#because nothing hurts like giving up before u even begin

[cameronsprincess]

okok hot cocoa and a movie w rafe and his gf on a late night drive maybe after a fight?????? 🤗🤗🤗 u can make it smutty or angsty or fluffy

i’m honestly thinking all three, angsty smutty fluff😏🩷

CW: smut! 18+ only! bf!rafe, gf!reader, strong language, slight angst, piv sex, car sex, semi public sex, fluffy ending w soft!rafe<3

join the 5k celly here!

you lean your head against the window of your boyfriends truck, nothing but the low hum of the radio filling the tense silence that surrounds the two of you.

the night was going well, until it wasn’t. you and rafe argued a lot, but it had never reached the point it did tonight. the thoughts of all the harsh things you both spewed at one other makes your chest tighten.

you slowly lift your head from the window, chancing a glance at rafe. his body is tense, fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. you don’t miss the slight tick in his jaw, watching as he clenches and unclenches it, nostrils flaring as his eyes remain on the road, not bothering to even look your way for a second.

“rafe…” you whisper, shifting in your seat so you’re facing him completely.

his hard blue eyes glance at you for a second, quickly placing them back on the road before he speaks.

“what, y/n… i’m really not in the fucking mood to talk to you right now.”

you breathe out a sigh, rolling your eyes. “then why the fuck did we go on a drive, huh? if you can’t even fucking talk to me, what was the fucking point in this?”

his hands tighten around the steering wheel once more, a heavy sigh pushing from his chest.

“i needed to fucking clear my head, after you…” he pauses, trying to calm himself before continuing, “fuck, after you said some of the shit you did, throwing low blows about my relationship with my dad my way, telling me that i’m a fuck up, i needed to fucking get out of that house… you are the one who asked to come with me, i would’ve much preferred you stayed home.”

his words hit you hard, slapping you in the face and twisting tightly around your stomach. your face drops, a slight frown on your lips as tears begin to fill your eyes. you know you shouldn’t have thrown his strained relationship with his father in his face, using it as ammo in your ploy to hurt him, and you definitely shouldn’t have called him a fuck up, knowing full well he hears that enough from his father and a few others.

rafe wasn’t a fuck up— far from it actually— you were just so angry, the words spilled from your lips before you could even give them a second thought.

“rafe, i-” you begin, but his loud, booming voice rings through the air, cutting you off.

“just stop fucking talking! can you fucking do that, for once? just stop. fucking. talking,” he pauses, letting out a rough laugh, “i’m just gonna take you home, i can’t stand the sight of you right now, can’t stand your irritating fucking voice.”

you gasp, his words slicing right through your heart.

“fuck you, rafe! god, i’m trying to make things better, but you’re being a fucking dick! and you wonder why i said the shit i said earlier, it’s because you act like this! you’re a fucking child! learn to grow up and communicate.”

rafe slams on the breaks so hard you jolt forward, your palms slapping against the dash of the truck. you push back, eyes narrowed on him. “what the fuck, rafe! are you fucking crazy? fucking drive the truck, now!” you shout, hands shaking and breathing choppy.

he ignores you, simply pressing his foot on the gas and speeding down the road, his tires slightly screeching as he does. you press your back firmly against the seat, arms crossed over your chest as you watch dim street lights and dark outlines of the trees fly by.

rafe makes a sharp right turn, pulling his truck into an empty, dark parking lot. he places the truck in park, quickly killing the engine and tossing the keys to the floorboard. you run a hand down your face, a scoff leaving your lips.

“why the fuck are we here? take me the fuck home.”

he doesn’t answer, his silence slowly grating on your nerves.

“rafe! are you gonna say anythin-”

he cuts off your words, his hand reaching out and wrapping tightly around your throat. you wrap a hand around his wrist, trying to pry him off, but it’s no use. his fingers tighten around the expanse of your neck, pressing firmly into your pulse point. he gives a low hum, leaning his face in close to yours, his warm breath fanning across your face.

“god you’re fucking infuriating, such a fucking bitch sometimes,” he stops, his eyes flitting down to your lips, reveling in the way they’re slightly parted, loving the way your pulse beats rapidly against his fingers. his lips slightly brush against yours and you squeeze your thighs together. you need him, and you need him now. “what am i gonna do about that little fucking attitude of yours, hmm?”

your eyes find his, the normally bright and shining blue now dark. you inch your face closer to his the best you can, and it’s just enough to press your lips against his. rafe groans, releasing your throat, his hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling you further into him. his tongue shoves its way past the seam of your lips, tangling with yours perfectly.

you moan into his mouth, your fingers gripping at the soft fabric of his shirt and pushing him back. both of your heavy breathing fills the cramped space of his truck, your eyes darting across his face, “rafe…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you say another word.

he fumbles with his belt, pulling it free from his jeans before popping the button and slowly guiding the zipper down. he removes the rough denim from his lower body, his boxers going with them. your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock, his tip swollen and already dripping with his arousal. he reaches over the center console, hands gripping your hips tightly and yanking you into his lap.

a low groan escapes him when your covered core rubs across his length, making him twitch beneath you. his hands pull at the waistband of your cotton shorts and you lift your hips, allowing him to pull them down your legs. he tosses them into the passenger seat, one hand firmly gripping at your hip while the other fists his cock, jerking himself as he keeps eye contact with you.

“fuck me, rafe. please?”

the words barely leave your lips before he’s pushing the head into your drenched hole, bottoming out in seconds. you both groan in unison, the feel of his large cock stretching you and the way your pussy tightly grips his dick making all the anger from moments ago wash away.

rafe presses his lips against yours, his mouth devouring you as he holds onto your hips, keeping you still as he pounds himself inside you from below. the head of his cock repeatedly hits at that sweet spot inside you, your body shaking in his hold and sweet moans of pleasure falling past your lips.

“r-rafe.. oh, god.” you mumble against his lips.

he pulls back, hard blue eyes on yours as he continues to brutally fuck himself into you. your pussy pulsates around him, your clit throbbing. you remove his hands from your hips, running them up your sides and placing them up your shirt. he cups your breasts, squeezing at them harshly. you begin lifting your hips, slamming yourself back down on him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“fuck, baby. ‘m so sorry, ‘m so fuckin’ sorry.”

you press your forehead against his, your lips beginning to slowly trail across his jaw and down to his neck. your teeth lightly nip at his sweat slick skin, loving the reaction it pulls from him.

“‘m sorry, too, rafe. i love you. fuuuck, i love you.”

your body trembles beneath his hold, rafe’s hands slowly and softly roaming your body, drinking in every bit of you with his hands. “i love you, too.”

the band snaps, your pussy clenching tightly around rafe’s cock, your orgasm rushing through you with a call of his name. rafe isn’t too far behind you, his dick twitching inside you. he shoves himself deep inside you, a raspy moan falling from him as he paints your inner walls white with his seed.

his body falls limp beneath you, his arms wrapped around your waist as you lie your head on his chest. his fingers begin to trace lazy shapes on your back, lips kissing softly at the space between your neck and shoulder.

you break the silence first, “i’m really sorry… i- i didn’t mean anything i said, i just-”

he lifts his head, cupping your face in his hands as he forces your eyes on his. “i know. i’m sorry too, i love you, y/n. i really fucking do.”

you smile down at him, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. he pulls his hands from your face, allowing you to rest your head on his chest again. you find comfort in the silence this time, the strong beat of his heart against your face making your insides warm.

tagging a few moots: @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafesangelita @rafeyscurtainbangs @drewsarms @drewsephrry @bloodibambiidoll @babygorewhore @nemesyaaa @httpsdrewstarkey @redhead1180 @rafeinterlude

[froggiewrites]

hi I had another idea for a request! dealer’s choice on the character(s) (but if you’re stuck for an idea maybe law?), but maybe the reader gets hurt in a fight and their (slightly in denial about being in love) future love interest nurses them back to health? can be fluff or smut or whatever you want I’m not picky I just love seeing your words

thank you I still love your work please keep it up

This request is from @toadmakes, on anon since it's her sideblog! I thought this idea was so sweet, so I just made a really fluffy, self indulgent little piece. Also, I let Law be cool last time I wrote about him so of course I had to make him a flustered little nerd in this one. I hope you enjoy it!!

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Law x Reader

SFW

Summary: You get hurt protecting Law, and he's not pleased. Warnings: Fluff, Lots of Banter, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 1.3k

You don’t remember throwing yourself in front of Law, or being carried back to the Tang. You don’t remember the screams of your friends, or the shaking hands that so carefully bandaged you back up. But that’s alright, because they were all too eager to tell you how stupid you had been once you came to.

“–disgustingly irresponsible! Not to mention unnecessary! What good reason could there possibly have been to do that?” Law is the most furious you’ve ever heard him, and you fear it may be because he’s the most scared you’ve ever heard him. You don’t know how close of a call it was, but you know you hurt all over, and his eyes are shining with something someone who didn’t know better might confuse with tears.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” You try not to say it like an excuse or a plea. It’s simply fact.

His eyes shoot away from yours. You swear you see a hint of red on his cheeks, but just as quickly as you notice it, it’s gone. He clicks his tongue with displeasure before continuing. “I wasn’t going to get hurt. I could have very easily moved out of the way. You–” he sighs. “Don’t do anything like that again.”

“Well I don’t think I’ll be doing it anytime soon.” You try to give him a wry grin, but it turns more into a grimace as you shift, pain shooting through you. You’re covered head to toe in bandages, every part of you sore and bruised. You’re surprised you’re upright and conscious right now, honestly. “Can I get some painkillers?”

“You’re on enough to take down a horse.”

“But it still hurts.” You pout, and he grits his teeth and looks away from you again.

“Yeah. Almost dying tends to do that.” Even with the gruffness in his voice and face, his hands are gentle as they begin to fuss with your bandages, checking over every inch of you to ensure you’ve been properly taken care of. You could swear he hesitates slightly at checking the bandages around your thighs and chest, but he perserveres, ever the professional. You wince a few times when his hands brush a particularly tender spot, yelping when he makes slight contact with your ribs. He fiddles with the IV in your arm, and you feel a flood of relaxation and relief hit you. Looks like he found a reason to give you more painkillers after all. “You’re going to be out of commission for a long while, y’know.”

“How long?”

“At least six weeks, but probably longer.”

“What?”

“That’s nothing compared to what it could be. You have a couple broken ribs, not to mention all of the cuts and bruises. You’re lucky your organs weren’t crushed.”

“Can’t you like…shambles it away?”

“No.” His voice is flat. You look at him with wide, pleading eyes, and he scoffs at you. “Well, more like I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“If I just fix it you’ll run off and do it again, and next time you might not be so lucky.”

“Oh…so you’re just worried about me?” You giggle, filled with warmth at the idea. And maybe the pain meds. “You could just say so.”

“That’s not–” he lets out a soft choked sound when he realizes there’s no way to deny it without insisting he doesn’t care about you. As grumpy as he can be sometimes, he would never say something so unkind. Not to you. “Shut up.”

“Hey Captain?” You feel your tongue loosening with things you would never say, but you’re too out of it to stop yourself.

“Yes?”

“Do you like me?”

There’s definitely a flush to his cheeks now. “What?”

“I think you like me. A lot.”

“I–No!”

“You don’t like me?” Your voice cracks a little, tears coming far too quickly. Whatever he gave you is powerful stuff.

“That’s not–I–agh!” He roughly runs his fingers through his hair, desperately avoiding eye contact with you. “I like you. As a crewmate.”

You puff your cheeks out a bit with displeasure. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.” 

“I’ll believe you if you look at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“You’re looking at the headboard over my shoulder, Captain.”

His eyes flick to yours, and he turns an even more brilliant shade of scarlet. “I li–” His shoulders tense and he suddenly shoots up and turns away from you. “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you about this. You’re high off your ass. I bet you won’t even remember this when you wake up tomorrow.” You can see the tips of his ears burning as he gathers his things and prepares to leave.

“You’re gonna abandon me?”

“I have work to do!”

“I’m a patient, I am work!”

His voice is rising with frustration. “You’re already set up, what else is there to do?”

“I don’t know, Captain, I’m not the doctor here!” You try to raise your arm to reach out to him, only to let out a soft whine when you can barely move it.

“Please stop trying to use your broken bones.” He comes closer to gently hold your arm down, concern clear.

“It doesn’t feel broken.”

“It will soon.”

“You’re gonna let me hurt? On purpose? You’re so mean to me, Captain.”

He sighs. His thumb starts rubbing small circles onto your hand, though he doesn’t seem conscious of the action. “If I fix you up, do you promise not to do anything like that again?”

“No.”

The affectionate movements stop. “What?”

“I can’t promise that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m strong, I can take a little pain.”

“But I don’t want you to.” You know you sound petulant and childish, but you can’t stop yourself. “I don’t want you to hurt at all, I don’t care if you can handle it. You shouldn’t have to.”

“So you should?”

“Yes.”

“That’s stupid.”

You huff. “You’re stupid.”

He can’t help but break into a rare laugh, a chuckle that rumbles through him and makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s lost himself until he looks up to see you staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks red, mouth slightly agape. “What?”

“I really like you, Captain.”

He grows horribly flustered, but for once he doesn’t pull away from you. He keeps looking you in the eye, even as every part of him screams to run and avoid his embarrassment. “You do?” His tone is heart-wrenchingly hopeful.

“I do. So, so much. You’re the most beautiful and wonderful person in the world.” You can feel your smile grow dopey and lovesick. “I’d take a million hits for you. A billion, even.”

“What if it’d make me happier if you didn’t take any hits at all?”

“Then I would say you shouldn’t have let me join your crew. Getting hit is part of the job. But that’s okay. You’re worth it.” You lean forward, begging him for a single touch, since you currently can’t lift your arms. You can feel your eyes drooping, but you fight to keep them open long enough to receive what you want.

He sighs, but you can see the affectionate smile creeping onto his face. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters, resting a hand against your cheek so tenderly you could weep. “Get some rest. I’ll fix you up in the morning.”

You hum as he uses his palm to gently push you back down, his other hand on your shoulders to recline you slightly. You’re fading fast, finally losing your fight with sleep, but before you go, you swear you feel the ghost of his lips against your forehead.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[hannamoon143]

Hi, I'm here to make a request because i desperatey seek some comfort lately and since we are moots and i like your writing i thought i ask but feel free to ignore it. 😊

So I thought about the reader having a toxic family and because of that a very low self-esteem and the member (I would prefer Chan or Felix but honestly you can pick whoever you want) finds her crying because of her family and comforts her. And then she is like "Why are you even dating me?" and the member tells her how how much he loves her and how beautiful and kinde, etc. she is.

It's up to you how toxic you want her family to be. please only write what you feel comfortable with.

I just have some trouble with my own family lately. I hope you are better and remember to stay hydrated! 💕

Family...Family?

chan x fem. reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: toxic family, slight cursing, slight injury (just scratches), crying, anxiety

word count: 2,3k

a/n: hey <33 thank you for the request, and i hope it brings you some comfort. sorry that it took so long! and thank u for the kind words. i hope ur family situation is okay, feel free to talk to me. take care and now enjoy<333

not proofread!

You sat on the cold floor, your back facing the wall. Altough you tried your best not to break down, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears ran down your face, followed with pained sobs. You pulled your knees up to your chin, and wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt for comfort. It didn’t help.

What brought this break down was nothing really new for you. Your family making fun of you, and yelling hurtful words at you was something you always knew. But this time, it was just too much.

When your mother called you just before, you didn’t even want to pick up, but she was your mother right? And she sounded nice and warmhearted at the beginning. You almost didn’t want to believe it. And unfortunately you were right with not believing that forced sweet voice. After the small talk, she got to the point immediately.

Your own mother had the audicity to beg for money from your boyfriend. And she didn’t even have a good reason. It was so your brothers girlfriend wouldn’t leave him. As stupid as it sounded that’s what it was. Your brother was younger than you, and you always tried to think positively, that maybe you were just being unfair, but deep down you exactly knew that he always got better things than you. He went to a expensive private school, and you on a normal one. He got the newest i-phones, headphones and gaming tools, and you had only the old phone from him. He one time destroyed it with purpose, and what did your parents say? They were sure it was an accident and you sure were old enough to pay for your own phone. And the worst was he wasn’t even thankful.

And you don't even want to think about grades. He didn't care at all about school, having the worst grades ever. You? If you got two points less in a test, your parents would call you a failure, and then give you the silent treatment for days. You were just glad you finished school, and didn't have to share anything about university with them.

When you asked your mother for money one time, when you couldn’t afford a bus ticket, such a simple thing, she didn’t give it to you. Saying that you had healthy legs, and your family needed money for more important things. It was always like that.

So now your brother had the fakest girlfriend ever. She always smiled around your parents, and that was everything she needed to do so they would like her. She always begged your brother to buy her things, and he never hesitated to do so. But no, he didn‘t even take his own money. It was your parents‘. It was unbelievable noone saw what big of a gold digger she was. But when you moved out, you stopped trying to tell them that things were unfair, you stopped letting them treat you as if you were just a problem, that they had to tolerate.

And now your mom really had the audicity to want to take advantage of chans career and money. You could almost laugh. She always despised chan, telling you that he was not the one, and that she was sure that he was a cheater and someone that would leave you when he saw the next best girl. That was so rich coming from a woman, that cheated on her husband on a monthly base.

And coming back to the call, of course you said no. And after you said this one word, the bittersweet tone immediately dropped. She said something about what a bad family member you were, not caring for your family, when you had so much money, and your family needed it. When you still said no, she started yelling at you. You hated when she yelled. And when you couldn’t stand it anymore, you told her what of a shitty mother she has always been, and that she was the unfair one. That your whole family was just toxic, and that nothing was okay like this. That it always was like this. And maybe you should have hung up the call then. For a moment it was just silence. Then she let out a bitter,faked sob, before she literally screamed:

„You think we were unfair to you? You always had enough to eat, and a roof over your head. We never were unfair. Your brother is young, and he deserves to have love, so why won’t you help him? You are such a spoiled, little ungrateful brat y/n! I wish i never had you. Your father is stressed out because of your little manners, and your brother has to suffer because of you. And if i would ask you for money for food? I bet you wouldn’t even give us that! But okay, continue being the biggest bad decision of my life, with your spoiled, stupid singer boyfriend. And when he leaves your bitchy ass don’t come and beg for our forgiveness. Have a shitty life y/n, we won’t have contact anymore.Oh and just so you know, if you think you could ever be good enough for someone, you are living a lie.“

Then she hung up. Just like this. You always tried to convince yourself, that she had just a bad day, when she was like this. That it was hard to be a mother and a wife. But now you saw it clear. She wasn’t just like this because it was her weird way of caring or something. She just simply despised you. Probably she wouldn’t if you were a boy.

But then her words. Was she right? You were always envious of your brother, and all the things he got, also if you didn’t care as much anymore as you got older. But maybe you were ungratefull. What if chan thought the same and just didn’t leave you because he felt pity for you? Were you a brat without even really knowing it?

You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, as your tears got only more, and your thoughts continued spiraling. Maybe you should beg her for forgiveness, like you always did. You shouldn’t have yelled at her like this, she was your mother and she was right, she always gave you to eat and a roof over the head. So you were being unfair maybe…

Then slowly, another thought crept up in your mind. Her life would be easier without you. And your brothers and fathers too. Maybe chans and all your friends too. Were you really just a burden? It had to be like this, when the person you knew your whole life said that…right?

You didn’t notice how loud you were sobbing, and how hard you were digging your fingers into your head, tangled in your hair, as if you wanted to just rip the thoughts out of your head. Then the front door of your shared apartment opened. But between your loud thoughts, the sobbing and the slight ringing in your ears you didn’t hear it.

Chan’s day was exhausting, and he was just looking forward to snuggle up on the couch with you. When he got in the apartment he wanted to say that he was home, but a noise immediately caught his attention. Sobs, pained and muffled. His eyes grew wide. Did something happen? He quickly kicked his shoes off and dropped his bag to the floor, and then ran into your shared bedroom. His heart broke when he saw you sitting curled up on the floor, sobbing hard, hands tangled in your hair. He quickly ran over to you, crouching down next to you. „Y/nnie, oh my god is everything alright, are you hurt?“ he spoke with a desperate, concerned voice.

You only noticed his presence now, but you didn’t dare to look up, the words from your mother present in your mind.

Chan got only more scared when you just didn’t look up, and instead gripped your hair tighter. He gently but firmly grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands out your hair. You tried to fight him off, and you started screaming between sobs.

„Let me go, i don’t care, please, i’m not worth it.“

Chan had no idea what you meant. You just tried to scratch him with your nails so he would let go. What was going on? He never ever saw you like this. This wasn’t you. But for sure he wouldn’t let go and let you hurt yourself.

„Y/n, stop scratching me, and i’m for sure not letting go. Just try to calm down, and tell me what is going on right now.“ His voice was stern but unbelievable soft. You still fought him, your nails leaving bright red scratches on his wrists, sobbing violently. Why wasn’t he letting go when you were clearly hurting him? Why wasn’t he getting mad and yelling at you? Why wasn’t he just giving up on you like everyone else when you were like this?

But then he suddenly started gently stroking your head, with one hand, your wrists in his other one. The motion was soft and definitely not violent or madly. You stopped scratching him, and screaming your own horrible thoughts in chans face. You just looked at him now, tears streaming down your face, sobs getting quiet.

He gently smiled.

„See? Everythings alright, no reason to hurt or scream at me my love.“ He slowly released your wrists, continuing brushing over your hair soothingly.

You were confused. How was he smiling in this situation. How could he still touch you so lovingly when you just screamed in his face and hurt him? When you looked at his wrists you felt guilty.

Chan saw your body slump as you calmed down, now only silent tears rolling over your cheeks anymore.

He just looked at you, giving you time to calm down. He then slowly wrapped his arms around you, stroking your back.  Your tears were falling onto his hoodie, and you didn’t even really register when he lifted you up the floor, carrying you to the bed. He gently laid you down, and sat down next to you. He waited a bit before he spoke up again.

„Love, i need you to talk to me a bit now okay? I need to know what happened that got you feeling and acting like this, so i can help and comfort you alright? I know this wasn’t you, and i know there has to be a reason why you were breaking down like this. Just know you can tell me everything. Don’t pretend with me love.“

You sat up against the wall a bit, sniffling.

„I’m sorry i hurt you, i don’t know what got into me.“ You mumble, looking at your own hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

„I know you are sorry. It’s alright, it doesn’t hurt, it only hurted to see you like this.“

He waits for you to talk again, patiently looking at you.

„It was my mother. She called.“

His eyes softened. He knew that your relationship with your family wasn’t the best, and they weren’t that kind to you.

Then you told him everything, every word your mother said and all your thoughts to it. Your last sentence  hurt him deeper than anything else.

„…How can you even be with someone like me? I’m messed up and ungrateful and just a burden-„

He took your hands in his, looking you in the eyes.

„Y/n L/n, if you ever talk about yourself like this again i will have to worry you actually lost your mind. What your mother said, was horrible. And i want you to understand that all of that is not true. You’ve never been a burden to me, and you never could be. And did you just say you believe your not thankful enough? You y/n? The person who gets excited over the smallest things, the person who was so sweet and grateful when i forgot our anniversary and only gifted you a flower? You never wanted me for my money y/n, and you know that, and i know it too. That was always a big fear of mine, that people would only want me for money, my job and stuff. But you proved me wrong. You always loved me for me. If even, i should be happy you even want to be with me. You are the kindest, funniest and best person i know. And no matter what happens, i will always stay with you, as long as you want it. And i’ll make sure these people will never hurt you again. And you know what? I can be your family. I will always love and support you. And if you fall? Then i’m falling with you. And then we get up again, with the help of each other. Exactly like a family should.“

Tears welled up in your eyes again. But this time they weren’t from sadness and the feeling of not being good enough.

„I can’t tell you how much your words mean to me channie.“ You said, a little smile creeping to your face.

He smiled too and wrapped  his arms around you from the side again, putting his head on your shoulder.  

„That’s the smile i love.“

You wrapped your arms around him too, nuzzling your face into his hair.

„I love my new family.“ you murmured.

„How about we make it official?“ he lifts his head, so he can look into your eyes.

„What do you mean?“ You hold your breath, as you let his words sink in.

„Marry me y/n. I promise to be there for you, no matter what comes.“

For a moment it felt like the whole world stayed still. Did this wonderful man really want to be with you for the rest of his life?

Then a big joyful smile spread across your face, the tear streaks from before seemed as if they were years ago now. The joy literally radiated from you now.

„Yes, channie. Yes i’d love to be your wife.“

taglist: @0omillo0 @lina-linny @darqlys

[mononijikayu]

marutsuke — gojo satoru.

You smiled back, though it was small and fleeting. "You could start now, you know." Satoru let out a soft laugh, the sound almost bitter, but there was a hint of something lighter underneath it. He took another sip of his drink, shaking his head slightly. "You’re asking a lot of me right now, Gen–senpai. You know that?" "I’m just asking you to be human, Gojo–kun." you replied softly. “Just be yourself.”

WARNING/S: post-hidden inventory (2006-onwards), domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 5.3k words.

NOTE: i wrote this a long long while ago and to celebrate jjk ending, i would like to give this as a humble offering. i've been a fan of jjk since 2019, when my friend introduced it to me. jjk means the world to me. it was there for me as much as bts was in my harsh and painful years. i am most grateful to share and continue to share the joy of it here in my little corner of the world. thank you guys for sharing the love of jjk with me. you guys are amazing. i love you guys so much. let's continue to be fans together for a long time!!! also the song is from given. its a lovely song <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

YOU HATED THIS FEELING, YOU HATED REPETITION LIKE THIS. You stood in the dimly lit hallway, fists clenched, your eyes burning with fury as you learned what had happened to the first years. The mission had gone horribly wrong, and Haibara—kind, hopeful Haibara—was dead. Nanami barely made it back. You trembled with rage, unable to process the incompetence that had led to this.

It was just like this when it was Namie.

Your mind flashed back to the past, to the same helplessness, the same sickening weight that had crushed your chest when Namie, your dear friend, had been sent out on a mission with faulty intelligence. They hadn’t even gotten her body back. You remembered the emptiness, the cold fury that took root inside you ever since.

And then there was Amanai Riko. Another loss, another innocent life extinguished because of their arrogance, their reckless disregard for the lives they swore to protect. Your nails bit into your palms as you fought back the wave of grief and anger.

And now... now Haibara.

Another young life, snuffed out before it could even truly begin. Your breath came in short, ragged bursts as the memories collided with the present, your fury building to a boiling point. You had warned them. You had fought, had demanded better, and yet nothing had changed.

"How many more?" you whispered to yourself, your voice trembling with fury. "How many more have to die before they open their eyes?"

"They had faulty intelligence," you spat, your voice laced with venom. "Faulty intelligence, and they sent them in blind. Blind!"

Your words echoed down the empty corridor, but it wasn’t enough to release the fury simmering inside you. You stormed forward, your footsteps heavy with the weight of your anger, the hallway dim and suffocating as you advanced. The rage that coursed through your veins was more than just anger—it was righteous fury, the kind that demanded answers, demanded justice for those who had fallen.

You didn’t care about decorum or procedure. Not now. Not when another life had been so carelessly thrown away.

The sight of the mission manager at the end of the hall, sitting casually at his desk, only fueled the fire inside you. He looked up, his expression one of mild surprise as you approached—indifferent, as if the death of a student was nothing more than an inconvenience, a casualty of duty.

Indifference. That look—the one that dismissed Haibara as just another statistic, another name on a growing list of losses. It ignited something in you that was barely contained.

"You!" you hissed, your voice trembling with the intensity of your rage. The air around you seemed to crackle with tension as you marched up to the manager’s desk, eyes blazing. "You sent them in blind! Faulty intelligence, and you signed off on it like it didn’t matter! Haibara is dead because of you!"

The manager blinked, clearly taken aback by your outburst, but his calm exterior didn’t waver. He leaned back in his chair, hands folded calmly in his lap, as if he was used to this—used to the accusations, used to the aftermath. He probably expected you to eventually calm down, to accept that this was just the way things were.

But you weren’t going to calm down. Not this time.

“You think this is acceptable?" you seethed, leaning over his desk. "You think sending kids in with faulty information is just part of the job? You didn’t care about what would happen to them—you cared about following protocol, making sure you checked off the boxes so you could wipe your hands clean when it went wrong."

The manager gave a slight sigh, adjusting his glasses as if the whole situation was an inconvenience. "These missions come with risks, you know that. It’s unfortunate, but we—"

"Unfortunate?" your voice rose, fury spilling over. "You think this is just 'unfortunate'? Haibara’s dead because of your incompetence, and all you can say is that it’s unfortunate?"

The manager’s lips thinned, his calm demeanor wavering for just a moment. "We did the best we could with the information we had. It’s not always perfect—"

You slammed your hands down on the desk, silencing him immediately. Your face was inches from his now, your voice low and lethal. "No. You didn’t do the best you could. You cut corners, and you sent them in knowing it wasn’t safe. You sat behind this desk while they went out there, while they—" Your voice caught for a moment, thinking of Haibara, of Namie, of Riko. "You have no idea what it’s like to lose someone because of your arrogance."

The manager didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. His silence was answer enough.

Your fists clenched again, your whole body trembling with the effort to contain your rage. You wanted to scream, to tear this entire building apart, but all you could do was stare at the man who had signed Haibara’s death warrant with his negligence. The worst part was you knew it would happen again. As long as people like him kept making decisions, more lives would be lost.

“That’s enough.” That familiar voice. You stopped.

“You piece of shit!” you snarled, your energy crackling dangerously. You lunged, but before you could strike, Yaga intervened, gripping your arms to hold you back.

You whipped around, your rage now directed at Yaga. “You! I warned you. I fucking warned you! But you listened to those old farts, didn’t you? You think it’s okay to send them in, even blindly.” Your voice cracked with fury, your eyes burning into Yaga’s. “And now, you’re stuck having to explain to Haibara’s parents why their son isn’t alive! That blood is on your hands!”

Yaga’s grip remained firm, but his expression darkened as you pressed on.

“My father would be ashamed of you,” you said, your voice low, bitter. “You’ve become exactly what he stood against.”

Yaga’s eyes hardened at your words, but he didn’t let go. He knew your anger wasn’t just at him—it was at the system, at the higher-ups, at the entire broken system that cost Haibara his life. But your words cut deep. Mentioning your father, a man Yaga once respected, felt like a blade twisted into his gut.

"Genmei," Yaga said, his voice steady but tense, "I didn't want this. You think I don’t care? You think I don’t feel the weight of it? I never wanted to send them in like that."

"Then why did you?" you snapped, stepping closer, your face inches from his, rage seething in every word. "You could’ve stopped it. You had the authority! Instead, you caved to those senile cowards who sit behind desks, making decisions they’ll never face the consequences of."

Yaga's jaw clenched, his voice growing colder. "You think I had a choice? You think I didn’t fight back? The orders came from the top, Genmei! From people I can’t defy."

You shook your head, trembling with disbelief. "So that’s it? You just roll over and let it happen? You tell them it’s fine to send kids like Haibara to their deaths? You and those spineless managers let them go out there—for nothing."

Yaga's grip on your arms tightened slightly, but his voice remained calm. "I know you’re angry. I know this isn’t fair. But it wasn’t blind. They were prepared."

“Prepared?!” Your laughter was bitter and sharp. “You call this prepared? Haibara is dead! Nanami is broken. And now you have to look those parents in the eye and tell them their son is never coming home."

Yaga’s silence spoke louder than anything. The weight of what you said settled in, his posture stiffening with the responsibility he bore. He hadn’t spoken to Haibara’s parents yet, but he would have to. And the thought of it, the unbearable weight of it, gnawed at him.

"Every single student is my responsibility, you know that." Yaga finally said, his voice quieter now, though no less strained. "I carry that burden every day. You think I don’t feel it? That it doesn’t tear me apart? But I don’t have the luxury of rage. I have to keep moving, keep fighting—for the ones who are still here."

Your hands fell to your sides, anger simmering down to a bitter ache. You looked at Yaga, your voice softer but no less furious. "They trusted you. We trusted you. And now we’re left with nothing but grief. Don’t you dare try to justify this."

Yaga looked away, his jaw clenched. "I’m not trying to justify it. There’s no justification for it. But you think I haven’t warned them, too? We both know how they operate. But my hands—"

"Don’t tell me about your hands being tied." you interrupted, your voice sharp. "You had more than just orders. You had a choice. And Haibara Yu’s blood is on all of us for not stopping it. And I'm sure....too sure. That there will be many more. All because you can't fight against those old farts."

Silence hung between you, heavy and suffocating. Yaga’s grip on your arms loosened, his expression still hardened by guilt and responsibility. He knew it too well, he knew that it was also his fault. And perhaps, in truth, you didn't blame him that much. You knew there was nothing a teacher can do against the whole of Jujutsu society. But you can't help but be angry. Just like at your father's funeral. And that too, Yaga blames himself.

“I’m going to make them pay for this.” you said in a low, deadly voice, your anger no longer explosive but cold and resolute. “The ones responsible, the ones who allowed this to happen—they’ll know exactly what they’ve one.”

Yaga met your eyes, his voice quiet but firm. "Don’t let your anger consume you. Your father would say the same thing. This world is already full of enough darkness."

Your expression didn’t change, unfazed. "Maybe it needs a little more darkness before it can see the light. My father also knew about that."

YOU WANTED TO HAVE A SMOKE. But you were sure that the sprinklers would alert people. So you went against it. You stormed out of the manager’s office, your fury barely contained as you made your way down the empty corridor.

The cold, sterile walls felt suffocating, your mind clouded with the weight of it all—Haibara’s death, Nanami’s devastation, the recklessness of the higher-ups. You needed to see him, to confront the harsh reality of what their negligence had wrought.

The morgue was dimly lit, its stillness heavy with the presence of death. You moved quietly, but your footsteps faltered as you approached. Standing just outside, you heard voices—low, tense. You stopped.

"Why not let Gojo take care of everything?" a bitter voice sneered. It was Nanami Kento.

Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized that tone. Nanami’s words were sharp, laced with exhaustion and frustration, and just as the retort began to form on your lips, another voice cut through—calm, but strained.

"Nanami, that’s enough," Geto Suguru’s voice was tired, a weariness that weighed down each syllable. "This isn’t about Satoru. Don’t take your anger out on him just because you feel helpless. We all do."

Helpless.

The word hit you like a punch to the gut. Your body froze as Nanami’s bitter words echoed in your ears, triggering a flood of memories you had buried deep. You could still see the way Kaiko had looked at you after Namie’s death, the sharp, accusatory words that came spilling out, venomous and cruel.

"Why not let Genmei take care of everything, huh? She’s always so sure of herself, isn’t she?" Kamo Kaiko had sneered, the pain of loss warping into something uglier, something that wanted to hurt others. The same helplessness Nanami was drowning in now.

You had seen the look in Kaiko’s eyes—the same bitterness, the same exhaustion, the same desperation to place the blame somewhere, anywhere, other than the black void of grief you were all struggling to survive. And you had tried to calm Kaiko down, tried to reason with her, but the pain had been too raw, too fresh. It had escalated. Words had become fists, and by the time it was over, you were both broken in different ways. You never spoke again after that fight.

Now, hearing Nanami’s voice, the echoes of Kaiko’s bitterness in every word, your heart clenched. You couldn’t let this spiral the same way.

You stepped forward, your presence quiet but commanding. The shadows shifted as you moved, your eyes falling on Nanami, who stood rigid, his face a mask of exhaustion and grief. Geto Suguru leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his own weariness mirrored in his posture. He looked over Haibara’s body, as though he was in a trance. He was shell–shocked, you think.

"That’s enough." you said, your voice calm but firm, the weight of your past mixing with the present. You couldn’t watch this play out the same way it had before. "This isn’t about blame. None of this is about whose responsibility it is to fix things."

Nanami flinched slightly at the sound of your voice, his jaw tightening as he avoided your gaze. But you knew what he was feeling because you had been there. You had stood in his shoes, grappling with the same rage, the same helplessness, when you lost Namie.

"It’s not Gojo–kun’s fault, you know that." you continued, stepping closer, your voice softer now. "And it’s not yours. Haibara’s death wasn’t something you could have prevented. Not under these circumstances."

Nanami's fists clenched at his sides, the tension in his body radiating outwards. "I could have, senpai." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I should have."

"No." you said firmly, your voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "This wasn’t on you. Don’t let the guilt consume you, Nanami. I’ve seen it before, and I know where it leads."

The memories of Kaiko haunted you, the way grief had hollowed her out, leaving her with nothing but resentment and bitterness. You couldn’t let that happen to Nanami. Not again. This doesn’t have to continue. No one else has to suffer.

"Listen to Geto–kun, okay?" you added, your gaze softening as you looked at him. "We all feel helpless. But turning against each other won’t bring Haibara back."

Nanami’s shoulders slumped slightly, the tension in his body giving way to something closer to defeat. He didn’t respond, but you knew your words had reached him. Turning away from them, you took a breath and steel yourself. You still had one last thing to do, no matter how much it hurt.

You had to say goodbye to Haibara.

You walked out of the room, the heaviness of the conversation weighing on your shoulders. You pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, your emotions a turbulent storm beneath the surface. Your eyes immediately caught sight of Satoru, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed.

You knew, just by the way he stood, that he had heard everything. There was no need for words. His expression wasn’t the usual carefree mask he wore—it was more serious, though his eyes were still bright behind his dark shades, silently watching you.

You sighed, your frustration and exhaustion bubbling up. Without a word, you stepped closer to him and gently placed your hands over his ears, your palms lightly cupping the sides of his head. The sudden movement caught him off guard, and his eyes widened, blinking in surprise. He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to understand what you were doing.

Don’t listen, you mouthed, your lips forming the words slowly and deliberately, knowing he would understand.

For a moment, Satoru just stared at you, his gaze flickering between confusion and something softer, almost curious. His lips pressed into a flat line, and after a heartbeat of silence, he nodded, an unspoken agreement passing between you.

He wasn’t going to argue. Not this time.

You let your hands fall from his ears, giving him a weary look. There was nothing more to say. You both knew the weight of everything that had happened, and for once, Satoru didn’t push. He just stood there, understanding what you couldn’t put into words. The hallway stretched ahead of you, quiet and still, but the heaviness lingered in the air.

You let your hands fall from Satoru's ears, giving him a weary look. There was nothing more to say. You both knew the weight of everything that had happened, and for once, Satoru didn’t push. He just stood there, understanding what you couldn’t put into words. The hallway stretched ahead, quiet and still, but the heaviness lingered in the air.

The two of you wandered outside in silence, the weight of recent events hanging heavily between you. The cold night air bit at your skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the emotions you both carried. You led the way toward the vending machines just outside the building, the quiet hum of them the only sound in the stillness.

You didn’t need to look at Satoru to know he was thinking about everything that had happened. It was rare for him to be this quiet, this subdued. You pressed the buttons on the machine without a word, watching the drinks tumble down with a soft thud. You handed one to him, the cold condensation clinging to your fingers as you took your own.

Satoru cracked open the can, the fizz breaking the silence between you. You took a slow sip of your drink before finally speaking.

“It’s not your fault, you know.” you said quietly, your voice steady but carrying the weight of someone who had seen this all before. "You can’t blame yourself for what happened."

Satoru didn’t respond right away. He took a long drink, his gaze fixed on the horizon, the usual brightness in his eyes dimmed by something heavier, more complex. He leaned against the vending machine, one hand loosely holding the can, the other shoved in his pocket. His shades were off now, dangling from his collar.

“I think it is, Genmei–senpai.” he finally said, his voice low, almost resigned. His gaze drifted down to the ground. “If I were just a little stronger, a little faster... if I had trained them better, maybe… maybe they wouldn’t be dead.”

Your chest tightened. You had heard these words before, a thousand times in different voices. From yourself, from others who had lost people they cared about. It was the familiar cycle of grief and guilt. Gojo Satoru doesn’t easily fuss over his feelings. This was the first time truly, you think, that he’d willingly told you what he felt. Without you having to ask. In a way, you think that has reminded you of yourself, even for a little bit.

"You can't control everything, Gojo–kun." you replied softly, stepping beside him. "Not even you. It wasn’t your decision to send them on that mission. You weren’t the one who messed up the intel. And you’re not the one who could have stopped it from going wrong."

He clenched his jaw, clearly wrestling with the weight of his own thoughts. Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer alive, the one who always acted like nothing could touch him—was grappling with the very human feeling of failure. It was a rare sight, one that he kept hidden behind his usual bravado. But here, in the quiet, there was no mask to hide behind.

"Being strong doesn’t mean being able to protect everyone. That’s impossible." you added, your voice quiet but firm. "Trust me, I know. We all do."

Satoru stared at his drink, the carbonation slowly rising to the surface. He let out a long breath, his fingers tightening around the can as if holding on to something he couldn’t quite grasp.

"I don’t know if I can ever believe that, you know?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "If I’m not strong enough to protect them, then what’s the point of being the strongest?"

You didn’t answer right away. You let his words hang in the air, knowing that there was no simple reply that could ease his burden. The truth was, you understood. You had felt the same way when your precious Namie died, when Amanai Riko  was killed. The strength to protect felt meaningless when it failed you.

But you also knew that blaming yourself for every loss would only eat away at you, piece by piece. And you knew better than to wallow in it all. You wouldn’t be able to get up from your bed if it's all that consumes you. You didn’t want your dreams. You wanted to be awake. In your dreams, it was regret. In your reality, it was moving forward. And you’d choose a thousand cigarettes then see Namie’s eyes look at you like that again. You’d choose days awake rather than seeing Kaiko take her last breaths right in front of you again.

"The point, Gojo–kun," you finally said, your voice softer now, "is that you’re human. No matter how strong you are, no matter what kind of power you have, you’re still human, Gojo–kun. And that means sometimes... you’ll fail. It doesn’t make you any less strong. It just makes you... you."

He looked at you then, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his bright cerulean eyes—an acknowledgment, maybe. He didn’t argue, didn’t dismiss your words like he normally would. Instead, he just took another sip of his drink and nodded slightly.

“Maybe……” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

You stood there in the quiet, the weight of your conversation lingering in the cold night air. For once, there were no easy answers, no quick fixes. Just two people, sharing a drink, carrying the same burden of loss.

You tilted your head back slightly, looking up at the night sky. The stars were faint tonight, dimmed by the city lights, much like how everything felt dulled in the aftermath of grief. You took another sip from your drink, letting the cool liquid ground you in the present, away from the spiraling thoughts of what could have been.

After a long silence, you spoke again, your tone quieter, almost contemplative. "You know, you don’t always have to carry everything by yourself, Gojo–kun."

He glanced at you, but didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still clouded with that familiar weight.

"I know you feel like it’s all on you, Gojo–kun." you continued, turning your gaze to him. "Like you're responsible for every life, every outcome. But you're not. And it’s okay to feel... this way. To feel like you’ve failed. But that doesn’t mean you have."

Satoru stared at the ground, the quiet stretching on for a few heartbeats. Then, without looking at you, he spoke, his voice softer than before. “You say that like you don’t carry it, too.”

Your grip on the can tightened slightly. You felt the truth of his words settle uncomfortably in your chest. You did carry it—always had. The weight of those you couldn’t save, the memories of missions gone wrong, the faces of the dead. You carried them all, and sometimes it felt like too much. But that wasn’t something you would admit to easily.

"You’re right. Your senpai’s a hypocrite." you said after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. A weary smile on your lips. "I do, don’t I? But I’m learning how to let some of it go. To not let it destroy me…..I have to learn, as you do.”

Satoru finally looked at you, his gaze searching, as if he was trying to understand something he couldn’t quite grasp. There was a vulnerability in his expression, one that he rarely let show. You know that you knew the answer. And so does he. But it was easy to ignore, when you’re given the world to carry.

"How?" he asked, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

You looked away, your eyes drifting back up to the sky. "By realizing that it’s not all on me. That I’m not the only one who’s hurting. And by letting people in, even when I don’t want to. It’s not easy, and I’m still figuring it out... but I’m trying."

Satoru was silent, processing your words. You knew how hard it was for him to let people in, to show any weakness. He had built walls so high that even those closest to him struggled to see through them. But here, in this quiet moment, you could feel those walls cracking, if only just a little.

“I guess I’ll have to try that sometime.” he muttered, his lips curling into a faint, tired smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You smiled back, though it was small and fleeting. "You could start now, you know."

Satoru let out a soft laugh, the sound almost bitter, but there was a hint of something lighter underneath it. He took another sip of his drink, shaking his head slightly. "You’re asking a lot of me right now, Gen–senpai. You know that?"

"I’m just asking you to be human, Gojo–kun." you replied softly. “Just be yourself.”

The silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as before. It was the kind of quiet that settled between people who understood each other, who didn’t need to fill the space with empty words.

After a while, Gojo Satoru straightened up, his usual mask of nonchalance slipping back into place. But something had changed, even if just a little. He glanced at you, a glimmer of his old self returning to his eyes.

"Alright." he said, pushing off from the vending machine. "I’ll try not to carry everything on my back... but don’t expect me to go soft, okay? Can’t have everyone thinking I’m losing my touch."

You rolled your eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at your lips. "Wouldn’t dream of it, Gojo–kun."

He chuckled, tossing his empty can into the recycling bin with a casual flick of his wrist. “Good. Now, how about we get out of here? There’s only so much doom and gloom a guy can take. I wanna go and eat some burgers! Oh, oh and have a milkshake. Come on Gen-senpai! Don't be such a slow poke!”

You watched as he started walking away, his usual swagger returning to his step. Despite everything, despite the grief and the guilt, he was still Satoru Gojo. And that, in its own way, was comforting. You lingered for a moment, finishing off your drink before following him. The weight of the night hadn’t disappeared, but somehow, it felt a little easier to bear now.

epilogue

The afternoon sun bathed the park in a warm, golden glow, casting everything in a soft light that made the moment feel almost timeless. It was a day without expectations or duties—a rare occasion for you and Satoru, a time when neither of you needed to be the strongest sorcerers alive. Instead, you were just yourselves, surrounded by the warmth of your little family.

You sat on a bench under the shade of a sprawling tree, the leaves swaying gently in the breeze. From your seat, you watched Tsumiki and Megumi, their carefree laughter ringing out as they chased each other across the grass.

Fushiguro Megumi’s small smile hinted at how much he enjoyed these quiet moments with his sister, even though he pretended to let her win. His protectiveness over Tsumiki was subtle but undeniable, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched their innocent game unfold.

Beside you, Satoru was sprawled out lazily on the bench, his sunglasses resting atop his head, soaking in the warmth of the sun. Satoshi, your energetic bundle of joy, was clinging to his father’s arm, trying to climb him like he was a human jungle gym. The sight of Satoru—so relaxed and utterly at ease—was a rare one, a moment where he let down his guard completely.

“Baby!” Satoru said, glancing over at you with a mischievous grin. “I think our son’s trying to take me down. Think he’s got the makings of a future jujutsu sorcerer?”

You chuckled, brushing a few strands of Satoshi’s hair out of his eyes. “Maybe he’s just training to be strong like you, don’t you think?” you teased, giving Satoru a playful look. “You’ll have to watch out—he might surpass you one day.”

Satoru sat up dramatically, hoisting Satoshi into his lap. “Surpass me? Oh no, not on my watch!” He declared, tickling your son until Satoshi was giggling uncontrollably. “Satoshi, my little dawn, promise me you won’t steal my title as the strongest!”

Gojo Satoshi, between fits of laughter, batted at his father’s chest. “Papa! No tickle!”

The sound of your son’s pure joy, Satoru’s playful antics, and the peace of this moment filled your heart. For once, there was no looming threat, no mission pulling you away. It was just the simple beauty of a family enjoying a sunny day.

Megumi, a little winded from chasing his sister, wandered over with his usual stoic expression, though you could see the faintest trace of a smile. You couldn’t resist teasing him. “Are you done showing off?”

Megumi shrugged, his tone as nonchalant as ever. “I wasn’t showing off. Tsumiki just needed to win.”

Satoru reached out and ruffled Megumi’s hair affectionately. “Such a gentleman. You’re really going soft on your sister, huh?”

Though Megumi swatted Satoru’s hand away, his eyes softened. “......She deserves it” he mumbled, trying to keep his fondness for Tsumiki hidden.

Tsumiki, noticing the conversation, ran over, her cheeks flushed from the chase. She flopped down onto the grass beside Megumi, leaning against him with a contented sigh. The two siblings sat close together, exchanging quiet smiles. You could see how much they meant to each other—the bond that had formed between them was one of the most precious things in your life.

Satoru stretched out his legs, balancing Satoshi on his knee. “You know, I think this is nice.” he said, his tone suddenly thoughtful. “We should do this more often.”

You turned to look at him, curious. “Do what? Actually relax?”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah. I like this better—just us. Just our little family, you know? No titles, no missions. Just being.”

There was something so genuine in the way he said it. You leaned into him slightly, reaching for his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours. “I like this too, you know?” you said softly, squeezing his hand.

He smiles back at you with the most beautiful, warm gaze. He squeezes your hand back. “I know.”

Megumi and Tsumiki sat quietly, watching your interaction with curiosity but not interrupting. You could tell they were starting to understand the unspoken bond you and Satoru shared—the love that transcended the roles you played in the world.

Satoru let out a soft sigh, leaning back against the bench, tugging you closer. Satoshi, who had grown tired from all the excitement, settled comfortably in his father’s lap, his small hands gripping Satoru’s shirt. The park, bathed in the soft afternoon light, seemed to wrap you all in a blanket of calm.

“If you weren’t around to keep me sane…..” Satoru mused, glancing over at you. “I might’ve forgotten what a day off even feels like.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure you’d figure it out. You’ve always been good at pretending the world’s problems don’t exist.”

Satoru grinned, though there was a softness to his voice. “Maybe. But this…” He looked down at Satoshi, then over at Megumi and Tsumiki, who were now engrossed in their own conversation. “This is real. This is what matters.”

His words struck a chord in you. For so long, your lives had revolved around the constant threat of danger, the weight of responsibility. But here, at this moment, it was just the four of you—your makeshift family—enjoying a quiet afternoon in the park.

Leaning into Satoru’s warmth, you whispered, “Yeah, this is what it’s all about.”

The park’s hum continued around you: the distant laughter of children, the rustling leaves, and the occasional chirp of birds. But in your little bubble, time seemed to slow down. For a moment, there was no past, no future—just the present, where everything felt exactly as it should.

You rested your head on Satoru’s shoulder, Satoshi nestled between you both, and Megumi and Tsumiki chatting softly beside you. In this quiet, peaceful moment, you realized that despite the chaos of your lives, these simple, precious moments made all the struggles worth it.

And for now, that was more than enough.

[luveline]

hey! would you mind writing sirius black x reader (ole flame or something) when they meet for the first time since azkaban at a meeting for the order? thank you and happy holidays!

thank u for requesting, hope this is OK! ♡

—you and sirius both get to go home eventually, 2.2k. fem

You were still kids when Sirius… went away. You thought he hurt James and Lily, and it didn't matter that you loved him because he was evil and cruel and he hurt the people he loved most in the world, and then you were outposted thousands of miles eastward, your life a shadow. 

Remus sent you letters. You always answered, even when it hurt, but his last was too much to believe. You told yourself that someone forged his handwriting through a curse or some new gimmick, and then a second arrived with a smaller envelope hidden inside. 

No name written on it. No Dear anything to begin. 

Things are different to what you've been told. Please come home, it said. This penmanship was shaken like a hand out of practice, but something felt familiar in the curves and dots. 

If Remus’ letter (and the second smaller one too) were in fact telling the truth, it means you did something awful, and so, for a while, you don't go. 

Please, the next letter says, again enclosed within a larger explanation from Remus, I'm sorry. I just want to see you again. 

Getting home isn't as simple as he might think. You have to picture the destination very clearly to disapparate, and you have no sustained recollection anymore of the places you used to go. You remember silly things, slices of memories; the four of them laughing in a big green field, the sweet smell of hair oil to your left; the beige walls of a rented flat where you'd lay in bed for hours, sometimes days at a time, before things got too terrible to sleep; a string-lit garden that last summer, hands of poker on a glass table. These places aren't real anymore. You can't go back to them. 

Upon your request, Molly forwards you an address and a secret code. 

Trains, buses, trains again. A long walk through a cold street. Some secret this or that. You arrive in the night and a frowning face ushers you in, past a painting sealed away and up the creaking stairs. You spend hours sitting on the end of a bed coated in dust waiting for the sun to rise, your back stiff with nerves. You could slip out before anyone else knows you're here, it's not as if Moody would give you away. But why did you come, if you were going to run straight back to your outpost? 

You don't want Sirius’ betrayal to be true, of course. It took your breath away imagining what it would mean if he hadn't done what you thought. If it's all lies (as it seems to be), if he's innocent as he and Remus claim, it means you turned your back on him and left him to suffer, and he's still asking you to come home. 

A few people stir for breakfast. Molly, who's voice you remember, and some younger sounding ones that may be her children, or perhaps the newer Order recruits. Then comes Remus’ voice. He sounds different. Less Welsh, more tired. Homely anyways as he passes your door with someone beside him. 

“...any day now,” he's saying, “try not to worry.” 

“I do worry. I've worried about it every day for years.” 

You freeze up. 

The stairs creak, Remus’ voice moving further away. “She doesn't need worrying.” 

Sirius must stay at the top of the stairs for a moment. He sounds close. “I wouldn't know what she needs.” 

“Come have some breakfast.” 

“I'll write her again.” 

“After breakfast.” 

“What if she doesn't come?” 

“After breakfast,” Remus insists. “She can ignore you once we've had toast.” 

“I forgot how funny you are,” Sirius mutters. 

Hearing his voice fills you with doubt. He sounds nothing like he used to, no easy confidence to be heard, just fatigue. 

You look down at your hands. Hearing his voice has a new emotion sprouting, too. When you first learned what had happened to your friends, you felt anger like a knife everywhere you went. How could he do that to them? How could he do it to you, be that person, ruin everything you'd loved and made together? But later, when anger faded and grief ached, you'd missed the Sirius you loved. Shamefully, in longing pangs, you'd toss and turn to dreams where things were different. 

Now there's a chance he might still be that person, and you're hiding from him in his own house. 

“There's someone here,” Molly says as you leave your room, her voice nearly too quiet to hear from the kitchen. “Moody's told me this morning.” 

“What?” Arthur asks. 

“Who?” a younger voice says. 

A small intermission of quiet. “Well, I don't know,” Molly says eventually, though she must have guessed it was you from the letter you sent. “But I'll need another loaf of bread. You'd better go, boys.” 

“Mum,” one whines. 

“Come on now.” 

The stairs whimper as you descend, the bannister sticky with old gloss under your hand. Paisley wallpaper and drapes catch your eye as you pass the overflowing shoe rack. There must be more people here than you'd thought. The coat stand is similarly overloaded. 

You can see into the kitchen as soon as you take the last step down. Molly stands wringing a dish cloth between her hands, two teenage boys at the kitchen table. Remus stands near her right with a cup of tea, and when he sees you, he genuinely smiles. 

“Oh, good,” he says, the scar that bisects his lip pulling as he takes a sip of tea. 

The teenagers turn to see you. “Bread, boys! Arthur, you can go with them," Molly says.

Arthur doesn't complain. You falter in the hallway, quiet as the trio of Weasley's leave the kitchen in their slippers to take a quiet exit from the front door. They smile politely as they go, but the boys whisper as the door shuts behind them. You wonder if they have an inkling of who you are, and then you wonder what you might say now they're gone. 

Molly remains, inquisitive to know that you need privacy but also the security of her company. She was always smart like that.

“Come in, then,” Remus says. 

“I–” You clear your throat. “I'm not sure I should.” 

A startle of silverware against china. 

Remus gives you one of his looks. It has tears threatening to well. Why didn't I fight to see him more? you think. Suddenly years have passed and he's changed, but his reassuring glances remain. It's like he's saying everything is fine, why wouldn't everything be fine? Chin up, dove.

Sirius appears in the doorway. Dark circles beneath grey eyes, his cheeks gaunt with hunger rather than the sleek sharpness he once possessed. He's still pretty, if wounded. It's as though you've found an old photo of him that's been smudged with age. He's stepped out of one of your moulding albums to haunt you. 

“Angel,” he breathes, his hand clasped low on the doorway, “you're here.” 

You look past him to Molly and Remus. There isn't a reality nor dimension where they'd let him stay here if they didn't believe his innocence. Remus explained it all in the letter and still you worried if he might have gotten it wrong, and simply believed what he wanted to believe, but it's not possible. Remus loved James so much, he would've killed Sirius himself if he really thought Sirius was the secret keeper who betrayed them. 

So. It's a relief to be home. 

You stare at him. “You look tired,” you say quietly. 

“I'm fine. I am.” 

He seems alright, considering. You'd even say he was handsome with his hair pushed away from his face, a dark shadow of stubble around his mouth, but he looks exhausted.  

You're expecting him to say what you'd say. How could you ever think I'd do it? 

Sirius was prone to similar bouts of pride, or righteousness, justice, whatever you want to call it, but he doesn't bother with that now. He looks at you as though you're the only person on earth, gaze narrowed but eyes wide, pain between his brows as he asks, “What's wrong?” 

Your hand finches up to your cheek to wipe the sudden tear away. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Your Sirius. 

“Don't be upset,” he pleads. 

“How can I not be? I left you all alone for so long.” 

He laughs roughly. “Sweetheart, what were you supposed to do?” 

“Not just give up.” 

“You thought it was me. That's the only thing you could've done. Either of you,” he says, gesturing backward with his hand. “It was hard… to know who to trust, at the end. It's not your fault.” 

You really were only kids together, not half as in love as James and Lily, but that doesn't mean you weren't mad for each other. He looked after you. You would've had a life, you think. 

“You were just gone,” you say, looking down at the floor between you, eyes tracing lines of wood grain. “Everyone. There was nobody left. And I just let you go.” 

“Do you want to come here?” he asks. You lift your head. His hand is barely in front of him, fingers open, palm up. 

It's like taking a stranger's hand for the first few seconds. You keep them low between you both, unfamiliar to each other. But, you find, as his fingers wrap around yours in that selfish way they used to do, squeezing rather than intertwining to make all of them fit, he remembers you.

You step a little closer, your arm to his chest, and look up at him through your lashes. It would melt him like a candle near a furnace, this look. He'd be smug or seething about something and you'd sidle in to stand between his shoes, unsure of what to say but determined to be there for him. It's the same now.  

“What's wrong?” he asks under his breath. 

“I left you all alone,” you repeat. 

“It wasn't your choice, okay?” He smooths his free hand from your elbow to your upper arm. 

Molly says something to Remus. He chuckles and says something in return. Happier to admit it if it's only for Sirius’ ears, you say, “I'm really sorry, Sirius. I miss you every day.” 

“I miss you too,” he says. 

You push your arms around his waist and hide your face in his chest, feeling for the lines of who he used to be, the dip of his spine in his back or the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts. You regret hugging him at all, until he puts his arm behind your head, a shaky breath released against your crown. 

I'm scared, he'd said. But I don't want you to be scared, okay? Barely twenty, he smelled of the sticky red powder on the end of matches after a night doing things he couldn't tell you about. You could tell him you loved him, and he you, but you weren't to discuss Order business. We'll be okay. 

But Lily–

Everyone's going to be fine. I promise. 

“You promised,” you say to yourself. Too quiet for him to hear, but he does. 

“I promised you so many things I'm not sure what one you mean,” he says with a disappointed laugh. 

You pull away, taking his face into two hands. “How do you feel?” you ask, ignoring the tremble working up from your wrists. 

“What?” His eyes are dark. 

“How are you? Did they– I mean, are you okay? Are you sick?” 

“Remus has patched me up. And Cordelia, the medwitch, you know her?” 

“I don't know anyone. I've been away.” 

He nods sadly. “Yeah. Well, you look the same.” 

“I don't.” 

“You do! You look the same,” —he almost sounds happy, his lips curling into a smile— “sweetheart. Sweetheart–” He closes his eyes. 

You push his hair behind his ears. “You don't look the same,” you confess, “you have wrinkles, right… here.” You touch the corners of his eyes. 

“You're still beautiful.” 

“Mm. You can't even see me.” 

“I don't need to see you. I knew you would be.” 

You rise up to kiss his cheek gently. “It's like you're back, like– like, I always felt like you were gone. And now you're home again. You are home, aren't you?” 

He covers your hand with one of his. “You're here, so–” 

You laugh together nervously. “Yeah, I'm here.” 

“I have stuff to do to make it right.” 

“Then we'll do it.” 

“Okay,” he says. He swallows a breath, and wraps you in a surprisingly tight hug. “Did you read my letters?” 

I don't want anything from you. Just to see you're okay. 

“I read them. I'm okay. Don't I look okay?” 

“You look perfect. Just like the last time I saw you,” he says. It startles you how suddenly he sounds like he did when you were young, his flirting drawl, voice velveteen. 

“Not like that,” you laugh. 

He pulls you as close as you can be, rough now, his arms solid around you. “I missed that,” he says, rubbing your back. “I forgot how you sound when you laugh.” 

You've led very different lives. “I didn't forget yours.” 

“You wouldn't. You love having things to hold against me.” 

You stroke his hair. “Maybe a little.” 

[waldau-archived]

hii i would like to request a fake dating scoups x reader au where the reader falls first but coups falls harder <3 thank u!

here you go anon, hope you like this :)

reset — choi seungcheol | 2,008 words | fluff, hurt/comfort

cheol brainrot go brrrr

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

technically speaking, the party’s going fine.

despite how much you want to hate it, it’s going the way parties do. there’s music, there’s alcohol, there’s your own corner if you want to tune out the sound of everything else, and there’s seungcheol’s friends. he’s spent at least half an hour introducing you to everyone — you’ve met a lot of them before, but there’s still some new ones. there’s always new ones.

and even though they’ve been nothing but polite to you, engaging you in conversation and making an effort to learn more about you, you can’t shake off the feeling that this isn’t really where you’re supposed to be.

you don’t know who you were kidding when you agreed to be his fake date for the party. he’s already had a ton of people hanging onto him throughout the course of the night. you’re not sure why he even bothered asking you. he could have asked his manager to find someone that would actually match with him, and maybe create a big splash if it made it to the news.

instead, he’d asked you out.

it won’t make a difference in the news, anyway, he’d said, like he wasn’t aware of the way he shattered your heart with those words. like it was common knowledge that nobody could even imagine the two of you together. like it wasn’t worth anyone’s time or imagination, most of all his.

suddenly, you find the sounds in the room too loud to bear. it’s not the first party you’ve been to, but it’s the first one where you’ve felt truly alone. you’re glad you haven’t touched your drink yet.

no one’s really paying attention to you exclusively, and you’re okay with nodding along and throwing in an occasional response here and there. but then it’s not okay, anymore. you shouldn’t have to be here in the first place, on this stupid fake date you agreed to because of your little crush on seungcheol.

okay, maybe it’s not just a little crush. but the point is that you shouldn’t have to be here hurting your feelings in order to spend a little time with him.

you excuse yourself under the pretense of having to take a call and head towards the balcony. joshua, one of seungcheol’s closest friends, comes up to ask you if everything’s okay. you’ve been friends with him for long enough that he can tell when you're fine and when you're not, but you give him a look that hopefully conveys you want him to let this slide.

“seungcheol mentioned this isn’t really your thing, so let him know if you want to go home. i know he’ll be okay with that.”

you nod wordlessly, words of gratitude stuck in your throat. what seungcheol tells you is true — joshua is just too damn perceptive.

you feel like you can finally take a better breath when the door shuts behind you, separating you from everyone else. the cold air makes you feel better, even if it’s beginning to seep into your skin because of the outfit you’ve worn.

it doesn’t matter, though. you need a bit of a reset.

somehow, it hardly takes four minutes before you feel someone behind you. and it’s not just anyone.

“do you have a death wish or something?”

you choose not to grace him with an answer.

“hey,” seungcheol prompts when you don’t reply. “what’s up?”

“shouldn’t i be asking you that?”

seungcheol steps to your side and looks at you. even though you’re gazing down at the empty road sparsely dotted with streetlights, you can feel his gaze pierce you.

“do you want to go home?” he asks softly.

it hurts. he shouldn’t be this considerate to you and then not like you back. it can't just be one without the other.

“i don’t know, do you?”

he sighs. “okay. i don’t know what i’ve done wrong, but i can tell you’re not comfortable right now. are you done for tonight?”

you shake your head. “i don’t want you to leave because of me. it seemed like you were having fun back there.”

“and you weren’t,” he replies, reading between the lines.

“it doesn’t matter, okay? it’s not your fault i’m not having fun.”

“that’s not how this works,” seungcheol stresses, stepping forward to grip your arms and recoiling a bit. “you’re cold.”

you shrug. another thing that’s not gone well today.

seungcheol takes off his jacket and hands it to you without any hesitation, but you don’t take it. you can’t keep living in your little daydream, living on moments where you think he might love you just a bit more than he would a friend. one of you needs to break the cycle, and if it’s going to be you, you’re prepared.

“seriously, what is wrong with you?” he asks, soft but sharp. you finally look him in the eyes. he has that gaze — the one where it looks like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. it scares you sometimes, the way he’s so accurate. he must have picked up something from joshua over the years.

“nothing’s wrong with me, cheol,” you say, slightly bitter. “just because i don’t want your jacket doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”

"you're right, i'm sorry," he says, taking a step closer to you. "i shouldn't have said it like that. but...it's not just about the jacket. at first i thought i caught you on an off day, but you seemed fine till we got here. i don’t know what happened after that. are you hungry? did someone say something to you? do you need me to punch anyone?”

you give him an exasperated look. “you’d punch someone if i asked?”

“in a heartbeat. i thought you knew that by now.”

“and if i was wrong?”

“you’re never wrong when it comes to things like these. and i’d forgive you even if you were.”

"you're too trusting, you know that?"

"well," seungcheol says, lowering the jacket. but it's still in front of you, still on offer. "you're my best friend. i think you have some privilege."

you hate the earnestness in his voice as much as you love it. “i know. sorry.”

“don’t apologize, sweetheart. tell me what’s wrong, and tell me how i can fix it. i’ll do anything.”

“it’s…nothing you can do,” you say, turning away from him. it's most definitely not in his control, but it’s not your fault for loving him, either.

“how will you know if you don’t try?”

“you just know some things, cheol. trust me on that.”

“yeah? like i know you’re hiding something from me right now? something that’s eating my best friend up, and i don’t even know what to do to help?”

again. those two words. they tear you up from the inside just as much as they hold you together. you can’t help the sharp feeling in your throat which indicates tears might be on the way. you're just frustrated at the unfairness of it all. if only life was a little kinder.

seungcheol, ever perceptive, notices immediately. “sweetheart? it’s something i did, isn’t it? something i said?”

you shake your head, not wanting tears to well up.

“don’t lie to me,” he says, draping the jacket over your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace. you push him away, even though you whole body wants nothing more than to be with him.

“please tell me?”

you take in a breath, the cold night air stinging your nose. “you said something.”

“what was it?”

“you said it wouldn’t make a…difference, if i was your date,” you say, focusing so much on not crying that your voice is barely audible to your own ears. “you said it like no one would care if we were together. like it wouldn’t affect you in any way. like i’m just…your best friend. and no one can see me as anything more.”

seungcheol sucks in a sharp breath. “can i hold you? please?”

you almost refuse, but decide otherwise. you’ve spilled out your mind to him, anyway. the least you deserve is a hug from him.

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes into your hair, his arms looped around your waist and holding you close to him. “i didn’t— i’d never say something like that. that’s not what i meant when i said it.”

“then what did you,” mean, you mean to ask, but your breath gets swept away when he presses a kiss to your head.

“it’s just…everyone knows how close we are,” he says, hand gently running up and down your back. “i thought people wouldn’t bat an eye if they assumed we were dating, you know. i know people who already think we are. or…that we should.”

you look up at him at that. he looks serious about what he’s saying, but also shy, like he doesn’t want you looking at him when he’s speaking.

“people?”

“some of my close friends.”

that's news to you. “so you don’t mind…people thinking we’re a thing? or thinking we should be?”

“of course not,” he says, holding you with one hand and tracing your cheekbone with the other. you fall for him just a bit more, right there. “anyone would be lucky to have you. i’d be the luckiest guy to have you.”

he just says things like that, and it makes you wonder if he really means them. so you decide to push him this time, and see where it goes. and blame it on your nerves and the drink you never had if things don’t go well. “would you?”

“want to have you?”

you nod, breath trapped in your throat.

“yeah,” he breathes out, leaning forward and tucking his chin in your shoulder.

you swear your world stops for just a second. you’re hardly even aware that he’s leaning on you now.

"yeah as in?"

“i’d like you to take you out for a real date. if you’ll let me.”

you pull away to look at seungcheol. he’s blushing, but he’s not looking away.

"if i'll let him, he says."

"well?" seungcheol lifts a hand to fix your hair.

“this isn’t a joke?”

he steps back and rubs his face, probably in an attempt to brace himself for whatever he wants to say. it doesn’t work. you like him like this, you think. with his hair messy and his eyes shy.

“of course not. i’d never joke about something like this. especially when it’s you.”

you should be the one who's shy and blushing, and yet there's nowhere else you'd rather look. “what made you…”

seungcheol takes your hands. they're a warm contrast to your cold ones. “i’ve been wrestling with it for a while, and i never told you because i didn’t want things between us to be weird. but i couldn’t keep faking it after i saw you tonight. you look so good, it’s been killing me.”

you shake him off to loop your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, feeling a bit braver. “so if i told you i wanted to leave right now…”

he swallows loud enough for you to hear. “we’d be out of here right now.”

you stand on your tiptoes to bring yourself to his height and place a little kiss on his nose.

he pouts. “that’s it? that’s all i get after confessing to you?”

“i don’t want our first kiss to be in front of an audience, cheol.”

seungcheol smiles. “fair. but i don’t know how much longer i can wait now.”

“you’re going to have to ask me out for real, you know.”

“but you haven’t told me you like me back yet,” seungcheol says. you can hear the whine in his voice and it makes you laugh a bit.

“you need to hear me say it?”

“of course i do! i've spent weeks thinking about tonight.”

“aren't you lucky, then?" you tease.

“the luckiest,” he says solemnly.

it's your turn to blush now.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi

[alcoholfreenayeon]

Can u do like Nayeon make up sex like pairing: sensitive fem reader and Nayeon forgot like their anniversary ? It's okay if not?

Heaven

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long to do this anon😭❤️ it’s slightly rushed because I won’t have time rest of the day. Hope you like it.

CW: fluff, smut, nsfw

Nayeon got on the bed, quickly getting under the blanket, shuddering and smiling as the warmth begins to spread. She takes a cold breath and shifts closer to you.

You try to ignore her, continuing to read your book, not wanting to complain before you are sure Nayeon hasn’t got any last minute surprises.

“Leave your book for a moment baby, I want to cuddle you and warm myself up”, Nayeon asks, leaning into you.

“I see…”, you turn to the next page, not even looking at her.

“Huh..? That’s it? You aren’t even looking at me…”, Nayeon sounds a bit hurt, “is something wrong?”

You feel a bit bad for being cold but you felt hurt too. This wasn’t any day. Today was your one year anniversary with her. An important day for you and for her. Your lives were changed on this day and Nayeon seemed to have absolutely no clue of it right now.

“…..not really.”, you say plainly.

Now Nayeon becomes quite sure that you are mad at her. “Wait, did I mess up?”, she thinks carefully, her memory going back to this morning when you gave her some flowers, a bracelet and some chocolate. “Oh….its our anniversary…”, Nayeon looks panicky, knowing it means a lot to you. She immediately pulls you closer, hugging you tight. “Wait I’m so sorry, I really forgot.”, she kisses your cheeks a couple times.

You keep quiet, taking a heavy breath, not hugging her back.

“Mmmm…baby, please. Don’t be mad, I’m really very sorry. I won’t make excuses but it wasn’t on purpose.”, Nayeon continues to plead.

You glance at her, probably a mistake because now seeing her like this made you feel guilty now and before you realized, you moved your hands around her lightly.

That’s all Nayeon needed. She gasps and hugs you tighter, smiling mischievously knowing your resolve is breaking. “Oh thank you for forgiving me love.”, she says dramatically, “I’ll make it up to you.”

“N-no….wait, I didn’t…”, you try to protest and sigh, annoyed at yourself for doing that.

Nayeon pulls away, grinning at you. She then kisses you and you kiss her back. What was the point in being annoyed at her anyway, she didn’t actually mean to hurt you and besides you both know you can’t stay mad at her for long.

After a few seconds you begin to pull away but Nayeon grabs your face and begins to kiss you harder and you can’t help but moan into the kiss. Immediately you feel your face turn red. But you try and pretend nothing happened, trying your best to keep kissing her back without losing your mind.

After a minute Nayeon pulls away, leaving you both panting. She was smirking mischievously at you, biting a finger. “You know y/n, it’s still only 10…I think I can give you a last minute gift.

It’s takes a moment for you to catch her drift. Your face flushes again as she leans in again, “W-wait, that’s-”.

She shuts you up by kissing you again and you don’t put up any fight. After what seems like eternity she finally pulls back, you are panting and breathing hard. But you can’t deny you are starting to feel hot.

“You know”, Nayeon whispers in your ear, “you are looking really delicious right now…”.

You stay quiet, biting your lip and trying not to moan as Nayeon starts to kiss your neck. She keeps leaving marks as she moves lower and lower. You don’t even protest, what she was making you feel right now was…primal…indescribable.

Nayeon gropes and plays with your tits for a few moments, kissing and licking to her fill before moving down again. You can’t seem to remain calm, each breath is labored, like it takes so much effort to do anything else other than focus on what Nayeon was making you feel.

She undresses you and looks up at you from between your legs, smirking as she teases by making a finger touch you so lightly. You can barely feel it yet it feels so…intense. You swallow, take a shaky breath, “N-nayeon please”.

She giggles, “so eager for me….cute.” She then proceeds to rub your pussy and you gasp. She feels you are already slick and flashes you another naughty look. “You really are so excited for this…don’t worry, I’ll make it really good.”

You don’t say anything, you can only moan as she suddenly pushes two fingers in you. It feels amazing. It feels right.

Nayeon begins to work her magic and within a few moments you are writhing in pleasure under her. She uses her other hand to touch you all over, your tits, stomach, thighs, everywhere.

As she keeps her fingers in you, hitting all the right spots, you feel your release rapidly approaching. You moan out her name trying to warn her but it only makes her add another finger and you almost instantly cum from that. You are barely able to hold on. And just when you accept your incoming release and when it feels like it can’t and won’t get better than this, Nayeon moves her head down and begins to suck on your clit.

You cum immediately and scream. Or you scream and cum. You can’t even tell. You thrash around in pleasure, screaming and locking your legs around Nayeon’s head as you feel pleasure fill your whole body. Moments pass and it only seems to get more intense, you can’t even breathe anymore. You feel your hips rise as you hold Nayeon’s head tightly with your hands. You still keep cumming. It keeps feeling more and more intense until you let out another scream and begin to squirt hard.

You can’t even see anymore, everything feels so bright. Your whole body is shaking and Nayeon finally pulls away, her face drenched as she has a proud smile on her face. You keep panting, keeping your eyes closed as you need more time to recover. A minute passes and you finally clear your head a little. You take another heavy breath and redden as you look at Nayeon who’s staring at you with a grin.

“Now look…you made such a mess, I guess I’ll clean it up…”, Nayeon says with a smile as she sucks her finger clean.

You blush…keeping quiet. You weren’t sure there was anything to say. What Nayeon did to you right now was unbelievable. You weren’t sure there were words to describe it.

You gasp again as you feel Nayeon lick your pussy again a few times before coming back next to you, giggling as she wipes her mouth.

“You really went crazy there”, she says suppressing a smile, “I guess you liked my present after all”.

“Shut up”, you say, feeling hot and embarrassed, “this won’t happen every time you forget an important day.”

Nayeon giggles again, “Well I wasn’t planning on forgetting but maybe I should, I don’t know any present that can make you squ-”.

You shut her up by kissing her. She laughs and cuddles you. Teasing you and poking you until you both end up falling asleep in each other’s arms.

[latenightdaydreams]

Heyyyy So um can I request a soft König who takes care of u during ur period :>> like for example he buys u ur fav food and puts a warm blanket on ur stomach then cuddles with u ?? TT BTW I love ur writing so much :))))

Thank you🩷🩷🩷

That Time of the Month

Just some fluff 🩷

Master List

>cw: period, very minor angst because you snap at baby boy but all fluff

🥰

König came home from grocery shopping to see your car still parked in the driveway. You were supposed to go into work today and you aren’t one to miss a day of work. Collecting the groceries from the trunk in a hurry, he walks towards the front door, eager to make sure that you’re okay.

Once inside he sets the bags on the kitchen counter and calls out for you, “Schatzi?”

“Hmmm…”

Your pained moan is the only response he got back. Quickly he climbed the stairs and went into the bedroom you share with him. He sees you in bed, covered with the blankets and you face looking pained.

“Schatz, what’s wrong?” His voice more serious as he rushes to you.

Annoyed, you push him when he rests his body over yours, “Stop!”

König freezes confused, he can’t think of a reason why you’d be mad at it and he beings to spiral.

“Liebling? Y/n? What is wrong? Please.” His voice soft as he walks to his side of the bed and kneels, resting his elbows on the bed to look at you.

“I started my period early and I just feel like shit.”

König simply nodded his head while looking at you. He is aware almost every woman experiences their period, but he still can’t help but to take the pain it gives you personally. He hates to see you like this when he feels there is really nothing he can do.

“Do you need pain killers?”

“I already took some.” You’re short with him.

“Heating pad then?”

You look at him and then nod your head. Quickly König jumps to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom closet. He reaches to the middle shelf and pulls out your heating pad. Rushing back to you he plugs it into the wall.

“What setting?”

“Highest.”

“That won’t be too much?”

You turn and glare at him for asking a stupid question, as if you don’t do this once a week monthly. Seeing your gaze he quickly apologizes and put it to the highest setting. You lift the blanket up and König rest the heating pad across your abdomen before tucking you back in.

“I’m sorry you hurt so much.” He wants to kiss you but he knows when you hurt you need your space until you can relax. “Do you need anything else?”

“No.”

“Okay, Ich liebe dich.” König slowly leaves the bed room to put away the groceries downstairs.

You rest trying to push past the pain, the heating pad starting to help slightly. As you lie there you begin to feel bad for how you were with König. He was only trying to be helpful, but you took out your annoyance with the pain on him.

As you begin to stand to go downstairs and apologize, you hear the front door close. Confused you call out to him, no reply. You stand up and go down stairs and begin to look for him and you don’t see him anywhere. A panic sets in that maybe you were too mean and this was his last straw with you.

Feeling too many emotions, you run back up stairs and get back under you blankets to cry. You cry until you finally fall asleep…

“Y/n?” König gently shakes you awake. “Liebling, wake up, I got you your favorites.” He can’t help but to smile seeing your sleepy squished face, you look precious no matter what you’re doing.

You slowly sit up to see different boxes of take out on the bed, your favorite sweets, and a new plushie. Your eyes look up to meet his and he was looking back at you with so much love.

“Since you’re having such a bad cycle, I decided you deserve to be treated.”

Seeing all of this makes you feel even worse for how you acted earlier. “I’m sorry.”

König tilts his head in confusion, “For what?”

“Being mean.”

“You weren’t, you’re in pain and uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you…”

“I deal with men cursing me out for being shot by the enemy. Schatz, you’re okay. Trust me.” König chuckles. “Now eat, lets put on a show or move.”

He takes his shoes off and begins to pull his pants down and pull his shirt off to relax with you in bed. You sit up and grab the remote, going to Max to watch a movie. You grab the plushie he got you, holding it close to your chest as you hug it.

“He better not be trying to steal all of my snuggles.” König jokes as he gets into bed with you, wrapping his big arms around you.

You chuckle and lean forward to kiss König. His lips meet yours for a tender moment until you slowly pull away.

“Thank you for all of this.”

“Anything for you.”

You smile at him before looking away and begin to reach for food. He watches you closely and can’t help but to feel overwhelmed with love for you. There isn’t anything in the world he wouldn’t do for you.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Kö.”

[mareagirls]

oooo if you want Remus maybe Remus x reader where reader faints - 🥧

i can’t post this as a reply because anon wasn’t on but this is for you my lovely pie anon!! thank u for leaving the loveliest asks. i’m sorry this is over a year late 🥲 i’ll be back to revise this later!

1.4k remus x fem reader 🌟

It’s warm in the garden.

You’re not entirely sure how Remus is managing to read so calmly in the deckchair beside you whilst you feel as though you’re being cooked alive. The two of you are under the parasol, but it’s not doing much to alleviate your discomfort. You’re hot, clammy in all the worst places. Your shirt is sticking to your skin and your eyes are starting to hurt from how bright everything feels. You haven't turned the page in your book for ten minutes now, struggling to make sense of the sentences before you.

After a while of you fidgeting in an attempt to get comfy, Remus turns his head to look at you, long fingers holding the pages of his book open.

“You okay, dove? You’re not too hot are you?”

Remus, you know, quite likes sitting in the sun and being warm. He feels the cold easily and it bothers him, even though he’s not one to complain often. You don’t want him to have to come out of the sun when warm days have been so few and far between recently so you give him a small smile. “I’m okay. Just a little warm.”

He nods, but the small furrow in his brow gives away the beginnings of worry.

“Have you been drinking enough today? You might be dehydrated.”

You think back to the past hours and realise you haven’t been drinking nearly as much as you should be in this kind of heat. Remus almost always has ice tea or water next to him, but you can’t even remember the last time you had something to drink.

“Yeah, I think that might be it. I’ll go and get a drink now. Would you like anything?”

Remus folds over the edge of his page and shuts his book. “I’ll join you, dovey. It’s getting a bit too warm out here for me too.”

You’re not sure if he means it or if he’s just saying it for your sake. Knowing Remus, it could be either. He’s always so astoundingly kind with you. You don’t doubt for a moment that he’d sacrifice his own comfort to spend more time with you.

He’s up before you are, standing over you and outstretching his hand for you to take and pulling you up with ease. You go willingly into his chest, Ignoring how your head spins at the sudden motion and pushing your face into his t-shirt.

Remus’s lips move to rest against your forehead smoothly. He hums against your skin.

“You are quite warm, my love. Let’s get you inside, yeah?”

Overcome with a slow, creeping tiredness, you nod.

Remus doesn’t wait any longer to usher you inside and into the kitchen. A sigh of relief escapes you at the feeling of cool tiles under your feet. Without much grace, you slump into the closest chair as Remus busies himself behind you. He might be getting you some water, but you’re not completely sure. Your body seems to be struggling to adjust to the sudden temperature change, and it’s making you feel nauseous.

You shift in your seat to tell him so, but the action makes your nausea increase and all of a sudden, you’re feeling awfully unmoored. Remus turns at that moment, glass in hand. You make to stand so that you can take it from him, but your legs become shaky underneath you. You think Remus tells you to sit you down again as he places the water on the table, but you don’t have time to reach out to grab hold of something before you’re falling.

Something that sounds like your name falls from Remus’s lips and it sounds warped and wrong. The world blurs around you and then, nothing

You come to in bits and pieces.

The first thing you notice is that you're lying on your back, head pillowed by something soft. The next is that Remus is leaning over you, panicked eyes scanning your own. His hands are on you too, one on your face whilst the other rubs gentle circles into the fat of your hip. There’s something cold and wet on your forehead.

“Hey, hey, dovey,” Remus murmurs, thumb moving to sweep over your cheek. His index and middle finger are tucked behind your ear, smoothing down the soft baby hairs there. “How are you feeling?”

You start to reply, but it comes out low and tangled. When you try again, Remus shushes you gently.

“It’s alright, take your time, okay? We’re not in any rush.”

You nod and it makes stars flash across your vision. Remus’s hand slips up to brush featherlight over your brow, the tips of his fingers pushing under the wet towel he must have placed on your forehead. You take inventory of his features as your senses comes back to you, eyes tracing over scars, loose wavy hair, a strong nose. Once he comes into focus a little more you clear your throat.

“What happened?”

Remus makes a sad cooing sound, frowning ever so slightly as he looks down at you.

“You fainted for a few seconds, sweetheart. Gave me a fright.”

“M’sorry.”

He shakes his head, soft and quiet when he speaks. “It’s alright. You’ve got nothing to apologise for.” His fingers haven’t stopped rubbing light circles into your side. “How do you feel?”

In all honesty, you’re not sure. Your head hurts and you still feel nauseous, but you don’t feel scared or as warm as you did before. Not when Remus’s hands feel so kind against your skin. You lean into his touch and close your eyes.

“I’m alright,” you mumble. “Um…I’m starting to feel better I think.”

It’s a shaky truth at best, and it sounds almost like a question as it falls from your lips. But Remus seems so worried, and you hate that you’re the cause of it. After a few more seconds of silence, you open your eyes and try to sit up, but your head starts to spin again, causing you to wince. Remus frets almost instantly, gentle hands moving to push you back down.

“Please just stay like this for a moment longer, okay?”

You move back down into his lap with no protest. “Sorry,” you murmur, chastised. “Did I hit my head?”

“No, dovey. I caught you in time,” he bites his lip, remorseful. “Your side might hurt though. I grabbed you quite roughly.”

Your side doesn’t hurt. Or at least, you can’t feel it right now. You can’t feel much of anything. Remus’s touch is the only thing keeping you grounded as you start to come back to yourself. “My knight,” you smile up at him in an attempt to dispel his worry. Remus smiles back fondly whilst shaking his head.

“Hardly.”

Remus seems to realise then that you’re still sprawled out on the hard kitchen floor. He lifts your head off his lap and places one arm under your shoulders whilst the other tucks under your knees.

His murmurs are forlorn as he lifts you up and puts you down on the settee. “Let’s get you comfortable. Oh, my poor girl. I can’t believe I let you lie on the floor like that. It can’t have been very nice, hm?”

He flips the towel over on your forehead so that the cooler side is against your skin before moving away to get the glass of water he poured you earlier, striking you once again with his tenderness. You’re lucky. Incredibly so, to have found a boy so keen on being there for you and loving on you. You tell him as much and his smile widens, a light blush dusting his cheekbones as he crouches back down by the sofa and hands you the glass.

“Do you think you’re feeling any better now?”

“Yes. Thank you for looking after me.” You look up at him through lidded eyes as you drink. Once you’ve drained it, you hand him the glass and flop back onto your back.

“Can I have a kiss, Rem?”

“Always,” Remus murmurs, “you don’t have to ask, honey.”

His lips press against different spots on your face, starting at your temple, moving down to the corner of your eye, and further still to your nose. Something like a whine escapes you, and you feel Remus smiling against your skin. Finally, his lips are on yours, slow and gentle like he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

You spend the rest of the afternoon with Remus doting on you.

There are definitely worst ways to pass the time.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 3

Click here to read the first part!

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, cruel Soldier Boy, reader gets hurt, mention of violence, betrayal, Soldier Boy being a dick, reader is a supe, Crimson Countess is a bitch

Word Count: 2194

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

Ben’s lips parted to say something when you told him that he would never hear you saying those three words again, but he clenched his jaw, and his eyes sharpened with fury.

“Don’t even bother, because those words already mean nothing to me.”

You caught him looking at your lips for a second, but he let go of your chin immediately and pulled himself together like he would kiss you if he waited for another second. His unreadable face was filling your heart with hope since you knew he would be far more different if he really didn’t like you at all as he told.

You walked over to him and gently touched his rough hand, asking, “Then why does it make you mad when I tell you I would leave Payback? If you don't really care at all, why do you want me here with your side so much that you threat me with hurting Noir? Ben, please be honest with yourself, at least. I know you won't be honest with me.”

You looked at him with desperation, pleading him with your eyes and touched his hand like you could never get that chance again. You didn’t understand what exactly caused his soft side to slip in your hands so suddenly, so sharp. What had happened to you exactly? You knew it wasn’t about Crimson or someone else, but you didn’t know the cause behind why you failed to solve the true reason behind all this pain.

You withdrew your hands just before he pushed them away. When you posed those questions, he seemed so confused and lost that you nearly thought he would finally crack and put a stop to the cruelty between you going on. Since you were aware that he wasn't good at expressing his true feelings from the very beginning, you were willing to push him a little. You would fight for it if you had to be the one to help him overcome his inner demons and open himself.

“I won't be giving a fuck seeing you fucking go away if I find a stronger supe than you,” he simply said.

You answered, “Neither the team nor you need a strong one,” knowing what he was talking about was just another lie. “Ben, you never care who is powerful or not as you know you are strongest. Your ego is too big to care about what other people are capable of.”

“What on earth should I tell you to get off my ass and stop bothering the Countess and me, huh, Y/N?” He inquired, showing no interest in what you had to say. It didn't even seem like he was paying attention to what you were saying. “I'm warning you; don't talk to me about love or other bullshit again.”

He retreated a step, sat on the couch, and sniffed the cocaine on the table before his eyes darkened. When your lips parted to respond, he lifted his hand menacingly, to prevent you from say another thing to make him angrier.

He yelled, “Shut the fuck up,” and started sniffing coke before you did, startling you with his unexpected outburst. “Do you think you know me? Are you fucking naïve?”

You also raised your voice, but it was rather shaky, saying, “I do know you.” You eventually lost patience with his attitude because of how much his persistence was getting on your nerves.

“You’re a fucking naïve then,” he chuckled, but his tone was rather angry than amusing. “Get the fuck out of here and leave me alone.”

You turned away, your eyes watering, and opened the door without saying a word to Ben, fearing that he would become enraged since he was too busy getting high like a real jerk. You heard Countess's voice in the distance. She gave you a tiny smirk to irritate you, as she usually does, but you left the trailer without looking at her and without creating any drama.

After a few weeks, you gave up attempting to get in touch with Ben because you could tell he was preoccupied with all the dumb advertisements and other bullshit. You also stopped participating in anything Payback-related, even though you were still required to perform these things along with the rest of the team. You informed Earving that you were completely well and needed some time for yourself, despite the fact that he had visited your home numerous times to check on you.

But it was a lie. You were either ill or simply lovesick. You had a difficult time falling asleep since you could recall every last detail of Ben and Crimson's interactions. They appeared in every movie, television show, and advertisement. It didn't matter if you simply vanished; you couldn't run away from your own sentiments that were killing you or their reality.

Earving told you that Ben was becoming crueler and harsher to him and the rest of the crew every day, but you couldn't really care because you were most likely going through the worst.

After a month, you were compelled to flee your home due to a terrorist attack, and all of the members required you on the battlefield. Ben was busy commanding the soldiers haphazardly, using heavy and hazardous weapons like toys, and showing off his whole range of abilities to them with an arrogant smile on his face.

He was taken aback to see you because you were the last person to enter the territory. Ben walked up to you with a sneaky smile on his face after he dropped the rifle on one of the twins from his shoulder, but you turned your back on him and continued talking to some soldiers to give him courage because you didn't want to hear what Ben was about to say to distress and upset you any more.

You were desperately missing Ben and were helpless for any kind of interaction or words to rekindle your already fading hope, but you were also proud. You were aware of everything that happened between you, and excepted the turth that the wonderful memories between him and you had long faded. More than anyone you didn't get to know, he was more of a stranger than any stranger. You were certain there was nothing left in you for him to break because he had broken your heart so many times. Struggling to change the past and pushing yourself too hard will only exacerbate your situation. You knew the pain wouldn’t fully disappear soon, but it would ease by time.

He didn't move again once you turned your back to him, indicating that you were right to let it go.

After Ben tormented him more severely than ever on your third day on the battlefield, Noir's patience ran out, and he kept saying Ben that he didn't deserve to be a leader and that he was simply a bully on cocaine. Despite your attempts to dissuade Earving from approaching Ben too closely and to push him back before things got physical, he was adamant about ending Ben's leadership.

“You don’t deserve to be the the leader of Payback. All you do is getting high and bullying all of us. All people here looking at us with hatred, not respect and the reasson behind this all is that we don’t have a respectful leader,” Earving said raising his voice.

Knowing that Ben was pretty nerveous espcially nowadays and fearing he was already ready to hurt anyone in the squad, you pushed Noir by his chest back trying to calm him down. He was right about everything, but it wasn’t the way to solve this mess Ben caused. Besides, no one would stand a chance against Soldier Boy. After all, he was indeed the strongest supe.

“Noir, please calm down,” you whispered him as if no one would hear you. “Don’t do this.”

Your body clenched with terror, knowing that he would be severely wounded by Ben, who was already looking for a small excuse to beat him up. Earving was digging his own grave for sure.

“What’s wrong with you?” Earving suddenly snapped, pushing your hands from him. “Why do you even support him?”

“Violence with get you nowhere,” you said sharply, implying he must stop or he’ll be the one to get hurt.

“And what the fuck will you do about this, huh?” Ben asked with an evil smirk on his face. “You just fucking disrespected me, you fucking weak fuckface. All you do is whining like a newborn baby yet you crave for respect and all shit.”

When you saw Ben make a move to face Earving, you stopped between them to prevent what was to come. Some soldiers were watching you all with curiosity, and some with fear.

“Ben,” you said with a serious tone. “Let’s not make a scene and let others talk behind you. How can they even respect you if you lay a hand on one of us? This won’t be good for your reputation; you know this.”

Instead of taking a step back and pressing his anger down, your effort to save Noir made him see red.

“Will you now fucking defend him against me?” Ben glared at your hands, which were tightly gripping his suit, and said, “Step fucking aside or you'll get hurt first.”

As you take a step back, you realize how you came so close to Ben without recognizing it, despite your repeated assurances to yourself to keep away from him. He had done many things to you lately, but it was the first time he threatened you with such severity.

Just as you are about to react, you hear Crimson approaching Ben.

Placing a touch on Earving's arm, you showed your understanding and concern for him when you noticed him fisting his fists and standing motionless. It was Ben's harsh attitude toward nothing that he got in return for all the respect he deserved, which was all he asked for. Although Earving had been performing rather well up until this point, everyone has their limitations.

“You know, you shouldn't let others treat Soldier Boy disrespectfully,” Crimson said as she gave you one of her venomous glances. “When Black Noir tries to seize control of the team and instigate a revolt, how can people still acknowledge Soldier Boy as the team's strongest supe and leader? How are you even going to support it, Y/N?”

She scowled and remained by Ben's side, uttering more venomous things to incite Ben's hatred of you. Simply because you were aware of Ben's vulnerability to manipulation over his authority, you took a deep breath and declared, “I'm not supporting any of this. Who the hell are you to read Noir's intentions that way?”

Ben raised his finger right up to your face, his eyes were darkened with disappointment. “So, that’s it. You fucking betrayed me for that cocksucker.”

Your eyes burned with fury as the corner of the Countess’ lips curled with satisfaction.

“Are you really talking about betrayal now?” You raised your voice as your hands were in fist now.

Earving felt your hazardous tension with Soldier Boy, and your fury subsided his own anger. You pushed his hands away from you, even though he touched your shoulder to convey his support for you in a gentle way.

You could see how effortlessly the Countess was able to influence Ben; your eyes were burning with pain. You had come to terms with the idea that he couldn't see his actual emotions through them, but it appeared he couldn't see yours either.

He'd pretended to be concerned about you, deceived you, threatened you, and now accused you of betraying him. But the truth was, he was the one who did them. You didn’t know if he was blind or just a coward who couldn’t even face himself.

“You know what?” Ben angrily remarked, “Since you wanted to go away from the team so much, you can fucking leave now. You are free to fucking go.”

With a heavy heart, you murmured, “Fine. Neither do I want to be a part of this.”

Next Chapter

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A/N: I had planned Losing You to be a one-shot story, but it seems it will take a little more chapters to make a final. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated!

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. <3

[chewnotchoke]

tropes i'd give to boynextdoor + their theme songs

it's my first time writing here on tumblr so i hope u like it! reading experience would be better if ypu try to listen to the songs! enjoy <3

sungho - strangers to friends to lovers

- song: get you by daniel caesar

𓍯 it all started from the cliché 'i was dozing off and was too sleepy after school i slept on his shoulder without my knowledge.' he smiled to himself once you got off of the bus because he thinks you were too cute.

𓍯 you started running to each other often ever since you take short walks by the park every afternoon, and sungho walks his dog there as well. (he saw you once walking and he started doing the same so he could see you everyday)

𓍯 "can i pet your dog? what's his name?" you slouched to pet the corgi you thought was cute. "sungho." "pardon?" you chuckled. "ah-i mean sochi."

𓍯 you started being friends with him when you offered to walk his dog one day. luckily, sungho lives across the street in the same neighborhood.

𓍯 walks with his pet turned into walks with sungho himself where you would find yourselves eating at a restaurant for dinner. sungho would offer to walk you back home just so he could spend more time with you even though your house is just five minutes away from his.

𓍯 sungho has always liked you from the beginning. you liked him when you two were walking late at night and he was yapping nonstop about his hobbies, favorites, and of course he would also ask about your interests. you realized he's so nice to also talk about you and he wasn't that narcissistic guy who just talks about himself. "what about you, do you like this too? i didn't think you'd like that...oh! i felt like you were into these kind of things!"

𓍯 you never found out you two have met before at the bus until you asked sungho his first impression of you.

𓍯 "ms. y/n..have you ever dated before?" he dropped a random question on a normal day where you'd walk with him and sochi. "uh..i haven't...?" it was kind of embarrassing for you that you've never dated before. "then would you be fine with dating a guy like me?" he stops walking and faced at your direction as the corner of his lips form a smile.

riwoo - second chance romance

- song: everything by the black skirts

𓍯 this hurts because you're in the same circle of friends with him. at first, youre the type of exes who would walk past each other without a word. riwoo's heart would ache everytime

𓍯 couldn't and would not entertain other girls because he's waiting for you to come back

𓍯 he would message your close friends in the circle to ask how you're doing. one time, he found out you were sick and your friends were all busy and your classmates didn't know where you lived so he rushed to your apartment with medicine and porridge and ended up taking care of you. despite knowing your door passcode, he knocked on the door to give respect without actually barging himself in until you let him inside.

𓍯 "are you okay?" he hugs you out of worry. "riwoo, you can't just hug me like this." he snaps out of it and realized what he's done which might have put you in an uncomfortable situation. "i'm sorry." he apologizes. "no, it's okay. i'm worried you might catch it too. thank you for taking care of me."

𓍯 he's very caring and thoughtful even as exes. when he notices you're down, he would anonymously leave your favorite food on your desk because no one else knows you best aside from him. he knows you would not eat it if you knew so he tries his best to keep it a secret from your friends.

𓍯 cried on your shoulders when he was at his peak of vulnerability because he misses you so much and he said he could not handle walking past each other anymore and acting like nothing happened between you two. "can we try again?" he looked straight into yours with his eyes pooled with tears. "only if we both promise we'll do better this time." and from that day onwards, your relationship with riwoo was better than before.

jaehyun - 'i wont give up until you fall for me'

- song: adore you by harry styles

𓍯 this man is a down bad loser in love for you. when i tell you there's no other woman in the world for him, trust me.

𓍯 he likes you a lot but not in an overwhelming way. he just wants to prove he can take care of you well.

𓍯 jaehyun is very open when it comes to expressing his love for you. social anxiety is scared of him because he's always verbal about his feelings even when surrounded with a lot of people. "can you slow down, pretty?" you've been trying to walk in a fast pace because he's been calling you pretty. you weren't trying to run away because you hate it, you just don't want him to see your red face because you honestly love it when he compliments you. "there's so many people can you please stop calling me that?" he quickly catches up after you. "then you should stop being so pretty and cute in front of me." he sniffs like it was so easy for him to say that. the people around you looked in your direction and smiled at jaehyun's remark.

𓍯 would intensely stare at you every chance he gets because he loves admiring all your features. "has anybody told you you have such pretty eyes?" his comment would leave you all flustered. "when will you stop looking at me?" you rolled your eyes. "hm...until you melt?" he gave you the sweetest wink, teasing you.

𓍯 you started dating when you accidentally confessed he's good looking and he makes your heart race. "i bet there aren't any other guys in the world like my boyfriend!" your friend starts bragging about her man. "tch! i bet no one's as handsome and sweet as jaehyun!" both jaehyun and your friend were surprised with what you just said that you started running away when jaehyun was asking you to repeat your words. "what? you think i'm handsome? does that mean you like m—oh my god! do you like me too? are you my girlfriend now?!" he jumps around the street with how happy he was to finally win your heart.

taesan - brother's bestfriend (jaehyun as your brother)

- song: sweater weather by the neighborhood

𓍯 your brother brings him home a lot to play games and you'd ask your mom if she has prepared some snacks for them just so you can enter their room to deliver the food and shoot a glance at him

𓍯 you know a lot of girls like him and you're glad he's best friends with jaehyun because you get to see him hang around your house.

𓍯 although he's not the type to strike a conversation first, he actually looks at you when your brother talks to you and you would accidentally meet eyes with him where you would immediately look away

𓍯 he unconsciously grew this habit of watching out and taking care of you after all the times he has seen your relationship with your brother. one time jaehyun left the two of you at the park after forgetting something at home. taesan would grab the end of your shirt to pull you closer after a bicycle just passed by. "be careful, jaehyun might scold me." no. it wasn't because of jaehyun. it's because he cares for you.

𓍯 he tried to keep his little crush on you a secret because he's scared jaehyun might not like him for you.

𓍯 "hey! you're supposed to wash the dishes today! dont even dare to pass that job to me again and run away later!" you threw a pillow to him before walking away. you glimpsed at taesan who was sitting beside him before you run upstairs. jaehyun chuckles, "ah that kid...isn't she cute?" jaehyun glued his eyes on the tv while pressing the keys of his game console. "yeah, she is." taesan didnt know it would come out of his mouth. jaehyun slowly turned his head to the flustered taesan. "what did you say..?"

𓍯 your first kiss with him happened when you were reaching your brother's book in the shelf. when you turned around, taesan was towering you while he reaches the book for you. your faces were too close he ended up kissing you with consent and that's how you started dating.

leehan - slowburn/first love

- song: spring snow by 10cm

𓍯 he's just so first love coded!

𓍯 the opposite of jaehyun. he tries not to make it obvious that he has fallen for you.

𓍯 the type to look at you when you're not looking. he knows you were looking at him from afar at the cafeteria and when your friend talks to you, he'd grab the chance to look at you the same way and he would find himself smiling on his own.

𓍯 would tilt the umbrella towards your side while his shoulders are already wet just so you wouldn't get rained on.

𓍯 loves admiring you from afar because he gets to look at you without feeling embarrassed.

𓍯 during a class retreat, you got asked by your classmates what's your ideal type. leehan was too dense to realize you were talking about him. "someone with sparkly eyes...and fluffy hair? someone who looks like they'd make a good partner?" you answered. 'hm? is there some guy like that in our school?' he thought to himself.

𓍯 king of acts of service. not good with words but he's insanely good in expressing his feelings through actions.

𓍯 it took wayyy too long before the two of you confessed to each other. it was so obvious to all of your friends that you like each other but you and leehan are the only ones who don't know about it. maybe because you're refusing to believe he would like someone like you.

𓍯 "how could you fall for someone like me? i don't think i'm as good as other girls and you're just...way too out of my league." your eyes were glued to the ground, in a disbelief that leehan likes you. "what do you mean 'someone like you?' you're everything i could ever ask for..." he brushes your hair with his fingers before pulling you into a hug.

woonhak - friends to lovers

- song: this is what falling in love feels like by jvke

𓍯 he's very extroverted, but when it comes to expressing his feelings, he tries to be nonchalant about it. (he doesn't want to be teased by his friends).

𓍯 would get this and that for you because he remembers you mentioning how much you liked it. "what's this?" you asked wonhak who placed a cinnamon bun on your table. "just saw it when i was passing by." he answered without looking at you.

𓍯 would use "y/n, wanna try the newly opened restaurant down the street?" as an excuse to go out on a date with you because he infact have been to that restaurant already.

𓍯 you knew you were starting to fall for him because his smiles started to hit different than normal days. "oh, woonhak? i dont remember you being this cute?" woonhak shyly rubs his nape, at a disbelief that you found him cute.

𓍯 you fell asleep on their couch while hanging around his house and he pulls the blanket over your body so you won't get cold. he started admiring you in your sleep and thinks you have such long eyelashes. he'd flinch when you move and pretended he was doing nothing.

𓍯 "hey! woonhak! look at this!" you were all giggly while playing around the water fountain and he was standing, watching you have fun before deciding to get himself wet and play with you around the fountain as well.

𓍯 he offered to dry your hair with a towel. he'd be so playful with it and mess with your hair for fun. "hey! stop it!" he would laugh and then pat your head with so much affection.

𓍯 you love teasing him that he likes you because he's so cute when he gets flustered like his secret has been revealed to the world, but you didn't expect it to backfire immediately. "what would you do if i do like you?" he says.

reblogs are very much appreciated ><

[vhstown]

ain't no love; pt. 4

"ain't no love 'cause you ain't around"

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SERIES SUMMARY: Miles G Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 3 / PART 4 / PART 5 ->

chapter summary: [DUAL POV] This was probably not how sophomore year was supposed to go.

content/warnings: mentions of death and loss, mentions of vaping (😭) and depictions of violence

word count: 4.0k

a/n: hi ive had. a very interesting year of high school myself my bad for the wait 😭 thank u all 4 sticking around for... a YEAR??? and thank u @/qiuweyballs for the proofread as always my guy and there will probably be a part 5 and an epilogue after this part ermmm yea 4 parts is not it guys

"Jesus Christ…"

By the look on your face, you were probably thinking the same thing.

"Miles…" Your voice was a whisper, eyes still fixed at the gym doors. “What the hell is going on?"

His arms fell to his sides in response. All the same questions you were going to ask were circulating through his head already, but he didn't have a single answer in response. His chest was beginning to hurt as he held his breath, thinking of what to say — what to do.

"Mijo, someone's calling you. Is this your friend?”

"Mami, uh, yeah, from school."

"¿Se llamas 'pana'? ¿Es latino? (You call them 'buddy'? Are they latino?) Wait—! Why did you hang up?"

"I'll call 'em back later, 's not that serious right now."

"Oy, ¡no seas maleducado! (don't be rude!) I'm sure your friend wants to talk to you."

"Right, yeah. Totally. Right when we're about to see dad."

"You have to make time for people, Miles. I know you're busy with school, but you can't expect anything from others if you don't give."

"Lo sé, mamí." (I know, mom.)

"If only you showed it! You might smart in your academics, but in real li—"

"Alright, alright! I'll call back later…!"

“I'll tell you later,” is what came out of his mouth, his eyes at his hands, which disappeared into his pockets. Some friend he was.

“I’m not goin’ to Visions to make friends, Uncle Aaron.”

“Nobody's putting it against you if you do.”

“Nobody would have to.”

Miles noticed your expression again, eyebrows furrowed at his answer. It lacked any semblance of the person he’d come to know. That grit, that quick-thinking look in your eyes, the one he saw when you faced Rafael, when you pulled the alarms at Oscorp… that look that told him that even if something were to happen to you, you’d somehow make it out in one piece — totally missing.

Some god damn vigilante, pulling you into his sh*t.

"I think you should head back."

The words felt useless, tumbling out of his mouth and landing by his feet. Some part of him hoped you'd run before he could see the mistrust in your eyes.

"What are you talking about?” you respond, finally meeting his eyes.

What were you talking about?

"I've seen him before, Miles. That guy… Wellston… You don't get it, he—"

"You two!"

Miles winced, realising he’d bit his tongue. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the sudden voice, or the fact that he almost told you “I know.” It didn't really matter, he decided. Weber didn't look very pleased.

"Are we loitering here, or are we actually going to go and volunteer?" Neither of you could manage an apology as you made a start for the gym.

With the clack of Ms. Weber’s heels behind you two, Miles reached into his pocket, he pulled his phone out.

Home late today, got that job fair Delivered Tqm mami Delivered

Today was going to be a long day.

"What are you mumbling to yourself about?" you whispered, the sharp of your elbow brushing his arm.

"Nothing," he mutters, pressing his lips shut. Talking to himself like a crazy person definitely wasn't helping his case here.

"What do we do?”

"We?" It was his turn to give you an incredulous look.

"We, us, me and you. Does it matter? That thing is at a high school job fair, Miles—"

“If you don't find a way to leave…” he murmured through his teeth, turning and catching Weber's gaze for a moment too long. Right. Her. "You know what? Just trust me."

“Trust you to do what?”

“I’m gonna leave. You’re gonna stay right here.“

“What? Why?”

Beep!

With the tap of Weber’s key card by the doors, tacky decorations, dreary fluorescent lights and stands in various stages of being set up came into view. Visions’ state-of-the-art careers fair. Miles shut his eyes for a moment, squeezing the ache out of them.

“ENROL IN OUR STUDENT PROGRAM TODAY!” read a stand above a picture of young people in lab coats, all smiling in strangely the exact same way. Oscorp still had the balls to come, of course. The actual young people at the stand looked much less enthusiastic than their pictured counterparts, their supervisor barking orders.

“Young Leaders: Get into politics!” — “Apprenticeships at Fisk Industries” — “Join the future of tech with BESTMAN TELECOM”.

Nothing like a bit of colourful text to cover up a couple of questionable practices.

“JOIN US” one read, rather simply. The PDNY.

Miles’ eyes lingered on the smooth police blue behind the pictured police officers. It was the same blue that he’d seen in adverts on the subway, peeking out from graffitied billboards, on his dad’s uniform.

He wondered what had happened to his dad’s co-worker. He wondered what the hell a man with the bright yellow visitor’s badge was doing pretending to be Police Constable Daniella Williams at some random school careers fair.

“JOIN US”.

He wondered if his dad had seen the same poster he was looking at right now.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Make yourselves useful!” Right. Weber.

You followed him as he walked into the gym, right past the PDNY stand.

He didn’t know how he was going to break it to you that this was probably going to be the last time you'd see him — at least, at school.

If the Prowler was good at one thing, it was hiding.

Wellston, Williams, Stromm…

As hard as you tried, everything was hopelessly melding together in your head. Amidst the dull murmur of people getting things together, all you could think of was that melting face back at Oscorp, every crevice burned into your memory by the light of the Prowler's blast.

You tried to avoid looking at the woman, as if she'd deform before your eyes as soon as you did. You’d met P.C. Williams before, back when you were a freshman and this fair was actually meant for you. She still had the same cropped hair and thick glasses. Well, this thing did, anyway.

Miles wasn’t looking at you right now. It was good that he wasn’t, you thought. There was a crease between his brows, one he had when he was thinking of what to write in English Lit, or frowning at his phone in the hallways. You had no idea what he was thinking about right now, though.

“You're leaving?” you muttered, despite yourself.

The boy took in a breath, but the sigh you expected didn’t follow.

“I’m gonna leave, and you’re gonna cover for me.”

“To do what? Are you gonna call the cops or something?”

Stupid idea.

“Stupid idea," he replies, shaking his head.

I was gonna say that, damn it.

What if he somehow knew this shapeshifter person? You shook the thought from your head — he’d been just as shocked as you had when he saw Wellston shapeshift.

But he was the one to pull you into that hiding spot in the first place — almost like he’d been anticipating it. He went with you to the extra class too. He went on the subway with you even though he seemed to get more irritated every stop you passed, and he clearly didn’t live that far out.

“Miles,” you started, eyes narrowing at him, even if he wasn’t looking at you. “Are you—”

“Morales!” A flicker of annoyance tinged the boy’s expression as he turned to face the source of the voice.

Emerging through the crowd — buzz cut, shiny earrings, colourful suit —Principal Evans stepped into the space between you two.

“Could I talk with you a minute?” Her lips were pressed into an impossibly thin line.

“…Sure.” Miles turned away, but not before giving you an awkward look. For a second, it convinced you that you two were back in AP Calc, and Wellston was going on a tangent about something a little too personal again.

“Don’t you got somewhere to be?” The look Principal Evans gave you was more expectant.

You nodded by instinct, walking away before you could say anything at all.

Finding yourself at the back wall of the gymnasium, concealed rather poorly by the tacky banking stand, you turned to see “The Daily Bugle” in fancy serif, the trumpet logo plastered everywhere it would fit. A red-haired woman pinning up some papers glanced back and smiled at you. She was pretty, eye makeup immaculate and lipstick as clean as her smile — a journalist, of course.

“Are you here to help?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah…” you mumbled out, straightening out your shoulders. The least you could do right now was be useful, while hoping Evans wouldn't keep Miles too long.

“Good, because the kid who was supposed to help out here just up and disappeared.” She let out out a laugh, the professional edge in her smile softening. It eased your nerves just a little. “Mind helping me out with these? I’m Mary Jane Watson, by the way — just MJ right now, though. I'm a journalist at the Bugle.”

“Sure, MJ.” You smiled back, a little dubiously, before reaching for some of the papers.

“NOTORIOUS CRIMINAL PROWLER SPOTTED AT OSCO—”

“Nope,” you whispered under your breath, picking out another headline.

“Did you say something?” MJ asked.

“Oh, no, nothing.”

You bit your lip, flicking through the papers. “Where’d the other kid go?”

“I have no idea. He wanted to use the bathroom, but it’s been 20 minutes. Pretty sure his name was Rafael.”

“Rafa—” The paper flopped, half-open in your hands. “Oh…”

“Was that a bad idea? Is he notorious at your school or something?” she jokes. You manage a sort-of grin.

“Kinda? I didn’t think he’d be at the careers fair.” Rafael of all people… “Are you the only one here?”

“Pretty much. It was my idea to come, everyone’s busy at the Bugle, right?”

“Probably, yeah.”

Miles was still talking to Evans. Whatever he was going to do, you had to cover for it… Did you really? What if you were covering for something crazy? What was crazier than this? Was he just going to ditch you? Why was he talking to Principal Evans all the time anyway?

“Mary— MJ,” you started.

“Yeah?”

“Do you… would you happen to know anything about Oscorp? You know, with the Prowler…”

“Oh, I wish. Oscorp’s been dead silent. Everything’s 'just speculation' for now.”

“Why are they sure it's the Prowler, then? Couldn’t it have been someone else?” Like, the weird shape shifting monster thing?

“He’s been a big problem for Oscorp lately. A security breach doesn’t seem too out of character for him.”

“Security breach?”

“No details on that, unfortunately. Are you interested in journalism, or just curious?”

“Just curious…" you reply, a weird laugh leaving your mouth. "Who knows, though?”

Like you’d ever willingly go into the press — at least, not the Bugle. J. Jonah Jameson and his conspiracies were not at the top of your job prospects.

“That looks good," MJ says, giving you a nod as you straightened out the display of leaflets and little trinkets on the table. “Glad you came by — I don’t think the other kid’s coming back, though.”

“Yeah, probably not…”

Eyes falling on the exit, you saw someone waving as they made their way out — a woman in a police uniform.

P.C. Williams.

Miles was still talking to Evans. He looked frustrated, almost upset, even — definitely not noticing what was going on right now.

“Uh, Mary— I mean, MJ. I’m… just gonna use the bathroom real quick.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Just make sure to come ba—”

Sorry, MJ.

Walking right by Miles’ field of view, and with Principal Evans’ back to you, you mouthed what you hoped would come across as “HE’S LEAVING” as the doors shut behind Williams.

“Where are you going?” A girl with her hair in an erratic half-bun and crossed arms stopped you, standing in front of the door. Great. Maybe you’d have to start hating these seniors more than the freshmen.

“Bathroom,” you mumbled, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice.

“That’s what the last guy said,” remarked a boy much taller than the girl, hair coloured in a way that probably wasn’t allowed at school. He was also crossing his arms. Tweedledee and tweedledum.

“No, you don’t get it, I really gotta go—”

“You can't wait for 10 minutes?” the girl replied, a demeaning furrow in her brows.

“I—” You swallowed, realising you were wasting time. He could be anywhere, or any-one right now.

Click!

“Hey!”

Doors shutting behind you and feet carrying you past the changing rooms, you dashed outside, ushering past the growing congregation of freshmen and hoping you weren’t being followed right now.

Wellston was walking into the main reception.

Walking closer, you could make out just who was leaving the reception: a woman in a police uniform, visitor’s badge in hand.

P.C. Williams. You felt like you were losing it.

Feet stuck to the ground, you could only stare as she approached you.

“Hey, sorry, you’re a student here, right?” She gave you a smile, looking around briefly. “Which way is the job fair? I always lose my way around here.”

“Um…” You blinked a little uselessly. “Over—”

“It’s that way. Big blue and yellow sign. Can't miss it”

You turned to see Miles, thumb pointing towards the gymnasium.

“Thank you!” The woman nodded at him, before walking away.

When she was far enough, Miles turned to you.

“What’d you see?” he said, reaching into his pocket. You tried to recount it.

“I— Wellston just left from the reception. At the exact same time as that police lady— Who are you texting right now?”

Miles was tapping away at his phone incessantly, pausing to look up at you when you stopped talking. When he saw your less-than amused expression, he almost sheepishly looked back down at his phone again.

“Hello? Earth to Morale—”

“Just gimme a sec, damn!”

You could tell he was trying to school the frustration on his face, the way his cheek in from biting the inside of his mouth.

“…That's it,” he suddenly muttered out loud.

“What? That's what?”

“That guy's the…” Miles presses his lips together, stopping himself.

“The what?” You almost wanted to shout at him, but it probably wasn't a good idea considering that

“The Chameleon, Jesus, are you—” He let out an exasperated breath, running a hand over his face. You were glad he didn’t finish that sentence. “He’s involved with the Sinister Six.”

"Isn't the Prowler part of the Sinister Six too? It's looking a lot more than six people lately, Miles."

"The Prowler's not a part of the Sinister Six."

"What's the difference? I know you're into comics and stuff, but these aren't supervillains, they're real criminals!"

“Rude.”

"Like you haven't been!"

You let out a groan as he continues with his phone, looking behind you two occasionally.

“Who the hell is the Chameleon anyway?”

“Shapeshifter. In prison eight years ago. In schools now, for some damn reason.”

“We were eight eight years ago, why do you even know that?”

"Do you not watch the news?"

"Rude."

It's his turn to groan, shaking his head.

"Who are you texting?"

"My uncle." You were half-expecting him to say his mom.

“What's your uncle gonna do? Is he a police officer too?”

His jaw shifts at that, before you both notice the forboding presence in the distance.

Principal Evans.

“Look, my mom’s real sick and I had to leave, got it?”

As soon as the words left, he did too, sprinting straight for the reception.

“Oh my God…” you muttered under your breath, hand pressed against your forehead, waiting for your next impending doom.

“You.” Defeatedly, you turned to the woman, her arms crossed. She had Rafael standing next to her, who looked even more defeated. “Just where did you run off to?”

“The bathroom—”

“Do not lie to me.” You tried not to wince at her tone. “There are bathrooms in the gymnasium.”

“I thought they were locked, so I… went to my dorm’s bathroom.” The woman furrowed her brows at you, as if trying to get something more out of you. The breath was still in your throat, hoping your terrible lie would hold up.

“Your dorm's bathroom… And where’s Morales?”

You felt Rafael’s eyes on you for a moment.

“His, uh…” You tried to recall what garbage excuse he’d just told amongst the muddle in your head. “His mom’s sick or something, I dunno, he had to go home…”

“Right. I’ll be makin’ sure to call her.”

Sorry, Miles. Sorry, MJ. Sorry, Principal Evans. Better start practising your apologies now.

It was his problem. Kind of definitely yours too.

“The fair’s about to start, I need y’all back in there this instant. And Ortiz, you’re goin’ straight to my office.”

Despite the nagging urge to poke fun at Rafael, the two of you walked back in silence. You had a rough idea of what he was off doing, considering the overwhelming smell of artificial strawberry coming from him. Maybe Evans would finally expel him. Vaping wasn't the most noble way to go, though.

Regardless, it was his problem. You wondered why it felt like it was yours too. Maybe it was because you were both in trouble, or because you somehow got involved in everyone's problems regardless. To think you'd finally get used to this school in sophomore year.

“Are you interested in journalism, or just curious?

"Just curious. Who knows, though?"

Maybe MJ could help — after a little apology, probably.

"We can't go after him right now."

"Why not?" MIles murmurs into his phone as he fumbles with the hoodie and mask he'd hastily thrown on. The receptionist hadn't been at the desk, but he did not want his face in someone's line of sight.

"That might not even be him, Miles."

"I thought his victims were supposed to be dead."

"One's definitely alive."

"Yeah, and she's at the fair. Wellston didn't even show up to class."

"Your ma's gonna be happy." God damn it. He could already hear her lecture. Mijo, sneaking out of school?!

"Shut up," he mutters, to nobody in particular.

"Don't talk to me like that, Miles."

"Sorry."

He turns into the main street, spotting Wellston. Looks like he hadn't shape-shifted yet. The streets were flooded with school kids now. Some were piling out of his old middle school, pulling faces and make strange noises at him. Still the same as ever.

"You still following him?"

"Trying."

Moles were made for hiding. This one was steadily speeding his way through the crowd as Miles tried to match his pace. There were just a few more by-streets to pass before the station, meaning he'd have to make his move before he'd lose the chance to.

As a new flood of people came through, Miles found himself just a foot or two away. With a quick jut of his elbow, the man's briefcase-looking bag came tumbling off of his shoulder, kicked around on the pavement by a million people's feet. Miles pummeled the bag with a kick, and it spinned easily into the darkness of the nearby alley, as if it weighed nothing. Wellston looked at him with uncertain eyes, as if he'd derived some shred of what was going on, but started walking for the alleyway anyway.

"I got him, don't even worry about it," he murmurs into his phone, before following him, feet silent against the concrete. He can make out the faint sigh of his uncle as the sound of the city temporarily fades away.

As Wellston reached down to pick up his bag, Miles shoved the man to the wall, his body obscured from view by a dumpster. As he scrambled to face him, Miles' foot pinned him right back where he was, dug right against his stomach.

"Huh, what a—"

"If you scream, you're not coming out of this damn alleyway," he taunts, shoving his phone in his pocket so his uncle couldn't hear how terribly he was deepening his voice right now.

"Okay, okay. What do you want? My wallet? Here—" The man let out an uncomfortable grunt as Miles forced his foot a little harder against him.

"I want to know who you are." Aside from the creepy ass teacher following my friend around.

"Who I…? I—I'm William. William Wellston. I'm twenty-six and work at Brooklyn Vi—" The man's face scrunched up in pain at the sudden tilt of Miles' foot against the bend of his torso.

He could hear the quiet crack of claws, somewhere in the distance. So his uncle had shown up.

"Wrong answer. One more chance."

"Alright, alright! I'm… God, why me…?" If the man took any longer, Miles was sure he was going to put his other foot into the equation. "I'm Garrett. Garrett East. I used to be an accountant at Manhattan Tax Services."

Garrett… who the f*ck now?

"Who's William Wellston, then?"

"I… oh my God, I deserve this, don't I? He's… another guy. I stole his identity. His life."

"How so?"

"You… you're not going to tell anyone, right? I am dead if my boss finds out. And that's not that Evans lady."

"You're dead if you don't cough it up right now."

Miles was expecting the Chameleon to be a little more formidable for an international criminal, but the tiny, indignant little squeak that came out of his mouth was less than.

"Oh my god, okay! I'm… my boss is… he's really good at costumes, and fixed me up to look like this guy — I didn't know he was dead, okay!"

"Costumes…? Don't lie to me."

"I'm serious! I mean, uh, this is sort of a costume, but I look like this every day now."

"You're not a shapeshifter?"

"I'm not a… what?" The man's exasperated expression turned to one that of what appeared to be… genuine confusion. It almost felt like Miles had been slapped in the face.

"…What did I tell you, Chameleon? Don't lie to me. Or is he your boss?"

"Chameleon? What… No, my boss is… My boss is a guy called Dmitri. Couldn't tell you his last name, it's Russian I think."

"Dmitri Smerdyakov." Damn name ain't even that hard. "So… the Chameleon."

"I don't know who the Chameleon is—"

"Where were you at 3:00pm today?" Wellston was missing from class, that's for sure.

"I… My boss told me to leave and… hide out. I had a class at the time, but he sounded angry so I didn't want to argue. I'm… kind of fired now."

"For one class?"

"He's made me do that a lot of times. Told me to give him my keycard and… look I don't know, okay! This Dmitri guy, you wouldn't want to know him. And my life is basically over, for the second time."

The man looked at Miles as if he was going to break down crying, and the boy felt a lot more awkward as he tried to piece things together before that happened.

"Where's your boss?"

"I don't… please. I don't know. I don't know who you are either!"

Before Miles could even let out a breath, a purple-green flurry whizzed by his peripheral, followed by a thump of feet. One clink of the metal claws got the man spluttering.

"Okay, okay! He's the Chameleon, the shapeshifter! He's been taking my place, and, uh, he's trying to take over this kid's life too! He's, Jesus, please don't hurt me. You're the Prowler aren't you…? The two of… oh god."

Miles could care less about being identified right now, or the fact that it took his uncle about 2 seconds to get more information out of this bastard that had been lying to him for 2 minutes straight. This kid. He felt his chest tighten.

"This kid?" he mumbled, knowing his uncle wouldn't respond. He had to keep up the strong and silent schtick, as he put it. Now was not the time to marvel at the corniness of that, though. "Who?"

Miles thought he might be sick when he heard what came out of the miserable man's mouth.

It was your name.

my lovely jubly taglist: @noetophat @sakura-onesan @bakugouswaif @phoenixinthefiles @daydreaming-en-pointe @sp1derw1re @kvvrc @spookyscaryskeletrans @proudgojofucker @spam-1 @playboifenty @hobiebrownismygod @kissingkzuha @nyumeii @uwukiity @itzmeme @shittingonyourgrave @theyluvbix @kezibear (i hope that's everyone? so sorry if i missed you 💔)

thank you for reading, reblogs appreciated! find my atsv masterlist here!

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 5: Sunburn, Heatstroke

Four and Hyrule!!! Who do not deserve a bit of the abuse I put them through 😔 Also something about the nature of heatstroke fics... they always get really long when I write them. Dunno why.

Warnings: things in the title, hallucination, rope burn, very brief vomiting, arguably a bit of torture.

Ao3 link

——————————————————————————————————

The desert was a fascinating environment, really, but Four had a feeling he would appreciate it a whole lot more if he could do so from a distance.

He couldn’t think of a single good experience he’d had in a desert, and it looked like his streak was holding. Seeing as Four was currently tired to a pole on top of a dune, Hyrule beside him, nothing to look at except endless sand and sun.

“Before you ask, no, I’m out of magic,” Hyrule said wearily, and Four sighed, setting his head back against the pole. He closed his eyes against the piercing sunlight, and tried to ignore the sweat already trickling down his brow, missing his headband. He could already feel the first signs of sunburn on his chest.

“Couldn’t they have given us some water before we started?” he asked, opening his eyes and staring idly at the horizon. Hyrule snorted.

“That wouldn’t be ‘fair’.”

“Oh like tying us to a pole without any sort of assistance is fair,” Four grumbled. “Not to mention taking half our clothes and all our belongings, and refusing to give them back unless we pass their “trial”. Just because we’re men. I’ve never met any Gerudo this territorial before.”

“I’ve never even met any Gerudo,” Hyrule said with a shrug against Four’s shoulders. “Well... I guess I have now. From what Wild said I thought they’d be nicer.”

“Well this obviously isn’t his time,” Four sighed. “They even took the dagger from my boot. Couldn’t they have given us something useful?”

“To be fair, we did agree to this,” Hyrule pointed out, and Four sighed again.

“Yeah. Because the only other option was them skewering us. I’m well aware.”

Four had never heard of a ‘trial of the sands’ before today, but the longer it went on, the less he liked it. The Gerudo he and Hyrule had stumbled on by complete portal-related accident were not friendly in any way shape or form. They’d quickly been surrounded, labeled trespassers, and been given the option of either attempting to survive for two days tied up in the desert, or be immediately killed for their crimes.

Four and Hyrule had chosen the desert.

It seemed to mostly be a choice between a quick or slow death, since as the Gerudo had tied them up and dragged them away, the leader mentioned that only one person before them had ever survived the trial. But Four still clung onto hope. If they survived, the Gerudo would let them go scot-free— the Gerudo wouldn’t oppose the will of the desert.

They just had to survive sitting out here for another 47 hours or so.

Easy.

Another bead of sweat trailed down Four’s face, and he sighed. He certainly wouldn’t complain if the others showed up before their time was up, though.

“Well... it could be worse,” Hyrule said after a bit, and Four raised an eyebrow. Then he remembered Hyrule couldn’t see it.

“...Oh yeah?”

“We’re not dead,” Hyrule said with a grin in his voice, and Four chuckled a bit weakly.

“Not yet, anyway.”

Silence fell over them, broken only by the scorching wind that whistled past. Four worked a little at their bonds, and he felt Hyrule doing the same, but the rope was as tight as ever. Four’s wrists were already raw, and he thought he might be starting to lose the feeling in his fingers.

And it was getting awfully hot.

A bead of sweat dripped off his nose, and Four blinked, his eyes beginning to hurt from squinting. The skin on his shoulders was pink from the sun, and it stung now where the ropes scraped against it. If nothing else, Four was going to come out of this with a wicked sunburn.

And hopefully nothing else.

“Smithy?” Hyrule asked after a while, sounding more weary than before. “You think the others will find us?”

“I hope so,” Four replied quietly.

He couldn’t think of anything more reassuring to say beyond that, but he shifted his head so it was resting more against Hyrule’s back. Hyrule leaned on him in turn, and despite the added warmth, Four appreciated the contact.

At least they weren’t alone. Four didn’t think he could stand that.

The scorching wind kept blowing past, too hot to cool either of them, the breezes kicking up sand that stuck to their sweaty skin. Four’s shoulders and arms began to sting, the ache of sunburn beginning to take hold. Sweat still dripped off his face, stinging his eyes on occasion.

The horizon stayed as blue as ever, nothing but sand and sky in sight.

Four wasn’t sure when, but eventually he and Hyrule both stopped working at the ropes, moving too painful with the burns only growing redder on their skin. They talked a little, but speaking felt like it expended more and more energy as time went on, and their conversation faded.

Four couldn’t turn his head very easily to look, but his whole chest felt raw now, the handful of bruises he’d received from the Gerudo throbbing, the ropes making his skin ache.

The sun felt like one of Wild’s guardians lasers on his skin, hot and painful. Four tried to keep his eyes on the horizon, looking for the others, but the line began to blur, wavering and melting in the sun.

He realized belatedly it had been a while since Hyrule had said anything, and blinked, struggling to focus.

“Hyrule? You still... ‘wake back there?” Four rasped, and he heard a croaky hum in response.

“Yeah. Gettin’... pretty warm.”

“Mm...”

Four blinked slowly, headache pulsing behind his eyes, and tried to fix his gaze on the horizon again. It had been sometime midmorning when they’d been put out here, was it noon now? Afternoon? It didn’t seem like the pole’s shadow had moved at all.

His whole torso hurt. The ropes rubbed against his burning skin with even the smallest movement, and Four hissed through his teeth when Hyrule shifted around.

“S’rry...” Hyrule slurred, and Four blinked, realizing Hyrule’s voice was a lot weaker then it had been. He wondered if his drained magic was making him feel worse.

“Stay awake ‘rule,” Four said, shakily tapping his head against him. “Don’t... you gotta stay awake.”

“I am, I... I am. I will.”

Hyrule’s skin felt clammy where it rested against Four’s, and Four scanned the horizon with a mounting desperation, barely able to focus.

How were they going to last two days out here?

Four’s stomach began to churn, his shoulders faintly trembling. His skin felt scraped raw, limbs aching, and for some reason air felt like it was harder to get in, and his breathing sped up. His heart pounded in his ears, the beat too fast, faster than it should be, and it throbbed in time with his headache.

Four swallowed back bile, and realized he’d stopped sweating.

That was bad. He didn’t remember why, but that was bad.

You’d think not sweating anymore would be good... he thought blearily, eyes rolling up to look at the sky. He’d given up on the horizon. The sky was better to look at anyway, even if it hurt his eyes. Blue and bright, the color was similar to... to something.

To water, he thought with a groan, throat drier than ever. He was so thirsty. Even a drop or two would be amazing. Especially if it was cold.

Mm. Cold.

Four never thought he would miss the time Blue got trapped in ice, but he found himself longing for it now. The idea of being anything but hot seemed like a distant dream.

Hyrule made an abrupt noise behind him, and Four startled, biting back a cry as the ropes scraped him. It sounded like Hyrule had lost the battle with his own stomach, and Four grimaced, unable to do anything but rest his head back on Hyrule’s shoulder while he weakly retched.

“Okay?” Four whispered when he finished, and Hyrule merely leaned on him a little harder.

Four closed his eyes, and silently begged the others to come soon. He didn’t think they could stand it much longer.

The sun continued its slow trek above them, Four still not convinced it was moving. His skin hurt, and though he couldn’t turn his head to look very well, he thought it might’ve begun to peel a bit.

He didn’t know how much time had gone by when Hyrule suddenly shifted a little.

“Four...” Hyrule croaked, “Four I see... see somethin’.”

“Really?” Four asked, hope stirring him from some of his dizziness. Hm. He might’ve fallen unconscious for a bit. “What?”

“It’s... can’ tell,” Hyrule murmured. “M-maybe... the others...”

Hyrule went quiet, then jerked suddenly, Four gasping as the ropes pulled.

“No!” Hyrule cried, voice cracking. He tried to push himself back, breath heaving, but all it did was send the ropes shifting around Four’s burnt skin, making him cry out.

“Hyrule s-stop!” Four gasped out, but Hyrule kept squirming, movements frantic.

“No no no— it’s gonna—” Hyrule choked out, still thrashing as much as he could. “Four, it’s— it’s r-right here!”

Four bit back another cry, and he tried to listen over the sounds of Hyrule’s frantic struggles, hearing nothing except the wind. No threat that would make Hyrule react so violently would be able to be that quiet.

It’s not real.

“Rule there’s n-nothing there,” Four wheezed, pained tears pricking in his eyes. “You’re seein’ th-things, please, s-stop moving.”

“It’s got... got a sword,” Hyrule gasped, still struggling madly, ropes tearing across Four’s skin. “Four it’s gonna—”

“It’s not! It’s not real!”

“It is!” Hyrule cried, “it’s about to—!”

“‘Rule, you’re hurting me!” Four nearly shrieked.

Something in his voice must have finally gotten through to him, and Hyrule went still, breath hitching. Four’s own breath hitched, his whole chest scraped and burnt, and he felt something wet trickling from under where the ropes were tightest.

Hyrule abruptly slumped, and Four waited in silence.

“N-nothing’s there,” Hyrule said shakily. “I thought th-there was, it... oh Four. ‘M s-sorry...”

“It’s okay,” Four whispered, swallowing thickly. “‘S okay. K-Keep... your eyes closed.”

Four heard his breath shake, but Hyrule didn’t argue, and the silence fell over them once more, thick now with pain.

Four closed his eyes, a dry sting in the corners, and tried to think about anything except the fiery feeling all across his middle.

...

More time passed. Four didn’t know how much.

He could barely remember how they’d gotten here, only reminded of it when he tried to move and the ropes further scraped his arms and wrists. Hyrule wasn’t saying anything anymore, and Four had run out of energy to try and talk to him.

He didn’t know if Hyrule was awake anymore. He only knew he was alive because he could feel his pulse where his head was pressed, too fast, too weak.

Four felt jumbled and weary, and more than once tried to reach for his sword so he could split, biting back a cry as the ropes scraped his bloody and sunburnt skin. They hurt even worse since Hyrule had thrashed around, and Four could barely breathe without pain searing across his chest and arms.

He needed his sword. Needed help. Needed to get out, he needed to help Hyrule get away from here and find the others, but the ropes were strong and Four’s energy had been entirely drained by the sun and pain.

All he could do was sit here and listen to Hyrule’s rapid, weak pulse, and hope they would make it.

Something was making a noise beside Hyrule’s pulse though, something that wasn’t the wind. Four peeled his eyes open, holding back a whimper as the sun hurt his eyes.

There was something in the distance, moving towards them. All Four could make out was a fuzzy blob, lit faintly orange by the setting sun, but that was all.

Four squinted, suspicious of another mirage like Hyrule had seen, but the blob got clearer as it approached, something with arms and legs. The noise got louder too, what sounded like garbled words on the wind, and Four blinked, the figure sorting itself into multiple figures, all... familiar.

“Four!”

Hope caught in his throat, and Four watched as Legend appeared in front of him, face sweaty and horrified. Wolfie ran beside him, sand kicked up by paws and pegasus boots, and Four could only watch in shocked relief as Legend slid to his knees beside him.

“Oh Four,” he breathed, and Four gave him a trembling smile, unable to do much else.

Legend wordlessly pulled a knife from his belt and began sawing, muttering something worriedly under his breath. Four could only watch, and when the pressure from the ropes abruptly disappeared, he lurched forward, unable to hold himself up any more.

Legend grabbed him, carefully avoiding where the ropes had cut into him, and Four gave him a grateful smile, relief making him feel twice as exhausted.

“Wait wait, don’t pass out, drink first,” Legend said a little frantically, and Four peeled his eyes back open, and let Legend hold his canteen to his lips.

Cool water filled his mouth, and Four nearly cried, drinking at it greedily. He whined when Legend pulled it away again, and the veteran gave him a chiding look.

“Hey c’mon, you should know better than to chug it,” Legend said gently, and Four sighed, relief hitting him as he saw Twilight nearby with Hyrule in his arms. “You can have more in a bit.”

Legend shifted him around a little, and Four hissed as his hands ghosted over his abused skin.

“Looks like it’s a good thing we found you when we did,” Twilight said from somewhere nearby, voice thick with worry.

“Yeah,” Four rasped, and despite the pain still cutting through him and the way his vision was darkening at the edges, he still reached out for Hyrule’s hand, threading his fingers through the traveler’s.

Hyrule held back, his grip even weaker than Four’s, but that was all the reassurance he needed.

Four sighed, and finally passed out, Legend’s frantic yelp ringing in his ears.

[coryosbaby]

ethan landry just marking u everywhere he can with hickey,bites, even his cum just because he saw a guy taking to you earlier, i cant get this out of my head

Dom! Ethan Landry x fem! Bimbo! Reader (18+) 🍒

Warning: marking, cumplay, bondage, manhandling, biting, choking, orgasm denial, dark! Ethan (he’s lowkey a sadist), a little bit of blood play

(As usual, if the topics in this fic make you uncomfortable, I will happily rewrite it per request!)

I love the whole concept of marking & dom Ethan has me on my knees. This is so filthy 😨😨 enjoy <3

“I told you not to talk to him!”

Ethan’s voice blares out through your shared apartment, anger lacing his usually soft and angelic voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, E.” You frown, faking innocence.

“That guy at the party earlier.”

“The guy at the party? E, I don’t…” you pretend to think, and then smile, knowing damn well who he was talking about. “Oh! You mean Trevor! Yeah, he’s a friend. Pretty cute, if you ask me. Really nice bone structure…”

Ethan is absolutely fuming. His hands are clenched at his sides, and he looks so pissed.

You can’t help but squeeze your legs together at the sight. You love making him mad, love making him fume over guys that you don’t even give a shit about. What can you say? He’s hot when he’s angry.

And flirting with other guys makes him VERY angry.

His hand goes up to your throat and squeezes it harshly. You gasp, hands going up to his as he backs you against the wall. He growls.

“No guy gets to talk to you except me. No guy gets to touch you but me. Now I suggest you get on your knees and show me what that slutty little mouth can do besides cause trouble.”

And then an hour later, the boy has you exactly where he demands you to be. Your tongue is out and your mouth is agape as he strokes his fat cock in front of you. His pants are completely down to his ankles, t-shirt still on, while he sits on the edge of the bed. You, however, are completely bare, hands tied behind your back with a pair of your own lacey panties, tits covered in Ethan’s cum from his first orgasm. Your knees hurt from how long you’ve been on the floor, but you’re a good girl and don’t complain. His face is flushed as he looks down at you. He takes your head and shoves you down onto him. You gag, still keeping your eyes locked with his, as his cock tries to force its way down your warm wet throat.

“Good girl,” he coos. “Bet you want this cock so bad, don’t you?”

You mumble a “mhm!” around his cock. You give him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster and bat your eyelashes, begging him to cum again, to fill your throat up with his warm seed.

His teeth are clenched as he strokes himself, breathing heavy and ragged. With a cry of your name, he orgasms for a second time. You moan when his cum lands on your tongue, warm and tasting oh so heavenly.

“That’s it...shit! Take that cum, bitch.”

He thrusts his big dick further into your mouth, fucking your raw throat.

When he’s overstimulated, he pulls you off of him and grabs you by your binded wrists. He throws you onto the bed as if you weigh nothing, and you’re surprised at his strength. He climbs on top of your naked body, inhaling the scent of your neck and beginning to leave even more marks than before. You cry out when he bites down particularly hard, enough to draw blood. He licks up the red substance with his tongue. When he lifts himself up, he smiles down at you. A little bit of your blood shines on his pearly white teeth. He uses his thumb to rub your clit harshly and you mewl, desperate to touch him, to feel him on you. He removes his thumb from your pussy and you begin moving your hips at a rapid pace, trying to chase his hand, trying to get that delicious friction back.

He laughs. It’s not one of amusement, but one with a dangerous lilt. He scares you, just a little bit, when he gets like this. There’s something in the way his eyes glint, the way he watches you, as if he enjoys making you suffer, enjoys hurting you.

“Do you wanna cum, baby?” He asks, and you instantly nod your head, tears beginning to form at the delay of your orgasm.

“Well, that’s too bad. Maybe this will teach you not to talk to anyone else. Because you aren’t gonna cum for a very, very long time, angel.”

And you don’t. Not until the very end of the night, when you’re filled with his cum and covered in marks. When you get out of the shower the next morning to look at your sore body, you see a bruise on your back in the shape of a cherry red heart.

Ethan joins your side in the bathroom mirror, smiling at his handiwork, and wraps his arms around your waist. You turn around and kiss him.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he says. “And all mine, aren’t you?”

“all yours, baby.”

[gunnerfc]

Grace Clinton NSFW Alphabet (18+, minors DNI!)

A: Aftercare

Grace has a bottle of water and bath or shower ready to go after she knows you both have calmed down

B: Body Part (their favorite body part of themselves and their partner)

Her favorite body part is her hands because she loves when you hold on to them during sex

Her favorite body part of yours is everything, she can’t decide on one thing and it changes every day

C: Cum (anything to do with cum)

The sight of you with cum on your mouth and chin leaves her breathless

D: Dirty Secret 

Hearing you beg for the first time plays on repeat in her mind all the time and every time you have begged her to touch you since then never fails to boost her confidence and make her work even harder to make you feel good

E: Experience (Are they experienced? Do they know what they are doing?) 

Experienced in the sense that she had sex before you but you both grew into things with each other and discovered new things together

F: Favorite Position 

She doesn’t have a favorite because as long as she can have her hands on you and make you feel good or vice versa, she’s not complaining

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)

You both can be a bit giggly at times but as the night progresses, you get more serious

I: Intimacy (How intimate are they during the moment?)

So intimate, the first few times you had sex she would pause (at seemingly the worst times aka when you were so close to coming) to ask if you were okay

J: Jack off (Masturbation HC) 

She does it when you two aren’t together and she needs a release and she doesn’t really care for it because it just doesn’t feel the same

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks) 

Praise kink, she thrives when you tell her how good she’s making you feel

L: Location (Favorite place to have sex)

Either of your apartments, she doesn’t want to risk someone potentially seeing the two of you, especially a teammate

M: Motivation (What turns them on?) 

Hearing you beg, it really turns her on

N: No (Something they wouldn't do)

Nothing public or anything that could hurt either you even accidentally

O: Oral (Preference on giving or receiving)

Grace likes both equally but has her moments where she prefers to give

P: Pace (Fast & Rough? Slow & Sensual?) 

Slow and sensual, she wants to truly make sure you are enjoying every second and doesn’t want to rush anything

Q: Quickie (Thoughts on quickies) 

They’ve only happened a few times but she enjoys them because she just loves being able to make you feel good

R: Risk (Are they open to experimenting) 

Only if you two talk about it and both agree on whatever it is and if neither of you enjoy it then it won’t happen again

S: Stamina (How many rounds) 

You go for a few short rounds but sometimes there are longer rounds

T: Toys 

A strap or vibrator gets used sometimes but both of you prefer to use either your mouths or fingers (or both)

U: Unfair (Do they like the tease)

You tease her more than she teases you but your teasing sounds more like praising

V: Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make) 

Grace has been really loud a few times, mainly in the beginning when you first started having sex but as time has gone on, she’s learned to control her volume a bit

W: Wild Card (Random HC)

When you begged her to go faster and harder the first time, she was determined to do exactly what you asked and give you one of the best orgasms ever (and she did!)

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s a bit high, but she knows the two of you can’t spend all your free time having sex even though she wouldn’t be opposed to that

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

If you two have sex after a game or a long training day then she’ll fall asleep pretty quickly but If it’s an off day where you two haven’t done much, she’ll be up for a bit afterward

[bbokicidal]

Baby, congrats on 1k! So well deserved 💖

Can I request #2. How he reacts to your newest partner when he has feelings? of course for Binni (did you have any doubt I’d ask my man Bin!?) make it sfw or nsfw, whatever you want.

Love u 💞

Best Friend Prompt #2 - How he reacts to your new partner when he has feelings for you - Seo Changbin

He'll put on a brave face in front of you the moment you tell him you've begun dating someone in the last week. He'll ask what they're like, if they're super hot, what made you want to start dating them.

He'll compare your answers to himself, wondering why it is that you couldn't see how he was all of those things as well. He listened to you, never outspoke you when you had concerns or worries, always observed what you liked and even bought you random gifts here and there when he noticed you'd taken a liking to a bracelet or jacket he wore recently so you had your own.

He'll listen to you talking about them when you go out for lunch one day, and then prop up a smile on cautious lips and wave when he's introduced as your best friend. He'll sit back and run his thumb over his coffee cup, taking in the sight of the person across from him that you had your own hand intertwined with.

He'll lounge back with a giggly response each time you explain how you first met your partner; how you bumped into each other at an arcade and spent the entire evening together just to share your first kiss on the same night. He'll nod along, smile, play the part of your excited best friend. The person just off screen. Unnoticeable.

Overlooked.

He'll make a comment. It's quiet, barely there, about how you shouldn't gotten a ride from your partner instead of having him take you home - because finally, the anger begins to bubble in his veins. He doesn't like being upset, and he rarely is, especially with you; But his patience can only wear on for so long before it stretches thin and breaks like ice settled over washes that threatened to push up, break through - and create a storm.

He'll open the passenger door for you as he always does. But you'd heard his comment and confronted him about it. And the ice breaks.

His emotions come pouring out. He's impatient at first, mentioning how you had never taken into account his actions of giving you gifts, making sure you get home safe, taking you out for meals and making sure you are well taken care of as his best friend and hopefully future lover.

He knew deep down inside that you didn't mean to hurt him this way. You were oblivious as to his impatience - Oblivious as to why he was hurting so heavily.

The veins of his neck pry at his skin when you argue back at him that you did appreciate everything he'd done for you. He starts to yell then, and you yell in return - begging him to tell you why he had jumped off the deep end so suddenly. He slaps a hand to his chest as he takes a step closer, spitting his feelings out in one unwavering sentence. It's sure. It's stable. It's fully backed by how he feels.

"You don't understand what it's like to not be good enough for anybody no matter how hard you try."

It should have been him.

Your heart hangs heavy on thin strings that dangle from your ribs. How couldn't you have seen sooner why it was he had grown tense nearing the end of your conversation earlier in the day? How his jaw had clenched as your arms wound around your partner, wishing them farewell and pressing a kiss to their cheek in nothing but pure adoration.

And how do you tell him - your best friend of many years, who has stuck with you through thick and thin - that you understood now? How would you explain why it was you had gotten with your partner?

As he turns away and crouches among the sidewalk, his hands press hard against his eyes to try and force the tears breaching amongst them back into their seams; You aren't sure you have the right to tell him.

It had always been him.