#but I'm wondering if maybe their dog was being sick or something?

[tiger-moran]

Slightly odd shit was going on last night, first the back security light went on about 2 a.m. and was still on several minutes later so I went to look what was triggering it and it was this big fluffy white-with-a-dark-tail cat I don’t recognise in our garden, going around and around and around the water feature, going along the wall in front of it, pawing at the cover on it (it’s empty and wrapped in plastic because of the cold weather now), going round the back of it under the bushes, doing this over and over again for about half an hour until it finally left. I don’t know what the hell it was looking for but obviously something about it is Very Exciting if you’re a cat.

Then when I was looking out to see if the cat was still there this light started shining on my bedroom wall, moving about. It was someone going round one of the gardens up the road with a torch at like 2.30 in the morning. ???? 

What the hell was going on last night?

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Stuck like glue

Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness"

A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish.

Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader

WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction.

Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set

You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it. 

The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay. 

“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”

 He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.

“Coop?”

You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention. 

“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot. 

“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.” 

You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt.. 

“Cooper! What happened to you?” 

Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag. 

“Do you have any on you?” 

A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”

Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.

“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm. 

You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly. 

“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied. 

Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach. 

After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem. 

Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes. 

“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”

You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”

“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”

Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”

An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler 

“Open up.”

He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again. 

You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead. 

“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems. 

“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”

You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”

The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.” 

Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so. 

“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”

Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless. 

“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”

He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”

The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in. 

Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy. 

The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper. 

He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up. 

“You ain’t gonna share?” 

You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”

A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail. 

“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”

He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”

You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate

“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side. 

His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”

You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”

You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”

“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”

You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”

Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, back pressed against his chest. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”

He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.

“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”

The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”

You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.

“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”

Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.

“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.  

Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.

Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth. 

“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.

The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache. 

“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[crustyfloor]

A new pop-up store dropped for ALIEN STAGE's 2nd anniversary and wow. It's so sick.

It's Interesting what exactly these experiments are focusing on and monitoring.

Instrument practice

I found it interesting earlier that Till was so tame, more so than he usually is when he's going through experiments, but music, and making music is what he loves doing, So he was fully in his element here. This was probably the only thing he was made to do by the aliens that he at least tolerated.

(Additionally, judging by his collar (orange), he was at least calm. maybe he just isn't fazed anymore.)

//Side note, that head contraption looks familiar BUT this most likely isn't related at least i hope

(It puts me at ease, at least..)

Dance practice

This surprised me, but I suppose Mizi needed more skills.

She looks very startled here, and nervous(?) +It looks like she's doing this while singing. And with that face covering I assume this was a test monitoring her dance balance, precision, etc. At first, I did think it was odd, "Why would Shine put her through that" But alas I was reminded that even though Mizi is the flower of the group she was never untouchable, to Shine, this was the equivalent of teaching your dog to sit and stay.

(seeing this it reminded me of those scenes in movies where the people are dancing, and the music gets faster and faster until they fall. I wonder if she was doing through something similar to that)

Singing practice (?)

Similar to Till she also looks quite calm outwardly, if the machine around her neck is an iteration of the collars they have, then this process wasn't something she liked, or given how intense this experiment looks, this was a test of high-pressure to ensure she always stayed calm during performances (?). Then again this could also be a posture practice given all the structure focused on maintaining her position.

(What I believe was another form of this test was shown before so I think so)

(With her hands in a praying stance I wonder if she was praying to herself or singing a religious song (sweet dream?) It's also interesting that the machinery around her looks like a halo, and she looks so...angelic? holy?)

Image making practice

By image making, I think they made Ivan replicate expressions with his face. Whether this process was painful for him or not...I'm not sure. But it looked visibly uncomfortable, maybe that was the point. (His expression, even in this circumstance is so dubious..)

Ivan, among other things, needed to have a spotless appearance to be successful, his image was a priority given his skills were certainly guaranteed.

I assume the aliens eventually took note of his lack of expression, in the real world this can be a detriment to one's career, so the Aliens had to ensure quality was perfect. (To a more...dedicated level)

Superiority test

'Superiority test' Is very vague.

HyunA is very calm here too, likely sedated in that water with all the tablets on her. I guess this was a test to get an idea of a pet human's strengths and weaknesses, endurance, and temperament to compare and contrast them with others, testing who is more viable for Alien stage?

Another interesting, and sad part about this is that HyunWoo was there, watching his sister through her experiments.

(Also, it looks like both of her legs are normal, no alien leg yet.)

Heart rate variability

And finally, the most visceral of them all. The wording 'variability' makes this all the more sickening, the Aliens were testing his heart hours, testing it at different rates, speeds, and states. And he was in agony the entire time. Even the way he's clutching his chest, it gives me chills. This would've been a completely harmless test in a normal setting, as something quite similar to this can be performed efficiently in real life. But he's being tortured in the process.

This is one of the first times we've ever seen Luka's face so truly clear and unprotected, (understandably so.) He's even crying.

[sugar--brown]

A bit of fluff

Because we need more fluff to balance all the angst people are creating with the cat!Martin AU by @ultramarinaa

I'm preparing a proper big fic, but meanwhile I made this.

What were the chances to read a book made of only two pages and turning into a cat because of it only a few months after your promotion?

Not much. Martin was sure of that. As sure as the fact, he was in deeeep troubles. What would his boss say?! Turning into a cat should be pretty high on the scale of being unprofessional. Especially after introducing himself as the incompetent fool who let dogs run free in the archives! Jon will be so disappointed and annoyed! He was toasted!

Maybe... Maybe he could fix this? Maybe if he could read the book backward…?

Martin took a tentative step forward and immediately face-planted on the floor. Right. Four legs instead of two. That was great.

He meowed - gosh! he meowed! - pathetically before standing up, ready to make another attempt. But this time, everything was blurry.

… why was everything blurry?

Oh. His glasses. Right. Face-planting on the floor meant losing your glasses. Strange thing that his clothes disappeared with his body, while his glasses stayed the same…

Ah. Great. He couldn't put them back on. Because he was a cat. Without hands. Just very big and soft paws.

He really needed to fix this before anyone sees him!

Staggering a little, Martin began to walk cautiously toward the evil book. He was scared - heck! even terrified - of it. But what could it do more? Turning him into another type of cat?

With apprehension, Martin used his front right par to hit the book quickly. Nothing happened. Ready to bolt backward, he very slowly peaked at the fourth cover.

A wonderful fairytale where only the purrest love can help the hero to save the damsel.

Ah. Ah. Ah. Very funny.

Annoyed, Martin hit the book so hard that it flew away, landing between cardboard boxes full of statements. Great! He was already sick of it!

Two hands grabbed him and lifted him up.

“Hello!” cooed the stranger who just grabbed him without any warning.

Martin meowed and hissed in panic, squirming with all his might. But the stranger hugged him against their chest and started scratching him behind the ears. Oooooooh that was good…

“There, there, it's okay now. You are safe. I don't know how you got here, but I promise I won't hurt you.”

Wait. That voice… was it…?!

“I'm Jonathan, what's your name?”

Martin's eyes grew wide in shock. That was Jon! His boss! His prickly, cold-hearted, boss! And he was cooing at him like he was the cutest thing in the world.

Oh gosh… he was in deep troubles.

“Hey bossman! Did you find Martin? He was supposed to-... is that a cat?”

Tim appeared around the corner, clearly amused by the scene. Jon immediately stopped cooing and scratching Martin's ears, becoming all tenser and professional.

“Ah. Yes, it is… it is a cat. I caught it before it can do any damages.”

Hey! Martin wouldn’t have done any damages! He knew he wasn't the most graceful person, but he wasn't that clumsy. …right?

“What are you all doing back there? Oh! That's a very cute cat, Jon.”

And here was Sasha. Each second was more humiliating than the last. Martin really wanted to run and hide somewhere dark, tiny and safe right now.

“Do you know where it comes from?” asked Sasha, getting closer to inspect Martin.

“No, I just heard him. He doesn't have any tattoos or tag on him.” answered Jon, putting unconsciously a possessive hand on Martin's back. “I have not the faintest idea how he arrived here.”

“Ha! You know cats, boss, they are real champions when they want something!” laughed Tim.

“Champion… that's a good name.”

“Wow! You are already naming him? You move fast!” teased Tim with a smirk.

“We can't keep him, he may have an owner already.” added Sasha, more pragmatic.

“W-well… We can't call him ‘the cat’, that would be properly ridiculous.”

If Martin didn't know better, he would have thought Jon was embarrassed. But he couldn't, he was never embarrassed. On the other hand, he hadn’t reacted like this with the dog so…

While he was lost in his thoughts about his ridiculously cute boss, the group had moved on back to the break room.

Wait. What about the book?! And his glasses?!

Martin was almost able to escape, but Jon's soft hands captured him over his shoulder at the last second. But that didn't stop him to agitated his fluffy paws with a few panicked meows.

“What's wrong, Champion?” asked Jon, looking back with surprise. “Oh, good spot! There are glasses on the floor.”

Martin had half a hope to see Jon putting his glasses on his nose so he could see, but of course, he didn't. Instead, he inspected them before putting them in his pocket with a disgusted face.

“Aren't they Martin's?” asked Tim with curiosity.

“Yes.” groaned Jon. “He must have lost them while clumsily searching for a statement. I still don't understand why he had been assigned here. He clearly didn't have the competences to-... hey!”

Martin had escaped Jon's grasp with a hiss. He knew he wasn't good at his job, but that didn't mean he wanted to hear it!

Before Jon could grab him again, Martin flew under a shelf, deep enough so he couldn't be grabbed. He heard the others shout in surprise and agitation, but he was too agitated to pay attention.

He vaguely heard Tim saying to “cut him some slack” and Sasha guessing that “champion surely needs space”. And Martin decided to do just that. He would stay here until everyone was gone, and then he would find the book to turn himself back.

Hours went by. And Martin must have snooze at some point because when he focused again, everything was calm and quiet. Tentatively, he came out.

Nothing to worry about. The lights were off and Tim and Sasha weren't here any more. So, he walked as silently as possible to where he had launched the book.

Until he heard a groan.

Martin froze. And slowly, oh so slowly, turned his head. 

Jon was still here. In fact, Jon was so focused on his work he hadn’t noticed Martin. So he could have continued, but… something was off. Jon didn't look… healthy. Or at least less than usual.

He seemed barely able to not passed out. He was pale, sweaty and his eyes were unfocused.

… when was the last time had Jon eaten? They didn't see him going out of his office at lunch…

With a sigh, Martin shook his head and walked to the break room's fridge. To be fair, he was a bit hungry himself. And he knew his fish salade was in here. He always brought double portions in case someone forgot their lunch.

It took a lot of time and effort, but Martin was able to open the fridge and to drag the dish to Jon's office.

“Champion? You're out? What are you… oh.”

Jon stood up quickly, too quickly because he needed a few second to make the world stopped spinning. Then, he knelt in front of Martin.

“Where did you… oh, you must be hungry. Right. Sorry… I'm a bit rusty at taking care of a cat. You are really smart, you know? Stealing Martin's food… I'm sure he wouldn’t mind, since he left work early to go find a replacement for his glasses.”

Martin huffed in annoyance. Why did Jon was so… harsh? Sure, he was a fool but still…

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Let me open this.”

That what he did, but he didn't eat. Maybe he needed some encouragements? Martin his best imitation of pleading kitty eyes while hitting softly the salad.

“You… want to share?”

Jon visibly melted, almost like he was ready to cry. But instead, he just sat on the floor and began eating the veggies while giving the sardines to Martin.

They shared in silence. But it was the best interaction Martin had Jon since… since ever! So he wouldn’t complain.

When they finished, Jon suddenly bent down and gently hugged Martin, bumping his head with his.

“Thank you…” he whispered in a broken voice.

And the genuine, honest, sweet, smile of Jon made Martin think that everything wasn't so terrible.

[leaderwon]

come back i still need you

paring : nonidol!jungwon x reader

warnings : character death, ANGST left and right, mentions of being depressed

word count : 1.5k

luna's diary : kinda shed a tear writing this

IT HAD BEEN, 3 weeks and 6 days, since you left him.

He was stuck in the endless loop of the 4th stage of grief. Depression, and was left wondering if he'll ever move forward to the next stage and accept your death.

Oh how cruel the world was. Taking away his lover and the plans for the future you guys had carefully planned.

You guys were walking on the street on the day it happened. Giggles filling the both of your bodies as a silver band of ring with a small diamond shined on your ring finger. He had just proposed to you, with promises of giving you everything he had to offer, of staying by your side until his last breath, to grow up even more and have little yous running around. Maybe you could get a dog and a cat and live in a beautiful home.

And then it happened.

He still remembers the way you shoved him to the side as a car came speeding towards you. Your yells still ringing in his ears from the past 3 weeks.

He remembers slowly walking to you trying to take in what just happened. In the corner of his eye he could see the once silver, shiny ring now covered in blood. Your blood. It was everywhere. He felt sick to his stomach. He cradled your face as he broke into sobs. "No no this can't be happening baby wake up" He called out for you as his sobs turned into a breakdown. He saw the light in your eyes slowly disappear. He saw the love of his life leave him, even though you were right there.

2 days later, it was your funeral. As everyone showed him sympathy and gave him hugs. He was still in denial. The first stage of grief. He couldn't even count the amount of times he heard "let me know if you need anything, Jungwon". He needed you back in his arms, but none of the people could give him that. There's no way you could have just left, right? What about the promises? The home? The dog and the cat? mini yous?

Few days later, he slowly slipped into the second stage of grief. Anger. He was mad at no one but himself. He should have been the one to die, not an angel like you. The car should have hit him. Not you. Or maybe he was mad at you too? why would you sacrifice yourself and leave him alone?

Then came in the third stage of grief. Bargain. He prayed and prayed that this would be a long painful nightmare. No way the world could have been so cruel on him. He was just 20 wanting to see life with you by his side, there's no way his fate was written like this.

After realising that this wasn't a dream, and you really were gone, entered the 4th stage of grief. Depression. He was an empty void as he laid on his bed all day leaving all his friends worried. He only got up to eat, which was very rare by the way. Leaving the texts his friends sent him on delivered, he read the last conversation you had with him. Where he mentioned the date and that he had a surprise for you and your excited text messages as a small smile crept on his lips. How he wished he never took you out.

Come back. He still needs you.

It was a new day as the sun shone through Jungwon's curtains. Today, was your one month anniversary, of you getting engaged and also since you left. Today was the worst of all days. It had been a month? no way. "i wish i could turn back time and change everything" he mumbled.

"Time" he jolted up as he remembered something you said about turning back time. Hope rushed through his eyes as he swiftly got out of his bad and rushed to take a shower and get ready. He could not believe he did not think of this sooner. Getting dressed, he rushed out of his home. Coming back taking the ring you once wore in his hands and heading to his car.

"I'm going to get you back, my love"

20 minutes later he reached your apartment. He did not have the courage to step into your apartment after your death. Opening the door he smelled your familiar scent for the first time in a month. Not wanting to waste time, he got in and rummaged through your belongings. "Where is it, god damn".

Finally spotting the shiny wooden box. He picked it up seeing a necklace with a tiny clock in it. Wearing it, he saw as it started to glow.

"How may I help you today?" a voice spoke out as he looked at a beautiful woman in front of him.

"Who must you be? you're not one of them" The voice continued referring to your blood line. "I'm Yang Jungwon, I lost my lover in a car accident, exactly a month ago from now"

"You wish to bring her back?" The voice questioned him. "Yes I need to please. She mentioned about this pendent to me a while back. You need to help me" He replied begging. "Jungwon, I'd suggest you move on. You'll lose yourself if anything goes downhill, and there are less number of chances of it going good and it going bad." The female figure said showing sympathy. "Please, miss. I don't have anything to lose anymore, she was my everything" He said breaking down into a sob.

Sighing, she touched the pendent on his colar. "What time do you want to go to?" she asked giving in. "Exactly a month ago" He said as the necklace started to glow again. "Goodluck, Jungwon" she said.

He was going to make sure you were alive. But at what cost?

In a blink of an eye, he was back. On the street, with you. "I honestly didn't expect you to do it today" Your voice said. Oh how he missed your voice, to see your face in front of him again and to hold his hand. He suddenly remembered why he was here as he became hyper-aware of his surroundings. He knew the car would be coming your way any second. Before he could think of changing your position, it was too late. The car was already coming towards you at an increasing pace. There was no way he could save the both of you.

So he did what he initially came back for.

He saved you.

Shoving your body to the side, he felt the car hit him as he lost consciousness. The last thing he saw was you standing and looking at him in utter shock. Atleast you were safe and alive.

"Jungwon? baby hey, wake up" you cradled his face and broke down into sobs, the same way he did, in another time line. You left a peck on his forehead as you left him there rushing to your apartment.

I'm not going to lose you Jungwon. Not like this.

You rummaged through your belongings, the same way he did. Wearing the pendent, you wished to go back 20 minutes from your present.

You were back with him, on the same street, holding his hand as you listened to him talk to you. You knew the time was near as you walked faster looking for a turn that could divert you form the path in which it was about to happen. Before you could find something, you heard the car's tire screech behind you. There was no way you could save the both of you.

So you did what you initially came for.

You saved him.

You shoved him to the side as the car came in contact with your body. The last thing you saw, was him. Atleast he was safe and alive.

He slowly walked to you trying to take in what just happened. In the corner of his eye he could see the once silver, shiny ring now covered in blood. Your blood. It was everywhere. He felt sick to his stomach. He cradled your face as he broke into sobs. "No no this can't be happening baby wake up" He called out for you as his sobs turned into a breakdown. He saw the light in your eyes slowly disappear. He saw the love of his life leave him, even though you were right there.

It was a new day as the sun shone through Jungwon's curtains. Today, was your one month anniversary, of you getting engaged and also since you left. Today was the worst of all days. It had been a month? no way. "i wish i could turn back time and change everything" he mumbled.

Fast forward to him wishing of going back to a month prior to save you. He managed to save you, but lost his life. Not being able to manage with the grief of him gone, you tried to save him. You managed to do so, but you lost yours in exchange. And this continued.

The woman was right afterall when she warned the two you.

Trying to save eachother, the both of you were stuck and lost yourselves in an endless time loop.

@leaderwon 2024. Do not copy, translate,alter or plagarize in any platform.

[vixen7243]

Undivided Attention: Gaz

Gaz X AFAB!Reader | TF141 X AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | John Price |Ghost

MDNI!!

Y/N was Task Force 141's combat medic, a sweet little thing that barely ever since joining had seen the light of day in a fight, they sheltered you to the base and that was it, the most action you had seen ever was on the rare occasion that Price okayed you to get on the helicopter with Nikolai to pick them up and that was it. At first Y/n was unbelievably annoyed with them when they had started developing feelings for you and started to slowly shield you from the tainted things in the world, or so they say but whenever they would throw that stupidly lame excuse around in front of you a hearty laugh would erupt from you. "Tainted world? Guys, the amount of dead bodies that I've had to leave in my wake before joining you all is enough to fill hell alone. I'm parted of that tainted things in this world."

The angry glances and scoffs that followed your attempt with reasoning with them made you hold your tongue after John's following statement. "You won't ever be apart of that world anymore, not while I'm still breathing."

It had taken a while for the team to warm up to you, the thought that General Shepard was the one to specially assign you to them didn't sit well with them till they had seen the back handed way you would openly shame him and degrade him with annoyance and slight humor gleaming in your eyes. "No wonder you have been working so well with them, rabid dogs always know how to stick together." Barking a laugh at him you made quiet the spectacular come back on his embarrassing attempt to hit on you and get you into his bed, only for you to make an impotent comment to him and his age. After which, with the brightest red face, being sure to always avoid your presence whenever possible. After that, Soap, Gaz and even John eased up on their ignoring and slanted looks, having small talks with you eventually enjoying long chats with you late into the night if you or them, couldn't sleep. Ghost still gave you hard stares every once in a while but he would at least respond back to you when you asked him anything or talked to him.

Somewhere along the way of slowly easing you out of the field and keeping you at the base, the men had even started leaving lingering touches, longing glances and sweet nicknames that would make your stomach flutter. It was one late night in John's office, you were yet again up late with him, mostly keeping him company, he sat at his desk, papers scattered, his bourbon abandoned long ago while you were insisting he drink tea after 7 if he needed to drink something, this being better for his liver. You sat in a chair on the other side of his desk, legs kicked up while you read a book from his mini library, bored mostly but you always were curious of the books he read so you pushed through, a night that was the same as any other when you would sit in his office, the sound of the clock ticking, his pen scratching along the papers and the occasional turn of a page from you. Finishing the last page you slammed the book shut, making John look up at you, stretching back into the chair you groaned loudly, "Good lord Captain, can't you read mor entertaining books? Maybe ones that also have a happy ending, thought I was going to fuckin cry, why do authors always kill the character that draws out the best in other characters?"

John set his pen down as he also leaned back cracking his back as he settled in, "You still finished the book, I would say it was entertaining enough. Would you rather I read one of your books this time maybe?"

A blush dusted your cheeks as you thought about your stash of books in your room that you kept locked in a footlocker, they were definitely dirty and maybe more sick minded than what John was used too. "Uh, no, we'll stick to your books, you definitely couldn't handle my books." A small chuckle left your lips, a smile coming up thinking about how John might blush at some of the things you've read, or even are currently reading. You wonder how he would even react to knowing that you read about girls getting absolutely destroyed in bed, so sore they can't even barely move after, even passing out because of how good it feels. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance up noticing that he was watching your lip.

"You don't think so?" You watched has his hand ran over his beard that he hadn't gotten around to trimming, or more or less you haven't, he had you take up the dutiful job of keeping his facial hair trimmed and kept up, you sometimes sitting in his lap, doing your absolute best not to grind near his crotch when seated. "What do you read then? Enlighten me." Looking away from him you tried to think if you should lie or make up an excuse and leave, to embarrassed not to tell him the truth of the filth that you read. Hearing him clear his throat, you glanced up through your lashes watching as he pointed to his lap. You had gotten so used to sitting in all their laps, your ass barely ever sat the seat of a proper chair or couch, especially in the rec room, Soap and Gaz loved to pull you up into their laps, their hands massaging your thighs or back as your fingers massaged their scalps, necks or shoulders. Ghost sometimes would push you to one side of the couch, throwing himself down, resting his head in your lap while your fingers played with his blonde hair, you hadn't gotten a chance to see his face but he does now wear sometimes a surgical mask, black. Getting up you made your way to him, sitting in his lap, feeling like a little doll, you belonged to all of them, you knew that, they knew it. As soon as you straddled his lap, his hands crept up and down your sides and thighs, you were trying to find the words you wanted to use to get yourself out of this but looking into his eyes, you were stuck.

That night, through soft words, guided affection, and encouraging embrace, John set claim to you, later in the morning notifying the rest of the lads you walked out to the rec room Gaz and Soap the first up and right in front of you like puppies. You all had a very long chat about boundaries and limits, safe words and commitment that morning. After all was aired out, you were officially locked down to the base, and eventually, surprisingly fast just accepted it.

Soap was the handsyiest, even around base, he always had his arm wrapped around your waist, face buried in your neck, there was no reining him in, this was him holding back. In the rec room, he would beg you to cuddle on the couch, which would lead to cockwarming, then eventually down right fucking, he loved having you around him, you did nothing but praise him, words he barely ever heard but yearned for. You handed them out to him like candy, without a second thought, sometimes admittedly yes, you should have told him to stop, not in public, no PDA but god, his puppy eyes always made your heart clench, you just couldn't say no to that face, the bastard.

Ghost was more reserved, having to be careful do to him being a superior officer, as well as John. That's not to say that he didn't follow you around the base when Soap wasn't glued to your hip, whenever he found his chance, he would stick to you, happy little glances his way making him preen. Getting you to the rec room where you two could be slightly more open with affection, Ghost was almost, almost unrecognizable with his little whispers, your praises making him blush, his softened eyes quietly begging for more of your attention. Once he has you in his room, god, he has you pinned under him, sometimes even holds you above him, just begging for more praise, his voice uncharacteristically cracking from emotion, your gentle hands smoothing over scars that make him flinch, whining as he thrusts into you, body breaking as you just keep giving him everything, telling him that he deserves everything, even forcing him to say he deserves this, as you kiss his body gently, caressing him, handling him as if he was the finest piece of glass that could break from even a breath. You really did enjoy giving Ghost your attention, especially when you knew at times it was helping him heal wounds that he refused to ever heal, he was your delicate flower, even if to all them, you were theirs.

John got you most nights and mornings due to how busy he was, it was unspoken but agreed upon, you slept in his bed, unless one of the others truly needed you after a bad day, or dream. Sometimes when he could spare a moment in the day away from the confines of his office and work, he sauté you out, like his own little personal mission, and you would go back with him to his room, or his office, which ever was the closest. After making sure the door was locked he would hold you, your words ringing in his soul as you held him tightly, whispering the sweetest love you could offer him that wouldn't make him rebuttal that he was too old for you, that he was being selfish in holding you the way he does. That if he was a better man, half the man you praise him to be, he would stop his advances, let you go, close himself off again, but he couldn't he was filth, worse than filth for keeping you so close. You would hush his negativity with kisses, massages and words so sweet you would see the broken captain that tried so hard to stay strong for his team, for you. You held him together as he found the warm and love he didn't believe he deserved inside you.

Gaz, sweet, patient, caring Gaz, he let you be, he never followed you, never looked for you, he gave you space. He knew you would come to him, you always do, you always make sure to divide up your days for all of them, giving them all the attention and love you could possibly offer them while trying to give yourself some in small increments whenever possible. Gaz watched as you would coddle Soap, giving in to the grown mans pleas of just the tip before absolutely destroying your little cunny on the couch, both of you spent and panting when Ghost comes in to lecture Soap on keeping that to his room. While also noticing on the rare occasion when Ghost wouldn't close his door all the way, seeing as he begs under you, quiet tears slipping down his lieutenants cheeks, your sweet words and encouraging praise breaking the man down even more before the two of you flip over, Ghost's head resting over your heart, the both of you taking a short nap in each others embrace. Seeing when his captain would take you to his office, and then hear him confined in you his fears, failures and short comings, all which you counter softly, Gaz would walk away hearing his Captain break down with you as well, before he's sure, as you had done with Ghost, hold him.

Gaz was patient, but to a point. For lords sake, he was a man too, he had needs, desires, problems, and he was apart of this team. Whenever he would notice in the past fortnight that you were making your way to him, his body would tense, a pent up of emotions flooding him, ready to be released into your caring embrace only for you to be dragged off by one of the others. Never, not once did he ever speak up with his annoyance, or aggravation, he kept quiet, waited, but, today was it, he couldn't be patient, or your good boy while Soap was dragging you away from his path to take you to his room. Gaz stood up abruptly and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder, "Damnit no, it's my bloody turn with her, the lot of ya keep out my room for the night." Huffing ignoring their questioning gazes, not quite used to Gaz having that kind of tone, he carried you to his room slamming the door shut and locking it before setting you on his bed gently, he wasn't trying to take his annoyance out on you truly but he was at his limit.

"I'm sorry Kyle."

"Not you that should be apologizing, come here." Kyle got up into the bed after kicking his boots off, waiting for you to do the same as you curled up into his side, resting your hand on his chest, head over his heart listening to it pound heavily. There was a beat of silence as you stayed on his side before pushing up slightly and looking into his eyes.

"Talk to me, you have me all night I won't go anywhere."

Kyle let loose everything, everything he was feeling, had been holding in, the things that had been happening, people that had been pushing him, his desire for you, and finally he broke down to his loneliness of being without you for so long. You listened, unjudging as he started to fall silent, bring your hand up to his cheek you cupped it as you kissed his other cheek lightly, the soft look in your eyes making his heart wrench, he really did miss having you in his arms. You reassured him, changing positions as you cradled his head into your lap, breaking down everything he told you, lifting up his soul with your loving gentle touch, words lighting up his world.

After a comfortable silence befell the both of you, Gaz turned squeezing your thigh, while he moved your body where he wanted, slotting himself between your thighs, groaning as he dragged your body down the pillows. He kissed your stomach as he undid your pants and dragged them down your legs, kissing and nipping your thighs and ankles before going back down and nudging your underwear to the side laying a soft kiss to your clit. "Kyle" Wrapping your fingers into his curls you moaned, feeling his smirk against your cunny as his tongue darted out and dragged up your slit before he started grabbing at your shirt and pushing it up. Taking it from him you slightly pushed up and tugged your shirt off, feeling him moan into you you flinched as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. Feeling your juices start to coat his lips and drip down his chin he sat up and pulled his shirt off, guiding his hand back down tugging on your underwear while undoing his belt and pants. Tugging on your underwear you kicked them off wrapping your legs quickly around his waist when he freed his aching cock, wrapping your arms around his shoulders you kissed him, your tongues sliding into each others mouth, reexploring each others bodies, his hand groping, mapping, feeling your body under him, his cock bobbing at your entrance, pearly beads of precum dripping onto your clit.

Pulling back, he looked between your bodies, gripping the base of his cock before lining himself up, and pushing in slowly, giving short, slow thrusts as you squeezed the back of his neck moaning into his skin. When he bottomed out inside of you the both of you groan, he was slotted in right at your cervix, fixing his position, he set either hand on each side of your head before pulling back just enough to where his tip was resting inside and then slamming back into you. Setting that pace, the neither of you could hold your moans back, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing, carrying out into the hall. Reaching your hand down you skimmed your fingers over your clit rolling it between your fingers, your back arching up, and your walls clamping down onto Kyle's cock, your orgasm washing over you quickly. Kyle fucking you through your first one smirking down at you, "First one, many more to go gorgeous."

Kyle pulled back and grabbed your hips turning you onto your stomach, yanking your hips up before sliding back in, your sensitive walls fluttering around his cock, a whimper sliding out of your mouth, his pace was quick and harder. You were sure that by the end of the night, your cervix had to be bruised but god, it was feeling amazing and you would welcome the arch for the following days. Kyle grabbed a fist full of your hair before pulling back, your back arching deliciously, pushing up onto your elbows you cried out when you felt his tip sliding against your gummy spot making your toes curl and a broken groan fall from you as you gushed around him for the second time, a cry fall out of your lips as he continued to pound into you. "Kyle, fuck, I-I can't..."

Smiling he pulled out and turned you over, pushing your knees up to your chest, both legs thrown over his shoulder and he guided his cock back in, "One more for me gorgeous, I know you can do it, come on." Crying out he relentlessly pounding into your swollen cunny, pushing his forehead against yours, sweat falling from him to you mixing with your own, your skin stuck together, your cum connecting the two of you when ever he pulls out for a moment before he pushes back against you.

Feeling him twitch inside of you, you kissed him, massaging his back and scalp feeling his hips stutter when you started, lifting your head as much as you could, you whispered sweet praise into his ear, your voice hoarse from crying and moaning. Kyle couldn't hold back, slamming his hips back into your sweet spot he pushed the both of you over the edge a groan mixed with a whimper pushed out of his chest while you cried out using whatever strength you could must to hold him as close as possible.

Slowly pulling out, he rolled beside you pulling you into him, both of you smiling exhausted, his hands rubbing your lower back and kissing your forehead. You intertwined your legs, and rubbed the sides of his neck before scratching the base of his head humming. The moment was sweet and quiet between the two of you, content with just the presents of the other. You had fallen asleep after a moment, Kyle figured he would be nice and let you rest for a few before you woke you up with his head between your juicy thighs, and his fingers restuffed deep inside you. Besides, the night was young, you guys could rest for a bit.

----

John Price |Ghost

[cursingtoji]

I'm crying these cliches are so cute!! I think Denji with kissing under the rain + wet transparent shirt (he'd totally stare) + taking care of him while sick, would be very cute!!

𝑾𝒆𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕 ✧ 𝑲𝒊����𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒂𝒊𝒏 ✧ 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒎 ┊the perfect combo so far?? thank so much for joining 🧡 The Clichés ™

Denji stood outside the Public Safety building where you were supposed to meet him for a mission assigned by your superiors, Denji was totally fine by your delay, it gave him time to psychologically prepare for being alone with his crush.

The forecast said it would rain but Tokyo was under a downpour since morning.

“Denji!” you came running and waving, no umbrella, nothing to cover you except your own hand above your forehead so you could see your path.

Denji waved back but he froze when you got closer and he could see how the white shirt of your uniform was glued to your skin, precisely to your boobs and the way it bounced with your seemly simple pink bra as you jogged in his direction. Did he just die? Are you an angel?

He could hear your voice and something about having your umbrella stolen when you went to a public bathroom, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off your chest, it looked to soft and he wondered what would be like laying down on them.

“…Denji?” you snapped your fingers on his face, “What’s wrong?”

Denji limited himself to just point down at your chest.

“Oh, good thing I’m wearing a bra today” you whispered like a secret and Denji felt steam was about to blow out of his ears like a cartoon, “Let’s go, there’s a convenient store on the other side of the avenue, we just need to cross that bridge. You’re okay with taking some rain, right Denji?” you laced your arm with his and he gasped feeling your plump chest against his arm.

Teasing Denji was very fun, but when you were in the middle of the uncovered bridge drenched to the skin and spotted your superior Kishibe coming from the opposite side you dropped your act.

“Uhm Denji? Maybe we should go back…” you crossed your arms to cover your chest.

Denji got confused at your sudden behaviour change and then he spotted the old man approaching under his umbrella while the two of you looked like abandoned dogs. Denji had more than just hots for you, and that meant he wanted to protect you from embarrassment, so he quickly moved to be in front of you, shielding your body.

“You kids are going to get sick” Kishibe declared looking down at the two of you.

“Her umbrella was stolen” Denji explained and you looked at your superior from above Denji’s shoulder.

“In the metro station toilet” you added.

“What about you, Denji?” Kishibe asked.

“I never had one, I usually just put a jacket on my head” the young boy confessed without any embarrassment scratching his neck.

“Gosh, here” Kishibe pulled his wallet and a thousand yen bill of it handing it to Denji, “Buy yourselves an umbrella and a warm drink” he resumed his path as you thanked him and watched as he disappeared on the corner.

“Hey, wanna buy fried chicken instead?” Denji held the sides of the bill excited, “Oh it’s getting wet” he noticed and put away in his pocket.

You were still at a lost of words for how quick the blond was to read the situation and protect your honour, so you didn’t hesitate in pulling him down by his tie and lock lips.

Denji only realized what was happening when your warm wet lips were already pressing on his cold ones. The rain keep falling around you as you nibbled on his bottom lip.

“Thank you, Denji, you’re really sweet” you whispered with the tips of your noses touching, Denji slowly opened his eyes noticing the droplets sitting on your eyelashes, “Let’s get fried chicken… and a coffee, you could use it” you took his hand holding it in hopes to warm it up a bit.

Maybe he did die and this was what heaven was like.

“We have a problem” Aki said when you answered his call. Twenty minutes later you were in his apartment knocking and asking if everyone was okay since he didn’t give you much information. “He’s your problem now, there’s medicine in the bathroom cabinet” Aki opened the door in his uniform already leaving for work as Power followed him.

“I made soup” she informed.

“That’s boiled egg water, please throw it away” Aki yelled climbing down the stairs.

“Denji?” you called softly finding him in the couch with a heavy blanket and a very red nose.

“I’m dying, help” he mumbled and you leaned to touch his forehead.

“Oh my god, you’re burning” you squatted to be on his eye level, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you walk on the rain with me that day.”

“It was worth it” he admitted with a nasal voice due to his stuffed nose.

“Come on, let’s remove those blankets before you combust” you started to pull but he held to them whining about feeling cold, “You had the fever meds yet?” he nodded, “Then how about that: you lose the blankets and I let you lay down on my chest.” Denji pretended to think, but in reality it took him less than two seconds to kick out his blankets.

“Totally worth it” he murmured having his hair played with on top of the softest pillow ever.

See also: Sexual Tension — Aki 🔞

[soap-ify]

nsfw below , mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader.

03 — i'm sorry i'm the one you love.

chapter summary — a visit to simon's place after finding out that he's sick was definitely not the best idea.

tags / cw — some fluff, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, suicidal thoughts, major self deprecating thoughts, heavy themes, simon's past, simon fucks up royally, reader has anxiety, simon can't communicate for his life, some nsfw. [3.1k words]

masterlist | ao3 | prev | next

Simon’s immunity to being sick was one of those traits about himself he was the most proud of.

But oh well, maybe he wasn’t completely immune.

Queasy stomach, constricted nose, trembling muscles — Simon would rather die, ironically enough. He hated this feeling, made him feel like an imposter in his own body, wanting to crawl out of this mess that left him nauseous.

He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten sick. Maybe it was the horribly cold weather in the place the taskforce had pinpointed one of the targets at. Or maybe it was the drunk woman who was all over him in the bar they went to after the mission was over. God, that woman.

An uneasy pit formed in his stomach as he thought about that night, that woman pinned beneath him as he—

Fuck it. He didn’t want to think about the details. All he knew that he kept on thinking about you while he was fucking her, and it only made him want to rip his skin off even more. You. You were probably waiting for him at your home, wondering if he was safe. Alive even.

The mission had gotten extended due to some issues, and he was just so fucking frustrated and tired. That woman was just… there, flirting with him so shamelessly, and he was too exhausted to stop her, thinking that she might somehow fill the void in his chest, or even give some temporary solace to how lonely and isolated he felt despite being around everyone else.

He was so wrong. Every thrust into that woman felt like being restrained, as if hands were gripping onto his throat tight, mocking at his incapability of coming to proper solutions to his damn problems. He felt trapped, chains tying him as he dissociated more and more.

That woman was sickeningly satisfied that night, and Simon just felt more and more ill, confused and lost amidst the overwhelming storm that raged inside his head. Was he guilty? He wasn’t even dating you. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t fucked anyone else since meeting you, other than this. You made him forget others.

No, it wasn’t guilt. Well, it was but there was something more too.

It was just that Simon became more and more self aware of how noxious he had become to himself. His own doom.

Anyways, it was probably the cold weather that made him sick.

Now back in his shitty apartment after five weeks, all he cared about was getting some damn medicines and sleeping it off, and trying not to think about you.

Which was hard, too hard. You had somehow built your own corner in his head, started living there too. Permanently? Probably. He knew he should tell you that he’s back, but again, does he really ever tell you anything?

A cough escaped him and he groaned in annoyance, the urge to just suffocate himself with his pillow really strong.

Kyle was an angel, really.

“The mission was so exhausting. Problems here and there.” He groaned, tipping his head back while lounging on your couch, opening up the small box of chocolates he had bought for you. “Try it, mate. Got it at the airport.” He grinned, tossing you one piece of wrapped chocolate. You undid it and tossed it in your mouth, immediately feeling the sweet ball of chocolate melting at your tongue, a happy noise escaping your throat.

“Holy shit.” You gasped in awe, earning a knowing chuckle from Kyle.

You were sitting with your legs crossed, constantly shifting and fidgeting, your sock-clad feet somewhat restless as you tried to resist the urge to ask about Simon.

Though it seemed that your mouth worked faster than your brain.

“How’s Simon?” You asked, voice a bit strained and you suddenly regretted every single thing in your life.

Kyle was a bit surprised that you were asking about his gloomy Lieutenant out of everyone else, though he didn’t question it, not an ounce of suspicion on his face. “Sick.” A snort left him before he could hold it back, a hand coming to cover his mouth as he snickered. “He was so mad ‘bout it. You should’ve seen him.”

Sick? Truth be told, you had never considered the possibility of Simon getting sick. The concept just seemed so… foreign? Maybe you had just always thought of him as something else. That creepy balaclava never helped.

A sudden overwhelming wave of worry churned in your stomach, your fingernails digging into your palm while you swallowed the lump in your throat, your brain desperately trying to hold onto the scattered rush of thoughts and form a plan somehow. You weren’t even that mad at him for ghosting you or not indicating anything about his return. He was sick.

“That sucks…” You awkwardly replied, biting your inner cheek.

As soon as Kyle was gone, you grabbed your jacket and keys, leaving your apartment too with only one place in mind.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Simon’s voice was sickeningly hoarse, and he didn’t look any better — pale hair all messy and the dark circles around his eyes a bit more prominent, a black surgical mask covering his mouth while he coughed a bit. You don’t think you’d ever properly seen his hair before fully except a few strands. You liked it.

He looked at you standing at the front door of his apartment, looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours that were full of concern, a plastic bag in your hands that seemingly contained some vegetables, some meds and other food. Shit, I should have tidied up my place, his brain screamed at him.

“Kyle told me you were sick. I got worried.” You mumbled sheepishly.

Of course it was Kyle. Simon tried hard to not click his tongue and nodded reluctantly, stepping aside so you could get in.

“You shouldn’t be standing and walking around, Si…” You frowned, quickly putting the plastic bag on the kitchen counter. Before he could even protest, you were already gently pushing onto his chest, trying to make him move until he sighed and sniffled, letting you push him into his bedroom.

“You don’t have to, love.” He grumbled weakly and proceeded to lay on his bed, watching you pull his blanket over him, disappearing out of the room for a moment before coming back with a bowl of cold water and a towel, gently beginning to dab the wet towel on his burning forehead.

Simon felt… weird. A part of him felt embarrassed for letting someone else take care of him, someone as sweet and kind as you, someone who genuinely cared. He was used to being the one always watching out for others, making sure his teammates were safe and sound.

And the other part of him felt so nice — the part that had just been trapped in there ever since he dug himself out of that damn grave years ago, the stench of the rotting corpse still vivid in his head. The real Simon. You were making that part of him feel loved even if you weren’t aware of it.

He doesn’t remember when was the last time he felt so comforted. And it terrified him, this feeling of warmth that was spreading in his chest, a feeling he had somewhat started loathing at some point in the past few years.

But he wanted it more, wanted it like a starved dog wandering in a street, wanted it like a man needing water. And he was scared that this need of his would terrify you — that you’ll catch him ravenous and berserk, devouring your love, or even you, in such a manner that will make you shriek and leave him forever. Leave him after learning who he truly was. Disturbed. An Outcast. An unwanted dog.

Not a man, never a man.

A cough rumbled from his throat, and you left the wet towel resting on his forehead, your hand reaching down to rub his chest through his shirt in circular motions. “I’ll make some soup for you.” You mumbled softly, the urge to press a soft kiss in between his brows strong. But you couldn’t do it. He would probably hate it anyway.

You pulled away and looked at him one more time before leaving his bedroom, ready to make some warm soup for him with the groceries you bought for him.

This allowed him to close his eyes for a few minutes, trying to cancel out the loud buzzing in his head. Though that wasn’t a good option too, really, but there was nothing else he could do. Sleep never came to him anyways.

First it was just darkness, the only sounds in the bedroom being of his slightly heavy breathing, soft sniffles leaving him. Then it came slowly, images flashing in his head. Brutal and unforgiving. Blood, bodies, knives, guns, shouts, his family, Tommy, Beth, everyone. A meat hook, a scar, more scars, Roba, his father.

His father.

“Soup’s ready!”

His eyes snapped open as soon as he heard your melodic voice from the kitchen, soft footsteps drawing closer to the bedroom. Sweat had formed on the back of his neck as he panted heavily, clearing his throat. Clear your damn head.

“Here you go.” You walked into the bedroom, a warm bowl of soup in your hands as you gently placed it on the nightstand beside him.

Simon sat up on the bed and gave you a silent nod of gratitude, grabbing the bowl of soup, fiddling with the spoon, eyes elsewhere. He couldn’t meet your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and naked.

You shifted on your feet, a small smile moving up on your lips once he finally took a taste of the soup, happy to not see any sign of disgust on his features. You knew he wasn’t going to show that he liked the soup anyways. These were the little things you took note of, the subtle relaxation in his brows and the content sigh that escaped his mouth.

Minutes passed by and you managed to sit on a chair nearby his bed, silence lingering in the room while your eyes looked around, taking in just how bleak everything was. White walls, grey sheets, a severe lack of pictures or literally anything on the wall.

The only thing you could find was the little picture of him and the rest of the taskforce hung on the wall. It was sweet. The four guys were on a beach — Johnny having a beaming grin on his lips while Kyle had an annoyed one, trying to get the other’s hand off his ticklish sides. John had a cute big smile that highlighted his cheeks and the scrunch of his nose, like a quokka. And then there was Simon, face covered by the balaclava, classic. Though he didn’t appear to be brooding or anything, no. Instead, his eyes held a relieved and satisfied look. Transient happiness. The skin of his exposed torso was all flushed, and you could barely hold in a smile.

“Do you burn?” You asked, trying to hide the subtle amusement in your voice.

“No, I tan.” His hoarse voice replied, taking another sip of the soup, sounding so damn serious despite the lie. Typical Simon.

Silence soon filled the room once again, though it didn’t really feel comforting as it usually was between you too, sometimes. It seemed tense and thick, your right leg bouncing up and down restlessly. Restless for what? You wanted to do something, but you didn’t know what that something was. Everything just felt so odd today, so distant. Even with the little banter here and there, something seemed wrong.

“Um…” You finally managed to croak out, clearing your throat before looking at him. “There’s a new ice cream parlor that just opened around the street recently, and people seem to like it quite well. Would you like to go there sometime?” You asked with the little courage you had gathered in the past few minutes. Basically asking him out on a date, playing with the fire. But maybe it would help cheer him up, right?

He was silent for a while, and you momentarily thought that he didn’t hear you before he finally spoke, voice devoid of any emotion.

“No.”

Silence. Somehow more agonising than before. Heat spread through your cheeks and ears, an uncomfortable heat that made you feel too ashamed and humiliated, too weak and shocked. No. There were no signs of hesitation in his voice, and your mouth began working faster than your brain, anxiety simmering beneath the surface.

“O-Of course not now… When you’re not sick.”

“Still a no.”

You swallow the heavy lump in your throat, your heartbeat accelerating while your fingernails begin digging into your palm, breathing becoming all the more shallow. Were you annoying him? Please don’t speak, don’t make him more angry. Don’t say anything else, don’t breathe, don’t—

“Why are you being like this?”

Your strained question finally made Simon look at you, his stare too callous. The heat was unbearable, and you almost struggled to breath, trying your best to maintain eye contact with him, feeling the itchy sensation spreading through your skin. Inhale, exhale, inh—

“You don’t ever shut up, do you?” He threw a question back at you, though it was rhetorical and just cruel. Too cruel. Were you really talking too much? Your mouth quickly shut at that, breath catching in your throat, confusion and uncertainty screaming through every little action of yours.

Your heart felt too heavy, begging to run out of your chest, leave you abandoned or just simply run for its life, find some sort of freedom and solace. Your throat tightened up, restricting you from saying anything. But Simon would like it, yeah?

Simon saw it, the consequences of his words written bright and clear on your face, your shy smiles and little jokes being replaced by… that, horror and hurt etched on your pretty face. If he could somehow reach for the knife stuffed beneath his bed in front of you, he would and do something about this fucking mess that he had become.

Those words came out of his mouth in the spur of the moment — the headache and congested nose, the sick feeling in his chest and then your genuine care — everything was too overwhelming. Why are you even wasting your time over someone as damaged as me?

He hated it, hated how the more overwhelmed he’d get, the more he’d snap and say shit he never meant. He didn't know how he’d become like this, maybe because of the shouts he always heard when he was still a rookie, maybe how everyone prioritized strength and anger so much to be seen in the battleground, to be strong and good at your work. The military really did train him into a violent dog, didn’t it?

Or maybe he was one ever since he came out of his mother’s womb.

But Simon wasn’t going to show the vulnerability seeping into his being. Not yet, probably not ever.

You couldn’t meet Simon’s stare any longer, your eyes looking up at the ceiling, tears already prickling at the edges of her eyes, and it stung.

“I just want to sleep. I don’t need you here.” He spoke in a way that came out more as a cold hiss while he clenched his jaw behind his surgical mask, and it made your resolve even weaker, fighting back your tears and trying not to flinch once slammed the empty bowl on the nightstand, proceeding to lay back down on the bed and pull the covers all over him.

He doesn’t need you here.

You sniffled softly and nodded to no one in particular, walking over to his bed and gently patting his shoulder through the blanket. “Get well soon, Simon… I left the meds on the kitchen counter.” You spoke, unable to hide the way your voice cracked.

And just like that, you walked out of his apartment, pretending to ignore the ache in your heart.

Pretending to have not noticed the random tiny bottle of perfume laying on the couch. The perfume clearly did not belonging to him.

You didn’t like walking through the streets. There were always too many people around, making your clutch the ends of your sleeves tight and quicken your steps up.

But today, all you could see were the happy couples, smiling and holding hands. Young, old, married, dating. It was so sweet that it made you want to cry and plead for some love too, something that would make you forget about the cracks forming in your heart and the loneliness creeping behind you like a ghost. Literally.

You had come to the conclusion that there was probably something wrong with you that just made you so… So unlovable? Was it how anxious you were? How talkative you’d get? How you’d just speak without thinking?

Why can’t Simon and you be one of the couples holding hands right now? Walking through the streets and giggling at some awful jokes he’d make, spending time together, being in love.

As soon as you reached your home, you collapsed on your bed and let the tears finally fall down your cheeks, a silent pained sob escaping your lips. It hurt, it hurt so bad. You hated it, you went over there to check up on Simon, not anger him.

You hated him, he was so mean to you. But you loved him too. Loved him like the ocean loved the moon, always staring at it in awe, wanting to get closer but never reaching it.

You hated that fucking perfume you spotted in his apartment. Probably belonging to some other woman. Did Simon call her ‘love’ too? You know there was no point in feeling so mad when the agreement was clearly ‘no strings attached’ — no catching feelings. But you somehow always managed to fail at this kind of stuff.

You choked on your sobs and curled up on your bed, too exhausted and tired, hands reaching out to grab the stuffed toy you had and clutching it tight against your chest, breathing heavily, wanting it to somehow ease the storm brewing within you, every sound coming out of you more painful than before.

“I just wanna sleep…” You whimpered to yourself, closing your eyes while the tears uncomfortably slid down the bridge of your nose in this position. Simon’s words.

Sleep and just get lost in a world where you’d be happier, in a world where you weren’t struggling with everything.

Sleep and somehow disappear.

notes — the demons really won with this one.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Hii i love ur work i was wondering if u could do an angst story when ur the fem 9th member and jyp adds another fem member and they start ignoring you yelling at u and acting harsh and only one member is by ur side all the time

Replaceable

-9th skz

Warning: yelling, panic attacks, harsh tones, angst

Pairing: I.N x 9th member

Summary: a new member joins your group and it seems everything starts crashing down when you realize your being slowly replaced.

!not proofread!

Hey thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy this short story lol! Have a good day 🩷

**

"Chan? I don't know where you are but I've been outside. Waiting. You promised to pick me up remember? Just text me or call me when you get this." I send the voicemail and let out a frustrated sigh. Had he forgotten to pick you up again? This was starting to become really annoying.

The last time he forgot because apparently the new girl, Haneul, needed help recoding something for the album. I let it go because it was the album after all and I want what's best for the team. But this time I had no idea why he wasn't texting or picking up.

The sky starts to drizzle and I let out a sigh. Slowly starting the walk home. I knew I was going to be soaking wet when I arrive at the dorms so I just put my phone in my bag to avoid it from getting spoilt.

The past few weeks, the schedule was really busy especially now that their was a 10th member. Everyone was trying to make her feel like home even offering her MY room as I took the couch until we were transferred to our new dorm. It was frustrating because now everyone's attention was on her and the fact that the boys were excited for a girl joining got me thinking that maybe they were tired of me.

The rain was pouring heavy now and my tears were too. Last week Han forgot to practice with you because he was with Haneul teaching her the rap part for the new song. Last week Felix forgot that you were making brownies with him and decided to do it with Haneul instead. Last week Changbin double booked his schedule with the recording studio and told me to come at a later date because Haneul needed more attention. LAST week Leeknow took her to the new game park when he had promised me to go with.

Haneul was slowly getting me replaced. The less I talked the more nobody would notice me.

My phone vibrates and I quickly pull out my phone.

"H-hello?" I say into it while snifling.

"Y/nie? Love? Are you there? What's all that noise?" I hear I.N's voice booming through the phone obviously panicking.

"I'm walking home." I sadly say looking at the puddles that had completely got my shoes wet.

"But it's raining dogs and cats outside! Yah! You're going to get sick."

"Chan forgot to pick me up again but it's okay I'm like 2 minutes away from the house."

"Oh baby. Let me make you some hot chocolate and run you a bath."

"You don't have to babe-"

"No I will! Now hurry along please. I want you home safe."

I say a little bye before rushing to get home.

My shoes let out squishy sounds against the hard wood floor as I make my way through the house.

"Where's Chan?" I glare at Changbin who's walking to the kitchen.

He stops and his eyes go wide when he finally sees me. "Oh my God. What happened babydoll?" He gasps at the state I'm in.

"Where. Is. Chan?" I ask one more time. Angry wasn’t even the word that could explain the emotion I felt at the moment.

"His in the studio-"

I walk past him and charge at the studio where I open the door to find him with Haneul laughing at something.

Was he being Foreal right now?

"Chan how could you?!" I say hurt at him causing him to jump and look up at me.

"Y/n? Oh my God what happened to you? Why are you soaking wet-"

"You fucking forgot to pick me up from schedules Where were you huh? Huh?" I frown and glare at him.

He looks panicked as he picks up his phone to check his reminders but his eyes open wide in realization.

"Oh my God- y/nie I'm so sorry. Haneul-"

“It’s okay,” I say not even bothering to fight with him. It wasn’t worth it. It was tiring.

"What’s going on guys?" Leeknow says coming into the room confused.

“Yah! Y/n your getting the whole house wet with your clothes? What’s your problem?” He scolds me.

“I had to walk through the rain and you don’t even care, no need to yell at me.”

The boys all start piling up into the room trying to figure out what the matter was.

"Y/n! Your wet!" Han exclaims

“Yes I think I get the point people!” I groan and shiver as the cold air hits my body.

“Y/n go get change please, now I have to clean up your mess,” Leeknow’s tone is harsh. I can hear it with a tint of frustration.

“Jeez Leeknow you won’t even bother to ask if I’m okay?” I roll my eyes trying to avoid the tears that threatened to fall down my cheeks once again.

He just dismisses me with his hand and walks out the room to do whatever he had too.

“Anyways, Haneul do you still wanna watch riverdale later?” My neck snaps at the direction that Hyunjin stood. Did he just say riverdale?

“Yeah yeah, I hope it’s not too much work but I was wondering if we could also make those little friendship bracelets-“

“Hyunjin did you just say riverdale? That’s our show,” my voice is now soft and quivering. Why would he watch our show with her.

“Y/n don’t be selfish, she’s just watching season one. It’s not a big deal.” He didn’t care. He didn’t care at all.

“We can alwyaks watch another series Hyunjin I don’t mind really-“

“Nah Y/n will be okay she’s just being dramatic like always,”

My breathing started to pick up. I couldn’t hold in the tears anymore. I was cold, tired, hungry and emotional. The sob that left my lips represented all that.

Chan’s eyes go wide when he notices the distress I’m in. “Hey, why are you crying? Are you okay?”

I don’t even bother to answer and just walk past the boys that stood by the door looking confused and worried.

“What’s the matter Y/n? Is it because of riverdale? Please don’t tell me you’re crying over that!” Hyunjin says as his hand grabs mine.

“You guys treat me like such a bother ever since she got here. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. I’m I boring to you guys now? All of you have been mean or pushing me aside for her. I don’t even ask for much but to have my friends back. If you don’t want me in the group anymore just tell me.”

I’m a mess, I’m a mess. I free myself from his grip before walking up the stairs where I run into I.N. He gives me a smile and realizes the state I’m in. His smile drops.

“Hey- woah woah woah, what’s wrong?” He asks but he was the only one that knew the current position I was in. I had told him the day he saw Chan snap at me when we were learning a new choreography and I had messed up.

“I’m- I’m just tired.” I cry as he automatically pulls me into his arms.

“Don’t cry hmmm. It’s okay I’ve got you okay? Let’s go upstairs and get you showered and changed. Then we can talk about it okay?” He whispers in my ear and I just nod in response.

He pulls me up the stairs and into my room where I find my pajamas laid out and some candles lit. The bathroom was running.

He slowly undresses me and guides me into the bathroom where I sit in the hot bathtub.

“Join me?” I ask well basically whimper. Craving his touch.

He chuckles. “Yeah sure my love. You miss me hm?”

“Yeah,” I softly say before blushing.

He gets undressed and gets into the tab. He leans back as I sit in between his legs. My body slowly meting into his.

He leaves tiny kisses on my naked shoulders while slowly massaging my neck. I find my body relaxing and slowly shutting down.

“Hey do you wanna talk about it now?”

“Mmm, it’s just that Everbody’s been acting so different towards me eve since she joined, I told you this last time but now it’s worse. Sometimes they don’t even acknowledge my existence.” I sigh feeling the sadness start to rise again.

“Baby, I told you last time to talk to them about it. What happened?”

“I don’t know I geuss, I geuss I just don’t want to make them feel like they’re picking.”

“But it’s your feelings that matter

**

LMAO THIS IS LIKE ONE OF THE FIRST STORIES I TRIED TO DO, SHOULD I DROP IT?😭

[poppy-metal]

IM GOING BACK TO COACH PATRICK, FUCK IT

because he like. he knows how awful this is - you're like, probably barely twenty, for christsake. but you look at him with such dumbstruck adoration and he realises what it's like to hold that kind of real power over someone for the first time and he wonders if this is what him and art looked like that sunny afternoon watching tashi play.

and he knows hes a horrible, perverted, gross old man, because your backstroke is as clean and powerful as hers was. your cloying, puppy-dog voice whenever you're trying to get something you want is just like his. and maybe you're just a really fucking good tennis player. maybe he's making the resemblances up in his head.

but it doesnt matter because when you're face-down in your frilly pink bed begging for him to "fuck me harder, daddy, please, fuck--" he can pretend.

of course, he actually comes down to the even more horrible realization he might be in love with you. outside of your resemblance to his former lovers. which is a whole nother can of worms.

as is the first big tennis event you attend with patrick zweig as your coach - running right into the donaldsons. who think your game is great, and wouldn't you like to play with them sometime?

-toxic poly kit ♡

tw for: TOXIC POLYCULE IN THE MAKING. LIKE SO TOXIC. LIKE TASHI AND PATRICK ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE AND NEITHER IS ART FOR THAT MATTER. READER NEEDS TO BE FAR AWAY FROM THESE PEOPLE BUT HER FATE IS SEALED.

cw: toxic age gap dynamics, cheating (not really but it feels like it), everyone but reader being a POS. age play talk hinted at but not explicitly on page, mommy and daddy kink. some dubcon mentioned as well.

I'm playing with the idea in my head of patrick using you as a distraction (at first) and later on - a way to get art and tashis attention. he knows them. he knows that seeing him be the coach of some up and coming tennis prodigy would grind their gears. you notice how tense he is on the day you play against donaldson - how much seriously he'd taken preparing you for this match. and you can see why. you're excellent, but art wipes the floor with you. you keep up as best you can but you've never gone against someone that intense before. by the end you're dripping sweat in rivers and panting. you feel sick, thinking you let down patrick, but when you meet him he's ecstatic. grinning ear to ear. he said he knew you wouldn't beat art - that wasn't the point. the point was to make him sweat a little, and you had. you'd gained both his and tashis attention with your style. he promises to take you out for ice cream later - he just needs to talk to some old friends first.

you wait for hours before you get antsy and go looking for him, the hotel you're staying at is big and the room is lonely without him. you look but you can't find him anywhere. it takes you awhile before you think to check the donaldsons suite. you ask the desk lady what room they're staying in and are surprised when she gives you a room key. says your name is on their guest list, along with patricks. you blink but take the key anyway. it's strange to you, you'd never met art or his coach - wife - before today. even though you'd seen them plenty on TV. you'd look up to them if you weren't already so spellbound by patrick.

you're naive, because you don't think to knock before going in - your mind just wants to see your coach - be near him, you don't mind at all that it's probably rude to drag him away from his friends.

you should have knocked.

you halt in the doorway as the sight before you registers. slowly like through molasses.

alot of bare skin. you recognize patricks body immediately, having felt it against your own plenty of times.

it's not just his body though. it's his and tashis and arts and they're all undressed and tashi is riding - she's riding patrick like she's done it a hundred times before, moaning loudly as she bounces up and down on that same cock you've felt inside you. patricks hands are on her waist - gripping her like a lifeline. you can hear his grunts too, he's chanting her name - over and over again in reverence. in adoration. your stomach twists.

and art, the man who'd you gone toe to toe with on the other side of the net just hours before is lying beside the two writhing bodies, slowly stroking his cock as he bites his bottom lip, seeming content to watch for the moment.

none of them heard you come in.

you don't know why you stand and watch for as long as you do. some twisted sense of masochism. you feel stupid you think, for thinking you meant anything to patrick other than a tight body to fuck and a ticket to land him where he is now. you feel stupid and so you burn this Image into your head and let it hurt you so you'll learn to not be this stupid ever again.

morbidly, you think of how beautiful they all look together. and how this isn't the first time they've all slept together. the ease of which their bodies move is too fluid.

tashi leans down and you get a view of her bare pussy split around patricks cock - she murmurs something to him, something that makes his fingers come around and dig into her ass as he hisses her name. something that makes arts hand speed up on his cock.

it's when his fist is wrapped around his tip that his eyes flick to the door idily - your eyes connect and his hand freezes on his dick. his pink lips part in shock and he sits up, the motion catching tashis attention and she turns her head, hips still moving on patrick. and something about that - about locking gazes with tashi in particular - sends you stumbling back.

you spin around and dart out of the room. you hear the sound of shuffling, patrick cursing and then calling your name but you're already gone. slamming the door behind you.

you don't really have anywhere to go. patrick drove you here. you're completely dependent on him to go back home. but the thought of patrick finding you right now, all pathetic and confused and heartsick - you can't stomach it.

you don't go back to the room. you leave the hotel entirely. lost in a city you've never been too.

in your pajamas.

people give you strange looks as you pass by and eventually you find a bar. you're not old enough to drink yet - but you're older than 18, so you're allowed in. you wish you could have a shot, but you settle for a glass of coke and cradle the glass in your hands, thinking about what to do.

you'll have to go back eventually.

or you could uber home? it'd be expensive as hell, given you were states away from home. you patted your bottoms stupidly only to realize you'd left your phone in the room.

great. you'd definitely have to face patrick.

you imagined the pitying look he'd give you. like you really thought he had any loyalty to you, that you were special. like his little girlfriend or something. stupid. stupid girl.

you blink in suprise when someone recognizes you from today's match, wanting your autograph. it gives you a moment of levity. at least you have tennis. you did really like the sport. you wanted to keep getting better at it. but could you do that under patrick still? with how you felt? you didn't know. the thought of seeing him at all made you want to throw up.

you spitefully hoped he felt like shit but you doubted he did. you at least hoped he was panicking about where you were. the stress was the least he could suffer.

you dont know how long you sat there. the ice cubes in your coke long since melted. you hadn't yet taken a sip - when you felt someone sit next to you. and a wash of elegant fragrance hit your nose. whoever it was, they had to be rich.

you peeked at them and your fingers twitched around your glass in shock.

tashi.

every hair perfectly in place. dressed to the nines in a simple black slip dress. looking stunning and beautiful and not at all affected by earlier events.

she tilted her head at you, “coke? really?” her lips curl. “don't you think you deserve something stronger?”

your lips part. you dont know what to say to this woman. this woman patrick is obviously in love with. you should spit in her face.

“im not old enough.” is what you say instead. meekly.

“jesus patrick,” she says under her breath. his name on her mouth makes your gut churn. she pinches her brow like she's tired. “at least tell me you're legal.”

“im nineteen” you tell her, a little petulant. you didn't like being treated like a child. well. except those times when patrick - no. don't think about him.

tashis manicured nails tap against the bartop as she studies you. you are reminded of how under dressed you are in comparison to her and twitch under her analytical gaze.

“that's some backhand.” she tells you conversationally and you don't know what to say to that. she's talking to you about tennis right now?

“thank you.” you're compelled to tell her anyway. an automatic response to her praise, which you sense doesn't come often.

it's strange that you want to cry and kick her and ask her for a hug all at the same time.

“have you always been that good?”

you stare down into the liquid of your glass, frowning.

tashi sighs. “you're hurt.” a statement. a noted fact. “patrick didn't tell you about us.”

tears prick your eyes. you don't look at her. so fucking stupid.

“have you been fucking him?”

you glance at her in suprise and she smiles. sly.

“I know you are, actually.”

“he told you?”

“no. but it's obvious.”

you go quiet again.

tashi fills the silence easily. “he's losing his mind looking for you right now. I don't think I've seen him so worried about someone other than himself.”

you try to ignore the way your heart jumps hopefully. fail. stupid. stupid.

“it doesn't matter.” you tell her. “why are you telling me this? you won him.”

she raises a brow.

“there's no winning patrick zweig. hes about as loyal as a dog. which is to say - he'll lick whoever holds a hand out.”

you don't know why you have the desire to defend patrick. you just don't like the way she's talking down about him. you don't think she's right, which is insane to think considering the situation you're in.

but had he ever promised you loyalty?

“you love him.”

another statement.

you don't bother denying it, either.

tashi hums. seeming to appreciate the lack of bullshitting. she shoulders her little clutch and flips her hair smoothly. everything about her is smooth, she moves effortlessly like water.

you can see why patrick wants her.

“come with me.” her hand slips into the dip of your elbow. you don't fight her as she tugs you up. she pays your tab - just an undrunk coke. “I'll get you something real to drink back at the hotel.”

you flinch at the reminder of the scene you walked in on. she sees it and squeezes your arm, guiding you outside. for some reason unknown to you, it comforts you. the touch somehow dominant and maternal all at once. you let her lead you back to the hotel like a lost little lamb.

when you get back to her room - patrick is immediately in your space - he's frantic and relieved and angry all at once. big hands cupping your face. holding you back to inspect you for any damages. worried eyes flicking up and down your body. his fingers dig into your shoulders and he gives you a little shake when he decides you're okay.

“dont ever pull that shit again.” his voice has that serious, pissed tone to it that usually makes your pussy wet. and well, it still does. but now you're genuinely upset.

you smack his hands off you. “don't tell me what to fucking do. you're my coach not my dad. I don't report to you.”

his eyes flash. his jaw ticks. you hate how fucking beautiful he is when he's angry. you hate that you know the reason his hair is wild and stuck in all directions and his shirt is on inside out is because he'd been in the middle of fucking another woman.

said woman who is pouring herself a glass of wine and watching the interaction with thinly veiled interest. art comes up to her, touches her arm, and she gives him a look, seeming to communicate alot with just that. he bites his lip and leans his hip against the dresser, watching you too.

“im not your daddy, huh?” patrick says, mean. “funny because that's not what you said last night when I was inside that tight cun -”

your palm rings from the slap you deliver. his head snaps to the side with the force of it. your eyes burn and you shove a finger into his chest. he looks down at you in shock, his cheek red from your handprint, lips parted as you get in his face.

“and you'll never feel it again.” you tell him, chin wobbling. you force it straight. “I don't want your fucking slimy hands on me ever again.”

patrick works his jaw. licks his teeth and you realize you'd slapped him hard enough to split his lip when he tongues the beading of blood there.

“you're a child.” he tells you. cold.

you glare up at him.

“yeah, one you couldn't keep your dick out of despite being in love with two other people. fucking pervert. I bet you signed up to coach all those girls because no one your age would fuck you and some jailbait pussy would be good for your bruised ego, huh.”

patrick is looking at you like he wants to wrap his hands around your neck and choke you. you almost wish he would. your pulse hammers wildly in your throat, and you shoot a look at tashi and art over his shoulder and she dips her head - something about that motion - like she's giving her approval for you to go on, makes you lick your lips and continue -

“and I bet when I threw myself at you and begged for private lessons it felt real fucking nice to be wanted like that. to have someone in the palm of your hand that thought the world of you, only because she couldn't see the real you -” you step closer, craning your neck to meet him. “- but I see the real you now patrick. and I know you're nothing but a bumfuck loser who couldn't amount to anything on his own, so you had no choice but to manipulate someone more naive than you into thinking you were hot shit.” you gesture to tashi and art. “and they're married, patrick. they're in love. you'll never fully be apart of what they have, but you'll keep taking scraps because you're fucking pathetic when it comes down to it.”

“stop fucking talking.” he grits out. he looks, for the first time, like he hates you. “you don't know shit, little girl.”

good.

“you're right I don't.” you step back. “I don't think I can begin to grasp the dynamic going on here between the three of you, but I do know I want no part in it.”

you reach behind you for the door. “im going back to the room. do what you want and then take me the fuck home tomorrow.”

the snick of the door closing sounds more like a resounding slam. patrick stares at the empty space you occupied and swallows heavily. his chest aches. he rubs his jaw.

“I like her.” tashi says, coming up behind patrick. her breasts push against his back through her dress but he doesn't feel anything. “she reminds me of me at that age. is that why you fucked her?”

patricks lip twist to the side and he steps away from her. turns and glares even though he knows this shit is all his own fault.

“she's nothing like you.” he spits.

“she is and she isn't.” art says. he'd been chewing on his nail, elbow propped up on the dresser. “she has tashis fire. but she's sensitive. vulnerable, too. you really fucked her up, man.”

a pang hits patrick right in the stomach.

“I dont know how to fix it.” he admits miserably. he squeezes his hands into fists. runs a hand through his disheveled hair. puffs out a breath. “she fucking hates me.”

“it'll make her a better player.”

“jesus, tashi. that's not what this was about-”

“I know.” she shrugs. “but it will. she might even beat art next time.”

art snorts, but he doesn't disagree. a big part of him feels so bad for you - he sees himself in you, too. that adoration you had for patrick. that hope and fragile tender heart. it was unfortunate you'd gotten wrapped up in patrick and tashis orbit just like he was, because there really was no escape. you could let it eat you alive and make you miserable, or you could jump into the fire and let the flames consume you. art had made his choice long ago, but the decision hadn't been easy. he just hoped it didn't break you, in the end. he had liked playing with you. would like to do so again.

tashi slid her hand up patricks arm.

he inhaled, “I dont know if…”

“its alright.” she told him, running her other hand down his stomach and cupping his already hard cock through his slacks. patrick moaned, unable to help himself. swaying into her. “I want you to tell me about her while you fuck me.”

arts cock twitched in his sweats despite himself. he swallowed at about the same time patrick did.

“tash.” patrick groaned as she undid the buttons - slid his pants down and gripped his flushed cock. “you're so fucked up.”

tashi just grinned, using her grip on his cock as a leash as she stepped back pulling him with her - art watched like a hungry hawk. already sliding his own hand into his sweats to grip himself.

tashi layed back on the bed like a cat, spread her thighs as patrick leaned over her - guided him inside her -

“tell me how tight she is.” tashi whispered right as he slid home and patricks eyes fluttered shut with a groan as he rocked his hips. tashi gripped his ass to pull him fully against her. “tell me.” she panted.

“she's - fuck - she's so fucking tight. has the smallest fucking pussy -”

tashi hummed and licked her lips - “mm, I bet. did she bleed the first time?”

art cursed as his cock throbbed. tashi looked over at him with a knowing glint in her eyes as he flushed with shame. tugged on his cock helplessly as he waited with baited breath for patricks answer.

“Yeah. shit, yeah.” patrick hunched over tashi, working his hips faster. the smack of their flesh starting to fill the room. “but she wanted it. so fucking much - fucking - fuck - begged me to put it in again when I pulled out.”

tashis eyes fluttered, her own flush filling her cheeks. art realized she was getting off on this too, it wasn't just about teasing patrick. art groaned. his wife was such a fucking sadist and he loved her for it.

“begged her daddy to break her little virgin pussy in -” she goaded, wrapping her legs around him. “know she calls you that. can see it all over her face. you're such a dirty old man.” she moaned, the insult having no heat with how turned on she sounded by it. “she's in her room crying and her daddys gonna cum in my pussy thinking about fucking his little girl.”

jesus christ.

the sound patrick let out was animalistic. he pressed tashi down into the bed - fucked her hard and fast and tashi squealed - wrapped her arm around his shoulder and whispered dark things in his ear that art couldn't hear but just the image of it all - the debauchery of what they were all doing- getting off to you- he was so close -

“should've made her stay - should've fucked the brat out of her while me and art watched - should have fucked me in front of her and made her lick your cum out of my pussy, fuck. I wanna see you fuck her - I wanna see how that tight little pussy takes this big cock - you're not gonna listen to her are you? she doesn't mean it. she wants you to touch her, she wants you to force yourself into her disobedient cunt and show her who her daddy is. she doesn't control you. daddy fucks who he wants. she needs to be punished - she needs - fuck - she needs to be broken in more - you should let me do it - let mommy have a go at her - let me play with your little girls pussy - let art have her too. we'll show her. we'll make her good again for her daddy -”

dark promises whispered and pressed against patricks ear until he came inside her with a roar. imagining you under him, with all of them there, watching him force his load deep inside you.

in your room, you lay on the hotel bed and wondered what the future would hold. for the first time, you were nervous about it.

[luveline]

HIIIIII! I’m so obsessed with you and this series but If it fits into the storyline maybe could we get something where princess hasn’t been seen or heard from all day and the whole castle is gossiping that she ran away and Prince Steve hasn’t been able to pull away from his duties to find her but he eventually does. Kinda vague but I know if you do this you’ll write it better than I could ever explain it lol 💖💖

thank you so much! ♡ prince steve au fem, 1.3k

Steve is in his politics class when he hears the first whisper. There are many awful things that come with being the future inheritor of an entire kingdom, and the very worst in his opinion is having to know the politics of the surrounding kingdoms, cities, islands, island kingdoms and their cities. It's exhausting.  

And what cruel torture is this? His mother and father insist he needs to find his soulmate before he turns twenty four, but when he does find you he's not actually allowed to spend time with you. You're locked away like a sick fairytale and Steve spends hours at a time wondering what you're doing, what you're thinking, if you've been eating properly. He went from knowing nothing about you to not enough. 

Your name is like a lime spotlight. He hears it and he perks up, a trained dog, looking out of the corner of his eye at two service maids changing the eucalyptus sconces. 

"I heard she tried to leave a few days ago and got caught. If I were Y/N I'd never walk again, let alone run away. I'd have someone bring me a pot to piss in–" 

"Shush!" the second maid laughs. "What if someone heard us?" 

They're lucky the others in the room are distracted, less lucky that Steve is a moth to your flame. 

"Wherever she is, I hope she doesn't come back. Prince Steven doesn't flirt with us anymore, it's depressing. Do you think my tabard makes me look fat?" 

Wherever she is? Where are you? 

Steve starts to stand and gets forcibly sat back down by his tutor. "Don't make me hit you with the stick, Steven," he says, his teasing lost to a permanent monotone drawl. 

It continues more of the same but in different places. He hears possible locations at fencing practice, motives between sickening spoonfuls of pot pie and biscuits he can't stomach. Guardsmen talk of you in alcoves and the seamstresses whisper it between pins held in their lips, until finally Steve's had enough. 

"What use is fitting me for my suit if the bride's run away?" he asks, pulling pins from his thighs. "This is ridiculous. I'm done." 

He scrambles into his clothes and shoes. He's buttoning his shirt in the middle of a wide hallway when Robin appears. "Public indecency, nice." 

"This is my house." 

"No need to brag." She offers her hands to take his jacket so he can button faster. "You know your princess is missing, right?"

"Where have you been all day?" he asks. 

"Where do you think? I've been looking for her. Safe to say she's not in the Palace. Where did you say she lived before this?" 

"I… don't know." 

"Useless. We've no hopes of retrieving her then, unless you want to put out a mandate for her return." 

"Stop talking like that," Steve says, scrubbing his jaw tiredly. "I know where she is, I think. You can't come with me." 

"Why?" 

"It's a secret." 

"You can't leave the Palace without me. Do you know how close I was to getting fired last week?" 

You and Steve snuck out before dawn to explore the city together, and to finally get to know one another for a chunk of time. It wasn't enough, but it was a good start. Steve told you a few secrets, and it's about to come in handy.

"Good thing it's not outside of the Palace, then," he says, grinning at Robin mischievously as he takes his jacket from her, turning to walk backwards and steadily away. "Stay here."

"I'll find your dumb hiding place!" she calls after him. 

Steve shrugs into his jacket and descends the stairs. It took him years of being constantly watched to evade the eye, and if you've successfully secluded yourself where he thinks, you're a natural royal. Steve slips down another set of marble stairs, through a hallway, into one of the many intricate drawing rooms, to finally slip unseen behind an ornate oil portrait of his great great great grandma. 

He finds you sleeping in his den. The walls are tacked with teenage dreams, the floor littered with books he had good intentions of reading. You're curled on your side on the cot, the rinds of blood oranges at your chest and your lips stained mildly red from eating them. There's barely any light in this secret room; Steve can't stay here long without getting claustrophobic, but he needs to come here sometimes or he ends up feeling a different kind of trapped. 

He turns the latch of the oil lamp and lights a match. When he touches the red head of it to the lamp's dish, blue, green, and hyacinth-purple light sprays the walls and your snoozing face. Cutout stars remain, the shade of your skin left alone. 

He resists the urge to wake you with the tip of his thumb pressed to one such star, instead kneeling by the cot to shake your arm. "Hey," he murmurs, "you okay?" 

You blink. Sleep crusts your left eye and your lips are chapped, the whites of your eyes a sore red as you meet his. It's funny, nobody looks pretty waking up, but Steve thinks you've just about managed it.

He gives into what he wants, his hand riding the gentle curve of your arm. 

"What's wrong?" he asks quietly. 

You stare at him like he's not what you were expecting. 

"You okay?" he asks again, rubbing the crook of your elbow in search of an answer.

"'M fine," you say, barely audible through hoarseness. 

You sit up and wipe your eyes. Steve reluctantly takes his hand back, not wanting to overdo anything. It's the strangest feeling in the world to know someone will love you one day but they don't know you yet. Stranger still to know you're all alone here, and if Steve doesn't advocate for you, there aren't many who will. 

He's happy to do it. 

"Did someone say something to you?" he asks gently. 

He wouldn't speak to you like this if you didn't respond, your posture slouching forward, relaxing from that tense rigidity you hold whenever you first see him. 

"No one said anything to me, Steve. Your– my lady's maids wouldn't leave me alone. I'm not used to, uh, having my entire day planned for me." You collect your orange rinds into your palm. "It feels childish now, but I needed to be by myself. Do you know what I mean?" 

"I've been doing what other people tell me for years." He takes the orange rinds from your hands. There's nowhere to put them, so he keeps them. He didn't want you to get your fingers sticky with pith. "And it drives me crazy. That's why I told you about this place." 

You make a face like your breath is caught. He sees it everyday. He's starting to worry you're too easily panicked. 

"Have you eaten anything else today? We should go."

"Will they make me do all the things I should've been doing?" you ask. 

"It's evening. We'll have dinner on the terrace, your lady's maids won't come up to you while we're together." He seals his promise with a quick kiss to your knuckles. Your soul mark glows palest pink. "You're sure it's nothing else?" 

You, hesitant as a dormouse, trail the side of your pinky finger against his wrist where it rests on the cot. Purple‐blue light like iris petals paint your skin. "This is all really crazy," you whisper. 

"I know," he says back, voice dropped to a murmur to match you. He can't offer you a better response —this will always be crazy. 

You nod slowly for a moment, visibly thinking. "What do you want for dinner tonight?" you ask. 

"I want what you want." 

"Maybe I want what you want, Steve." 

You make his name sound like an inside joke. He tucks the glow of his soul mark out of view as it burns a rosy hue. 

[bun-z-bakery]

If you’re still taking requests, would you consider writing reader taking care of a sick dogday (and maybe him being difficult abt it?) plz? If not sorry to bother&have a nice day!

Yep! Currently I'm still taking requests! :3 I hope you enjoy!

Cold And Comfort

Dogday has been acting odd and it's gotten to the point where he has distanced himself from everyone, including you.

Naturally, you begin to wonder if you did something that hurt him and he felt the need to distance himself. 

3 days of this was enough and you decided a confrontation was needed. 

“Sunshine?”

You softly call out to him from behind the door. 

It's quiet, only the faint sound of breathing is heard. 

You slowly open the door, closing it behind you as you look around for your giant companion. 

It didn't take long to spot him wrapped in a pile of blankets, he even covered the window blocking the sun rays that he loved to feel on his fur. 

Carefully you make your way to him and gently shake him. 

“Dogday?”

You whisper to him as you take a seat beside him. 

Slowly he begins to wake up, you know from experience that Dogday is the type to enjoy sleeping in and will even sometimes pull you into a nap even if you have work around the house to finish. 

“Angel?”

He moves under the blankets and then slightly uncovers his face. 

He uses an arm to cover his eyes from the sun's rays. 

His voice sounded strained, similar to how it was in the factory. 

“We're worried about you, is so–”

He cuts you off with a series of sneezes, at first you thought it might have been the dust. 

The room was used as extra storage after all. 

But then you remember how he felt when you touched him. 

He was …scorching? 

“Are you ok?”

You try to keep calm as you feel around his face, but he can already sense your rising panic. 

You weren't familiar with toy anatomy, but this certainly wasn't something anyone warned you about. 

Surely he couldn't be sick, right?

Dogday takes a deep breath, you can hear a slight wheezing coming from his chest. That was all you needed to confirm your suspicion. He was in fact sick. 

“I feel terrible, I apologize for scaring you, my Angel.”

He covers himself again as he lets out a painful cough that makes you cringe. 

Seeing him in such a state made you upset. 

You try to think of all the reasons why he could've gotten sick. Allergies? 

“I don't understand how this could've happened.”

Maybe you were in contact with someone who was sick and you gave it to him. 

Does that mean there's a chance Poppy and Kissy are sick too? 

Whatever the case may be, he couldn't stay here. 

“Come on, let's get you out of here this dust isn't helping you!”

You exclaim as you try to pry him out of his blanket cocoon, but he refuses to move. 

“Angel, please don't fuss over me. I can assure you I'll be–”

He coughs before he can finish and you quickly remove the blankets. He begins to shiver once he's fully exposed to the air. 

“Dogday.”

You hold out your hand and he takes it, he's careful not to pull you down with his weight. 

Poor thing was shivering like a wet dog, but it had to be done. Aside from baths, he's never this difficult. 

You couldn't help but wonder why the sudden change. 

It took a bit of convincing, but you managed to get him back to your room and tucked him back into his blanket cocoon. 

“I'm not letting you move an inch.”

“Angel, don't worry about me…”

He attempts to plead with you again but unfortunately for him, you don't give up that easily. 

He was going to get better and you weren't going to let him suffer when you could help him recover faster. 

You gently scratch his ear, it doesn't take long for your gentle touches to put him to sleep. 

Quietly you make your way downstairs to make him a pot of soup. 

If he was able to get sick like a human, surely human remedies would work too right? 

Once you're finished you make your way back to your room with a bowl large enough to hopefully satiate someone as large as him. 

You thank Kissy Missy for opening the door and she gently closes it behind. 

Dogday must've been exhausted if he didn't hear you enter the room. 

You set the bowl on the nightstand and gently shake him once again in an attempt to wake him. 

“Sunshine!~"

You whisper to him and instantly his eyes greet yours. 

He begins to sniff the air before his eyes land on the bowl next to him. 

“Angel please, you didn't have to trouble yourself cooking for me…”

He said softly as he turned his gaze back to you. 

You sigh as you take a seat on the bed and turn to face him. 

“It was no trouble, you're no trouble! But you know what would be?”

He tilts his head to the side. 

“What?”

“No one eating the pot of soup I made.”

You jokingly pout. 

Dogday gives in and finally allows you to take care of him. 

Secretly he does feel guilty every time you need to cook different meals and buy extra medicine when the regular doses aren't effective. 

But he's glad it was his Angel who was by his side. 

Just like you had thought he did get better faster under your care. 

Soon enough he was back to his old self. 

‧₊ ๑˚.・

You lay in bed reading a chapter of a book as you unwind for the night. 

Suddenly you feel something heavy as your lower half sinks into the bed. 

“Hey.”

You chuckle as you hold the book to the side. Dogday lay sideways on the bed, he didn't fit in the bed laying sideways but he was in a good mood. His tail was always a dead giveaway. 

“I don't deserve you angel.”

He says in almost a whisper. 

His voice sounded much healthier than I did a few days ago, you've never been happier to hear his barks and howls again. 

“Is that why you were giving me a challenge?”

It saddens you to know how he felt but with his situation, you could see where he was coming from. 

“You've done more than enough for all of us. I don't want you to deal with more than you already are...”

“Well, your angel seems to think differently.”

You give him a reassuring smile and pet his head. 

“I think you deserve this and much more. Now please get some rest.”

You giggle at the last part as you playfully poke his cheek. 

“I've been resting all week!”

He laughed as he straightened himself to lay next to you.

“Hey, Angel?”

He turns his head to you. 

“Yes, Sunshine?”

You replied as you turned your head to face him as well. 

“Would you mind making that soup again for me?”

You quietly chuckle and put your book down for the night. 

“Sleep and I'll make all the soup you want until you're sick of it!”

You both laugh and Dogday quickly rolls over, hogging the blanket all to himself. 

You put your book on your nightstand preparing to say your goodnights but Dogday beat you to it. 

“Goodnight Angel!”

You playfully snicker as you try to stop his tail from hitting you. You couldn't help but smile at how the little things you do bring him the greatest joy. 

“Goodnight Sunshine.”

[unluckiestmember]

Makima x Innocent! Reader

Characters: Makima, Kishibe (Mentioned)

Tags: Fluff, Developing/Established Relationship, Soft! Makima, dogs, worrying, Kishibe being Kishibe, denial of feelings and misunderstandings.

Warnings: Spoiler Warning for the International Assassins Arc and the Gun Devil Arc. SFW.

A/N: Soft Makima = Best Makima?

SFW

Makima is a controller. For her it is either her way or no way. And if you dare to defy her, she will be the last thing you ever see. 

She treats everyone like they are her dogs, toys and pawns in a larger game to win…

But not you. No, she treats you like an angel.

After missions and days at work, she will take you out to relax. No ifs ands or buts.

Gives you the best massages.

Isn't a fan of PDA. But if she feels threatened, she will grab you and show everyone who you belong to.

She won't force anything onto you unless important. She knows how timid you can be when making decisions.

She has no problem explaining to you her missions and tactics, though she will sugar coat some moments for your "safety".

Her dogs love you. They literally run in your direction when you go to Makima's home and just jump on you.

Yes, Makima is a little jealous of it.

Watches any movie you want to watch, good or bad.

If it's a horror movie, she'll hold your hand the entire time. And if there's a jumpscare, she'll hold you when you jump.

Loves when you get easily flustered but wont show it.

She'll literally stare at you with a small smile and quietly be in delight at your timid state.

Will ask about your day, which is something she doesn't do for ANYONE.

If you want a sleepover, Makima will do the whole nine yards. Endless snacks, a batch of good movies, bad movies and a bunch of blankets.

She only has ONE rule; Don't speak of what you two do outside of work to coworkers. You're her little secret. No one can have you but her. Not to mention she has a reputation to keep.

Will ask Kishibe, yes, Kishibe of all people, advice on how to care more and be better for you.

Will also ask how to tread lightly around you as to not scare you away. But will never admit it or say it out loud.

Say her eyes are beautiful or pretty. She'll melt just laugh and call you cute. Maybe even kiss you on the cheek.

In-Story (Spoilers Ahead)

When Makima fell for you, she thought she was sick.

So sick that she took a few days off of work to wonder what was happening to her.

She asked her higher ups and even Kishibe what was wrong in subtle ways.

They all concluded; she wasn't sick. She was in love.

But she didn't want to be. No, she wanted to just focus on Chainsaw Man and Denji! You were ruining her plans! You had to go.

So why couldn't she kill you?

She just couldn't kill you…

Though she continued to think her attraction to you was unnatural, she soon asked you out.

Say yes. Makima doesn't show it, but she wants you to accept her confession.

Though your relationship is not displayed around your co-workers, they know something is going on between you two.

They all think the same thing; "Good for her." "I'm happy for them." "She's dating someone? I thought she was just a scary emotionless woman!" "Lucky!"

Makima doesn't worry about anything.

So she's surprised she worries about you so much.

After your encounter with the Darkness Devil in hell, Makima was her usual quiet and mysterious self.

But Kishibe informs you she was worried sick when she found you.

And don't even get him started on how she was during the return of the Gun Devil.

She tries her best not to tell you her true motives with Denji, but if you give her puppy eyes she'll spill.

Please support her. The last thing she wants to do is kill her precious angel.

When you noticed her being extra friendly to Denji and Aki, your cute little head started to worry she would leave you for them.

She'll assure you in a sweet whisper that she only belongs to you.

Be on the look out for a jealous Denji...

"I'll admit. My motives will be seen as evil. But it is a necessary evil. I hope you understand... You have to understand. I know I can accomplish my mission, but it might be near impossible without you... Oh, I wasn't saying I-... Haha. Yes. I love you too."

Makima is a devil. A control devil. And could destroy the whole world.

But maybe. Just maybe. She'd sacrifice it all if it was for you…

Chainsaw Man requests are currently open! :D

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, be safe and have a good day! <3

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

hello! This is my first time actually requesting anything so please bear with me ;-;

I would like to request a 5th lord! Reader x Donna, reader is also pretty shy and reclusive, spending most of her time hunting with her mutated hounds or quietly managing her villagers' troubles, but can be assertive and outspoken if needed, even standing up to mother Miranda if she feels she's being unfair with the others, though she'd much rather chill with her dogs or do paperwork and let others do the talking.

Reader and Donna are both on good terms with both of them managing to work up the courage to go hang out at the other's manors from time to time. It doesn't take long for their "good terms" to start evolving into something more romantic but both of them are dancing around confessing their feelings, scared that doing so might destroy the friendship they've worked so hard to built...

It takes a little encouragement from Alcina (and maybe a little teasing about how she "can stare mother Miranda down but now look Donna in the eye") but Reader manages to get over her fear and confess, much to Donna's relief and joy.

Yesss!!!!! This is your 1st time requesting? Welcome then :D!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

The fifth one

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! 5th Lord (more or less)! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word count: 7,943

Summary: You're the fifth, but don't want to, you just want to love her...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

You rolled your eyes at the commotion that was beginning to form in the old cathedral.

“Please, that chandelier over there is much more elegant than you,” one of the attendees at that meeting muttered, Alcina Dimitrescu who, was arguing with her brother, Karl Heisenberg.

“How unoriginal,” her brother said, with a cocky smile that slowly turned to you.

You shook your head, crossing your arms and looking away.

“Your presence clouds my ideas...” Alcina said, with a mocking smile.

“Relax, that's altitude sickness,” he said, arching his eyebrows.

“Who's next? Come on, come on, round of insults!” the sinister Angie doll shrieked, making you cover your ears.

“Oh, Gods…” the priestess who had won the favor of the Black Gods, Mother Miranda, murmured. “Silence!”

“He started it”

“She started it”

Both Lords protested in a childish manner, giving each other glances that, you were sure, had formed a barrier that, if you crossed it, you would burn without remedy.

“Well, now that you've finally shut your mouths, we can begin,” Miranda said, turning her head towards you, probably watching to make sure you were paying attention.

You were always the focus of her gaze, probably because that evil raven woman still didn't trust you.

Every time you attended, a sermon, or had to meet with the others for any boring matter, you wondered why you were there. Those people were descendants of the founders of the village, they were blessed by the Black Gods, you were not. You were quite different.

You were born without noble blood, without a great mansion or power.

Always introverted but with a tremendous desire to explore, you spent your childhood being not much more than the butcher, the blacksmith or the family of weavers. Your family, humble but well-off, was in charge of supplying the villagers with firewood or coal, raw materials that were still needed in that place.

It was an important job, but not a relevant one.

You were orphaned at an early age, left completely alone in that sinister house in the mountains. Loneliness was not a problem for you. You were never exactly a talkative or communicative girl.

But that introverted character clashed with your adventurous spirit, with the desire to know more about that strange cult, to know why the Black Gods only existed in that place.

That daring to find out the different reasons that led Mother Miranda to name herself a priestess seemed worth discovering.

In one of your explorations you got too brave. You watched the witch work in the laboratory, you tried to read the labels of those strange bottles.

You fell in front of the blonde with a resounding sound. You already thought that your life had come to an end. But apparently, Mother Miranda didn't see a sudden interest in ending the life of that stupid snooper, rather she saw you as a unique opportunity to continue investigating.

She didn't care about your screams or your struggles, she took what she wanted, experimenting on you, putting into your body what she herself said it was: the gift of the Gods.

Miranda was probably even more surprised when, after a time that you were still unable to determine, you opened your eyes.

You, who already believed that you would die, resurrected on that dirty stretcher to the surprise and pleasure of the golden witch.

You were still you, but somehow, you were no longer the same. The smells, the sounds... Everything entered your body in an almost overwhelming way. It was as if you had suddenly woken up, as if something had made your senses sharpen.

Of course, you were glad to still be alive, but you were scared.

Your weak body became a weapon. Your strength was no longer that of a simple villager. You had been reborn with the gift of the superhuman and you couldn’t complain.

You were a partial success, one of the few who survived the graft, a miracle. Your strength, your senses, everything had improved substantially but... The strangest thing of all was when you discovered what exactly you could do.

The lycans, those unfortunate villagers who weren't as lucky as you were, came after you in the middle of Miranda's tests. You were never a fighter, of course, even with your new strength, you were scared.

But the miracle happened again.

Apparently, Miranda noticed something that you didn't. Those drooling beasts didn't attack you, they didn't bother wasting time tearing your skin or devouring you. To them you were like something untouchable. You thought it was because of the parasite but once again Miranda told you it wasn't.

Complete control over the village beasts, that was your true new ability. A very useful ability, indeed, at least for that horrible woman.

Miranda's confidence was even more fleeting and cloudy than the Black Gods themselves. Her amazement also hid some fear. You were certainly strong. You could make all the monsters destroy the village with a snap of your fingers.

According to the witch, your status as an ordinary villager placed you in a strange limbo. Neither a Lord, nor a villager, simply, (Y/N). Power was something you didn’t want, but you couldn’t longer avoid it.

You became something like the fifth Lord. The meetings, the sermons... Everything required your presence as well as that of the rest of the noble families. So… Well, Lord or not, you were part of it.

You didn't have a coat of arms, you didn't have a noble background, but you sat next to them. The only thing that relieved you was that those monsters weren't your new siblings. That was the only difference between them and you, for everything else, to the villagers, the number five was always present when they saw you.

Hunting, doing paperwork, answering calls and requests from the villagers… That was your routine. Yes, you preferred solitude, the comfort of your cozy cabin in the woods but… Well, you couldn't complain, it wasn't that bad.

Luck or caution, those two words sailed through your thoughts from time to time. You wondered if Miranda granted you those privileges just because you survived or, on the contrary, she preferred to have you on her side instead of having you against her.

In the meetings, together with the rest of the Lords, you thought about it, you thought about how strong Miranda would be if you and all her children rebelled against her. If you don't feed a beast, it ends up devouring you.

“The Petrescu family have decided not to make the monthly offering to the Gods, let's see, come on, ideas...” Miranda said, moving her arms.

“If I remember correctly, they have a daughter, right?” Alcina intervened, immediately returning you to that boring meeting.

“Mm, it seems so,” Miranda commented, listlessly, nodding towards the lady of the castle.

“She will serve in my castle as payment,” the lady in white said.

It gave you a shiver.

“Oh, sure, of course,” Karl said, interrupting his sister, as always. “I'm sure she's dying to serve you.”

“Their eldest son is strong, he'll be a good experiment,” the deformed Moreau commented.

“No, no way,” you intervened, shaking your head. “I'm the one who has to take care of your experiments.”

“You should have a nursery!” the doll Angie said, laughing sinisterly.

You smiled and nodded, arching your eyebrows.

“Yes, good idea,” you said amused.

“Not again…” Miranda sighed, running her hand over her mask, with a threatening tone.

Well, you couldn't blame her for being fed up with these meetings, you were too.

“Let's see, what punishment do they deserve? One by one,” the witch hissed through her teeth, thus avoiding another uproar. “Let's see, (Y/N), let's start with you.”

“Mm,” you murmured thoughtfully. “I don't think they deserve punishment, Mother Miranda,” you said after a few seconds of meditation, causing all those sinister gazes to turn towards you.

“No?” the witch asked, in a low tone.

“No,” you said firmly. “The Petrescu family has had plagues in their crops and that's why they haven't been able to make the offering to the Gods.”

“But it is my will, (Y/N),” the priestess protested, getting a little closer to you. You didn't feel intimidated, not in the least.

“Yes, and it is also our duty to take care of the villagers but someone…” you explained, pointing timidly at Heisenberg. “Someone preferred to steal the entire shipment of special insecticide, so they were unable to control the plague.”

“Oh, are you implying that it was me?” the Lord asked, pointing at himself. “How bold.”

“I'm not implying anything, Karl,” you said amused.

“Well, there are some very large flies in the castle, I needed that shipment,” he murmured amused, making the lady in white growl.

“Stupid bastard,” Dimitrescu growled, clenching her fists.

“Silence… Silence…” Miranda hissed, visibly tired. “Then, (Y/N), according to you I should forgive them for their lack of faith.”

“Well,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “Punishing them for something we have not been able to remedy would be unfair.”

“You say I am unfair then,” the witch murmured, with a dangerous tone.

“In this case yes, you are, Mother Miranda,” you said without any fear.

Miranda stepped back, laughing sinisterly.

“Okay… I will forgive them,” she said, but lowering her tone as she looked at you again. “For now… Go away, the meeting is over.”

You all stood up silently and you sighed in relief, you could finally go home.

“Hey, you, newbie,” Karl said, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You have guts, huh? No one faces the witch without paying for it.”

“I believe in justice,” you murmured, feeling the cold of your skin as you left the cathedral. The Lord laughed amused, patting your back unpleasantly.

“How considerate…” he whispered. “Hey, come to my factory, there are some beers waiting for you.”

“Bah, not today, I have work to do,” you said, shaking your head.

Saying goodbye to your companions, you walked towards the last of them, towards the lady in black, who seemed to be waiting for you too. After all, her old estate was on the way to your cabin.

Lady Beneviento was a mysterious woman. Always silent, covered by that black veil… She was certainly the most interesting of the Lords.

Donna Beneviento was something like a silent friend. Everyone in the village feared her, but not you. Sick, psychopathic, deformed… You had heard so many things about this woman that you weren't sure if you believed them. In any case, she never showed any of that, in fact, you could say that in your silence there was something like a shy friendship.

You weren't a woman of many words. You enjoyed solitude just like she did. Maybe that's why you got along well.

Silence was the best of conversations, those discreet glances into your eyes, that shy laugh when you played with Angie to chain words together. Yes, you felt very comfortable with her, maybe too much.

But, even though you were shy, lately you tried to get some words out of that black veil, you were quite determined to hear her hoarse voice and not the usual squeals of the doll.

“So… How are your dolls?” you asked, walking slowly, making the lady turn around startled. It wasn’t common for you to break the silence without Angie around.

“Fine,” Donna whispered, with that hoarse voice, raspy from lack of use. Her voice was like a breeze, like a current of air that you couldn't see but you could feel.

“Great,” you murmured, lowering your head.

“How are your… Monsters?” she asked after a few awkward seconds in which you thought that talking to her was a bad idea.

“They’re fine,” you said the same way, nodding confidently.

“Monsters!” Angie repeated, breaking the calm of that little walk.

“Yes…” you sighed amused, winking at the doll, who laughed sinisterly. “Hey, Donna, what do you think of the Petrescu thing?” you asked the lady in black, having the strange need to talk.

“Cosa?” she asked, with an even softer voice, slowing down her steps to stand beside you, walking at the same pace as you.

“You know... That whole harvest thing,” you said timidly. “I honestly find it incredible that Miranda blames those poor villagers when she's supposed to be taking care of them.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured with disinterest, looking away. “You're taking too many risks.”

“Why do you say so? I say what I think,” you said, shaking your head.

“That's why you take the risk,” she commented, walking faster, reaching the wooden bridge that separated your world from hers. “Sometimes it's better to not say anything.”

“Oh, of course, that's your strategy, isn't it? I thought you were just a quiet woman,” you said amused, leaning on some rocks.

A soft laugh came from the lady in black, who also stopped.

“I am,” she whispered, moving the impatient Angie in her arms.

“I see…” you murmured, looking away embarrassedly. “I don’t know, maybe I’m too stupid.”

“Stupid for having a sense of justice?” she asked in a slightly clearer voice.

You shrugged exaggeratedly, spreading your arms.

“Maybe…” you sighed, looking at the cloudy sky. “Well, I guess we’ll see each other.”

“Yes, we’ll see each other,” the lady said passively, sighing uncomfortably.

“See you later,” you said, waving goodbye and jumping towards the mountain, a very big one.

“See you later, silly!” Angie shrieked, waving her arms in farewell, something you already saw from the top of the mountain.

“Hey, Angie, remember that you owe me 500 lei!” you shouted amused.

“That's a lie!” the doll protested. “Liar!”

“Next time try not to lose! You know that I am unbeatable in chess!” you said amused, earning a sinister laugh from the puppet, who said goodbye to you while the lady resumed her path.

You walked a little further through the forest until you reached your cabin, where some anxious barking alerted you.

“Oh, wait!” you shouted as your two favorite beasts launched themselves at you, covering you with licks. “Hey, okay, yeah, I missed you, guys!” you shouted amused, pushing the mutated dogs away from you. “Come on, it's time to eat.”

Routine fell upon you after that little interruption. Certainly, meetings weren't your favorite pastime, but after doing the same thing day after day, they were a relief.

Paperwork, calls from villagers begging you for some firewood, the occasional business with the Duke... It was all boring, but at the same time reassuring. Hunting with your dogs was the most fun thing you did, but even that became a tedious routine.

But, for some time now, a new hobby forced you to leave the safety of your cabin and look over the cliff.

Just below that great height, the Beneviento House stood, that strange place sheltered by a waterfall. At first you didn't give importance to the closeness you had with the lady in black, but... Little by little, that friendship grew, forcing you to keep an eye on her without wanting to.

Donna was like you, she didn't usually leave her house but, when she did, your heart started to beat strongly. A strange but interesting woman, that's what she was to you, apart from being a friend in a world of shadows. At least you liked to think that way.

Surely for her you were just a companion.

Lying in the snow, one that had long since stopped being cold for you, you observed the mansion, wondering what that woman was doing at that moment, if she would go out to take care of her flowers or it would be another boring day in which you couldn't see her.

“Mm,” you murmured, getting up, disappointed. “Today is not the day to go out, huh?” you said amused.

The sound of nearby axe blows brought you out of the comfort of your solitude, of your routine. The lycans always did the hard work, always cut down the trees to give you that precious firewood. Yes, you could truly feel privileged although those beasts... They weren't exactly intelligent.

“Hey!” you shouted, walking quickly towards that group of lycans who were cutting down one of the nearby trees. “I thought I told you to go to the western forest.”

The grunts were their response while they shrugged their shoulders comically.

“West, do you hear me?” you repeated indignantly, stamping the ground. “Oh, damn it. Give me that,” you said while taking the axe from one of them. “Go over there, and get a bigger axe.”

Taking another of your tools and giving it to the lycan, you order them to leave, something they obeyed, luckily.

“Great…” you muttered annoyed, running a hand through that half-felled tree. “Stupid lycans…”

Shaking your head, you put the axe on your shoulder, ready to return to the comfort of paperwork or the fun of hunting, you were still not sure. A strange creaking sound stopped your steps and you turned around trembling.

That tree seemed to lean dangerously, which made you open your eyes in fear.

“Oh, no, no, no, no…” you lamented, running towards it as fast as you could. You didn't get there in time.

The tree split and the larger half fell down the cliff. You could only touch it with your fingers before it disappeared into the abyss with a thunderous sound of breaking glass.

“Shit…” you sighed, closing your eyes tightly. That definitely hadn't sounded good at all.

Slowly, clearing your throat, you looked over the cliff. If that tree had fallen into the river it would have been a relief, but it didn't.

Below the slope, that tree rested on the roof of the Beneviento mansion, with its top stuck in one of the windows.

“Okay… Damn it,” you said through your teeth, running a hand over your forehead. “Damn it…”

“Hey!” a sharp scream made you look down again.

Donna and Angie had come out of the house, surely alerted by the noise. You tried to hide from them, but you weren't fast enough.

“Hey, you, I saw you!” the doll snapped at you, forcing you to look out again. “What do you think you're doing?! Do you want to kill us!?”

“Oh, um… I'm sorry!” you cried out embarrassed, biting your lip. Both lady and doll looked at you intensely.

“You're sorry?! Get down here and face me!” Angie demanded.

You had no choice but to obey, taking a big leap to go down to the grounds of the mansion. You landed next to Donna, looking at her briefly and then observing the mess the tree had caused.

“H-Hi…” you sighed nervously, with a shy smile. “Um, I can, I can explain it.”

“There's a tree going through the attic of my house, what do you have to explain?” the lady in black asked, with that usual hoarse tone.

You laughed amused by what you thought was a joke and scratched the back of your neck, looking at the tree and shaking your head.

“It was an accident,” ​​you said with a shaky voice. “It, it wasn't my fault.”

Angie and Donna looked at each other and, after a few seconds, lowered their heads towards the axe you were still holding, looking back at you shortly after.

“Oh, no, it's not what it seems,” you said nervously, hiding the tool behind your back.

“We caught you with the weapon, silly, anything to say in your defense?” Angie said, crossing her arms, held by her owner.

“Okay, I'm, I'm sorry,” you said, with your best good girl face. “It wasn't me, the lycans are getting stupider every day and they started cutting down a tree they shouldn't have and…” you stammered.

“Your apologies aren't going to solve the problem,” Donna whispered, lowering the doll to the ground.

“Yeah, I know but…” you said nervously, avoiding looking at the mess. “Don't worry, I'll call, I'll call the lycans to get it out of there. In the meantime, as compensation… I don't know, maybe, maybe you'd like to have some tea at my place.”

“Is that compensation?” the puppet mocked, shaking her head. “No, silly, we want a million lei.”

“What? A million?” you asked, mouth agape.

“Don't pay attention to her,” Donna murmured, walking away from you. “The tea will be enough.”

“Oh, okay…” you said blinking in confusion. You didn't think it was going to be that easy.

“What are you saying, silly Donna? Have you become…?” Angie said, tugging at her owner's dress. The lady looked at her firmly, making her shut up immediately.

Intimidation or control? You weren't sure.

The walk to your cabin was tense. After you called the lycans and they went up to the roof, you started to think about why you had offered the lady in black some tea. She certainly didn't seem displeased with the offer, but you found that something so stupid was enough for Donna strange. After all, you had impaled her house on a tree.

The lady in black gasped as your dogs roared at her presence. You couldn't be surprised by it. It was very strange to have visitors.

“Relax, they're harmless,” you said with a nervous smile, opening the door to your cabin. “That's Pinky, and that's Winky”

“Pinky and Winky? What kind of stupid names are those?”  the doll said, watching the animals with curiosity. They calmed down due to your caresses.

“Well, the ones I gave them,” you said proudly, stroking the head of one of them, causing it to lick your hand.

“Can I play with them?” the Angie doll asked, approaching cautiously. “Can I, Donna, can I?”

“I don't know,” the lady in black whispered, looking suspiciously at the hounds. “(Y/N), they won't hurt Angie, right?”

“No, I don't think so,” you said unsurely, watching the doll's timid interactions with the animals. “She'll be fine.”

“Aren't you going to invite me in?” the lady asked after a few silent moments watching Angie, who had already mounted one of the beasts.

“Oh, sure, come in,” you said, coming out of that daydream.

Donna entered slowly, observing every detail of your small but luxurious cabin.

“Mm,” she murmured, sitting on one of your sofas in a disinterested manner.

“It's not much but well, it's a home,” you commented, confused by the attitude of the woman in black, the passive and timid attitude as always. “Black tea?”

She nodded slightly and you did the same, nervously preparing the tea. Silence was once again your only companion. You couldn't say you were scared, but you were somewhat intimidated by her presence. You knew what she was capable of. You knew she wasn't right in the head. Maybe she had set you up to make you suffer for your mistake.

“Ahem, here you go,” you said nervously, sitting in front of her and showing a jar. “Do you want sugar?”

“No,” she answered dryly, taking the cup and bringing it to her lips, slightly moving her veil aside.

You couldn't help but notice her features, something that made her stop, replacing the black cloth.

“It's rude to stare at someone,” she murmured annoyed.

“I'm sorry,” you said nervously, looking away so she could drink calmly.

“What are you sorry about? About shamelessly staring at me or impaling my house on a tree?” Donna asked in a dark, hoarse tone, with a marked accent.

“Oh, the tree thing and... Well, the other thing too and... I'd better, I'd better keep quiet,” you said, hiding your embarrassment behind your cup of tea.

“Mm,” she murmured again with disinterest, leaving her cup on the table and resting her hands on her lap in an elegant and shy way. Surely she must have been uncomfortable, just like you.

The tension could easily be cut. Silence stopped being your ally and became your worst enemy. To talk or not to talk, that was the question.

Luckily, it was the lady in black who seemed interested in starting a conversation.

“What are you doing here all day?” the doll maker asked, barely moving.

“Nothing special, I don't spend much time in here, to tell the truth,” you said, clearing your throat, relieved by the disappearance of silence. “I don't like being locked up.”

“I see. You are like one of your beasts then,” she commented, tilting her head slightly.

You raised your eyebrows, not quite knowing how to respond to that statement.

“If by that you mean that I like the outdoors...” you murmured amused, with a calm smile.

“No, I say it because of how ugly you are,” she said abruptly, leaving you completely disoriented, speechless.

“Hey...” you protested at that gratuitous and unexpected insult.

“It was a joke,” she said, seeing your incipient annoyance.

You blinked confused, shaking your head and drinking again to relieve the trembling of your body.

“Forgive me, I'm not very good at it,” Donna said in a softer tone, laughing shyly. “I've never known how to joke.”

“A joke, of course,” you said calmer but tense, with your heart beating strongly in your chest. “Relax, I'm not good with people either.”

“It doesn't seem like it,” she said distractedly, shifting uncomfortably on the wooden sofa. “You get along very well with my siblings.”

“You think so? No, not at all, we just tolerate each other,” you explained in a relaxed tone, waving your hand to make light of it. “I usually go out with Heisenberg to have beers from time to time but the truth is that I prefer solitude.”

“Heisenberg,” the lady repeated, with a mysteriously dark tone. “Do you like spending time with him?”

You shrugged, not giving importance to those innocent questions.

“Yes, well, I'm still a human being, or so I think... You know, we're social animals and...” you said, leaning back in the chair, realizing what that question really meant. “Oh, if you mean... No, no, no, no,” you quickly denied. “It's not what you're thinking.”

“What am I thinking?” she asked, with a somewhat more casual tone, letting you sense a smile behind that black veil.

“I don't know, what are you thinking?” you asked back, shy but somehow confident.

“I'm just saying that you get along with my brother, I wasn't implying anything,” Donna said, with a slightly more serious tone, annoyed for some reason.

“Okay…” you sighed confused.

It was the first time you talked for so long with the woman in black and that started to take its toll on you, making you more and more nervous.

“I get along with you too,” you whispered almost without meaning to.

“Oh, really?” she asked with a mocking tone. “What makes you think that way?”

“Well…” you murmured, regretting your words. “At least you talk to me, they say that's a miraculous.”

“What's miraculous? Someone talking to you?” she asked, curious, reaching out her hand again for the cup of tea, indicating that you should look away again.

“No, you talking to someone,” you said in a small voice, lowering your head while the lady put the tea back in its place.

“Mm,” Donna murmured with disinterest, maintaining that tense and defensive pose, not paying attention to your words, or at least, not showing it. “What else are they saying out there?”

“Huh?” you asked confused, startled. “Oh, nothing bad, just, just that...”

“Bugiarda,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Excuse me?” you asked, getting closer in case you had misunderstood her.

“I say you are a liar,” she repeated, clenching her fists discreetly. “I know perfectly well what they say about me.”

“Oh, okay, but, but you asked me…” you stammered, the awkwardness tensing the atmosphere even more.

Lady Beneviento shrugged with a sigh.

“I was just curious, you're a very strange girl,” she whispered curiously, tilting her head again.

“Likewise,” you said laughing, joking unintentionally. You were too clumsy for social relations, you should know it. “I mean…”

A tender laugh came out of the veil again, a sweet laugh that didn't express that previous coldness. Your heart was restless, but your face made things easier for you, making you smile back.

“Sei divertente…” the lady whispered among laughs.

“Thank you, I guess…” you joked, raising your cup of tea in gratitude, drinking the remaining liquid.

“So you and me get along…” Donna said, after a moment of calm.

“Mm?” you asked confused, crossing your arms. You could no longer hide behind the empty cup.

“You said that before, you say that we get along,” the lady repeated, with a more impatient tone, as if she was annoyed at having to repeat things.

“You're at my house drinking tea so... It seems so,” you said amused, arching your eyebrows.

“How curious, I thought we were here because you’ve destroyed my house,” she said, crossing her arms, finally changing that stoic pose.

“Oh yeah, shit…” you sighed embarrassed again remembering the accident from a while ago.

“Don't talk like that, (Y/N), you're a Lord,” Donna reprimanded you with a stern voice.

“Can't a Lord say shit?” you asked amused, relaxing in the armchair.

“You shouldn't,” the lady said with a dry voice, shaking her head.

“Besides, I'm not a Lord,” you said after a few moments.

“No? So what are you?” she asked in a low, hoarse tone, more like her usual one.

“I don't know,” you answered with a slightly nostalgic sigh. You had never seriously considered that question. “(Y/N)”

“(Y/N)…” the doll maker murmured, in a somber tone. “Lady (Y/N)?”

“Just (Y/N)” you repeated, with a knowing smile, accidentally winking.

“Mm,” she murmured, finishing her tea and letting silence fall over your shoulders again.

“I don't think they'll take long,” you said, unable to find a suitable topic of conversation in your mind, one that wouldn't lead to awkward statements or questions from the lady in black.

“Are you nervous?” she asked, looking at the subtle trembling of your hands.

“No,” you said, putting on a serious expression.

“I’m making you nervous,” she said next, stating, not asking.

“No, no, no, no, I mean…” you stammered. “It's not that I'm nervous because I accidentally destroyed your house and I'm afraid you're going to give me nightmares or something like that,” you said, with a tone totally different from the one you wanted to express.

“If I had wanted you dead, you would already be,” Donna hissed in a sinister voice, one that made a shiver run through your body.

“It was, it was a joke,” you said timidly, scratching the back of your neck.

“I see you are not good at joking either,” she said, with a calmer tone, she even seemed to laugh.

“Not at all,” you said with a fearful smile.

“Hey, get away, you disgusting slime!” Angie's squeals alerted you. “Hey!”

You stood up with the lady, walking towards the door, where a group of lycans waited patiently, curious about the doll.

“Donna, Donna!” the puppet shrieked, running into the arms of her owner. “You, tell them to stop harassing me!”

“Hey, you, stay still,” you ordered the beasts, which continued to surround you in a sinister manner.

The lycans growled, but obeyed.

“Are you done?” you asked in a stern tone, crossing your arms. The strongest-looking one nodded in satisfaction. “Great...”

“There’s no more tree?” Angie asked curiously. You moved your head triumphantly.

“Mm, oh, and don’t worry about the window, the village glazier owes me a favor,” you said pleasantly, with an apologetic look. The growls of those beasts were uncomfortable and made you turn to them. “What are you looking at? Go away, go away…”

The pack of beasts scattered, accidentally hitting the lady in black, who fell to the ground with a gasp.

“Oh, shit, Donna…” you said nervously, helping the lady up. “Hey, be more careful! Shit, sorry, sorry…”

The lady groaned, helped by you and Angie, brushing the snow off her dress.

You were speechless. The black veil covering her face had moved enough for you to see her. She was… She was simply a beautiful woman, really beautiful. The deformity of her face was not an impediment for you to be dazzled. Of course she noticed, opening her one eye wide.

“W-Wait…” you sighed, reaching out your hand to the veil and awkwardly placing it. “There you go.”

“You are not scared,” she murmured, finishing to place the black cloth. You shook your head, with a strange smile.

“No, not at all, you are… You have nothing to do with what they say out there,” you commented unintentionally, nervous because of that beautiful face, one that made your heart race. “You are such a beautiful woman. I don't know why you're covering yourself”

Donna didn't answer. She just looked at you strangely, shaking her head.

“You're really bad at jokes, (Y/N)” she whispered in a surprisingly calm tone. “But thanks for trying.”

“I'm telling the truth,” you said, frowning as the lady walked away with a slow step, picking up her doll again. “Hey, Donna!” you shouted, getting her attention. “I liked having tea with you.”

“Of course, you say we get along, right?” she said, laughing shyly, still walking.

It wasn't the last time you two got together.

From the day you destroyed her house, the visits started to become more and more frequent. They were always absurd talks about topics that weren't important. In your house, in hers, the place didn't matter.

Your mind began to unravel why a part of you seemed addicted to looking over the cliff, to see if the lady would leave her house. She was beautiful… Really beautiful, a wounded woman with a tormented soul who was terribly attractive to you. The veil disappeared over time, at every tea, at every visit she was closer and you were closer.

It was hard for you to recognize it but… Soon friendship was no longer enough, soon your lips sighed as you walked away from that house, as you watched her leave yours. You were attracted to her, you liked her, Donna was perfect for you but at the same time she was something impossible to have and you should accept it before falling into the clutches of an unhealthy crush.

“That was the last time I skied with my dogs,” you said one quiet night, one in which the tea went on so long that the stars shone in the sky.

The fireplace in the Beneviento house crackled, giving your body a different, strange warmth. Maybe it was just having Donna next to you, with her legs up on the couch, listening to your stupid adventures for hours.

The lady in black laughed, changing her teacup for a glass of wine, one she slowly brought to her lips as fire glowed in her eye, making you shiver.

“It wasn't a good idea,” she commented amused, leaving the glass on the table. “You could have hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, well, I'm resilient,” you joked, raising and lowering your eyebrows, settling yourself on that sofa.

“You say your life is boring, but it doesn't seem that way to me,” Donna said, looking at you distractedly, lowering her hand dangerously close to yours.

“Most of the time it's boring, I only tell you the best parts,” you said, drinking your glass of wine, briefly looking at your hands.

“Would you have liked not to be a Lord?” she asked, with a sadder look, without looking at you.

“I'm not a Lord,” you said amused, relaxing your smile when you saw her serious face. “But, what do you mean?”

“You know, I'm wondering if you would have preferred a normal, ordinary life,” the doll maker whispered, looking at you again, curious.

You shrugged, finishing your wine.

“I don't know,” you sighed wistfully, looking at the fireplace. “I guess my life would keep being boring.”

“Mm,” she murmured, resting her head on the couch, as if she was waiting for a longer answer.

“Well, let's see, it has its good points,” you said in a more casual tone.

“Like what?” the lady asked.

“To have met you,” you murmured involuntarily, noticing how your cheeks were heating up with blush.

“You... Are you glad you met me?” Donna asked, leaning towards you.

“Yes, Donna, you are a wonderful woman,” you said, faking a friendly smile, lightly hitting her hand, one that grabbed yours without wanting to, putting your heart on alert.

“I, I'm glad I met you too,” she sighed, watching how your hands played on their own, getting to know each other, caressing each other involuntarily. “I... I...”

“Hey, it's too late, fools!” Angie interrupted, just when your bodies began to walk the path that separated them. You stepped back, keeping your gaze on the lady, who did the same, with a serious expression, as if she had regretted her movements.

“Angie…” Donna sighed, also annoyed by the doll's boldness.

You wondered what would have happened if the puppet hadn't appeared, what your lips would have done.

“S-she's right, um… There's a meeting tomorrow and we should rest,” you said nervously, getting up from the couch.

“Yes, I…” she said, nodding but unable to take her eye off yours and nervous just like you. “We, we'll see each other tomorrow.”

“Yes…” you sighed with a weak smile, taking your hands away from each other at the same time. Unintentionally, they had remained together. “Donna, I…”

“Yes?” she asked, perhaps too quickly.

You opened your mouth but couldn't say what you wanted, something prevented you.

“Nothing, um… Have a good night,” you said timidly, moving away from her.

“(Y/N), wait, I have, I have to tell you something,” the lady said, gently grabbing your wrist.

“Yes?” you said the same way, with almost pleading eyes.

She imitated your gesture, opening her mouth and not saying anything. If it weren't in those circumstances it could have been somewhat comical.

“I... T-thank you for, for having dinner with me,” she finally said. “I hope you rest.”

You nodded disappointedly, walking towards the exit.

Cowardice, that was the only word on your mind. You wanted to tell her many things, you wanted to tell the doll maker that you would like to spend more time with her, that every second by her side was wonderful, but you couldn't do it.

Cowardly, yes, but also worried, your head was spinning from that crush that you couldn't deny. Maybe Donna was just excited to have someone after so much time alone, it could be that the lady in black was just a friend, and nothing else.

If so, any advance on your part would be a hammer, a saw, a cutting element that would irreparably break your friendship.

You didn't want that, you didn't want to lose her for confusing your feelings, for misinterpreting hers.

The next day you opened your eyes routinely. You had barely rested, thinking about everything that was happening around Lady Beneviento, everything you lived with her every day. Staying calm and strengthening the friendship was your priority, no matter how many times your heart reminded you of what you really felt for her.

“Welcome, my children...” Miranda said, while you all sat down in your seats and you smiled at the lady in black, who made a gesture to greet you, indicating that you should sit next to her. “(Y/N)...” the priestess murmured, showing that subtle contempt she felt for you, who were not part of her family but were not a villager either.

“Hey there…” you said haughtily, earning a strange look from the lady in black.

The witch smiled sinisterly, moving away from you to begin her usual speech.

These meetings stopped being boring a long time ago.

While Miranda spoke you made mocking gestures so Donna looked at you, rolling your eyes, nodding ironically... Anything that would grant you the perfect gift of her soft laugh under her veil.

“Hey, Donna, how do you say boring in Italian?” you whispered, getting a little closer to her chair. She looked at you, moving Angie so she was comically leaning in your ear.

“Noioso,” Angie whispered, to which you nodded gratefully.

“Mm,” you murmured amused. “I suppose it will be useful for the next meeting.”

Donna shook her head, sighing amused.

“So… Boring witch would be something like... Strega noiosa?” you asked, getting a little closer to the lady's ear.

“Yes, more or less,” the lady whispered, in a tone that only you could hear. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I like to know what I'm looking at,” you said, pointing at Miranda with your head.

Donna laughed nervously, unable to be discreet, attracting the attention of the priestess, who immediately fell silent.

“Donna, I can't believe it,” Miranda sighed, crossing her arms. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing, Mother Miranda,” the lady murmured, holding back her laughter.

You looked away, meeting the eyes of the lady of the castle, who was looking at you with a frown, you didn't know for how long.

“Oh, okay, go away, out...” Miranda said, tired, gesturing with her hand.

Luckily, you were spared that reprimand.

“I'll kill you, (Y/N),” Donna whispered as you walked back home. “I swear I'll kill you.”

“Hey, I didn't do anything,” you joked. “I'm just trying to pass the time.”

“I'm sure you did,” the lady said, walking slowly beside you. “Oh, I'm almost done with the doll you ordered.”

“Wow, that's fast,” you said satisfied, walking slower and slower, enjoying that little moment of company.

“Well, the hounds were difficult to make” she commented, disinterested.

“Oh, shit, I mean, jeez…” you joked, scratching the back of your neck. “Now that you mention it… I should go buy them some meat.”

“Are you coming this afternoon?” the ventriloquist asked, accidentally taking your hand, something that you, of course, didn't prevent. “I'd like… For us to have dinner together, like yesterday.”

“Sure, but I'll cook,” you said amused as your hands slowly separated.

Donna turned around, giving you one last look before disappearing into the forest.

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Ah, fuck!” you screamed when a hand rested on your shoulder. You turned around scared.

Alcina, Lady Dimitrescu, was behind you, with the same expression as at the meeting.

“Well, well…” she murmured in a sensual voice.

“Oh, hello, Alcina, I…” you stammered, still scared. “Do you need something? Have you run out of firewood?”

“No…”she sighed, changing her frown into a sinister smile. “Tell me, (Y/N), what exactly is going on between you and my sister?” she asked, making you blush again.

“What? I don't understand,” you said nervously, looking for an escape route with your gaze. There wasn't one.

“Please, I saw you at the meeting, you looked like two clingy teenagers,” she commented, rolling her eyes. “Come on, confess, what's going on?”

“We are, we are friends,” you said, with a sad smile.

“Donna has a friend…” Alcina sighed, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “Do you realize how stupid it sounds?”

“I don't know why you say that, she's a kind woman and… When, when you meet her it's… It's…”

“I know what she's like, dear,” the lady in white interrupted. “That's why I'm surprised that someone like you got that close to her.”

“We, we get along,” you said, nodding with a serious face, watching the lady in black walk away without looking back, luckily.

“Is that all?” Dimitrescu asked.

Let's see, she was over a hundred years old, she wasn't exactly stupid... It wouldn't be easy to fool her.

“Yes... Unfortunately,” you sighed, looking at the snow under your feet.

“Oh, see? That doesn't seem like a dirty lie anymore,” the lady in white joked. “So? What are you going to do?”

“What? Oh, nothing...” you said with a sad, timid voice, shaking your head. “I guess.”

“Mm...” Alcina murmured, running a huge hand over your shoulders. “It's funny... You, a Lord...”

“I'm not a... Bah, never mind,” you said, interrupting but regretting it later.

“How can it be? You face Mother Miranda and don't have the guts to tell Donna what you feel,” she said, with an inquisitive look.

She knew more about your feelings than you did. Would Donna have talked to her? It seemed unlikely.

“It seems easy, but it isn't,” you protested, crossing your arms.

“I think so, dear…” she sighed, lighting a cigarette. “Take some advice from me, (Y/N)… Tell her.”

“I can't do that, what if she doesn't feel the same?” you said nervously, less and less uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Please…” Alcina murmured, rolling her eyes again. “Stop fooling around and tell her how you feel. Donna doesn't take hints, understand? She needs really big signs to show her the way.”

You nodded, frowning.

“Hey, what do you care?” you asked curiously.

The lady in white shrugged her shoulders with a funnily sinister smile.

“Let's say that… I need some time without the castle phone ringing and disturbing me…”

“What?” you asked curiously. “Did Donna tell something to you?”

“I didn't say that, (Y/N)…” the vampire murmured, turning elegantly, leaving you stuck to the snow, blinking and breathing heavily. “What are you doing standing there? Run…”

You nodded, overcome by euphoria, turning around with a smile. Yes, Donna felt the same, there was no doubt. You didn't know why Alcina helped you, or what things Donna told her about you but… You had to tell her, tell her that your cabin wasn't warm enough if she wasn't with you, that… That you loved her…

You ran with all your might, jumping through the forest with the strength that love, or nerves, gave you.

You reached the clearing where little Claudia was resting and took one last big jump, avoiding the elevator.

As you fell you realized that you had terribly miscalculated and your body was quickly approaching the mansion hopelessly.

“Shit!” you shouted protecting yourself with your arms as you went through the newly repaired attic window, falling thunderously to the ground. “Ouch...”

You shook the glass off your body, checking that your wounds were healing on their own as usual.

“Hey!” Angie's shrieks reached your ears and you, timidly, looked out the broken window with an embarrassed smile.

“Hi...” you sighed timidly, moving your hand in greeting, looking at the lady who was watching you calmly.

“(Y/N)?” Donna asked, shaking her head.

“Silly! What's your problem with that window?” Angie asked as you jumped to the ground in a quick movement, landing in front of the lady.

“I'm sorry, I had to talk to you,” you said nervously as she removed a piece of glass from your dress, one that you couldn't shake off.

“I guess walking isn't your thing, right?” Donna commented, amused, not the slightest bit bothered by your accident.

“No, my favorite hobby is being with you,” you said quickly. She moved away, but not enough for your hands to not be able to reach her face. “D-Donna, I... I...”

Not finding words that could be useful, you decided push that horrible veil away from her face and capture her lips with yours, in a deep, sincere kiss that she immediately returned.

“I'm in love with you,” you whispered still on her lips, kissing her slowly, grabbing her waist as she did the same, smiling in relief.

“Really? Are you serious?” the lady asked, caressing your cheeks. “Me, me too…”

“Yes… I may not want to be a Lord but, but I want to be by your side, to be with you… I, I love you, Donna, I love you…”

“Lord or not, my heart is yours, (Y/N)… Yours forever…”

[secretlovezz]

I was wondering I could request headcanons with König, Soap, Price and Ghost celebrating a birthday with their s/o who thought that they’d forget/didn’t know? If it’s too many characters (😭I know writing is a struggle) maybe it’d be okay with just Ghost?

By the time I’m writing this, my birthday would’ve been tomorrow :]

I hope you have a good afternoon/day/evening/night

I'm so late omg (I'm horrible at getting requests done I'm so sorry!!!!) but here it is!!! I ended up only writing for Soap and Ghost even though the goal was to write for all of 141+konig so maybe there'll be a part 2 with everyone else eventually😭 Happy belated birthday babe and thank you for the request 🫶🫶🫶🫶 ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Simon "Ghost" Riley

I feel like because Simon most likely doesn't celebrate/do things for his birthday he won't do too much for you (this doesn't mean he doesn't care though).

He gets you the cutest presents, ones with meaning and love, ones that'll last for as long as possible.

Although he's nervous Simon is slick about the process of giving you your gift.

He's hiding it behind a cushion while the two of you are casually watching a movie together on the couch.

He hasn't said much to you all day (he is horrible at keeping secrets from you so he's kept his mouth shut so he doesn't spill the fact that he got you something).

You notice his silence just like you notice how Simon is being twitchy next to you, the arm around your neck is flexing and his free hand is wiping against his pants to get rid of sweat.

You don't think you've ever been more anxious and on your birthday no less.

Has he forgotten?

You feel sick to your stomach, nausea overtaking you and making you uncomfortable. Your body wiggles against your boyfriend's side and his eyes drift to you. His brown eyes are searching you intently; his gaze makes you all the more nervous.

He contemplates saying anything before his lips finally part to ask, "You alright, Dove?"

Your head is snapping in his direction before he can even finish his question, eyes wide in a way that make Simon's squint in confusion. He twists his body to face you a little more forcing you to look at him.

"What's wrong," He asks, your eyes are darting to any place that isn't his eyes because if you do he'll see straight through you. Sometimes you hate that he can just tell when you're upset.

When you don't answer him Simon sighs and stretches his arm to reach behind him. Your eyes water and your plump bottom lip quivers in response to his movement but when he pulls his hand back in between the both of you he's holding a little box.

Now your eyes squint in confusion causing a tear or two to fall out. Your boyfriend is quickly dropping the box and reaching to wipe them from your face pressing a swift kiss to your forehead before pulling back.

Before you can ask him anything about the box simon is grabbing your hands putting them together in a cupping motion and dropping the box into your hands. You look at him doe eyed and he motions for you to open it kissing your temple once more. If you weren't a little sad you would have laughed or giggled at the horrible attempt of a bow around the box. You pull at it and it comes loose and falls into your lap. You glance at Simon once more eyes still a little watery and he nuzzles his nose against your cheek.

You open the box slowly a little worried of what you might find inside.

When you open it to see dog tags you choke out a sob.

"It's a replica, not the real thing but still, happy birthday dove," Simon says while swiftly moving your face into the crook of his neck. You move yourself to straddle your boyfriend arms wrapping around his neck. You stop your cries to place a quick kiss on his neck. Your professions of love mumbled into his neck as you hiccup.

"I love you, hm? So much," he says and Simon chuckles when you whine at him.

"So so much," He whispers.

《---------------♡

John "Soap" McTavish

I lowkey feel like there's no possible way for you to feel like he's forgotten.

He's talking your ear off about what you guys are gonna do weeks before.

But imagine he gets called away just days before your birthday, he'd get so sad :(

He wanted to celebrate it properly; take you out to dinner buy you some flowers and a present that you would adore one that could make you smile.

So alas he's away on your big day and he's so busy and has so much work to do he almost doesn't get the chance to call you.

You try to watch a movie, one that you and Johnny would enjoy together if he were home, cuddled up against each other, slipping gentle intimate kisses to one another, laughing and giggling at stupidly cringe movie scenes. His hands would never leave you, they never did.

You miss him.

The thought made your lips quiver and your eyes water. You felt that you usually did okay, good even when Johnny wasn't around but today was your birthday and he wasn't here and it was harder than you thought it would be.

You picked up your phone and turned it on.

No notifications.

You'd hoped he'd at least text you but it was rounding 10:30, it was dark out and the lack of natural light was making you sleepy, but there was still nothing from him.

You're nodding off trying to keep yourself awake but eventually, your eyes are closing and your head is leaning back towards the cushion of the couch. You're snapped out of your closeness to sleep by the ringing of your phone. You scrambled for it moving quickly to answer whoever was calling you.

"Hello?" You answer.

A rumbling chuckle on the other line causes tears to gather at your water line, "were you sleeping, can hear it in your voice," you could imagine the smile gracing his face.

Your voice is shakey and quiet when you respond, "I miss you," you pull your knees to your chest, "I wish you were here."

You hear the ruffles of fabric, you wonder what he's doing.

"Wish I was there too believe me... Jesus, I miss you. Was gonna have flowers sent to you but Cap'n's threw me into somethin' I couldn't get out of and-"

You smile, cheesing into your pajama pants, "You were gonna buy me flowers?"

Johnny scoffs softly, "'course, my pretty girl deserves her flowers always and when I get back I'm gonna get you so many flowers you won't know what to do."

You laugh and he thinks he's never heard a sound more beautiful. He joins your laughter for a moment before the both of you quiet down slowly.

"Happy birthday sweet girl," Johnny whispers, "I love you"

[midgardian-witch]

From the prompt list: “Because every time I see you, all I can think about is kissing you and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.” with Steven Grant please.

Since I already did this prompt with Jake I decided to approach this a little differently. And it turned out much longer than I had planned. I still hope you'll like it, anon 💙

Stupid Sexy Steven

tags: friends to lovers | kissing | cursing | Steven being effortlessly adorable and sexy | gn!reader

ships: Steven Grant/Reader

AO3

Edit: added AO3 link

“Because every time I see you, all I can think about is kissing you and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

You've been avoiding Steven. It's not the bravest thing to do and you're not exactly proud of it but you don't know what else to do. 

You need the space to figure out how to deal with your emotions. It's not an everyday thing you realize you're in love with your best friend. So avoiding it is. 

You know you'll have to say something at some point, you just didn't know how to say it. It's like your brain just shuts off when you look at him nowadays. He's just so genuinely kind and loving, and that goofy little grin he makes when he gets excited, and the way his brows furrow when he focuses on something-

Focus. Don't get distracted. 

So yeah, you get a little silly around him since you figured out that you have a crush on him. It happens. But also you don't want to make a total fool of yourself so some distance was in order. 

You just didn't account for Steven to just not let that happen. 

It's your day off when the inevitable happens. You were just getting ready to catch up on a TV show you had on your watchlist for a while when your doorbell rings. You get up, confused because you didn't expect any visitor or delivery, and walk over to your door. You open it to find the one man you didn’t plan on seeing. 

Steven smiles at you, standing there in your doorway like an excited puppy. 

"Hello! I hope I'm not disturbing you but we haven't seen eachother in a while and I wanted to check up on you."

Curse him and his puppy dog eyes. How could you turn him away like this? 

You clear your throat awkwardly and step aside to let him in. 

"Hi Steven. Yeah it's been a while. I didn't want to worry you."

He steps inside and you lead him into your living room. 

"You've been busy then, yeah?", he sits down in front of your TV and you join him, "I mean you didn't answer my calls or texts either so I thought maybe you weren't feeling well."

It's only now that you see the little container he's holding. Your heart squeezes in your chest. 

He got you soup because he thought you were sick. 

And all the while you had muted him in your contacts so you wouldn't be tempted. You were the worst human being on the planet. 

You take the offered soup, thanking him profusely. Quickly you carry it into your kitchen and return with some water for Steven. 

"You really didn't have to do this. See, I'm fine."

You smile at him as you place his water on the table. Steven returns your smile before his face turns thoughtful. 

Fuck, he looked so pretty even like this. His mouth twists into this little pout and you are once again wondering what it would feel like to press your lips against his, what sounds he would make as you lean in to kiss him, how he-

"-so it was either that or you were avoiding me."

You didn't even notice Steven was talking again. Curse Steven and his stupid, kissable mouth. 

"I- well…", you stammer. You couldn't lie to his face, you had to say the truth. "I was kind of avoiding you."

You regret it immediately. Steven looks at you like a kicked puppy. "Why?", he asks and just with that one word your heart breaks for him. 

It's too much, the guilt and the still lingering thoughts of Steven's lips on yours destroyed any brain-to-mouth filter you've ever had. 

“Because every time I see you, all I can think about is kissing you and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

You slap your hand over your mouth, a desperate attempt to stop the words that have already left your lips. Steven stares at you, mouth agape and cheeks flushing. He starts stuttering and you can’t really make out what he's saying. 

"I'm so sorry. I didn't want to just dump this on you. I swear I had a plan and everything.", you groan, annoyed at yourself and hide your face behind your hands. 

Cautiously, softly, Steven asks: "Do you really want to kiss me?" 

He sounds like he doesn't believe it, that you couldn't possibly want that. And that could not stand. 

You take your hands off of your face and look directly into his eyes. 

"Steven Grant, I have been thinking about nothing else for the past weeks than how badly I want to kiss you. So believe me when I say that yes, I really really want to kiss you."

The noise that leaves Steven's mouth is the sweetest sound you've ever heard, something between a whine and a moan. You can't believe that he doesn't know what an effect he has on people. But you're happy to show him. 

"Would you- Do you want to- now?", he stumbles over his words, nerves overtaking him as he looks at you with such need in his eyes it almost leaves you breathless. 

Not a moment later you are on him, lips locked with his in a desperate first kiss. You swear you can see fireworks behind your eyelids as your lips connect. Steven whimpers into your mouth and his trembling hands hold onto you for support. In your rush you push Steven into the couch, all but laying on top of him as the two of you kiss to your heart's content. 

You force yourself to break apart from him with a gasp, forcing as much air into your lungs as possible. Steven looks up at you with dreamy eyes and a far away look, his face even more red than before. 

"Could we- Can you do that again?", he all but begs and with a laugh you nod. 

"Yes, Steven. As much as you want, whenever you want."

Immediately he pulls you back on top of him and seals your lips together again in another heedy kiss.