods calms his mind. He needs some time for himself, some time to place his thoughts in place and his feelings in the deepest corners of his being.

There is no time for them.

Plus, out of all the suffering he knows he will inevitably face in the land of beasts, a broken heart is not one he is particularly looking forwards to. He has avoided it for so long now, it can wait one more adventure, specially one with an enemy so eager to use whatever he's given to hurt Pure Vanilla and his group.

With a heavy sigh, he finds a thick root under a big tree, the perfect height for a seat, and sits down, resting his staff on his shoulder.

"Your feelings will not leave if you sigh harder."

"I know, I know. I just... I can't help it..."

"... talking about them might help, however."

"What can I ever tell you that you don't already know?"

"Isn't it better, then? To already have the certainty I will not mock you no matter what slips past your lips?"

That... is true. One thing Pure Vanilla Cookie tries hard to keep to himself is the insecurity of having his honest thoughts and feelings mocked by those who truly matter to him. He can brush off most taunts quite easily, but to have his defining trait be invalidated by someone he cherishes is the same as having a millino needles go through his dough. It is agony.

Rather ironic that Shadow Milk Cookie isn't in that category, but the connection forged by their soul jams places the jester in a very peculiar place with Pure Vanilla. He hits the other great insecurity of the healer: the fear of not being enough.

The Ancient Hero who carries The Light of Truth, everyone. A being full of doubts and fears, not quite heroic as the fairytales he once heard.

"It certainly will help with that terrible habit of yours."

"Are you that tired of my thoughts?"

"Lying to one self is the biggest lie of all."

Knowing he won't ever be capable of winning against the Light of Truth, Pure Vanilla Cookie can only laugh under his breath before starting his monologue. He allows himself to return to his times as a student, a silly baby cookie with a big dream and bigger homework piles. A simpler time where his greatest objective was to find his best friend and bask in her presence. Make heart eyes at her as she poured over multiple books stolen directly from the reserved sections of the library. Feel his heart skip beats every time she graced him with a look and a smile. Hold her hand as they giggle their way to their secret place with more stolen books under their arms. Dream of a future where they face life after the Academy together as one.

"I still carry the ring," he tells The Light of Truth, pulling said ring from one of his many hidden pockets. "As foolish and hopeless as that dream is, I can't bring myself to simply let go of it."

"To think you were so close to proposing..." if The Light of Truth had lungs, it would be sighing heavily right about now.

"Not really proposing, it's more... a promise ring. White Lily Cookie is far too free spirited to settle down and I'd hate to become her ball and chain."

"Did you add that to your proposal-I mean, the confession speech?" Pure Vanilla ignores the jab, choosing to nod only, fingers carefully caressing the ring.

It truly isn't a proposal ring. He means it when he says he'd never take away White Lily Cookie's freedom, even if that meant giving up his early childhood dreams of settling down somewhere with a flock of sheeps and a beautiful garden. Becoming the king to an entire kingdom only fueled that resolve, for he learned fast how stifling the life of a royal can be.

(And if the knowledge that White Lily Cookie now has no choice but to stay in one place to keep an eye on the Silver Tree brings hope to his heart, he guiltly shoves it away.)

"I'm not sure, I wrote and rewrote it so many times. If I'm not mistaken, it goes a bit like...

"My dear beloved, you are the one in my heart and mind, from the very moment we first locked eyes. The nights I've spent watching the moonlight as it pales in comparison to your visage were endless, and will continue to be," Pure Vanilla raises the ring to the moon. It is a thin band of silver with a delicate vanilla flower that glints golden under the light of the moon.

"With this ring, I wish to seal our fates together, though never in a way that takes your freedom. No, this is merely a promise to always find each other no matter how lost we become. To always know the other stands with us no matter the distance between us. To always say goodbye with the knowledge it shall never be the last no matter how long we stay away," feeling bold like his younger self, he theatrically lowered his body in one knee, hearing his old companion laugh at his antics in his mind.

"With this ring, I give myself to you and selfishly ask you give yourself to me, so we may forever belong with each other. Will you accept it?"

Finishing his frankly embarrassing monologue, Pure Vanilla Cookie slips the ring on one branch of the roots. At the back of his mind, he notices that the branch looks like a finger and that it comes from a thicker branch that looks like a hand, however he is far too euphoric to truly pay attention.

He misses theater class.

No hands, yet he can tell The Light of Truth claps at his performance, making him laugh in a way he hasn't done in some time.

Still on his knee, he leans forward to take the ring back.

The roots of the tree shake, probably with the wind.

He gently takes hold of the ring.

The roots snap closed around his fingers, tugging him harshly towards the ground.

"I do."

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

𓏲 ࣪₊♡ what i think katsuki n’ shouto would listen to !♡𓏲 ࣪₊

a/n : so I had this ready..but Tumblr fuckin ate the og ask..so anon if ur still sticking around (this was sent to me before I want on my break :(() ily !! and I hope you enjoy ! and all of y'all too off ! 3K WE UP !!

katsuki ♡

for some reason, i cannot get the image of katsuki listening to nobody by skindred out of my head LMFAOOO

(maybe bc ive been listening to it non stop)

so anyways i think you can tell that i'm feeling very metal for him,, nu metal, heavy metal, groove metal he's all for it ! i don't see him being particularly picky about it.

i think he'd listen to deftones, slipknot, skindred and korn ! i think he also has other similar bands in his playlist but i see these as most of his mains !

katsuki's a renowned little shit, so he'll share his earbuds with you, have you thinking he's on some cute shit only for him to hide his phone screen from you to jumpscare with a hyper loud song so he can snicker about it like a mountain troll💀

so yeah he's extremely irritating. of course if ur into it yall jam out together !!

buuuut on the other hand he definitely is a rap/hip hop and r&b typa guy !

i can definitely see him listening to some mf doom, tupac and DEFINITELY kendrick lamar oh em gee

pls don't get me started on r&b,,,i know he'd love him some brent faiyaz..teehehehe <3

i feel like he'd really like frank ocean and tyler the creator ! i feel like he wouldn't be a hyper fan, but he has a lot of songs in his playlist !

don't ask me why yall,,,but tell me why i see him listening to fugees and erykah badu...dreamy sigh

so yeah he'll jumpscare the shit outta you with his loud music, but most of the time when he's not being a nuisance he'll happily share his earbud with you and put on some sappy soul song to subtly tell you he love you cus hes shy lolol

a lot of the songs he listens to he relates to so,, if he plays the intro of all mine by brent faiyaz.. KNOW ITS ABOUT YOUUU!!!

shouto♡

now shouto's a lil trickier for me..i feel like he likes to experiment w new music genres sometimes, but he has his lil favourites yaknow??

i like thinking he'd listen to steve lacy and frank ocean ! he has a few select songs that he likes the most ! he gives me infrunami n' mercury typa vibes

it feels the best for me to say he'd listen to indie rock/pop (sorry if these aren't the right terms yall it's googles fault if they aint😭)

i feel like he fucks w the smiths HEAVY. i also see him listening to the cure ! he also gives me smells like teen spirit by nirvana !

like i said i feel like he likes to experiment cus lemme be honest i feel he's messy😭 like his playlist is a clusterfuck

there is no sad playlist or casual playlist like everything is in one playlist LMFAOOO

but no yeah he doesn't care much, which is why i think if you put him on the good shit you might see some pink pantheress n some laufey in there LMFAOO

if you recommend a song to him it's probably in there before you can blink lololol

shouto also starts copying your playlist after a while lolol soon you'll start thinking you have your phone when you scroll thru his playlist but nah💀

i also see him listening to mitski..need i say more ?

this was such a cute ask and it was rlly fun to do !! if you guys have any questions like these PLEAASSEEE feel free to ask me !!! tysm for the ask anon n' m'sorry it took me so long to respond ! i'm gettin' to all your asks one at a time, so please be patient with me <3 !!!

[strawberry-nugget]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

~In which you and Katsuki watch 'Ride your Wave' and you end up crying uncontrollably about it in his arms, featuring a twist on 'would you love me if i was a worm'

Tags // Warnings: Fluff, like a lot of it, crack, these two idiots are sappy and in love, they’re SAPPY I’m telling you, cuddles cuddles cuddles, a little somnophilia (??) towards the end, uhhhh reader smokes for a second.. Enjoyyyyy :>

All CHARACTERS ARE 20+

Word Count: 6.4k

You sob. 

Unfathomably hard and uncontrollably. 

Wine bottle in one hand, cigarette in the other, you dig your clothed knee in your eye socket and pat the salty tears away from your eyelashes— careful not to rub; your lash tech will kill you if you rip your extensions off once again. 

You're not even halfway through this goddamn one and a half hour movie and your eyes can't stop welling up. You have to pause it, wipe your eyes and then press play, then continue the circle all over again until you absolutely cannot keep your own two eyes open. 

The candle on the coffee stand that serves as the only lighting in the room hurts your eyes too much. Your nose is splitting at the seams from how much you've to wipe it with toilet paper— your chest heaves. Up, down. Like it's filled with all the sorrows that the protagonist of the movie you're watching carries.

And then, there's Katsuki. 

“Put out that cigarette, ya look like shit holding it”

Pressing his lips into an angry pout as you pause the movie again, red orbs boring into you from the corners of his eyes and as of now, you decide to unwrap his arm away from you. 

“You're so evil!” You sob as you speak, hiccuping a breath. “You're a bad, bad man, Katsuki”

“Oh you're never getting a movie rec from me ever again”

Even though he seems taken aback by your sudden change of position, his arm doesn't retreat completely. It hovers there, fingers twitching like he’s considering whether to pull you back in or let you decide your next position that uses him as a body pillow. 

“Good,” you hiccup again, grabbing the remote and jamming the play button. “Your taste in Shoujo is gut wrenching”

“S'not”

With pouty lips and the sides of his mouth wrinkled in action, his palm takes a hold of the side of your head, pushing you onto his lap. You give him little resistance, shocked and sobbed out as you are— you collapse into his knees with a gorilla grip on the neck of the wine. 

“Who makes a love story this sad Katsuki? Who does that?”

Instead of replying, he licks his lips slightly, catching his button lip between his teeth for as long as a second lasts. His eyes shut close for one, two, three seconds. He's far more dramatic than you, when you're the one who's crying. 

You try to roll your head to glare at him, to no avail. It's hard to do so with blurry eyes and his fingers being an obstacle to your ogling, but you do catch your glimpse anyways, as he inhales sharply through his nose. Just as his neck tenses. 

“You're a drama queen. That's all”

It's astounding how weirdly hot he looks right now. Half lid eyes that flicker golden and vermillion flames as the orange lights of the candle dance, casting rays of light onto every sharp feature and angle of his face. That alone is almost enough to distract you from the movie. Was he not the ultimate menace that he is with you right now, you'd jump him. 

The second he presses play, his thumb hooks over the bottle neck, over your fingers, to grasp it away from your hands. You hear as he gulps some wine down, even if your eyes are glued to the screen. 

Soon enough, when he moves your body to get the rest of the wine on the coffee table, you're already bursting into another fit of tears. 

You can't actually believe Himiko's best friend just confessed to his girlfriend. 

Katsuki pauses the movie, again and bows his head to look at you— the hand that's wrapped over your head to softly stroke the hair over your ear, ready to violate your face. 

Through silent sobs, you know he's trying to cheer you up. 

He absolutely hates to hear you cry. There's heartstrings that are being pulled into existence every single time he hears a sob coming from the depths of your throat. It hurts him more than this dumb movie ever could. 

Still, he opts to run his pointer across your face, hook it under your top lip and pull it. He tries to poke your eye open and he even taps the pad of his finger onto your good—and not runny, nostril to cut away your air intake. He laughs like a menace at it, before he shoves it into your nostril for a split second. 

“Katsuki!” you yell, and oof— there's that playfulness back in your voice “You're so gross. Ew”

“Trynna fuck new wholes babe”

You scratch your nose in disgust as he lets out that familiar raspy laugh of his, make a move to snatch your tissue from your hand to wipe his finger. He bullies you with it, wavering it across your face like he's going to touch you with it. Like you're not full of your own tears and snot already. 

“Ew ew” you laugh as you sob. Hand reaching out to shove his finger away from your face only to end up fighting him on the couch.  But with a flip of his wrist and his leg, you land right on top of him; chest to chest. As if you're not still holding his finger. 

If that's what he does with you while you're just holding his finger, just to play fight with you, imagine what he does to villains… that as a notion is almost hot enough to stop your sobs. 

You stay pinned on top of his chest, his hands, wrapped around your waist and trapping you in your position. The tissue is nowhere in sight for him to bully you with it, but as you squeal and wiggle to get out of his grasp and get the revanche you need, you dive nose first between his pecs and vigorously wipe your face onto his T-shirt. 

“Oh? And I'm the disgusting one?” he humors “you ain't getting me to move babe”

With a heavy head, you stop wiggling— you take a deep breath, as muffled as it is, and completely relax into his arms. A very well known surrendering tactic that has to make him let his guard down. 

You're more than determined to win this play fight. He made you cry with his movie rec and now he's acting all high and mighty, so it should be fair! 

While you're deep in thought about your next move, eyes already set on his neck and your upcoming attack on the spot, you're taken aback, when he grabs your cheeks in one hand, catching you with puckered lips. The lethal weapon! 

“Stop it! Katsuukii! Let go of my cheeks” you mumble. 

He groans as a response, opting to press play. 

Not even five minutes pass before you're caught up in tears again. This time though your boyfriend doesn't whine about it. 

He holds you closer, free hand searching the spot on the back of the couch where your fluffy blanket is, to wrap it around both of you. 

Only when he's turned the two of you in a human-couch-blanket burrito, does he leave a soft peck to your forehead. The sudden act of affection makes you nuzzle into him and in return he just wraps the blanket snugglier over you, until only your eyes and nose are poking out. 

Your fingers clutch over his T-shirt as new tears fall down your eyes and onto him. You try to steal a glance at him, only to find him boring his eyes into the TV. No emotion behind them whatsoever. 

“How are you not bawling right now?”

“I’m a baller not a bawler” 

Though you shoot him a disgusted look, the sound of laughter after a small pause, broken by one or occasionally two sniffles fills the entire living room. 

“You're a child” You whine and Katsuki sports the smuggiest expression a person could muster; one eyebrow raised, an evil and way too wide grin, chest rising impossibly high as he breathes— he's too proud of his humor. You almost don't want to ruin it for him. 

He rasps a laugh that's too loud, too throaty as he locks your body with his hands again.

“Katsuki, stop it!”

“Seriously though. Stop crying or I'm turning it off”

“Nooooo, don't do this to me” you wail dramatically. 

He plants a kiss to the top of your forehead as if to interrupt your sentence and with half poured lips that you can barely distinguish in the dark he says “You cry over everything” 

His tone is teasing, but there’s something gentler beneath the raspiness of his voice. Something as serious as a confession. You pout, your sniffles returning. Looking at him, you catch that otherwise undetected-by-most-people agenda that he pushes when he has to speak up about his feelings. 

It's as true as it can get; Katsuki hates to be the reason you shed tears. He hates to see you cry and he has to make sure you cheer up so he can sleep better tonight. Otherwise the guilt that'll start eating him away is going to be the root of an emotion that'll shutter his heart for good this time. 

You kiss him, slightly pecking his lips, and it's alright. It's fine. He's not the one responsible for your tears— he thinks. 

“Don't cry over a stupid movie too”

“You don’t get it,” you sniff, pulling a piece of toilet paper from the squashed roll on the couch next to you. “This movie—it’s not just sad. It’s like—” you gasp, clutching your chest dramatically. “It’s like someone reached into my soul and ripped it out! It’s—”

“—a movie,” he interrupts flatly, leaning back into the couch with a heavy sigh. His arm falls over the backrest, brushing your shoulder, and you can tell he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t care whether or not you snuggle back in. “That I'll turn off if you don't stop crying”

“I didn’t know it’d be like this!” you wail, grabbing the throw blanket and wrapping it around yourself like armor. “I thought it’d be... I dunno, like bittersweet at most. Not—” your voice breaks on another sob, and you bury your face into the blanket, muffling the rest of your sentence.

Katsuki lets out a long, exaggerated groan, but you don’t miss the way he leans toward you, resting his chin on his fist over your head, like he’s actually waiting for you to calm down. He won’t admit it—he’d rather bite his tongue off—but you know he likes it when you’re this messy around him, when you let him see all your raw, ugly bits.

“Shut up.” But you scoot closer anyway, your side pressing into his, and he doesn’t pull away this time. Instead, his arm falls naturally back over your shoulders, grounding you. “Let's just finish it”

With a deep, shuddering breath, you grab the remote, press play, and sink into him.

His arm doesn’t move far, just shifts slightly as if unsure whether to pull you closer or let you keep your space. But Katsuki isn’t one to stay unsure for long. His hand rests lightly on your shoulder, fingers brushing against your blanket cocoon, and you feel the heat radiating from him—steady, grounding, like a lifeline.

You stay snuggled like this for as long as the last act of the movie plays out; unsurprisingly you’re laid on his chest again, by the time the movie is finished.

The movie finally ends, the screen fading to black as the credits roll. The soft hum of the ending theme fills the room, and you let out a content sigh, your head still resting on Katsuki’s chest. His heart beats steadily beneath your ear, a soothing rhythm that makes your eyelids feel heavier by the second

“You’re such a crybaby,” he mutters, but his voice is softer this time, like he’s afraid of breaking the fragile moment. His red eyes flick to the TV screen, then back to your face, where the tears are still pooling right onto the middle of his shirt despite your best efforts to wipe them away. “Seriously. It’s just a movie.”

“It’s not just a movie!” you gasp, twisting to face him. The blanket slips off your shoulder, and he immediately pulls it back up with a small, exasperated huff. “Katsuki! It’s—” your voice wavers, cracking on a sob, “—it’s...

He stares at you for a moment, when you struggle to compose words in your sleepy state. 

The candlelight is making his features impossibly soft. For all his rough edges, there’s something boyish in the way his lips quirk into a half-smile, like he’s amused by your melodrama but doesn’t have the heart to call you out on it outright.

“You knew it was sad going in, though,” he points out, leaning back into the couch and casually draping his arm over your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I told you it’d be a tearjerker, and you were like, ‘No, Katsuki, let’s watch it anyway. I can handle it.’ And now look at you.”

“I didn’t know it’d be this sad!” you almost wail, clutching the edge of the blanket like it’s your only defense against the emotional onslaught. “I thought it’d be bittersweet, maybe a few tears. But this? This was—” you hiccup, your voice catching, “—soul-crushing!”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, but the small laugh that escapes him is warm, almost fond. “You’re so dramatic,” he says, but his hand starts rubbing small circles on your shoulder, the motion soothing despite his words. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” you gape at him, wiping your eyes with the corner of the blanket. “Did you see that last scene? Did you hear the song? It’s like they ripped my heart out and stomped on it, Katsuki. And you’re fine?”

“I’m not crying like a baby, if that’s what you mean,” he says smugly, but there’s a faint blush creeping up his neck, and you narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“You’re lying,” you accuse, leaning closer to squint at him. “You cried. I know you did.”

“I didn’t,” he insists, looking away too quickly to be convincing.

He looks at you with an all familiar pout; its a shame he took your sleepiness away.

“Liar!” You poke his cheek, and he swats your hand away, grumbling under his breath. But there’s a telltale softness in his expression now, one you’ve come to recognize as Katsuki’s version of letting his guard down. This time you won't tease him with the ‘are you leaving me’ joke, just because he shoved your hand away.

“Fine,” he mutters, finally meeting your gaze. “Maybe it was a little sad. But you’re the one who’s turned this into a whole production.” His hand squeezes your shoulder lightly, the gesture at odds with his teasing tone. “You gonna survive, or do I need to call an ambulance?”

“I’ll survive,” you mumble, leaning into his side and letting the warmth of him chase away the lingering ache in your chest. “But only if you let me pick the next movie for our day offs. Something happy this time.”

“Whatever,” he says, but his arm tightens around you, pulling you closer until your head is resting against his chest. “Just stop sniffling all over me.”

You let out a watery laugh, curling into him as the ending titles play on. And even though your heart still aches, it’s a little easier to bear with Katsuki by your side.

You sniffle, burying your face further into Katsuki’s chest, his familiar scent wrapping around you like a blanket. His hand moves absently, fingers threading through your hair in a way that’s far gentler than one would expect from someone so rough around the edges.

“You’re really pathetic, y’know that?” he murmurs, but there’s no bite in his words. Instead, his tone is warm, teasing, like he’s not-even-secretly pleased to have you curled up against him like this.

“And you’re a liar,” you shoot back, though it comes out muffled by his hoodie. “I felt you tense up during that scene with the surfboard. You totally cried.”

“Did not,” he grumbles, but the tips of his ears are bright pink, betraying him. “You were too busy bawling to notice anything.”

“I wasn’t bawling!” you protest, pulling back just enough to glare up at him. “I was… emotionally invested.”

“Sure,” he says, smirking down at you. But his hand doesn’t stop stroking your hair, and the corners of his eyes soften in that way they only do when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

You poke his chest playfully, your finger sinking into the soft fabric of his hoodie. “Admit it. You cried a little. Just a tiny bit.”

“Nope.”

“Not even when they sang together?”

“Not even then.”

“Not even when—” your voice cracks, and your eyes start welling up again. “When he—”

“Oi,” Katsuki interrupts quickly, pulling you back against him before you can spiral. “Don’t start again. You’re already dehydrated from all the crying you’ve done tonight.”

You laugh despite yourself, the sound breaking through your sniffles. “You’re the worst comforter ever.”

“And yet,” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your hair, tilting his head smugly, “here you are, clinging to me.”

“Because you’re warm,” you counter, wrapping your arms around his waist for emphasis, wiggling them just between his hoodie and the couch “And because you’re not as mean as you pretend to be and you looooove me”

“Tch.” He looks away, but his hand settles more firmly on your back, holding you close. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Might as well sleep on you right now”

Your words are like a child’s whine. You grab onto him for life and bury yourself further into him—so much that everything suddenly feels too soft, too warm. The notion of that heartbreaking movie is a thousand years away.

“Don’t fall asleep here,” Katsuki mutters, though he doesn’t make any move to push you away. “You’ll drool on me.”

“I don’t drool,” you mumble, already half-asleep again. “But even if I did, you’d deal with it because you love me.”

“Dumbass,” he grumbles, but when you feel him press the lightest of kisses to the top of your head, you know he doesn’t mean it.

The room falls into a tranquil silence, save for the designated trailers of movies that follow the credits of the one you just finished and the soft crackle of the candle on the coffee table. You shift slightly, nestling closer into Katsuki’s chest, and he doesn’t complain—just adjusts his arm to wrap more securely around you, like he’s silently resigned to being your personal heater for the rest of the night.

“You’re gonna fall asleep like this,” he mutters, though his voice is quieter now, softer. It almost sounds like he doesn’t mind.

“Maybe I will,” you murmur back, your words drowsy and slurred. “You’re comfy.”

“Don’t call me that,” he huffs, but his thumb brushes gently against your shoulder, a contrast to the gruffness in his voice.

You peek up at him, your cheek still squished against his hoodie. His face is half-lit by the warm glow of the candle, and you can see the faintest crease in his brow, like he’s still pretending to be annoyed even though his hand hasn’t stopped tracing soothing patterns on your back.

“You like it,” you tease, a small, sleepy smile tugging at your lips.

He looks down at you, his crimson eyes darkening with curiosity. “Like what?”

“Mmmm” You respond, sporting your tongue out. 

Sleepiness escapes you in an instant when you light bulbs above your head with a different, new and so very fresh thought about how the conversation is going to turn out. 

He knew that you would ask him this at a point anyway, the second he picked that damn movie.

“What would you do if you died and your best friend confessed to me like Wasabi did?”

You ask and Katsuki sighs, bringing his palm across his face to wipe his annoyance away from it.

And though you might be giggling in your skirts about it, all Katsuki can think of is—Where the fuck did this ever come from?

“I ain’t answering that, babe” he deadpans

“please please tell me”

Katsuki lets out a heavy sigh, the kind that makes it clear he’s already regretting entertaining this conversation, but for the sake of you being sleepy and whiny he will—good news for the weird girlfriend community but you just made it!

Katsuki’s face contorts in concern for a moment as he looks at your mischief expression. His hand stays pressed against his face for a moment before dragging it down, revealing the faintest furrow of his brows and a glare that’s more exasperated than genuine.

He so knows you’re never giving up on this.

You sit up slightly, propping your chin on his chest and giving him your best —sleep-ish— puppy-dog eyes. Katsuki groans, tilting his head back like he’s praying for patience, but his arm stays firmly around your waist, keeping you close.

“I ain’t answering that, babe,” he repeats, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“But it’s important!” you whine, poking his chest with your finger. “What if your best friend pulled a Wasabi and told me they loved me after you—” your voice falters, “—you know, weren’t around anymore?”

His vermillion eyes snap down to meet yours, narrowing slightly. “First of all, I’m not dying anytime soon, so quit it with the depressing crap.”

“Katsuki!” you pout, smacking his shoulder lightly. “Just humor me!”

He sighs, dragging his palm down his face again, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Fine,” he mutters. “If some idiot—bitch ass idiot may I add—tried to pull that move, I’d haunt his ass. Forever.”

You snort, your pout quickly replaced by a grin. “You’d haunt them? Like, spooky ghost noises and knocking things off shelves?”

“Damn right I would,” he says, smirking now. “I’d make sure they can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t do anything without thinking about how badly they screwed up.”

“That’s so petty,” you tease, laughing softly.

“You asked,” he counters, shrugging one shoulder. “Besides, they’d deserve it. You’re mine, and even if I wasn’t here, that wouldn’t change. Did I mention there’d be a lot of blood apart for spooky noises?”

Your cheeks feel warm at the possessiveness in his tone, but there’s an unexpected warmth in it too, something that makes your heart flutter despite the ridiculousness of the conversation.

“You’re so dramatic.” you say, trying to suppress your smile.

“Says the one who cried through a whole ass movie,” he shoots back, leaning down so your noses almost touch. “But I mean it. Doesn’t matter what happens—I’m always gonna be yours and you’re not losing me anytime soon, got it?”

“Got it,” you whisper, your voice softer now. Oh that pout of his right now would have you haunting anyone for him as well. “Me too”

“Good,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, lower lip lingering on the spot for a second too long, before flopping back against the couch. “Now quit asking dumb questions and let me enjoy the peace and quiet for five fucking seconds.”

But you can’t stop smiling as you snuggle back into his chest, feeling more loved than ever—even if Katsuki would never admit it outright.

You nuzzle closer, your cheek pressed against his chest as his heartbeat thumps steadily beneath your ear. His hand resumes its place in your hair, lazily twisting strands between his fingers. The room feels softer now, wrapped in a blanket of warmth that’s entirely him.

“You’d really haunt them?” you ask again, your voice a playful whisper.

“Damn straight,” he mutters, but his tone is lighter, like he’s secretly amused by how seriously you’re taking this. “They’d regret it the second they even thought about pulling something like that.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggle, your fingers tracing small patterns over his hoodie. “But I guess it’s kinda sweet. In a ‘territorial ghost’ kind of way.”

“Sweet?” he echoes, scoffing, but the way his hand shifts to cradle the back of your head says otherwise. “You’re so weird. Who calls haunting someone sweet?”

“You’re not just haunting anyone,” you point out, grinning against his chest. “You’re haunting them for me. It’s romantic, in a twisted Katsuki kind of way.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “If you’re gonna call me romantic, at least don’t add the ‘twisted’ part.”

“I’d simply haunt you if I were in your place” you tease, tilting your head up to look at him. His face softens as his eyes meet yours, the usual sharpness of his gaze melting into something warmer.

His hand freezes for a moment before he lets out a quiet sigh, his breath ruffling your hair. “You’re ridiculous, there’s no place that I’m in for you to take it. Also what the hell… Me? What for?” he says, but there’s no heat in the words. If anything, there’s a hint of something softer, like he’s given up on trying to act tough. Like he’s genuinely curious as well.

“So I can be with you forever”

Katsuki clicks his tongue to sound displeased, but his grip tightens around you. He takes a deep breath—one that makes you move along with his chest— as in to erase any horrible thought that might have sparked from your interaction.

Sleepiness drowns him like the depths of a river.

You tilt your head back at the realisation, grinning up at him. “Say say…”

“Sleep.”

“Nooooo one more question”

He grumbles, shifting so that you’re more snugly tucked against him and closes his eyes. His other hand grabs the remote and lowers the volume on the TV, the credits now nothing more than a faint background hum.

“Shhh, the next number one hero needs to sleep”

“More like number thirteen. And that’s pushing it”

His left eye flutters open at your giggling “Huh? I’ll kill you” he barks and you burst out laughing. “Just let me sleep woman”

“But Katsuki,” you say with a mischievous grin, tilting your head to look up at him, “which one of your friends would ever do such a thing?”

“Stop”

Katsuki groans, his head falling back against the couch like he can’t believe you’re still going at it. “None of those idiots would dare,” he mutters, but there’s a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he knows exactly where this is headed.

“Oh, come on,” you tease, poking his chest lightly for the uptenth time. “What about Kirishima? He’s your best friend. You think he’d confess to me?”

Katsuki snaps his head down to glare at you, his red eyes narrowing. “Kirishima? His bitch ass would probably cry over the idea of it being disrespectful or some crap like that.” 

Giggling impossibly hard, you wipe a tear from your eye, grinning up at him. 

“He doesn’t even have the guts to take the last slice of pizza when we’re all hanging out. He’s not confessing to anyone”

You’re laughing so hard now that you’re practically wheezing, and Katsuki’s smirk has turned into a full-blown grin despite himself. He shakes his head, his hand coming up to rest on your back, rubbing small circles as if to keep you from laughing yourself into oblivion.

“You’re seriously nuts, you know that?” he says, but his voice is warm, and there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Maybe,” you gasp, finally calming down enough to speak. “But…  this is fun.”

“You’re right. It’s only fun for you” he sighs “And for the record, none of those extras would stand a chance with you. Not while I’m around.”

You grin, your heart swelling at the certainty in his voice. He huffs, rolling his eyes, but the way he tugs you closer tells you he doesn’t mind. 

“If it was Izuku?” you ask, your grin turning so sly as you watch Katsuki’s expression darken instantly. His hand freezes on your back, and his red eyes narrow into slits, the annoyance practically radiating off him in waves.

“Deku? Nuh uh, no way in hell.”

You bite back a laugh, trying to keep your composure. “Why not? He’s sweet, polite, and—”

“Don’t even start,” Katsuki interrupts, his voice low and dangerous. “Deku wouldn’t have the guts, for one. And even if he did, I’d—” He stops, his jaw clenching as if the thought is too ridiculous to finish.

“You’d what?” you ask innocently, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him.

He glares down at you, his face redder than usual. “I’d beat the crap outta him, that’s what.”

“As a ghost?”

“Hell yeah”

You can’t help but burst into laughter at the image of ghost Katsuki chasing poor Izuku around like a storm cloud of fury. “Katsuki, he’s your childhood friend! You wouldn’t really beat him up, would you?”

“Try me,” he growls, crossing his arms over his chest like a stubborn child. “If he even thought about it, I’d make sure he never forgot his place.”

“His place?” you echo, grinning. “What, at the bottom of your imaginary pecking order?”

“Exactly,” Katsuki huffs. “Deku doesn’t have the balls, and even if he did, you’d never go for him. Right?”

There it is—the smallest flicker of insecurity hidden beneath his usual bravado. It tugs at your heart, making you soften instantly.

“Of course not,” you say gently, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I don’t want Izuku. I want you, Katsuki.”

His eyes widen slightly at your words before he looks away, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Tch. Damn right you do.”

“Always baby” You smile, settling back against his chest as his arm slides back around your waist, pulling you close. “But for the record, I don’t think Izuku would ever confess to me. He’d be too worried about hurting your feelings.”

“Damn right he would,” Katsuki mutters, but his tone is lighter now, the tension in his shoulders easing “and you’re not funny by the way”

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it,” you tease, resting your chin on his chest. “I’m funny and you hate being wrong.”

“Damn right I do,” he says, smirking again. “You’re still not funny though. I ain’t wrong about that.”

You look up at him, your eyes wide and playful, your lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Katsuki," you tease, “I’ll be so funny now, promise” stroking his chest lightly as you speak "say... would you still love me if a villain turned me into a worm?"

Katsuki freezes for a moment, his brows furrowing in confusion, clearly not expecting the question. His eyes turn over to you, narrowing in the way they do when he's trying to figure out whether you're joking or if you're actually serious, only to find you trying to suppress a laugh.

And here he thought you were having a moment.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" he grumbles, but his tone isn't as harsh as usual—there’s a small glimmer of curiosity in his voice. His hand runs through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as if he’s trying to decide whether to humor you still, or not.

"But seriously," you prod, giving him your best doe-eyed look, the one you know always gets to him. The one from before. "If some villain took me and turned me into a little squirmy worm, would you still love me? Or would you just—what—leave me on the sidewalk to get stepped on and squished by some random person?"

His eyes widen at the thought of this even being an actual possibility—you being a worm. The horror on his face is too much, and you start giggling at the image of Katsuki having to deal with a tiny worm version of you. At the sight of you looking so enthusiastic, he grimaces in disgust first and then his face contorts into frustration.

“Don’t make that face and sayyy”

“Tch... If someone turned you into a damn worm,” he mutters “I’d punch that villain straight into the ground. Then I’d find some way to turn you back into a human. And if that didn’t work, I’d... I’d put ya in a jar or something. Keep you safe ‘n shit.”

You giggle again, completely delighted by his determination. "You’d carry me around in that jar too for dates?" you ask.

"Yeah, no" he grumbles, his voice thick with seriousness. "I’d find some damn way to make sure you're okay. No villain’s gonna turn you into some stupid worm. And you sure as hell ain’t getting squished.”

“But would you still love me?” You chuckle softly, pressing your lips to his chest. "I just wanna know”

“Yeah…”

“You’re so ridiculous, for answering” you tease, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. “But I guess if I ever get turned into a worm, I’m glad I have you to save me.”

“Don’t joke about that,” he mutters, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck. “You’re not gonna be some damn worm. I’d make sure of it.”

You smile up at him, snuggling back into his chest. "I know you would. Because you’d loooove me, worm or not."

Katsuki huffs, but this time, there’s no denying the soft, fond smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming. Idiot ass.”

You can’t help but grin as you hear his words. His tone is gruff, as if he’s trying to play it cool, but there’s no missing the softness behind them.

“I’d love you if you were a worm, by the way” Katsuki hears you clear as day;  his gaze still slightly averted like he’s trying to hide how seriously he means it. “I’d even feed you your greens.”

His eyes widen in mock surprise, and you give him a playful shove. “Greens? You’d feed me, a worm, actual greens?”

He looks like he’s about to roll his eyes, but then he catches your grin, and his mouth tightens, clearly trying not to smile. “Yeah, you ass. I’d go out and get the best damn salad for you. Spinach, lettuce, whatever the hell worms eat—if I have to be a worm’s personal chef, so be it.”

“But what if I want my green juice one day and I can’t tell you?” He asks and you cringe at the memory of the taste of that atrocious juice. “With a scoop of protein in it”

“I’d sense it and squish you” you deadpan instantly and he grins in response “I don’t want a fucking farty worm Katsuki. You’re already all that in your human form”

“Shut the fuck up cause you’re lying right now”

“Now that’s a loving boyfriend”

He doesn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you think he’s going to ignore you completely and finally go to sleep, too fed up with your silliness. But then he mutters something so low you almost miss it. “I love you, asshole, ain’t have to ask me all this shit for me to tell you”

“You called me an asshole.” You pout. “Like you don’t like it”

“Yeah, yeah. I like it. Happy now?”

Your smile widens, and you press your face into his chest to hide your excitement. “Very happy.” Wait–but maybe, this is the spot you wiped your nose earlier?

“Good.” He pulls the blanket tighter around the both of you, his chin resting lightly on top of your head. “Now shut up and sleep, idiot.”

You let his words settle over you, warm and weighty, and your eyes finally feel relaxed. Even the soft vibration of his chest as he clears his throat doesn’t startle you.

“Wanna go to bed?” You mumble out, voice barely above a whisper.

“Nah, I don’t wanna move”

“Okay then”

Katsuki’s grip on you shifts, his fingers flexing as he drags you even closer, chest to chest, until there’s barely space to breathe between you. You sleepily coo into him, into that calming heat that only he emits, wrapping the blanket impossibly tight around you and him. The tip of your tongue is sweet with the lingering syllables of a ‘goodnight’ that is exchanged.

Barely fazed by sleep, your fingers trace light circles on him, teasing circles along his ribs.

It’s such a simple thing. Barely a touch at all–but that’s what does it for him. That’s what makes something inside him snap into his usual malevolent self. 

His face lights up like he’s a super villain having just executed his masterplan.

Peacefulness hangs between you for half a second and then his grip on your waist tightens. It’s sharp and sudden. His head tilts, eyes narrowing slightly, even if there’s something dark and thrilled swimming beneath that nightly dulled vermillion.

You don’t react at first, just let your fingers keep moving against his ribs, slow and featherlight. But you feel it, in the way his breath hitches for just a fraction of a second. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your hoodie, teasing against bare skin.

Did you just fucking get him in the mood? 

Katsuki exhales sharply through his nose—almost a laugh. He looks down at you, his eyes softening as he moves a piece of your hair behind your ear. His voice is quieter this time. “Say babe,” he whispers, his lips cuing at the edges of his mouth “would you still love me if I fucked you on all fours with my foot on your head while you’re asleep?”

He has such a nice way of making you feel more cherished than anyone else ever could.

“I’d marry you, by the way”

Silence lingers, stretching between you both. It’s like his breath hitches for just a moment, but his eyes narrow at the sudden confession, as if weighing whether you’re teasing or serious.

“Oh yeah?” His voice is rougher now, lower, dangerous in a way that makes your heart race, despite the sleepiness. He pulls you in closer, his body shifting beneath yours, his heat sinking into your skin. “Pull those fucking panties to the side before you fall asleep."

~All rights reserved: @/strawberry-nugget, 2025. Please do not copy, over write or steal my work.

Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated equally💙

[lucid-loves]

Hi there!

🍄💛-anon here

I’m recently new to your bling and have to say that I absolutely love love LOVE your writing style, word choice, and plot structure. It is so interesting to read these stories recently while I’m off on break.

Now onto the real thing: I don’t know if you’re requests are open but I cannot get out of my head y/n seeing ghost go berserk for the first time because someone injured them either during training, while flirting with them and they reject it, or during a actual mission. Once y/n gets better she tells ghost that it was hot and spicy stuff happens (or not completely up to you).

If requests aren’t open please just ignore this. Have a great day!

-🍄💛!

Sorry for such a late reply. A lot of things going on in my life, one of which was moving into my own place! Anyway, here's a story that I hope satisfies that itch in your brain~

Down With Your Love

Pairing: Ghost x sick!reader (fem!reader, 141!reader, callsign “Moth”)

Word Count: 9.8k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, angst, violence, blood, fluff, attraction, one-shot, reader POV and Ghost POV, minors DNI, EXPLICIT SMUT, P in V, passionate kisses, hickeys, oral, praise kink, passionate sex, possessive sex

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: You are one of the new recruits that have been trying to prove yourself on base. Every day you have been pushing yourself to achieve your goals and stand out amongst your peers. However, you pushed yourself too hard and woke up one morning with a fever. On sparring day monitored by Ghost of all days. Ghost, a man that has had his eye on you for several reasons, steps more into your life as he determines that if you won’t take care of yourself, he will do it for you.

As soon as you came back to the realm of daylight, you knew that you were sick. Last night’s sleep was spotty at best, moments here and there of waking up with a creeping ache, heated turn, or throbbing headache that followed you into your dreams. Your mouth was drier than the canteen’s toast, the world spinned on a slow record, and god, your head wouldn’t stop pounding. 

You groaned as your eyes adjusted to the sunlight pouring through your barrack window, the annoying buzz of your alarm clock sending wave after wave of ache through your delicate skull. It was always way too early to do anything, but it was especially too early to even wake up with a fever that stuck to your skin. 

Turning in your firm bed took a lot of energy out of you alone, but you had to get up. You didn’t have the luxury of calling in sick. You were a newer recruit, eager to prove yourself and earn a spot into one of the more elite task forces. If you were to call in sick today, on sparring day of all days, everyone would think that you chickened out. You’d rather eat your boots than have anyone think that of you.

Pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, you got dressed and ready for what was no doubt going to be a long day. You wiped the sweat off your forehead with a soft cloth before heading out, joining the throng of recruits making their way to breakfast.

Who knows, maybe all you needed was something in your stomach to lift your spirits. As you got closer to the canteen, the typical smell of bland eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast filled your nose. Your stomach flipped violently as the scent, your body revolting against even the notion of food now that you could smell it. Feeling dizzy, you leaned against the wall to catch your breath. A couple of on-lookers glanced your way, but ultimately decided to mind their own business.

Well, you couldn’t not eat. You needed something light at least. Maybe some ice cold orange juice with toast topped with jam. Or perhaps some oatmeal with sweet brown sugar and a banana. You felt your stomach ease some at the thought of an easier, lighter breakfast.

Once you caught your breath, you headed in, bracing yourself against the onslaught of voices rumbling for the new day. The sound of everyone chatting and chewing at once made you wince in pain. What wouldn’t you give for just a second of peace and quiet right now. 

As you expected, the line for the oatmeal was short. Many of the soldiers, mostly men, often opted for the usual hearty breakfast packed with protein. You preferred that kind of breakfast too most days, but not today. Instead, you scooped a medium portion of sticky, warm oatmeal into a cheap white bowl. The smell was a breath of fresh air compared to the fatty stench that permeated throughout the canteen. The brown sugar began to melt into the oats rapidly while you grabbed a banana and fresh orange juice. 

You took your usual seat in the back corner, no one inviting you over or joining you. Not that you minded. You usually kept to yourself, slipping under the radar of a lot of social circles. Not that you were anti-social, but you preferred quietness when you could get it. Ever since joining the base, it’s been nonstop activity with testing, working out, training, and talking. Pushing yourself to the limits with everything that landed on your plate probably caused you to get sick in the first place.

There wasn’t much choice though if you wanted to survive, to stand out amongst all of the recruits that joined with you. You wanted to be elite. Someone that could hold their own on the field. Not who you were now.

That’s why it was so important to attend the sparring today. That, and the fact that the base’s best was leading it.

Thinking of the devil, in walked the guys that everyone wanted to be. The 141. Countless missions, countless successes. Some of what they accomplished sounded straight from some hero comic book. There was a buzz wherever they walked. Everyone gave their utmost respect when they passed. 

And that’s exactly where you want to be. 

You played it cool, only sparing a quick look in respectful acknowledgment, before turning back to focus on holding down your oatmeal. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, your instincts telling you that someone was staring at you. Slowly, you looked around the room to see if your hunch was right. 

Maybe your fever was making you paranoid. 

You finished up your breakfast, downed your orange juice like your life depended on it, and rushed to leave. A little break in the Records Room would probably be good for you before the sparring class began.

Little did you know that you were being watched. Watched by someone you would never expect either. Ghost, the man, the myth, the legend, watched you hustle out with a slightly more rock in your step than usual. He found your breakfast of choice this morning odd as well. 

Ever since you joined the base, he’s had his eye on you. He was stuck in a meeting room with large windows overlooking the base. He was bored out of his mind as the higher-ups droned on about statistics he didn’t care about one bit. He was a man of action. He delivered the results, not analyzed them. 

He had settled on people watching to entertain himself. He saw the bus pull up, dumping fresh meat onto the mass of concrete that was home to everyone here. A sadistic side of him enjoyed seeing the wide-eyes and hopeful smiles. He loved breaking them. Make them realize that this shit was no joke. He also liked seeing them filter out over time, making those that didn’t belong call it quits.

It was easy for him to pick out the ones that thought they were hot shit. Smirks, muscles meant to show off rather than be functional, side-checks against the recruits they thought were in the way. Those were always the most fun breaking. The military was no walk in the park.

But then, you stepped off the bus. Your hair was military tight, as it should be. Spick, span, and way to pretty to be here. You had a hard look, taking everything with a serious attitude, committing everything to memory so you didn’t look too foolish as you navigated around the first few days. 

He had blinked a few times, hardly believing that a beauty like you wanted to be here. As soon as the meeting was over, he found your file. You had big dreams. Almost all new recruits did, but your aspirations were motivated by something more than just wanting to tell people what to do. 

You had people to save. To do that, you need strength and power.

He could relate.

Since then, he’s been checking your progress subtly. Your test scores have been great and only improving with each month. Your aim has been getting much better since your first day. You have been doing good with building up your muscles and stamina too. As far as he could tell, you were adjusting well and taking care of yourself.

Except maybe for today.

It was odd to see you eat so light to start off your day. You seemed tired as well. Late night studying? Not wanting to spar on a full stomach? That would be smart. You seemed like the type to consider something smart like that as well.

For now, he let it go, chalking it all up to you just needing a little more sleep tonight. He was sure that you had the sense to take a break if you needed it.

~

You sat in the back corner of the gym, keeping yourself away from as many warm bodies as possible. Christ, you were on fire. Your head felt heavy too as you cooled it against the brick wall. You took a deep breath, trying to stop your heart from feverishly racing. Please, just last until after class.

Ghost walked into the class, everyone standing to salute, including yourself despite how much you felt the room blur. When he signaled for ease, you gladly took your seat. 

“Sparring day. You’ve been training with bags and instructors up to this point. Now, you train with each other. No pull backs, no instructions. You will bruise. You will ache. It’s better than being dead on a field, so be grateful. First up, Blue and Jets.” The lieutenant commanded right away. The recruits exchanged worried looks as the first two victims got up. 

You watched the men circle each other, trying to read each other’s movements before striking. Blue, the recruit nicknamed after the constant blues music coming from his room, made the first advance. An attempted straight punch to the chest to knock his opponent off his feet. Jets back stepped just in time and grabbed the arm, twisting it to pin Blue down. 

As the men continued to tackle one another, you felt your eyelids get heavy. The break in the Records Room was short-lived, people coming in and out to find important information. You pinched your thigh hard to stay awake.

After the two men were done throwing fists, the next couple of recruits were called up. Then another. Then another, each called by the moniker if they already earned one. You suppressed a yawn and kept your head up despite how hot your body burned. 

Finally, it was your turn. “Moth, you’re up against Will.”

You got up a little too fast, the world smearing before your eyes as you made your way to the mat. No one seemed to notice that you were sick thanks to how you stubbornly maintained your composure. Solid stance. Hard eyes. Purposefully slowed breath. Yeah, your body was screaming for you to lay down, but you weren’t a quitter.

Ghost watched you carefully, noticing how your usually smooth movements were just slightly choppy. It was a millisecond delay that didn’t seem significant to everyone else, but could mean life or death if this wasn’t practice. Nervous, perhaps? 

Your opponent rushed forward, banking on his strength to overpower yours. Even if you weren’t sick, it would have worked. While you worked hard to build more of that physical power, you could never measure up to the strength of some of these men. Your body wasn’t built for it. Instead, you relied on stamina, quick reflexes, and proper timing to gain the upper hand.

With a quick sidestep and lean, you dodged the first attack. A surging headache washed over your skull as if someone took a hammer to it. The world went white for a second. A second too long. You lost your balance in your momentum, allowing an opening for your opponent to land a blow. 

A terrible, agonizing pain immediately spread across your face. Your cheek was sure to bruise and blood began pouring out of your nose. You tasted metal on your tongue, a disgusting flavor that almost purged your breakfast right there. God, was this what dying felt like? 

Your body finally checked out, your vision turning black through forceful rest. You were plunged so deep into a sleep that not even the yelling in the room registered in your exhausted brain. 

As soon as Ghost saw you lose your balance, he knew that something was wrong. Everything happened so fast. Your stagger, the punch, the fall, the blood. The horrific fire bubbling in his soul at seeing you get hurt burst like a volcano once he realized that you weren’t getting up. 

“What the fuck do you think you are doing, recruit?!” He began to scream as he touched your forehead. Bloody hell, you were scorching. Why did you even get out of bed this morning?!

“Wh-What?! I-I didn’t know she was sick!” He began to defend himself, his face flushing as he realized what he has done to you. So much blood pooled on the mat from your nose. It wasn’t broken, but it was damn hurt.

Ghost shot him a deadly glare, not tolerating his excuse. His gaze then settled on everyone else. They shifted uncomfortably, unsure why they were also receiving some grief for something only one recruit did. “Did no one in this room fucking notice that their comrade was ill?!”

His voice came out like gravel, striking their hearts with fear and guilt. They looked at each other, knowing that either answer was the wrong answer. There was no escaping whatever punishment they had to face.

“But, Lieutenant, Moth should’ve stayed in bed if they were sick, right? Is that really our fault?” One recruit piped up, earning some angry scowls as he dug everyone’s grave. They felt the same way, but they would have never said it out loud.

Ghost clenched his jaw tight, embers burning within his eyes that only seemed more deadly with the skull fastened to his mask. He recognized this guy. One of the hot-shots that was in it for his ego. He couldn’t help himself from standing up from your side, strolling over to the boy, and socking him right in the stomach. 

He keeled over, gasping for air with tears threatening to spill. Everyone didn’t even dare to come to his aid. “All of you are responsible for your comrades! If your comrade is sick or hurt, it is part of your duty as a soldier to notice! Do I make myself clear?!”

“Yes, Lieutenant!” The recruits responded in sync. The notion that it was every man for themself was snuffed out immediately. It almost always only took one example to whip everyone into shape. 

“Burpees for everyone and don’t you dare stop. I will know if you do.” He finally commanded. While everyone got to their exercises, Ghost gingerly lifted you up in his arms to take you to the infirmary. Light as a feather and burning with fever. Not even ovens burned as hot as you did right now. Your class was responsible for noticing your illness, but that wasn’t to say that Ghost didn’t also blame you for this. 

You should have stayed in bed today.

~

Hours passed since you first knocked out. The sky was a lazy purple-pink haze, the sun plunging everything into a golden hour. It was the only time of day where all the drab military colors of the base seemed pretty. Your body was sore, your face painfully bruised. The fever dropped some, but not enough to warrant getting back to work tomorrow. 

You tried to sit up slowly, feeling a damp, cold cloth fall off your forehead in the process. A large, gloved hand settled on your shoulder to guide you back down. “You need more rest.”

“L-Lieutenant?” You nearly gasped when you recognized the voice. Turning your head, you confirmed that it really was your Lieutenant sitting next to you, not some fever dream. Your heart quickened as he took the cloth, the scent of his cologne becoming apparent. You would think that he would smell like sweat and gunpowder. Yet, it was the opposite. Clean laundry, fresh oak, smoldering sage.

“In the flesh. You’re still warm. Been asleep for hours now. You should listen to your body when you need a break.” He briefed you. His tone was mixed with a chastise and relief as he soaked the cloth in fresh, cool water. 

A deep sigh escaped your lips as the wrung-out cloth was placed back on your forehead. “My apologies, Lieutenant. I won’t let it happen again.”

Somehow, he doubted that. He thought that you would have been smart enough to know better before, but not anymore. Now he knew that you were stubborn when it came to your health. It only took this instance to know that. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Sir?” You scrunched your brows, unsure of what he meant by that. Instead of elaborating, he just took his seat again. You noticed the indent in it before he sat.

“Why they call you Moth?” He suddenly asked. He didn’t normally care about how people earned their moniker. Sure, he could be a little curious if it was strange, though  he still tended to not dig deep into business that wasn’t his. 

When it came to you, he wanted to know everything. Especially how a pretty thing like you got this nickname instead of its more beautiful counterpart; Butterfly.

It felt odd to have such a casual conversation with your higher up. Or rather, it felt odd to have a casual conversation with Ghost. You could picture yourself being at ease with someone like Price or Soap, who outranked you, due to how approachable they were. Ghost was never seen casually socializing with anyone but his team normally.

What made you different?

“I rescue a lot of moths that get trapped inside. Someone caught me releasing some outside in the middle of night and the name stuck.” You confessed. You released any bug that was found inside back outside, especially moths. 

Your habits were moth-like, too. You liked to stay up late, finding yourself at your most productive while the world was asleep. You liked warmth and comfy sweaters. Not that anyone but you knew that. You were hesitant to reveal that to your lieutenant as well. 

Ghost couldn’t suppress the smirk forming on his face. Thank god it was hidden under his mask. For a moment, he thought that you were quite precious for displaying such kindness. Most people would kill or ignore the pests that come in. “Qualities of a good leader.”

“Sir?”

“Looking out for the weak. Taking initiative despite what people think. You just gotta learn to take care of yourself more.” He both complemented and scolded, earning a small smile from you. Seeing those pearly white of yours made his heart flutter. Even with a bruising face, you were still the most beautiful woman he’s met. 

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be comfortable enough with Ghost to crack a smile in his presence. Slowly getting more comfortable with him, you allow yourself to relax in the infirmary bed. Your headache began to dull as you took a deep breath. 

“Good girl.” Ghost praised naturally, blush infecting your cheeks to blend with your fever. It was completely unfair that his voice was so deep and smooth for you. You wondered if he talked to other recruits like this. 

The both of you sat like this for a while. Quiet. Resting. Ghost crossed his arms over his chest and learned back. He didn’t have to be here anymore. The both of you knew that. Yet, he wanted to stay. He was determined to stay by your side until you were ready for dinner and then tucked into your own bed. He hasn’t even checked on the recruits doing burpees. Someone would’ve probably relieved them of their exercises after a while, not that he cared. He just hoped they learned their lesson.

As the sun began to dip lower towards the horizon, your stomach grumbled, the oatmeal breakfast long gone at this point. Ghost immediately stood up to get you something to eat. “Any dietary restrictions?”

“No. Just something light?” You answered, surprised that he was going this far to take care of you. If you were slow and steady, you would’ve been able to get up and make your way to the canteen yourself. You weren’t going to argue with your superior, though.

The room was peacefully quiet as you waited for Ghost to return. The light hum of the air conditioner was white noise within your ears, making you close to dozing off once again. Carefully, you sat up in bed, propping yourself up using the pillow and wall behind you. You watched a few soldiers walk across base, killing time before calling it a night. 

You could smell the chicken soup from down the hall, a salty, savory scent that made your stomach grumble. Just as expected, Ghost was considerate in choosing your dinner given your health. “Chicken and rice with crackers. Gotcha a ginger-ale too. Think you can stomach it?”

“I can. Thank you, Lieutenant.” You graciously accepted as you watched Ghost set everything on a rolling table for you. He stayed while you ate, making light conversations, getting to know you. 

The more he talked with you, the deeper he fell. You were strong, intelligent, and beautiful, a perfect trifecta. At the same time, your crush grew every time Ghost demonstrated his approval of something. Whether it was your opinion or observation, he gave an accepting nod of respect. Every now and then, you could see the corner of his eye crinkle slightly, indicating at least a smirk under that mask. 

Once you were done, Ghost took your clean bowl back to the canteen. While you waited, you prepared yourself to make your way back to your room for the night. By the time your superior returned, you were ready to head back.

“You’re gonna rest, right?”

“Yes, sir. I won’t be coming to training tomorrow.” You reassured, Ghost having insisted on escorting you through the base just in case you were feeling weak mid-walk.

He hummed in approval. “Good girl.”

Damn, that still made you blush like mad. You hid your cheeks as best you could behind your hair, but Ghost still spotted the red that graced the tips of your ears. He suppressed a chuckle, finding it cute how you blushed at his praise.

He liked women that liked to be praised.

You felt awkward when you finally reached your door. What do you say now? Saying a simple thanks seemed cheap for some reason. He looked out for you the whole day. But, it wasn’t like this was a date that deserved a goodbye kiss. Besides that, he was still your superior. 

Thankfully, Ghost could sense your apprehension. He made the goodbye for you. “Get some sleep now, Moth. I won’t be seeing you tomorrow.”

You gave a short giggle that had his heart leap. Finally, you laughed for him. It was much prettier than he imagined it to be. “Sounds ominous when you say it like that. Thank you for everything, Lieutenant. Have a good night.”

~

As promised, you didn’t show up for training the following day. Ghost was both pleased and disappointed by your absence. He already somehow missed your presence. To keep his mind off you, he worked the recruits hard, still punishing them for their neglect of you. Has he ever been this tough on recruits like this? No. How else were they gonna learn, though?

The basic training didn’t stop until he heard groans of complete exhaustion. Exhaustion strong enough to have their knees weak. When he finally let them have a break, many of them just crashed on the floor mats. 

The following day, you showed up, body lighter and healthier than ever. It seemed that your body really needed that break. Now that you were back, you were determined to demonstrate to your class that you weren’t as fragile as you seemed to be when you collapsed. 

When you did rejoin the class, you earned a few scowls, still blaming you for all of the work they have had to do recently. Ghost noticed, but bit his tongue as you brushed it all off. In fact, when it was time to spar, you volunteered to go first. He was a bit hesitant to throw you into the ring so quickly, yet he couldn’t deny the determined look on your face.

Your movements were fast and purposeful, no energy wasted. Dodges were perfectly timed, giving you an opportunity to spot your opponent’s weak points. A little too much weight on one foot. A too consistent pattern of attacks. You read them all like open books once they threw a few punches. 

You didn’t need to be the strongest, just the smartest. Ghost was thoroughly impressed and attracted. He knew in that moment of pinning another classmate to the ground that he had to have you. 

~ 

You had been Ghost’s personal protege for a few months. When the offer came up, you couldn’t say no. It was a dream come true to be recognized by someone you admired so much. Not that you were treated much more special compared to your class in terms of training. You actually trained twice as hard as them to prove your discipline. It was only in private that you were treated “special.”

And by “special,” it was really just being able to enjoy more personal conversations with your superiors. It wasn’t just Ghost that talked to you, it was also the rest of the 141. Of course, they were keen on getting to know you as soon as they heard that Ghost took you on as your protege. It was rare when someone caught Ghost’s eye, let alone a recruit. 

When they saw you in action at the various training facilities, they couldn’t deny your raw talent.

Breakfast was less lonely now that you had people to enjoy it with, the 141 taking it upon themselves to include you when they could. More responsibilities, more conversations, more opportunities. It seemed that getting sick was the best thing that happened to you oddly enough.

You really knew that they took you seriously when you were formally asked to come with them on a mission. Nothing too intense. Basic undercover to retrieve some highly sensitive information. If you did well and pulled more than your weight, it could potentially slingshot you into a permanent spot among the 141 team.

Like hell you were going to let this opportunity pass you by. 

“You feeling alright, Moth?” Ghost spoke into your ear, the sound of his voice crystal clear through the earpiece. It sent chills through you to hear it so close.

“Slight jitters, but nothing I can’t handle, sir.” You spoke honestly, tipping your baseball cap further to cover your face. The target was moving casually, not noticing that they were being tailed along the busy street. It was a dinner rush hour with plenty of people walking, so it was easy to blend in with the crowd.

“Deep breaths. You got this. Eye on the prize.” He continued to talk you through it, watching you from across the street where he also stayed undercover. It wasn’t that he doubted your capabilities, but anything could happen. He felt personally responsible for you too. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him, for good or for worse.

Another voice chimed in. A friendly voice laced with a thick Scottish accent that you had come to recognize. “The both of you got this. Now, less flirting, more sneaking.”

The tips of your ears turned red at the insinuation. Ghost gruffed in response, neither denying or confirming that he was flirting in the first place. When it came to you and how differently Ghost treated you, he was always flirting in his own way.

The target began to weave through the crowd to reach the exchange point. You noticed the fabric of their jean pockets shift, their hands fiddling with what was no doubt the flash drive you needed. Keeping a safe distance, you followed. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Ghost also keeping pace across the street. 

No sudden movements. Blend in. Don’t stare. The target looked around every now and then, pretending to read shop signs for the place they were looking for. You knew they were just checking to see if they were being followed. You took a deep breath, nerves jumping as their eyes passed over you.

No, you were safe. Written off as just another pedestrian making their way to a casual, late dinner. This was fine. You’re fine.

The target turned the corner into an alleyway. You lingered back, knowing that you would be caught immediately if you were to go after them too quickly. After about a minute, you cautiously peered around the corner. You spotted the familiar red jacket further down the alley. Listening carefully, you determined that the target was alone. 

If this was the exchange spot, the buyer wasn’t here yet. Perhaps this was your chance to apprehend the target and take that drive. 

As quietly as you could, you stealthily snuck up on the target. It was going to be a quick knockout. Everything was planned to a tee. Yet, nothing could have prepared you for an accomplice to warn the target of your approach. Before you could react, the target turned and pistol whipped you hard against your temple. 

Your vision went dark, a horrible deja vu washing over you. A worse one. This wasn’t some sparring match on the gym’s base. This was real. This was your life on the line. Maybe you weren’t ready for this. Maybe all of the talent you had only worked in a controlled setting. 

Maybe Ghost was wrong. 

In your haze, you saw the barrel aimed at your head. A quick roll over saved you from an early grave, but you weren’t fast enough in getting up. The gun went off in your shoulder, a silencer protecting the conflict from the public. A sharp pain that spread like wildfire burned your shoulder. Blood began to pool against your clothes. No amount of washing could possibly get it all out. 

You didn’t yell. You winced from the pain, but there was no screaming. Your adrenaline was kicking your brain into high gear in order to survive. Grabbing your own sidearm, you attempted to defend, but your goddamn shoulder wouldn’t allow you to aim properly. It was like something was caught in the gears of your movement. Was the bullet still stuck in you?

Everything seemed like it was over for you when your bullet missed. You were going to be gunned down like a dog on the street. Closing your eyes tight, you waited for impact.

It came, but not on you.

Ghost was blind with rage as soon as he saw the gun pointed at you. The blood on your clothes made it worse, his killer instinct taking hold of him. The target was no match for him normally, but especially not like this. Ghost slammed them into the wall, head cracked against brick. In their concussion, they were thrown onto the ground, the pistol spiraling out of their hands in the momentum. 

It didn’t stop there, though. The only way to ensure that you wouldn’t be shot at again was to break their whole fucking hands. From fingers to wrist to arms, Ghost snapped the bones like twigs. Having shoved a dirty cloth from the ground into the target’s mouth, the screams were muted. 

You watched as your lieutenant unleashed his wrath, the cracking of bones seeming to echo through the alley. When that wasn’t good enough for Ghost anymore, you watched him punch the living daylights out of the target until blood splattered across the concrete. 

Watching the scene unfold didn’t make you scared, sad, or even angry. Something dark came over you. You were glad to see this asshole get beaten almost to death. It was punishment to not mess around with things they shouldn’t mess with, not including you. Sensitive information like what you needed to extract weren’t toys to barter or sell. 

Besides that, seeing Ghost nearly kill a guy for you was kinda hot.

“Lieutenant! That’s enough!” Captain Price suddenly arrived, grabbing Ghost’s shoulders to pull him off on what could now be considered a victim. Ghost shook his head as if clearing whatever steam was still smothering his brain. When he no longer felt the full weight of rage, his attention turned to you. 

Clutching your shoulder tight. Bloody. No tears. No screams. No whimpers. Just a steady breath and pressure on your own wound. You were a tough cookie. Most recruits would have cried.

He gingerly tucked loose strands of hair behind your ear. Slowly, he peeled your hand away from your gunshot wound. You winced and sucked in a quick breath, the fire shooting through you. It felt like your muscles were ripped to shreds. The fiery string spread down your whole arm and clavicle. 

“It’ll hurt like hell for a while, but you’ll be okay.” He quietly reassured you, trying to see if he could spot the bullet embedded in your arm. 

You watched Captain Price search the pockets of the target, coming up with nothing in the hoodie. “Front left pants pocket. They were fiddling with it earlier. Did I fail the mission?”

Ghost and Price’s eyes widened at your question. You should’ve had more concern for your injury, not if your job was on the line. You didn’t doubt that you would be okay. Most people didn’t die from where you were shot. Some time, physical therapy, and painkillers should make you right as rain again.

Recovery wouldn’t matter if they demoted you.

“No. Soap picked up extra feed from another source right before the conflict. The accomplice. There wasn’t any way for us to know until now. You are a good soldier.” Price explained, watching the worry melt from your face. It was obvious that you cared and wanted to be here. Now he knew more clearly what exactly Ghost saw in you.

You did some deep breathing while you waited for a recovery pickup. When the unmarked van pulled up, your body felt lighter. They were going to take care of you. They looked out for each other, now including you. You’ve always wanted this kind of support.

Ghost followed you into the back, the inside set up like an ambulance. You were laid out on a gurney, medical officials doing their best to keep you comfortable. It was hard to do that when every bump in the road knocked against your shoulder. 

Soon enough, you were back on base in the familiar medical facility, a doctor prodding at your wound to fish out the bullet. Ghost was there the entire time, hating that you were in pain like this. He couldn’t be more proud of how you handled it, though. 

You gave an agonizing groan as the bullet was extracted, but the relief after was euphoric. It was like getting a pebble out of your shoes after walking with it for miles. The bullet hit the metal bowl beside you with a light clink. “Can I keep it?”

“Why would you want to do that?” Ghost questioned, a tone of surprise light in his voice. 

You instinctively shrugged your shoulders, causing pain to surge through you. Your doctor began to wrap you up. “Seems important to keep, I guess.”

A memento. A reminder. It could’ve killed you if the shot was anywhere else. For those reasons, it felt like something you couldn’t just throw away. After the doctor secured your bandages, they disinfected your odd souvenir and handed it to you in a small zip bag. 

You held it up to the light, catching the fluorescent light on it. Ghost gave a brief chuckle as he thought about how you were full of surprises. 

He was most definitely going to make you his. 

~

It’s been a few weeks since your injury and you were healing nicely. You were dedicated to your physical therapy, taking the proper workouts and epsom salts bath needed to ensure peak physical performance. 

You graduated from calling your lieutenant by his moniker when it was just the two of you. He had given you permission to call him by his real name if no one else was around. When he first gave you that honor, your heart raced within your chest as you played with it on your tongue. Hearing his own name come from your lips made him feel closer to you as well, a fire igniting within his soul. 

You only fed the flames when you said it with a deep blush on the tips of your ears the first few times you used it.

The both of you were hanging out in one of the break rooms near the offices. It was a quiet day, many soldiers busy with work. You were taking a coffee break after grueling hours of paperwork. The coffee tasted better in Simon’s building. It was probably because they deserved higher quality beans as seniors. That, and the fact that you shared a cup of coffee with him. 

The conversation was casual. Just the two of you in a small kitchenette that brought you close in proximity. You could smell his cologne as he moved about. His body brushed against your knees while you sat on the counter. It never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“Wanna go out on a date?”

You nearly choked on your coffee when you heard the question, his bluntness something that you were still not quite used to. Simon never was the type to beat around the bush. “A date? An official one?”

“Of course. Don’t you know I like you?” Simon smirked under his mask, watching pink creep along your cheeks. You had an inkling of his feelings for you, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself from assuming that your superior saw you more than his trainee. 

You gave it some consideration. Simon didn’t know that he could feel nervous anymore, yet he did as you gave it some careful thought. It was like he could feel each second passing by when you were quiet. 

Finally, you gave a nod, accepting his invitation. “I would love to go out on a date with you.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up tonight. Wear something nice, but comfortable.” He instructed, a weight lifting off his chest from your answer. With that, he left you in the kitchenette with his finished tea, getting back to the paperwork. You took a moment to let everything sink in. It felt almost surreal. A date with the lieutenant. You. 

Paperwork felt like a breeze when you were in high spirits. There was a spring in your step as you moved across the office, the base, and eventually, your barrack. You were good at following directions, picking out an outfit that seemed perfect for whatever Simon had planned with you. 

You normally weren’t one to dress up or do your makeup, but it was a special occasion. Some light makeup and a clean outfit made you look like someone worthy of dating Simon. Just when you were finishing up some lip gloss, there was a knock at your door. 

Your breath was stolen as Simon stood in the hall, casual clothes showing off his build. His personal sense of style was masculine, a black jacket and nice jeans paired with boots, black button down, and dog tags. He still wore his skull balaclava, demanding respect from anyone on base that happened to spot him in casuals. Not that you minded.

Simon was also speechless as he witnessed you at your more casual. Such pretty eyes. Lips that were plump and kissable. He wanted to hold you close and never let go. He loved how you dolled yourself up for him, yet still stayed true to your natural beauty. 

“Pretty girl. Shall we?” He extended his hand, demonstrating a more gentlemanly side that you didn’t know he had. Graciously, you took it, feeling his ungloved hands for the first time. Calloused, warm, comforting. It was a hand that you wished you could hold forever. 

Wow, you’ve really fallen for him. . .

He escorted you to his truck, a simple black one that fit in with all the other cars on the base. It was kept clean, not even a leftover empty water bottle in sight. An air freshener in the shape of a tree hung from his mirror. The radio softly played for a moment before he turned it off to talk to you. 

You saw a new side of Simon. As soon as the truck left the property, you talked about your interests other than work. You got to learn about his hobbies, his habits, his likes, and his dislikes. He put it clearly what his red flags were as did you. 

A few miles in and Simon removed his mask, allowing you to see his face. A strong, clean jaw. Eyes so blue you could swim in them. A scar along his brow that gave him character. You giggled in your seat. He quirked that brow. “What’s so funny?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be the blonde and blue-eyed kind.” You admitted, your gaze averting toward the window. 

“What were you expecting?” He played along. The trees flying by slowly turned into buildings as you got closer to the city. 

The familiar golden hour showered over you. “Honestly? Another skull.”

At that he laughed. One that came right from his belly. It felt full and near magical. There was something about you that made him feel comfortable. Normal. He hasn’t felt this way in a long time. “Is this a disappointment for you then? Me not being undead?”

“Not at all. I’m glad you’re living, Simon.” You reassured him. You got to see his smile as clear as day, your stomach doing flips and triggering your own smile.

“I’m glad you’re living too. . .” He confessed, his tone now becoming a little darker. He recalled the day you got shot. Your first outing on the job shouldn’t have gone down like that. He had his eye on you the whole time, but when you turned into that alley, it was like you had completely disappeared. A few seconds too late and you wouldn’t have been sitting next to him now. 

You noticed how his face fell, his grip on the clutch getting tighter. Your own smile faltered in worry. “Simon?”

“I’m sorry for not being there soon enough, Y/n. You shouldn’t have been shot in the first place. If I was following you more closely, it wouldn’t have happened.” He formally apologized. You didn’t realize that he still thought about that day.

Your attention turned towards the window again, knots in your stomach circling over like snakes. “I don’t blame you for what happened that day. I blame myself more than anything. For a split second, I thought that you were wrong for believing in me so much. That I wasn’t as talented as everyone thought I was. You saved my life that day. So rather than saying I forgive you, I want to say thank you.”

Simon took your hand in his and squeezed it tight. He’s never felt close to anyone like this. So raw and open. When it came to you, he didn’t have to worry about being judged. You weren’t the type to be unreasonable or hold grudges. He had his team for support for a long time, but it could never replace the need for a real partner. In that department, he’s been alone for a long time.

If anything, you saved his life. 

"Thought I scared you off back then with my blow up." He admitted, the atmosphere lighter for more honesty.

You felt it too. "Not at all. Honestly, I thought it was pretty hot. . ."

The two of you didn’t need to say anything else to each other on the matter. Both of you understood with just a squeeze of your hands. The security washed over you like a blanket. That, and both of you were near grinning like lovesick teens.

As long as Simon was by your side, everything would be okay. There was no need to focus on the past while there was such a bright future. 

The rest of the ride was comfortable, the city now filling up the whole window. It didn’t take long for Simon to get to the restaurant, find a parking spot, and open your passenger door. The restaurant was nothing too fancy. Up-scaled comfort food. Simon had good tastes. You could tell that he thought about this date carefully.

The host led you towards the back of the restaurant, a special request to ensure as much privacy as possible. You took a seat, Simon sliding in your chair before taking his own. You took in the restaurant. Antique-style lights, fresh pothos plants weaving along the walls, quiet jazz over the speakers. The air was filled with salty, savory, and even sweet scents as the kitchen made both mains and desserts. There was light chatter across the floor, other couples and families enjoying a good meal.

You smiled at the menu selection, already spying several things you wanted to try. One of which being a house cocktail. The waiter took your drink order while Simon settled on a few appetizers to share. 

There was no mention of work during the date. There wasn’t much to say about it anyways since you worked together. Instead, you focused on a little more personal details. You skipped over talking about his family. From the way he stiffened in his chair, you could tell that that subject was touchy. When you switched topics, Simon eased up.

He was grateful that you respected his boundaries. In return, he respected yours. There was a sense of guilt having read your files before and knowing a lot of information already, but he wouldn’t bring it up until you were ready to talk about it. It had to be natural. 

The more drinks you had, the more you loosened up. You felt yourself smiling and laughing a lot more, the air as light as your head. The food was fantastic, the flavors dancing on your tastebuds even after you have swallowed. Of course, for you, dessert was the best part. You’ve never tasted a chocolate lava cake so warm and rich in your life. 

After the meal, the two of you took time to savor your drinks. The restaurant began to filter out as the night went on. You were wrapped up in conversation for a couple hours before the two of you decided to call it a night. Once you got in the car, though, you dropped a subtle hint. “I’m not ready to go to bed yet. . .”

“What a coincidence. I’m not either.” He responded coolly despite his heart racing. A buzz of excitement traveled through the both of you as anticipation to take things further built up. Simon was no longer driving in the direction of the base. He was taking you to his apartment.

The combination of leftover alcohol and rampant emotions put a spring in your step. The two of you practically raced to his place, Simon unlocking his door in record time. You didn’t even have a chance to take a look around as he pulled you into his arms and gave you an earth-shattering kiss. 

Fireworks erupted throughout your body, his kisses sweeter than the lava cake that melted on your tongue. God damn, he was a good kisser. His teeth lightly nipped your bottom lip, determined to make you shiver under his hands. An involuntary gasp parted your lips enough for him to taste you more. As soon as his tongue wrapped around yours, you moaned. 

It wasn’t enough for Simon. He wanted to hear you cry out for him. Pushing your back against the wall, he pinned you in place to take more of his passionate kisses. His hand roamed up your back, desperately searching for the zipper to strip you down. The other was around your thigh, lifting your leg up so he could insert himself closer to you. You felt his erection press against your body, your stomach filling with a pleasurable fire that consumed you.

The zipper went down along with your top, your breasts bouncing free as he took your bra with it. God, he wanted to take you right there by the front door. He wanted to pound into you so hard you would scream and let everyone know in the complex that you belonged to him. 

It seemed that you wanted the same thing as your panties became wet with need, your hips grinding into that massive erection. Drool dripped down the side of your mouth, each kiss wonderfully invasive. Your freed chest jumped with each breath and heartbeat, also aching to be manhandled.

You put your hands on his chest, feeling a burning heat like warming your hands by a fire. Simon smiled against your mouth as your own hands roamed and tugged for him to be a little more exposed too. Taking your hint, he threw his shirt off, feeling your eyes wander over every inch of skin that you could see. Strong. Powerful. Scarred. Perfect.

Even marble statues couldn’t compare to the strength of his body. Simon drove you crazy, your natural honey dripped past your panties and down your thighs. You’ve never been so turned on like this before. It made you want to go feral. It made you want to not only make love to Simon, but to fuck him too. 

You slipped off your bottoms with your panties, wanting him to see just how slick you were. Of course, Simon stared. He couldn’t help it. Truely, how could ever let a pretty thing like you go. 

A borderline evil smirk graced his face, his sharp eyes glimmering in mischief. It would be a waste if he didn’t drink from you tonight. Crouching down, he lifted a leg up over his shoulder for full access to what would undoubtedly be the best meal in his life. Your breath quickened as his fingers spread you open. “Such a pretty pink, dove.”

“I don’t think I have ever received a compliment for my pussy before.” You chuckled easily. Your laugh turned into a sharp moan as he kissed your swollen clit. Fuck, you were dripping. 

“I’ll gladly be the first. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Simon praised, appealing to that kink he knew you had. And Christ did that fan the flames. 

He kissed the inside of your thighs, opting to leave hickeys on each side. Your propped leg jumped with each bite, your hands gripping his soft locks tugging. “Simon. . .” 

“I know, dove. But I need to do this to make you mine.” He claimed before leaving another mark on your soft skin. Your impatient moan filled the space, but you didn’t stop him. You wanted to belong to Simon. And if this was how he claimed you, so be it. He could cover you head to toe with hickeys if he wanted, as long as you belonged to each other now.

You waited for him to be satisfied. He wasn’t, his possessive nature wanting to mark you in more obvious places. He didn’t want to put you in a bad position when you had to work, however, so he stopped. Looking up at you, he smiled, watching you bite your lip in hopes that he would go for your juicy pussy. “Such a good girl, waiting for me. You want me to eat you out?”

The baritone of his voice echoed in your head like a bass string. You nodded eagerly, quaking as his hands teased your legs. “Yes please.”

He hummed in approval. “Good girl.”

His tongue brushed against your clit hard, feeling it throb in celebration against his buds. You threw your head back and moaned, back arching as shockwaves traveled along your spine. Your grip on his hair got tighter. It was a struggle not to pull it as you desired a deeper sensation. Not that Simon would have minded. What he wouldn’t give to be crushed between those luscious thighs of yours.

Simon swiped the full length of you, nectar flowing down his throat like the ripest peach. He loved the way your hips twitched to grind on his face. How you shuttered and moaned and gasped with each lick. He pulled you closer, a large hand groping your ass in the process. Plump. Soft. Heavenly.

You were so close to a climax. You felt the pleasure pooling deep within you waiting to turn into a tsunami. Right at the cusp, you moaned louder, begging with each breath. “Simon~! More~!”

He angled you more to push his tongue inside you. You were tight around it, tasting even more of the honey that flowed out of you. Stars began to swarm your vision as he pushed you closer to the edge. Now, you were really taking advantage of him. Simon felt his hair being pulled harder, just short of it being painful. Your soft thighs enveloped his face as well, a dream come true as far as he was concerned.

You rode his face harder and harder until you exploded. Eyes fluttered closed as you tensed, every cell in your body so blissfully singing in your blood. You screamed as he continued to tongue-fuck you through your orgasm, eager to not waste a single drop of you. His grip on you hardened to keep you from squirming too much. 

Finally, he loosened his hold and pulled back. You struggled to catch your breath and your heartbeat. While you took a short breather, Simon stood to unbuckle his pants. His  girthy, powerful cock sprang up, relieved to be out of its confinement. As soon as you saw it, pulsing and strong, you knew that you were in for an even better time.

“Hands on the door, dove.” He commanded. 

You didn’t have to be told twice.

The palms of your hands settled on his front door, your body bent and ready to take him from behind. The tips of his fingers traced deliciously along your smooth back, down to your hips, and then tapped your butt in approval. “Perfect girl. I really can’t get enough of you, dove.”

His hands gripped your hips to hold you steady while he worked himself in. Despite how wet you were, Simon didn’t want to hurt you with his size. He wanted to make sure you could take it before he went wild. 

You bit your lip and whined as he stretched you out, feeling pleasure already from his erection. His tongue felt great, but it couldn’t possibly beat the weight of his dick. It satisfied that need for something bigger. Harder. And did Simon fit the bill just right.

He pushed in deeper, slowly, until he was flush. You took deep breaths as you got used to having his all. Behind you, you could hear Simon giving a satisfied groan. “So fucking tight around me. Soaking too.”

The praises had you smiling like an idiot. It felt so good to hear him enjoy your body. It helped you relax a little too, allowing him some room to start moving. With a shake of your hips, you encouraged him to thrust as much as he wanted.

Simon started off slow at first. Agonizingly slow. You felt every inch of him slide, twitch, and rub as he moved at a snail’s pace. He wanted to make sure you could feel all of him. That your pussy would remember him and only ever want him. From base to tip, he carved his shape into you. 

A small whimper escaped you as he took his time. He chuckled and watched your ears turn red as you realized he heard you. “Growing restless?”

“Maybe a little. . .” You admitted, your voice shaky as he plunged himself back into you. You could’ve sworn that he was deep enough to kiss your cervix, he was so deep. It made you salivate, drool threatening to dribble out with each parted breath.

“I didn’t realize that my girl could get impatient.” He teased further.

My girl. It had a nice ring to it coming from Simon. That was right. You were his girl now. “Your girl wants to be further claimed by her man.”

You couldn’t be more perfect to him. You said and did all the right things. That itself deserved a reward. Exactly what you wanted. 

He thrusted into you harder this time, making you cry out as he most definitely kissed your cervix that time. His movements quickened, rubbing the sweet spots in you that made you feel alive. Your nails clawed the door, some of the paint scraping off by accident. Not that it mattered right now. In fact, Simon thought it was a good way to remember this day.

Your pussy tightened with each thrust. Honey dripped down your thighs and onto the floor. His grip on your hips got stronger, leaving another version of his claim on your skin. He groaned each time he pushed in, your warmth too good to be separated from for too long. 

“H-Harder~!” You begged, vocal cords raw from moaning so much, but you couldn’t get enough. Just like you wanted, Simon stepped up to satisfy your craving. His chest pressed against your back as he reached underneath you to pinch that sensitive clit. Your vision saw white as he rubbed, pistoning harder into you. His other hand took hold of your breast, tweaking a solid nipple. That made you become undone.

You screamed out your orgasm, too invested in all of the pleasure to care if neighbors heard you. More of your slick coated his cock down to his balls, adding more mess to the puddle of honey on the floor. While you shouted and cried for Simon, he just continued to fuck you. He was getting close to his own climax and it was going to be a big one. 

Simon bit your shoulder, the same one you got shot in. This bite sent earthquakes in you, the pain of it turning into nirvana instantly. His groans turned into growls as he moved rougher, short and hard movements making sure he was deep as he could possibly go. Your tight pussy squeezed around him more as your mind went numb from the bliss. 

His hold tensed as he pulled out, holding you in place to shoot his cum over your back. It came out hot and thick before cooling quickly from the air. The sensation was welcomed as it brought your temperature down. You felt numb and dumb from the sex, legs wobbling for you to rest. 

After Simon’s brain didn’t feel like complete mush anymore, he picked you up in a bridal hold to carry you to his bathroom. Getting off your feet was instant relief. “Don’t worry, dove. I’ll clean you up. Gotta take care of my girl properly, yeah?”

[jam-spam]

Action pose referenced from @jookpubstock

Uhhhhhhmmm au rambling below

So uh Gingerbrave has the soul jam… you know who wants the soul jam…

Silent salt so what if Gingerbrave got caught and tried to run away (omg the cookie runs) and we’ll Silent Salt breaks his leg 😭😭😭😭😔😔😔😔😔

Now he cannot run 😭😰

Anyways headcannons based on the information I know about Silent Salt (which is basically none)

🧂 Salt draws the line at crumbling a child so Gingerbrave is safe (White Lilly and maybe Dark Enchantress need to start running though)

🧂Salt initially just captured Gingerbrave not intending to harm him, but uhm well he couldn’t just let a fragment of his soul jam run away (he already has to track down two [smaller?] pieces)

🧂while not outwardly manipulative like Shadow Milk, Silent salt may try to “befriend (????)” Gingerbrave, maybe on common grounds their both baked by witches and are aligned against them.(I think)

🧂I saw a headcannon somewhere about Silent Salt founding the St.Pastry order so maybe he makes his base in like an abandoned Pastry church (considering if he’s aligned against witches I wouldn’t imagine the pastry order would be super happy about that)

🧂due to the decor being like forks and knives and the like Gingerbrave and White Lilly are thoroughly freaked out by the place.

🧂before corruption (?) Salt was very devout to the witches and would conquest in their name. Not as ruthless as burning spice but still pretty bad.

🧂sees Gingerbrave like a potential Squire / maybe son figure but idk about that.

🧂not a head cannon but get the little baby gingerbread man outta there 😭 I say as if I’m not the one writing this au

🧂cannot stop thinking about The Horse and The Infant from epic the musical for the two… ifykyk

Also if you read this far please comment of something I need to yap about this to someone 😭

[528-hotline]

hi angel hope ur doin well today <3 i saw ur post n i need to know ur thoughts on stepbro! gyuvin pls 🤲

pairings | stepbro!gyuvin x stepsis!reader

warnings | stepcest, perv!gyuvin, noncon elements, voyeurism, panty stealing / sniffing, size kink

a/n 💌 OH MY GOD THEE QUEEN??? hello there AAAA thank u for requesting <3 i hope this is up to your liking heheh i hope you enjoy!

stepbro!gyuvin annoying and teasing you for having a small height for your age, but in reality he goes feral and would wanna just carry you to his room and fuck you there like his own personal fucktoy!! this guy would have a size kink i just know it!

stepbro!gyuvin stealing your used underwear and sniffing them while he jerks on it to his room. when he’s about to cum, he grabs your panties and shoots his seed directly to it. after a while, he would feel guilty and wash your panties for you :( he’ll leave it to dry somewhere in his room and puts it in your drawer when you’re not around as if nothing happened

stepbro!gyuvin jerking in front of his laptop with the pictures and video of your panties and your thighs he took secretly everytime you’re in escalator or in a jam-packed elevator when you’re wearing skirts or your uniform everytime you’re with him!!

stepbro!gyuvin installing a very small camera on eumppappa’s collar to spy on you everytime his dog comes near you. everytime you make cute little noises to his dog, and everytime the dog comes near your pretty parts such as your chest and thighs, he can’t help himself but jerk off on the recordings!! he’s kinda envy that his dog can come near you like that and he doesn’t have the guts to do so :((

one time, you heard skin slapping on gyuvin’s room, and even caught him moaning your name when you just arrived home from school. you decided to confront him after you put your things down your room and confronted him when the “noises” from his room died down.

you knocked on his room, opening it afterwards. “hey gyuv… mind if i ask you something?” you asked him, you were greeted by him playing with his phone on his bed. “hm.. what’s up?”

“d-do you like me?” you asked, he suddenly stops on playing his game, he then snickered, “psh, no? you’re my stepsister, what in the world is that question?” deep inside, gyuvin’s eager to say yes to you :(

“i heard you moan my name by the time i arrived, you sure you don’t like me?” you chuckled, and gyuvin froze at his position, this is a situation he cannot dodge, so he decided to tell you the truth and apologize. he doesn’t wanna lie to you anyway :(

“s-sorry, y/n… you see… i, uh… i sorta like you and you’re so pretty i can’t help it… and the fact you’re my stepsister is so wrong to think this way… can you forgive me?”

“if you’re really sorry… then, do you wanna help me?” you asked, lifting up your uniform skirt, to reveal your panties. the sight immediately made gyuvin’s dick twitch. this was everything he’s been dreaming of and it’s finally about to happen.

“fuck… mind helping me too then, sis?”

next thing you know, you’re bouncing on your stepbro’s cock in your skimpy little uniform :3

[brittle-doughie]

I’d like to imagine that y/n is involved in all the adventures going on in kingdom, and considering the previous update, I’d like to see y/n casually dropping that they fought a dragon like it’s normal to their new rockstar friends and them getting instantly worried

bonus if y/n brings snapdragon cookies as proof

[Be you, hanging with Black Lemonade and Bassist Cookie one time, jamming to her tunes when she taps your shoulder.]

Black Lemonade: You know, Y/N Cookie, I’ve heard a lot of talk about you and this Cookie Kingdom you’ve got going on.

Bassist Cookie: Aw yeah! Cookies from many of our gigs have brought you up here and there, quite the big deal.

Y/N Cookie: Well, when you’ve been through and been to places as much as I have, you aren’t really easy to be forgotten about in the eyes of many.

Black Lemonade: What exactly did you do for it to be like this?

Y/N Cookie: Oh boy, it’s a LONG story. Where to begin…

———————————————————————————————————————

Y/N Cookie: Where are you taking me!? You just upped and grabbed my arm out of nowhere!

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Calm down, I’m just borrowing you for a second! I can tell you’re different from those other cookies? I just need a further analysis on you!

Chili Pepper Cookie: Get back here with Y/N Cookie, you little!

Gingerbrave: You let go of Y/N Cookie right now!

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Ugh, so annoying. I’ll give them back when I’m done, promise!

Y/N Cookie: I could just slip away right now…

(Strawberry Crepe Cookie suddenly grabbed you with their large crepe arms!)

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Not happening, I didn’t even get to have some time with you because of these…basics!

Healer Cookie: Hang on tight, Y/N Cookie! We will do our best to rescue you!

Y/N Cookie: Strawberry Crepe, we can talk about this. Just put me down and we can-

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: I needed to run field tests on these arms anyway, I’d rather they stop functioning all together before I hand you over.

Y/N Cookie: WHAT-

———————————————————————————————————————

Clotted Cream Cookie: Are you ready, Y/N Cookie?

Y/N Cookie: I made sure to pack everything I needed, I am missing some clothes, but I can manage without them.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Good, it won’t be a long stay, so there’s no need for worry.

Financier Cookie: The airship is ready to take flight, Consul.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Shall we, Y/N Cookie?

Y/N Cookie: There’s actually one tiny problem left.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Oh! What would that be?

(Y/N Cookie points to their legs, showing that Pure Vanilla, Hollyberry, and Dark Cacao are holding onto them tight.)

Clotted Cream Cookie: I think I see the problem here…

———————————————————————————————————————

Moonlight Cookie: Ah, no more! Your words hurt like the terror of nightmares. Y/N Cookie, stay close to me.

Y/N Cookie: Moonlight Cookie is right, Stardust Cookie! The Wizards meant no malicious intent, you’re not a failure!

Stardust Cookie: You look particularly fond of this cookie, Moonlight Cookie…what is it about them that you cherish? What is it about them that washes away your sorrow…?

(Moonlight moves more in front of you to block Stardust’s line of sight, Stardust’s attention on you has made her on edge.)

Stardust Cookie: Move aside, Moonlight Cookie. I wish to see them, to see what makes you hold them dear.

Moonlight Cookie: N-no, please. It would bring me pain to see them hurt.

Stardust Cookie: I will not bring them harm, I just want to get a look at them closely. Y/N Cookie, was it? Step forth.

Moonlight Cookie: They do not wish to, please understand-

Stardust Cookie: Allow them to make their own decision, you cannot speak for them.

Y/N Cookie: Leave her be, I’ll do it.

(Moonlight clutched you close in her arms)

Moonlight Cookie: Y/N Cookie..no….

———————————————————————————————————————

Hollyberry Cookie: There they are!

Tarte Tatin Cookie: Y/N Cookie!

(There, sheltering in the cave, was you. You held your stomach as jam was stained on your head as you held it. Your sword laid next to you, claw marks littering the blade. Your breathing was heavy. Hollyberry was FREAKING OUT.)

Hollyberry Cookie: Y/N Cookie please! It’s alright, I’ve got you. Tell me you aren’t hurt badly!

Y/N Cookie: Still breathing and-WHOA! Hey, come on now, Holly! I can’t exactly do that now that you’re squeezing me tightly again!

Hollyberry Cookie: Haha! It’s just that I’m really happy to see you alive! You had no idea how horrified I was when the Red Dragon carried you away! Pitaya Dr-Pitaya Cookie is still fuming from that!

Pitaya Cookie: Your dough! It’s all scratched up! Grrr, that imposter will pay for this….

Tarte Tatin Cookie: You are incredibly lucky to have escape the dragon’s grasp…

Snapdragon: (worried babbling as they went to your side)

Royal Margarine: What do we do know? The Red Dragon will surely come back!

Y/N Cookie: I can still fight, we can still make it to-ARGH!

Hollyberry Cookie: I can’t let that happen, Y/N Cookie. I can carry you the rest of the way, but you’re not drawing your blade again.

Y/N Cookie: Don’t worry about me, the others are hurt too..

Tarte Tatin: Eeugh! I’ll be alright, Y/N Cookie.

Y/N Cookie: Liar…

———————————————————————————————————————

Black Lemonade: ….

Bassist Cookie: Woah….gnarly.

Black Lemonade: Are..are you being serious, Y/N Cookie? A dragon? You fought a dragon?! Are you alright?!

Bassist Cookie: Yeah, are you all good, man? No lasting injuries or…

Y/N Cookie: Outside of burnt dough, several broken ribs, head injuries, and multiple therapy sessions, I’d say I got out of that situation pretty fine.

Black Lemonade: With what you’ve told me, you really are quite a big deal at your place. I’m..actually kind of flattered now since you’re a fan of mine.

Y/N Cookie: Oh yeah, totally. I’m hoping to make Snapdragon Cookie one too.

Black Lemonade/Bassist Cookie: Snapdragon Cookie?

(Cue Snapdragon Cookie suddenly popping out from behind you)

Snapdragon Cookie: Kyaaha!

Black Lemonade/Bassist Cookie: WHAAAAAAAAT?!

Snapdragon Cookie: Buubuu!

[twopoppies]

Things that I am interested in doing with Harry: shop for fancy linens, I know he knows where to get them so they are luxe. Watch some sort of limited miniseries on premium tv because I like those better than normal TV or movies. Have him teach me how to juggle because I cannot do it. Watch and discuss Planet Earth or similar show. Museum of Natural History in London. Grocery shopping for specialty items at niche markets, I want to spend some time shopping around for fancy mustards and jams together. Golfing because yes I can play and I want to see how good he is however I don’t want to discuss golf because golf is so very boring to talk about. Drink rose outside when the day starts to cool off. Park for picnic and reading. Shopping for used books. Shopping for sunglasses. Put mascara on both of us. Go to art museums in interesting places and learn about new types of art that art history classes didn’t cover. Go to that Thai restaurant in Bangkok he waited hours for a table at, I loveeeeew Thai food. Buy him a bicycle helmet. Weed or other drugs I consider safeish- no needles, trusted sources only. Trade favorite books but promise to return them once finished (do not steal my favorite books, Harry). Errands because they’re usually more fun with a friend. Outdoor dining for any meal somewhere bougie. Buy stationary and fancy pens. Dinner party. Meander around new neighborhoods. Buy new couch I feel like he has good taste in furniture. Margaritas but no casemigos that brand is not cool. Flower market. Not hang out with anyone he works for or with for any reason (lookin at you, Ben, James, Jeff, BRAD, Xander. Basically all the revolting crowd he runs with). Not hang out with Kid Harpoon that guy gives me the creeps. Ok now I’m just going to start being mean and saying things I do not want to do so I’ll stop. Anyway none of this involves hopping on his dick and I’m not leaving that out to make a point, I just don’t think that’s something I want to do. OH practice driving a manual transmission because I haven’t done that in awhile although technically I know how. He can teach me again I think just he knows.

LOL! I love you, whoever you are. Other than the weed, I’m with you 100% (because I don’t smoke).

You are officially the start of my “correct ways to be friends with Harry” tag. Or maybe “loving Harry the right way.” 🤣🤣🤣

[frownyalfred]

hi!

thinking of superbat hours in my brain today and i'm on the topic of secret relationship superbat, because this is the most comedic-potential and angst-potential iteration for them. but i'm thinking of comedic potential version rn

(also side note - when you made a post on the kissing for immunity thing you said that you were ignoring the angsty implications (or smth like that about angst) and i genuinely cannot comprehend anything being angsty in that scenario??? what were you thinking of for that)

anyway, back to my thing. i'm thinking maybe clark speeds over to gotham at night sometimes to sleep with (both euphisimistically & not, bcs bruce needs all the sleep he can get and clark being the only one to be able to keep him safe while he sleeps is my jam), and leaves in the morning before anyone knows (ofc, alfred knows and idk if superbat would know alfred knows, but he would approve).

one morning, after clark's left, bruce wakes up sick - feverish, sore, headachy, nauseous, tired, the whole gamut - and being the idiot he is he simply. goes about his day. maybe he takes some tylenol or something but he definitely isn't a good example of what to do when unwell. and he almost goes out for patrol, with damian, but his heart rate spikes dangerously while he's suiting up and clark hears this (he is very attuned to bruce's heart even from cities away) and his Bruce Is Being Stupid Again senses go up (it's the spidey sense but bruce) and he speeds there immediately.

he finds bruce about to put on his gloves and cowl and is like "no, absolutely not" and stops bruce, who ofc gets annoyed and says smth like "no metas in gotham" and clark, trying to get him to stop, v tenderly brushes his hair out of his face and gently holds him and coaxes him into sitting down and resting, "babe, no, please"-ing him out of costume into regular human clothes, and giving him kisses (for immunity of course!) and calming bruce down.

he's going to drop bruce back to his/their bedroom when he realises that damian's seen them kiss so he thinks "oh, shit" but damian's more concerned for his seemingly-infallible dad being so sick. the next morning alfred wakes clark up for breakfast and thanks him for keeping bruce safe in a way alfred has never been able to. dadfred supremacy (dilf).

have a great friday today! idk if you work weekends but if you don't - have a good time off! if you do, have an easy day at work :)

oh I loved this!! thank you for sending it. as for the angsty microbiome post. I was thinking more about ways that having an alien microbe inside of you could make Bruce sick, or cause irreparable damage from an immune response. Or maybe change Bruce into some sort of Kryptonian/Human hybrid, but not a stable one. Or simply give him abilities or longevity that would change him beyond his comfort level.

[child0feden]

CUTE AS A BUTTON

- this is really quite short because as i have mentioned before, i kind of find it a little bit difficult to write for terje despite finding him so cute! but here it is anyways, read it if you want to and i hope it is at least a little bit enjoyable :(

ps, the farmhouse that i mention in this work? i picture it being very similar the the farmhouse in the last of us part II and funnily enough, both ecstasy and aint no grave by crooked still were two of the songs i was jamming out to whilst writing this up lol! and will i ever stop making dad au stuff? no, never ever hehe <3

dad! terje who has the cutest and smallest little baby girl with you…

seriously, the baby girl that you guys have together is just the cutest little thing either of you have ever seen in your whole lives! everything about her is just so incredibly small and delicate… terje felt like a giant when she was a newborn and was placed in his arms for the first time, he was stuck in a silent state of shock and awe as he watched her little face scrunch up before softening as she somehow recognised his arms as a safe and comforting place, his tired eyes were stuck on her face as he studied her perfect little features before they drifted downwards to watch with an almost giddy smile on his face as her small hand grasped onto just one of his pale fingers… and not only is she just the cutest little thing in the world, but her strong resemblance to him is completely undeniable! it becomes especially apparent when she gets a little bit older and enters her toddler stage, she just looks like a total chubby little toddler double of him… she has his soft and shining ice blue eyes, she has his unique little pink lips, she has his soft and glossy brown hair with a slight curl to it, she has a small little ident in her chin that mirrors his own and she has his exact same adorable button nose which neither of you can ever resist peppering in adoring kisses, not to mention how many sweet eskimo kisses that happen too! your daughter with terje is quite literally just the epitome of cute as a button

dad! terje who loves to put flowers in your daughters hair…

if there is one thing that calms your little girl when she is in the midst of having a toddler tantrum, it would be going on short little walks with you and terje! the girl is kind of a major tree hugger, she just adores being outside in the fresh air and surrounded by pure nature, almost all of her tantrums start inside of your shared house because she just always so desperately wants to go out for a walk! all of her tantrums consist of her pouting and huffing and whining whilst pointing at the front door, giving her best faux big sad eyes up to the two of you which never ever fails to work like a charm on terje, as much as he hates to admit it… as much as she loves going on these walks with the two of you, she does not so much like the literal walking part and within just minutes of being bundled up in some thick warm clothes and leaving the house, terje has already swooped her up into his arms and has her settled comfortably on his hip after her small steps began to slow down! almost every single time on these frequent walks with your daughter, terje ends up picking an assorted bundle of small colourful flowers along the way! he loves sticking these delicate flowers into the pink hair ties that hold her soft brown hair in two short little pigtails, he loves slipping one of the flowers behind her ear and he just cannot get enough of her sickly sweet little smile when he coos down to her about how pretty she looks with flowers in her hair, he just cannot stop himself from mirroring her smile and telling you to look at how pretty she looks, turning to you and softly bouncing her on his arm whilst cooing to you about how she looks like a magical forest fairy or even a princess! and terje never even tries to stop you when you come closer to them and take some of the spare flowers from his hand and give them to your daughter before taking her small hand in yours, guiding her to slip one of the bright flowers into his long brown hair and behind his own ear… but he will be doing the exact same to you after you do it to him, a small and sweet grin painting his face as he uses your daughters little hand to push a flower into your hair with a look of pure love flooding his gentle blue orbs

dad! terje who always holds your baby daughter up in front of mirrors…

he does this just to be kind of goofy and have some fun with her! he just loves holding her small body safely in the crook of his arm with her back cushioned against his warm chest and making silly faces that reflect back to her in the large bedroom mirror, he loves sticking his tongue out and watching as she claps her hands with obvious delight at the comedic sight… he can never keep the silly faces going for long though, the sight of her being so humoured and the sound of her high pitched giggles is always bound to make him crack a big smile of his own before he starts laughing along with her, bouncing her small body in his arm whilst cooing down to her, blissfully unaware of and too stuck on showering your daughter in attention to notice the fact that you have been standing in the doorway and admiring the beautiful sight of him being such a doting father

dad! terje who bought your daughter a goose plushie before she was even born…

the plushie itself is almost overly soft and cushioned with plump stuffing inside, coloured with gentle white and light cream faux fur with two big glossy black buttons for eyes and two long plush orange legs… the soft plushie goose with a blank face was of course purchased by terje, just a couple of months after you had told him that you were definitely pregnant! he had found it in some little boutique store and something about it just made him smile and think about his unborn child with you and he himself was always quite fond of geese, so of course he bought it and took it home to you! he makes sure to rip the small paper price tag off before he shows you as he does not want to face your jokes about how cute and soft he is for spending so much on a simple little plushie… sometimes, when the two of you were stuck in front of a mirror studying your growing bump, he would bring the plushie over and press the beak against your bump, making mock kiss sounds and cracking a grin when it made you laugh… the first time your unborn daughter ever kicked was when he was doing this… and now, the goose plushie is something that she basically cannot live without at all, let alone sleep without! she takes it everywhere with her, even when she was a newborn she would cry and scream until you or terje placed the goose plushie down next to her and let her take it into her arms! that goose plushie was, in a way, her very first friend! and as much as you might try to fight against the idea, you know fine well that terje will probably end up surprising her with and letting her have a pet goose when she gets just a little bit older

dad! terje who wants a big yet quaint and comfortable family with you…

he already knew that he definitely wanted more children with you right after your first daughter was born but when she was in her toddler phase? when he got to see her eyes light up like sparkling stars whenever he picked a colourful little flower and gave it to her? when he got to see a huge smile crawl across her small face whenever he held her up on his hip and leaned down to show her how to pet an animal? when he got to listen to her incoherent babbles and high pitched giggles whenever he spoke back to her as if they were having a real conversation between themselves? it was all so special to terje, it all just made him feel so… content and warm in his life! of course he was already beyond happy and comfortable in a relationship with you before you were parents but when you gave him his daughter? it opened a whole new part of his heart that he was not even aware of existing and he just knew that he wanted to have more children with you and he probably wants them very soon after your first daughter is born! he wants them to all grow up pretty close in age so that they can all look out for each other and play together, especially since the cozy farmhouse that the two of you live in together is quite isolated from many other families… and it definitely helps that he thinks you looked absolutely ethereal when you were carrying and growing his first perfect baby! so do not be surprised that if in the midst of him laying back on your warm shared bed whilst holding your hips in his calloused hands as you fuck yourself on his cock, he looks up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes that you have ever seen before asking just one simple little question in a breathy and whispery tone… “ can i get you pregnant again? i really want to get you pregnant again, want another baby with you so much… ” and how could you ever even think of saying no to him? it is safe to say that you guys definitely end up with quite a large little bundle of children but both of you love it so much and would not change it for the world

[the-troll-book-of-mormon]

@davekatweek day 1: plush!

in which dave does not want anything remotely puppet-like to watch the proceedings

(+ my rushed attempt at dialogue below)

DAVE: hey karkat sorry to totally crush your wildest selfcest dreams here but do you think maybe we could put that cool guy away before we go any further here

KARKAT: WHAT?

DAVE: your squishy dude over there with the sideways mohawk

DAVE: lil kat

KARKAT: ARE YOU REFERRING TO MY CUSHION EFFIGY?

DAVE: ok theres absolutely no way thats actually the troll word for plushies but ill let it slide without completely derailing the conversation this time

DAVE: yes that guy

DAVE: could we maybe do this without him watching

DAVE: idk something about the way hes been staring at me with those big yellow depression eyes is just killin my vibe

KARKAT: WOW DAVE, REALLY GLAD THAT AFTER ALL THIS TIME YOU FINALLY FOUND IT WITHIN THE ECHOING CAVERNS OF YOUR HOLLOW PUMP BISCUIT TO TELL ME THAT MY "DEPRESSION EYES" ALLEGEDLY "KILL YOUR VIBE".

KARKAT: ANY OTHER COMPLAINTS YOU WANT TO GET OFF YOUR NUB WHILE YOU'RE ALREADY SCUTTLING YOUR EFFRONTERY GASH?

DAVE: dude what

DAVE: thats totally different

DAVE: i love your depression eyes you know i love your depression eyes

KARKAT: I DON'T KNOW, DAVE, IS THIS A THING THAT I KNOW?

KARKAT: YOU DON'T THINK THERE COULD BE ANYTHING CONFUSING ABOUT THE FACT THAT YOU ARE CLAIMING TO "LOVE" AN ANATOMICAL FEATURE OF MINE THAT YOU SIMULTANEOUSLY FIND SO DISGUSTING THAT YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY BRING YOURSELF TO ENGAGE IN CONCUPISCENT ACTIVITIES IN ITS PRESENCE?

KARKAT: ONCE AGAIN I AM COMPLETELY MYSTIFIED BY THE BOUNDLESS GENIUS OF YOUR ATROPHYING SPONGE. HOW COULD I EVER HOPE TO KEEP UP?

DAVE: holy shit dude i cannot believe this is actually something youre stuck on

DAVE: this is a real unfortunate time to be getting into this but maybe its because your depression eyes are attached to the real life body of my sexy as fuck boyfriend and i can look at them and not get the weird fucking heebie jeebies about being watched or secretly filmed

KARKAT: OH.

DAVE: i mean look hes cute and all and on the one hand its genuinely hilarious that in a way were fulfilling plush karkats voyeuristic fantasies that he inherited from you

KARKAT: HEY!

DAVE: but on the other its kinda jarring that every time i glance up and see his weird little fabric face im getting flashbanged by my kid selfs fucked up programming and for a split second its like im seeing something completely different

DAVE: so yeah nothing wrong with his depression eyes specifically its just that theyre eyes and theyre not real and somehow that makes it way more real

DAVE: like maybe someone somehow snuck a webcam in there just now when i wasnt looking

DAVE: which doesnt actually make sense because first of all why

DAVE: and second of all im always keeping my eye out for that sort of thing anyway so i would definitely notice before we got this far

DAVE: but all this dumb shit just makes it kinda hard to focus on the actual depression bedroom eyes right in front of my face

DAVE: not to mention the rest of this effigy im tryin to get my ganderbulbs and prongs all over

KARKAT: OKAY I GET IT, STOP TRYING TO DISTRACT ME FROM THE FEELINGS JAM BY APPROPRIATING TROLL VERNACULAR.

KARKAT: I'LL PUT HIM IN THE OTHER ROOM.

...

i had more of the scene i could write, but it was getting long and im already late for day 1! maybe one day i'll actually write out a scene and post it on ao3

[chucklenutters]

STOP INFANTILIZING JAKE ENGLISH. STOP TREATING HIM LIKE HE IS FREE OF CONSEQUENCES.

Jake English is such an interesting character because the way he is written infuriates me (in a good way). I saw a particular text post saying basically that Jake English did nothing wrong and that Jane is an asshole for being upset at him. This is just… Wrong. I think a lot of people in general like to try and make Jake seem like he cannot do any wrong because he has neurodivergent traits and is heavily implied to be neurodivergent. This is not to say Jake was entirely in the wrong in some situations, but neither were his friends when they became upset at him. Because, guess what Tumblr, they are teenagers and teenagers are flawed as fuck.

The main thing I would like to talk about is the pages where Jane yells at Jake (starts at page 5521).

While obviously Jane’s passive aggressiveness did not help the situation whatsoever, she was very clearly upset at the fact that one of her only friends forgot about her birthday. After he realizes he forgot, he starts making up excuses. Obviously his forgetfulness is not his fault but I feel like Jane’s slight is definitely not unjustified.

Not to mention he doesn’t even say “happy birthday” to her once during the conversation and instead makes stupid quips and proceeds to dump his relationship problems onto her. Before then though, he goes on a huge ramble to try and avoid his problems (aka what he was initially going to talk about with Jane).

During his conversation with Jane where he should be moving on as he’s decided to, it’s obviously complete filler of a conversation where he repeated over and over how Jane is 16. He’s only talked to her about his issues for so long it’s obvious that he doesn’t know how to initiate in a normal conversation with her anymore. When she finally gives him the go ahead to say it (likely because she was tired of a nonsense filler conversation) he all too eagerly tells it as if he was just biding his time for when she’d let him speak. It’s an asshole move really.

Obviously communicating with your friends and being there for them when they are struggling is good, but whenever Jake seems to talk to Jane, it is only really about his problems. Not to mention, he never talks to the person he’s having issues with (majority of the time Dirk) and instead ghosts them for weeks on end.

Not to mention he’s the one to push her into the conversation.

If you actually read the conversation you will also notice that her messages become more sparse and short while Jake’s get longer while he rambles.

When Jake says “laying low” he means ignoring and avoiding Dirk’s attempts to actually try and talk. Not to mention he also insults Dirk by saying he is “needy” and that essentially saying he is tired of Dirk’s company.

And here we fucking are folks, the bread and fucking butter of this whole convo, the shit and jam. Saying that Dirk is annoying and that his “paranoid prophecy” (you know, the one about all of his friends hating him?) is going to come true, aka saying that he does hate Dirk and no longer even wants to interact with him. And guess what? Jake is not even trying to communicate with Dirk on the matter and is instead dumping all this shit ON THEIR FRIEND.

Anyways, let’s skip to when Jane starts getting upset.

In this scene, Jake is practically ignoring her until she basically begins screaming at him. Not to mention the two last messages from Jake are extremely dismissive and so incredibly un-self aware.

Again with his strange quips and being weirdly self deprecating and pity-ing towards himself.

You can very clearly tell she’s upset, reclaiming something she let be their thing but changing it to just hers. Instead of doing the rational thing which would be to apologize, continue this at a later date or ask what you can do to make it up, he focuses on the semantics of the phrase, trying to come up with a new one. This is very obvious that he’s avoiding the topic because he’s uncomfortable with the thought of facing these issues.

After that, on page 5528, she TELLS him the issue and proceeds to keep doing the thing that’s making her UPSET.

She then freaks out again and then Jake finally tries to do something smart by insisting that they talk about it tomorrow (something JANE insisted on EARLIER) and then when she gets more upset and Jake proceeds to basically Jane not to be upset (“Aw come on jane. be a sport.”)

TLDR; stop woobifying Jake English and acknowledge the fact that he also fucks up, just like his friends.

[lilisettean]

Can you write more zayne x reader and implied!caleb? I’m a Zayne’s girlie and love to see more of the love triangle and dynamics between them three 🫣

(and let’s pretend Caleb’s still alive)

Hey! Sorry if this is delayed, was really busy recently so haven't updated much. And yes, I will write more of that love triangle! Jealousy is my jam and I LOVE it (in fiction ofc). I'm just waiting for Caleb to come back to have a bit more insight into his character and see if the game explores on their dynamic at some point!

For now though, please have this drabble and I hope you will like it :)

Custom Made | Zayne/Reader + Caleb/Reader

About: Zayne never minded paying for you. If anything, he liked buying you gifts; and if given the chance, he would gladly spoil you. However, he hadn't realized that he wasn't the only one.

Pairings: Zayne/Reader, Caleb/Reader

Notes: A somewhat part 2 to Unspoken Rivalry! Can be read separately though. Still follows the events of the Valentine's event but not by much.

AO3: Read here!

Warnings: Implied love triangle.

Zayne wandered around your apartment as he waited for you to get ready for the banquet. This was hardly the first time he had ever been to your place, but he hadn’t had the time to look around then. Usually you were ready by the time he even considered looking around. So when you claimed you needed more time to look presentable and told him to make himself at home while he waited, Zayne nodded and told you to ask if you were to need help or a second opinion.

Not that you needed it anyway. Zayne was sure whatever you did, you would look stunning.

But Zayne understood why you needed time. If the situation was reversed and you asked him to accompany you to some event wherein he would meet your colleagues, he would’ve taken time to pick a suitable and flattering outfit as well. Hence why he was now walking around your apartment, taking in your tastes and interests as he waited patiently.

Your place was very much… you, he found. A large plushie here, a few cushions and a throw blanket there. Combined with the fresh flowers and natural lighting you preferred, this place felt homely; a stark contrast to his modern and sleek, yet somehow impersonal, residence. 

Stepping away from the balcony, Zayne was about to approach the mirror perched on the cabinet to examine his appearance when something caught his eye. 

It was a lone empty photo frame settled next to the mirror, and under it, was an assortment of pictures taken. 

Unable to stifle his curiosity, Zayne gathered up the scattered photos and shuffled through them. There was one with Grandma Josephine, a few with whom he recognized as your colleagues, one with a sleeping blond hair man with squiggles drawn all over his face, and one with a famous painter whose name he cannot recall at that moment. 

What made him pause the longest while examining however, was one with your mutual childhood friend, Caleb. You two stood side by side in front of a house, his arm around your shoulder while you tucked your hair behind your ear, caring not to have it tangled with your earring, and smiled for whoever– Josephine perhaps– was behind the camera.

Normally Zayne would’ve continued on, looking through the other photos as if he had not seen it and pointedly ignoring the fleeting what ifs that spawned in his mind. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop staring at the look Caleb had on his face, his mind unable to stop thinking at what the soft smile on his face meant while he was looking at you, instead of facing the camera.

Caleb gazed at you as though you were the only person that mattered, as though you were the only reason for his entire existence. 

Zayne knew that look. He had seen it on countless people’s faces. On his patients, on his colleagues… and even on himself, on a picture with you. The same picture he had secretly used as your chat background.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the picture as though he could burn it with his gaze alone, until you snuck up to him, peering at what he had on his hands.

“What are you looking at?” Your voice snapped him out of his suffocating thoughts, his form rigid as your hand came contact with his. 

“You okay?” You asked, gasping when you felt his icy fingers against yours as you turned the picture towards you. The edges of it were coated with tiny ice crystals, its frost melting away as you wiped it. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Zayne replied after shaking his head, purging his mind of the coiling jealousy that took root. The past did not matter; you were here with him now, instead of with Caleb.

“Are you ready to go?” Zayne asked after flipping over the picture and slipping it under the pile. He awkwardly sidestepped your question, hoping that you would pick up on his reluctance and drop the matter entirely. He quietly sighed in relief when the dubious look on your face changed, replaced with a hesitant smile.

“Yes. What do you think? Am I overdressed or under dressed?” 

Zayne watched as you stepped back to allow him a better look at your outfit. Despite your protests, he had paid for the dress and heels in full, citing that it was only right for him to provide as he was the one who added you to the guest list. 

“You needn’t worry about that. You look immaculate.” Zayne said after giving you a once over, pleased that the dress he had picked out for you was to your tastes and suited you perfectly. He would’ve chosen accessories that would’ve gone well with the dress as well, if it weren’t for your insistence that you had the perfect match for it already. 

Well, Zayne took the liberty to pick out an accessory for you anyway as a gift. But that was not the focus now. 

Speaking of which… “Those earrings suit you well.” He stated as he admired the visage before him. The pair of earrings you chose were elegant in its design, subtly accentuating your features whilst drawing people in. It was as though they were tailor made for you and you only.

Despite having never seen you wear them before, a sense of déjà vu settled in. He had seen them somewhere, but he couldn’t name where…

“Really? Thanks.” You replied with a laugh, unaware of his sudden fixation upon your earrings. “They were a gift.”

“From who?”

“From Caleb! It was a gift for passing the licensure exams!”

A gift? Caleb?

Something immediately clicked within him as soon as repeated those words to himself. The picture of you and Caleb quickly appeared in the forefront of his mind, linking the two seemingly unrelated pieces of info together.

Of course. The earrings you were wearing now were the same ones you wore in the picture. 

While you told Zayne how you unsuccessfully tried to figure out where Caleb got the gift from so you could pay him back, Zayne examined the earrings you wore with great scrutiny, wondering where Caleb had gone to purchase these while listening to your failed attempts at espionage. 

The earrings you wore had a unique charm to them, and lacked the sterility and sameness that came with other pieces seen in boutiques. Zayne quickly drew to the conclusion that these were not only custom ordered, but handmade as well, with how well made they were.

There were only a select few stores that did handmade jewelry in Linkon. And to this quality… There was only one place that would be able to craft such a timeless art piece.

Zayne had to admit– albeit reluctantly– if these earrings were ones that Caleb had chosen without any prompting, or even designed himself, he had quite the taste, and an excellent eye for what would suit you the most. 

“...Zayne?”

Zayne blinked, realizing that he had unconsciously leaned forward to inspect your earring in detail. Pulling his hand away after tucking your hair behind your ear once more, he straightened himself and replied. 

“I know where they are from.” He said, huffing in amusement when he saw your face lit up at his response. “No. It would be impolite of me to reveal that.” 

“But Zayne–”

Said man huffed in amusement as you tried to persuade him, citing that you wanted to repay Caleb somehow. But Zayne remained silent, only replying with a small smile. 

It would be a horrible idea to do so. Despite the earrings being a gift from someone his darker, more jealous side considered as a rival, it was not his place to speak of its origins. But that was not the main reason why he maintained his silence.

Zayne slipped a hand in his slacks’ pocket while you were busy getting ready to leave, thumbing over a slim velvet box that contained a ring commissioned from the same place Caleb went to for your earrings.

It would be quite troublesome if you were to figure out how much they had spent, and were willing to spend, for you, after all.