#don't get shelved pls

[01432853]

[kestrelteens]

Whew! I really really loved this set so much that I had to convert, well, almost everything?

The Nostalgia Living by @awingedllama has been my fave ever since it came out and I was just waiting for an ounce of my converting motivation to come back to get down to business. And it finally happened!

Because there are 50+ items in this set and it would take me 2 hours to list all of them, I will link this handy dandy catalog the original creator made so you can see what you're getting: RIGHT HERE. All of the objects are fairly low poly so you don't need to worry about that.

Some important information + previews can be found under the cut!

Enjoy & have fun! ♥

download (sfs) // alt download (mediafire)

grab the collection file here

There is a gaming console override included! Well, the console is buyable in the catalog and the override is for the controller so you need that package. It will conflict with any other overrides you have!

ALSO, 'cause there are some adorable vintage frames included in the set, I thought I could make them into changeable sim portraits! Now your sim family's portraits can match the fireplace (which is functional, also).

A lot of the items are repositoried to eachother! The shelving system, the couch, I did make note of that in the folders so you know what to download. Also, all the shelves have 10+ slots, the 'Dad's library' books function as bookshelves (and have slots on top of them).

The items I haven't converted and why (BUT I will look into them in the upcoming days I was just way too tired now lol sorry): draperies (the mesh appeared broken in the game); drink coaster (I forgot about this little guy); grand mirror (I still have to learn how to convert them lol); triangular shelf (I'm sorry but I really wasn't feeling this shelf, I remember it from my childhood and I always hated it in other ppl's houses lmao);

I also wanted to make the ceiling fan animated so it can spin and function as a light at the same time, but unfortunately right now that is above my converting capabilities! But I will look into that as well.

Right now I'm working on converting the build mode items! Precisely the doors, but the wallpapers + the carpets are included now. I will also convert the Nostalgia kitchen but it might take me a while 'cause I'm learning stuff about animating objects so I can also fix the CHALK kitchen I know it's ass, bear with me pls lmao ♥

AND this set is huge so I just know that I have forgotten about something or I have misplaced something in the folders, my adhd is having a field day SO please let me know if anything is missing or might not be working as intended! ♥

AND I mustn't forget to thank @tvickiesims for helping me out with the shelves and solved the issue of them not being recolorable, thank you Vickie! ♥

[plasticferal]

hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)

damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.

i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.

the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.

all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.

“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.

“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.

you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.

you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.

all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.

the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.

chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.

every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.

"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.

"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.

"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.

“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.

"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.

"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.

"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.

"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.

you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.

"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.

"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.

looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.

"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.

"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.

you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.

"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.

"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.

you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.

feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.

when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.

"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.

chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.

turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.

"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.

"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.

"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.

the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.

"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.

"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.

"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.

"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.

you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.

"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.

you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.

"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.

"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.

you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.

"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.

chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.

"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.

there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.

you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.

the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.

he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.

before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.

chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.

the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.

you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.

in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.

he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.

you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.

you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.

appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.

they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.

nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.

your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.

chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.

you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.

"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.

walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.

the room is filled with tension.

matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.

"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.

"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.

"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.

"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.

matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.

"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.

you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.

you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.

“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.

he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.

“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.

“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.

"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.

"chris," you start. he keeps talking.

“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.

“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.

“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.

"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.

"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.

"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.

"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.

"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.

"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.

"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.

you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.

"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.

you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.

"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."

"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.

"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"

"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.

"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"

"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.

"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.

your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.

in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.

chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.

the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.

you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.

"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.

he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.

"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.

tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.

turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.

you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.

"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.

"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.

with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.

"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.

his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.

"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.

chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.

"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.

he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.

"i mean it, y/n."

"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.

"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.

he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.

"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.

"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."

"i know, chris."

"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."

"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.

"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.

"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.

"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.

you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.

"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."

"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.

"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.

chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.

"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.

you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.

"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.

his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.

"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.

chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.

"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."

this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.

[grandlinedreams]

|| i regret nothing I need Cooper Howard viscerally both pre and post Ghoulification

|| notes: semi Canon compliant, spoiler-ish for end of s1, semi-shifting pov, Lucy is adorable but baby girl you will be chewed up and spat out pls grow more spine, Dogmeat has never done anything wrong ever, godbless Cooper having a southern accent bc that's my accent, yeah, gonna do a sequel to this and a prequel on Coop and reader's first meeting, ok bye

|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, couple of allusions to cannibalism, reader is not specifically gendered, NSFW ㅡ fingering/touching

“Where are we going?”

Not for the first time today, or even the last week, Cooper questions why he's letting the Vaultie (“Lucy,” she informs him primly, “my name is Lucy.”) tag along. The dog, at least, is a good, reliable companion. Dogmeat trots dutifully at his side, her tail wagging as he stops to glare at Lucy.

“Supplies, Vaultie,” he tells her, relishes the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “Need supplies or we'll both be knee deep in shit.” He pauses. “More than we already are.” 

She mumbles something he doesn't care to catch as he resumes walking, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his hat. He knows he could stand to be a little more sympathetic with the bombshell she's still dealing with, but he can't bring himself to ㅡ not when his daughter might still be alive out there, somewhere. (And his ex-wife, who he's pointedly trying to not think about too much.) 

Lucy is blessedly quiet for a good while, all the way until they get closer to where they're going. Cooper doesn't need that piece of shit vault-tec device on her arm to know where he is, but Lucy says it anyways.

“It's a town,” she mumbles at the cluster of ramshackle buildings, surrounded by the clustering of trees so much like Filly ㅡ but isn't. “Is thisㅡ”

“Yes,” he answers, “now shut it and walk.”

Lucy huffs. “I don't know if you've realized neither of us have means to pay for anything,” she protests, “but the general rule ofㅡ” 

“Vaultie.” If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. He's never had much patience, but she’s already reached the bottom of it and keeps digging. “Shut the fuck up about your goddamn rules. If you haven't noticed, nobody up here gives a damn about playing by what's wrong and what's right.” He gives her a meaningful look. “Now if you don't want me to leave your ass to whatever comes along next, you'll be quiet and let me handle it.” 

Lucy's mouth shuts with an audible click, and Cooper turns on his heel to resume walking, Dogmeat at his heels. 

Like Filly, the center of buildings bustle with the day to day of so many others, the cacophony of animal sounds along with chatter ㅡ Cooper spares Lucy a brief glance to watch her struggle to keep up and scoffs to himself, shaking his head as he continues.

He knows where he's going, a little shop shoved between two others, narrow but deeper than the other two, because he's been here before. Several times, actually. Which accounts for the familiarity with which he strolls over the threshold and leaves Lucy and Dogmeat to follow. 

There's the jingle of what might be a bell over Lucy's head when she follows, blinking at the interior. Neat and tidy, or at least as much as can pass for such things on the surface ㅡ rows of weapons and other assorted things on shelves and stands. 

Lucy watches The Ghoul rap his fist on the counter. “I know you're here,” he calls, “you never leave this damn place!”

She expects whoever it is to come scuttling out with the tone of voice he uses and being as accustomed to his rougher attitude, and she listens to the clatter of something further in the shop.

“If that's your greeting nowadays,” comes the answer, “you can fuck off.” 

To Lucy’s surprise, The Ghoul husks a laugh instead of offering another threat. Footsteps approach, and Lucy blinks at the person who rounds the corner. 

“You,” you accuse, finger almost into his chest, “thought I told you I was done dealing with you if you couldn't work on your manners.” 

Lucy stares, and watches as you turn towards her and raise an eyebrow, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity, then at Dogmeat. “A vaultie and a dog,” you say, then glance back at The Ghoul. “So, taking in strays, huh?”

The Ghoul grimaces. “Guess so.” He clears his throat. “Need supplies again, sweetheart.”

“Figured as much,” you say, arms folding across your chest. Lucy decides she likes you, because you're standing up to him ㅡ and he's letting you. “Take it you have no way of paying, again.”

Lucy wants to tell The Ghoul I told you so, because he can shit on all her little rules all he likes but the surface still deals in keeping the scales balanced. You have to eat too, so it's fair that you're expecting payment in the nonexistent caps they have. The Ghoul, on the other hand, tries a different route. 

“Oh come on now sugar,” The Ghoul wheedles, tone almost what could be considered as sweet. Playing at a gentleman for the way he leans against the cobbled together counter, even goes as far as to take his hat off and place it down. “Don't be like that.”

“Don't you sugar me,” you counter with an attitude that honestly startles Lucy for both the lack of genuine bite or answering hostility from The Ghoul. This isn't the first time you've met, she realizes, and is also quietly a little horrified to register that this almost sounds like flirting. “You're a pain in the ass, you know that?”

The Ghoul almost grins. “At least I'm consistent. Besides, you know you miss me when I'm gone.” 

You snort, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. Lucy feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with the atmosphere, like she's watching something she shouldn't be privy to. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you answer, bustling around to shove several fabric wrapped packs into his chest and giving him a meaningful look. “You owe me.” 

It's definitely flirting now, Lucy notes as The Ghoul's face lights up in a way that's still entirely human, tracking your movements with something far softer than anything she's ever seen from him. 

The turn towards her and head jerk to her and Dogmeat is as clear as dismissal as she's ever seen, to make herself scarce ㅡ so she does, but not before she catches the peripheral glimpse of the way you let him reach for you, almost melting into him for the way he moves to undoubtedly murmur something. 

That something is not the sweet words of a long time lover, but it's probably about as close as you're going to get with things the way they are.

 

“Anyone causin’ you trouble lately?” 

You roll your eyes. “Besides you?” He gives you a look, and you shake your head. “No, and even if there was, you know I can handle myself.” You turn to throw him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Don't tell me you're getting soft on me, old man.” 

It's Cooper's turn to snort, even as he moves to follow you. There's a sort of peace to watching you sort through boxes of shell casings and bottles of powder, letting his gaze drift over your body. 

When you turn, he doesn't even bother to hide the way he's watching you, and you arch an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he returns. “Can't I admire you?”

You roll your eyes. “I'm too expensive for you, Cooper.” It's a playful taunt, one that incites a little flare of something in his eyes as he approaches, the jingle of his spurs as he comes to loom over you, cages you in against the shelves of “inventory”. 

“Really now,” he drawls, leans in, eyes predatory dark. A lifetime ago, you might have been scared. But the wastelands made no qualms about beating fear out of people just as quick as it snuffed out life all together. “Here I was thinkin’ I might get a discount.” He reaches, thumbs at your bottom lip with his gloved digit. “What's the askin’ price, sweetheart?” 

This close, he smells like the wastelands and sunbaked leather, with a little bit of blood ㅡ but you don't mind. Never have, not sure you ever will. Not when it comes to him, anyways.

He's a dangerous man. A man with a reputation that's well-earned, spoken in hushed whispers and anything but nice. But you let him slot a leg between yours, lean in, press his lips to your hair. You smell like gunpowder and hot metal, grease stained fingertips and more than a couple bruises and scars for your efforts. 

Sometimes Cooper contends with the idea he might need you just as much as he needs that chem that keeps him sane. Admits it here and there, quietly to himself when he wanders in, squashes it down that he makes the trips sometimes just to make sure you're still alive. Not like he'd know if you were, till he sees you. Not sure what he'd do if he someday came up and found you gone. No note, no goodbye ㅡ quick and quiet, the cruelty of the wastelands.  

“Didn't answer my question, darlin’.” He mumbles, lips to your cheeks now. Soft skin, kept carefully with rationed doses of radaway and a healthy heap of keeping your cute little self out of business that doesn't involve you. “Come on, I asked you real nicely.” 

You hook your fingers in the loops of his belt, pull him closer. He can feel the jump of your heartbeat under his lips, now at your jawline. A soft, shaky inhale. Selfishly, he wants to keep you. Steal you away, greedy to keep you for himself. Hates the idea of whatever scum that rolls in that you have to deal with on your own. You can handle yourself, he knows that. 

Doesn't stop that little piece of him that's still truly Cooper Howard from worrying. But he knows better than to think he can protect you, because he can't. So he does what he can.

Your skin is soft under his teeth, forgiving to the nip of them, the blooming blossom of pink that reminds him of strawberries. The noise you make is just as sweet, and he wonders if you'd taste like that, too. 

“I'm waiting,” he prompts between little nips, mouth curving against your flesh when you grip at him tighter. There's a lot he could do to you, and not a lot you wouldn't let him. “Don't tell me this big ol’ cat’s got your tongue, little songbird.” 

Your lips part, and he expects either a sparky response or a soft plea for what this is tilting towards, partaking of something far softer than anything he's used to nowadays ㅡ  but you’ve always had a taste for throwing him for a loop, and you do it now. 

“Take me with you.” 

That snaps him out of his little hazy, touch-greedy daze, enough that he pulls away to look at you properly. “Repeat that?”

“You heard me.” You tug at the loops of his belt, eyes steely, expression firm. “Take me with you. Tired of this shitty little outpost. Figure it's time to move before I get myself into trouble I can't get out of.”

Cooper laughs. “Think you're runnin’ straight into that fire by askin’ what you're askin’, sweet thing.” A warning and a plea, mixed mish-mash in his words. Part of him wants you to stay here. Concrete, much as it can be, where he knows where you are. Other part says it'd be easier to watch your back if he saw it all the time. 

“That's not an answer, Cooper.” 

He snorts, softens at the edges again, a little sadder as he reaches to stroke your jawline, leans to bump his forehead to yours ㅡ radiation warm against radaway cold. “Wanna make sure you know what you're asking for, darlin’. I ain't your babysitter. Got my own shit to do.”

“I know.” There's that fire in your voice, the kind he loves and hates at the same time. “Wasn't asking for you to babysit me.” 

He swallows roughly. Lets his hands drift up your sides, tug at the tuck of your shirt, underneath to drag sun-worn leather against the soft skin of your abdomen. Relishes the way you shiver, leaning into his touch. “Can't promise nothin’, you know that.” 

Your smile promises the same kind of heartbreak his own words do, the kind rooted in the reality that the world doesn't deal in any absolute but death, and sure as shit won't give happy endings. Not anymore. “I know.” 

Cooper can't think of what to say to that, at least anything he's ready to, so he kisses you. Your lips are too soft against his, the warmth of your mouth reigniting that greedy, needy, human thing inside him. He pulls, digs his fingers into your soft, pliant skin, and he takes.

Takes what you willingly give him, hand over hand with nothing but that pretty little smile of yours. He muffles your gasp as he wedges his leg a little firmer, coaxes the part of your legs with a rough husk of, “just like that, dollface,” and delights too much in the sound of you moaning for him.

Hushed, quiet enough that there's no reason for Dogmeat or Lucy to come back yet (he doesn't know what they're up to nor does he really fuckin’ care at the moment), he lets himself indulge in the pleasure of your body against his. The sweet little sounds, half-gasped as he mouths at your neck, hitched to something almost like music as his hands wander. 

Pauses long enough to bite at the tip of his glove and tug, one then two, the bare, radiation scarred wander of his fingers over your body. It's selfish, the way he covets every little twitch and jump of your muscles, the choked gasp as he guides you into rocking against his leg. 

“You're so sweet for me, sugar,” he coos, syrupy as he picks you apart meticulously, piece by piece. Fingers still far too good at what they do when he replaces his leg with the press of them against you, remnants of a past life for how well he gets you to whimper his name. “Like ambrosia.” 

His fingers stroke, deceptively gentle, working over your slick, too-hot, achy skin until you’re panting and gripping at him, pleading for a relief only he can give you. And that’s exactly how he wants you, where all you can see and think of is him. 

The expression you make when he finally lets you come might truly be the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very long time. Headier than the Jet, dizzying and making him swear as he jerks his clothed hips against yours, breath sharp in his chest. 

“Gonna be the death of me, I swear.” He bites at your neck, digs a little harder, scrapes his canines into your sweet, yielding flesh. He could devour you, take bite after sweet, sweet bite and actually test that theory about the strawberries. Crack the cage of your rib, feast on that beating yolk of heart that thumps so hard in your chest. 

“Gonna let me do it, sweet thing?” He rumbles against your ear. “Let me have it all?” 

Your eyes flash, lips pretty and swollen as they part to answer ㅡ and the bark of that damn mutt ruins it all. At least it's a warning for you both, because he's stepping back and letting you fix yourself with surprising speed as Lucy and Dogmeat return, an expectant look on the fuckin’ vaultie's face. 

“Well? Got what you need?"

Cooper snorts, tracks you instead of answering as you press your hand to his for a second, gone around the corner. Lucy frowns when you return, pistol strapped at your hip and a bandolier slung over your shoulder like his, broad pack strapped to your back. Like you planned for this.

And you did, he notes, but it hadn't been contingent on his agreement. Idly, he notes he never did answer you, not really. But he just hums, then turns towards Lucy, who looks between the two of you, confused. 

“Yeah,” he finally answers, “got what I need.”

[daenysx]

i dont know if u are taking requests rn but if you are could you do something with remus lupin and a reader who is very confident (not snobby just confident). pls and thank you lovely 🎀

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy!! i don't know if i did well on this but i like their dynamic so much <333

remus lupin x fem!reader, fluff (lots of kissing because remus can't resist his girlfriend <3)

you have an aura that keeps pulling remus to you.

he feels like an addict most of the time, if that's the right word. you've been in a relationship as boyfriend and girlfriend for only two months but he never hides he's fallen for you the minute he met you at his favorite library. he still remembers all the details of that moment as if it's playing in front of his eyes; the books in your hand, your clothes, your charming smile as you ask for help to reach the high shelves.

your smile still affects him the same way, it appears. remus likes spending his evenings with you, it's so quiet and calming. he gets tired of busy days but they never seem to end, you offer him bits of peace in the silence of your room. a long forgotten tv show remus likes, play on your laptop as you settle down on his chest. his fingers are easy on your hair, you snuggle up to him as he plays with you.

"gonna fall asleep." you say against him. you don't want to sleep, not now. it's just that remus is so safe, you can't help yourself.

"you can." he says before kissing your head.

"can't." you say, spending your energy on sitting straight on bed. "i wanna spend time with you."

remus extends a hand to you, stroking your cheek with a loving finger. "we're spending time, dove."

"you know what i mean." you say before climbing on top of him again, this time your legs on either side of his thighs. he helps you sit, your hands tickle his sides. "i missed you, handsome."

your voice is low but tricky. leaning into his face, you blink slowly. you have a way of batting your eyelashes, remus wants to give you everything you can ever ask for. you get what you want at the end, though, it's always been like that. your lips make his head spin like he's been drinking an entire bottle of the expensive wine he occasionally gets.

"you didn't miss me?" you ask. how dare you, he wants to say. don't you see your effect on him? you're so teasing, trying to stay awake by loving him.

"please." he begs, his face moving towards you.

"please." you say. "i'm saying please."

remus can't help himself this time, cupping your lovely cheeks to pull you against him. he kisses you until he runs out of breath for a minute, you bravely kiss him back. you make quiet noises, you know how he's insane for any sound you let out. you do it on purpose. he likes it so much.

"you're so handsome." you say, breaking the kiss. "did i tell you today?"

"yes, 3 times now." he replies. his cheeky side comes out when he's with you.

"it's just that i can see every detail of your face when i'm this close." you explain, running your fingertips on his cheek. "you're so pretty."

you've never been shy with your affections, remus wants to hide his face to your neck. you're so easy with the compliments, but it's hard sometimes, accepting all the nice things you say to him so effortlessly. you mean every word you say, he knows. you make it seem like everything is possible, you're so kind and confident with your words. he wants to scream into his pillow, scream how much he loves you.

"you're so pretty." he says instead. "have you seen yourself?"

"oh, it's my favorite time of the day." you say happily. "when we compliment each other. you're boosting my ego so well."

remus pulls you for another kiss. his pretty, perfect girlfriend. he thinks he has every right to lose his mind about you, what else can he do?

the kiss is nicer this time because he at least tries to control his breath for it to last longer. you smile against his lips, your softness melts in his mouth and leaves a nice taste. your fingers go through his hair, you angle his face to deepen the kiss. he lets out a shaky breath, the smell of your perfume lingers in his space.

remus smiles when he leans back against the headboard. you take his hand in yours, put it on your heart. it beats too fast, your charming lips curved into the nicest smile he's ever seen. he presses his hand to your chest. you kiss his hand when he lets go.

"you don't look so sleepy now." he says. "aren't you tired?"

"no, not at all." you answer. "i've been waiting for you all day, saved all my energy for you."

"liar." he laughs, because you really are lying. you've been studying all day long, only came home when remus called you before leaving work.

"kiss?" you ask. he pulls you closer to his chest until there's no space between you, you wrap your arms around his neck. smiling satisfied, you kiss him for a last time. your head stays on his shoulder, he rubs a big hand on your back.

remus manages to put your laptop on your nightstand securely, closing it. he lays down on bed with you on his chest. you're like a koala, not moving a bit. "remus." you mumble.

"hmm?"

"i love you."

you're being the most honest when you're sleepy. silent seconds, quiet mumblings. always clear with your words, always telling him how you feel. he pulls the covers on your bodies, rubbing his hand all over your back. he doesn't hesitate when he says the words back. "i love you, beautiful."

"i can move." you whisper, eyes heavy.

"no." remus is certain. the room is dimly lit but he can see your eyes sparkling even when you're sleepy. "stay."

"good night, handsome." you say, kissing his neck soundly. "i'm gonna try a new recipe for breakfast. you'll love it."

"i'm sure i'll love it." he whispers. "good night."

[pretzel-box]

Hi Chea!!! First of all, I read some of ur fics, and I absolutely loved it. You did such a great job :D

Second, I wanna make a fic request because why not lol. It's my first time doing this, so I'm a lil nervous ishdudjudos

Can I pls get a fic where reader gets ill (like probably a cold or whatever) because of them constantly entering bodies of water and by the time they reach Sebastian, they're wet and miserable as hell so Sebastian just decides to keep them in his shop to rest and recover lmao

(Sorry if this ask is a mouth full aishdidhhd)

Tags: GN!Reader, Can be read as Established Relationship, Reader has a cold probably, comfort, slight fluff.

Words: 1,1k

Authors Note: Sorry for the wait! ÓwÒ It took me a while to gather my creative brain cells. I actually edited this story twice, so if there are any weird words or logic mistakes then I overlooked something!

It had started as a small, nagging tickle in your throat—a little cough here, a sniffle there. Nothing serious, you told yourself. But days passed, and that tickle had grown into something worse. Yet, despite it, you kept going, pushing through the feverish haze that had begun to creep in. After all, the job wasn’t going to finish itself. Each day, you found yourself wading through rooms, water, and debris, trudging through wet halls to retrieve all assets and the crystal that were needed, drenched to the bone in cold, murky water.

You told yourself that once you were done, you’d rest. But for now, you have to keep moving. And so you did. Rest means death and death isn't something you aimed at for now. So it either meant pushing through or giving up.

By the time you reached Sebastian’s shop, the combination of the relentless water and your refusal to take care of yourself had finally caught up with you. The cold had settled deep into your bones, and your wet diving suit clung to your skin, sticking uncomfortably as you stumbled inside his little store. The warmth of the room hit you like a wave, making your head swim, and you stopped just inside the door, breathing heavily.

Sebastian, stood in front of a table and sorted through papers, glanced up the moment you entered. His usual sarcastic smile froze as his gaze took in your appearance.

You looked a mess—soaked, shivering, and pale, with dark circles under your eyes and a slight flush on your cheeks from the fever you were clearly running. Water dripped from your hair, forming a small puddle on the floor beneath you. For a moment, he just stared at you, incredulous.

“Are you serious?” Sebastian’s voice broke the silence, his usual dry tone tinged with something close to concern. “You look like death warmed up in a microwave. I don't sell coffins here yet.

You tried to muster a reply, maybe something sarcastic, but all that came out was a hoarse cough. The effort left you feeling even more drained than before. Sebastian’s expression softened as he sighed, slithering over to you with a quick glance at the water-soaked floor.

“Come on,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You're staying here. There’s no way I’m letting you go back out like this.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue—not that you would, honestly. The idea of staying in Sebastian’s warm, quiet shop was far more appealing than going back out into the cold, miserable hallways. You let him guide you through the cluttered aisles, past shelves filled with oddities and relics, to a back room that you had only seen in passing.

It was cozy, with a pile of blankets by the barely functioning heater and a couple of scattered books on a nearby table. Sebastian, ever practical despite his tendency to tease, pointed to the pile of blankets. “Sit. Don’t move.”

You collapsed into the pile, grateful for the soft fabrics that seemed to envelop you. The warmth of the heater seeped into your cold, aching limbs, and you closed your eyes for a moment, just trying to shake off the chill that had settled deep into your bones.

Sebastian disappeared for a moment, only to return with a towel, some dry clothes, and a steaming cup of whatever liquid he had in the cup. He tossed the towel onto your lap and then held out the cup, raising an eyebrow when you blinked up at him, surprised.

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you shiver to death,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might’ve been a smile. “Drink up, and then get changed. I’ll turn around if you’re shy.”

You snorted at that, though it turned into another cough. “I think I’m too tired to care.”

Still, his comment brought a bit of warmth to your chest. Sebastian wasn’t always the most outwardly affectionate person, but he had his moments. You took the cup from his hands, wrapping your fingers around it and letting the heat sink into your cold palms.

The tea-like liquid was soothing as it slid down your throat, easing some of the tightness that had built up. Meanwhile, Sebastian busied himself by pulling a blanket from a nearby chest and draping it over your shoulders, creating a little nest of warmth around you.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked quietly as he settled onto the edge of a nearby table, watching you closely. “You’re not exactly subtle when you're sick.”

“I thought I could handle it,” you mumbled, tugging the blanket closer. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

Sebastian gave you a look that clearly said, *Are you kidding me?*

“You’re soaked and half-dead, and you thought that wasn’t worth mentioning?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I think that qualifies as a situation where bothering me is okay.”

You sighed, leaning back into the blankets. The heater running softly in the background, the sound oddly comforting as the warmth of the tea and the room finally started to loosen the tightness in your chest.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I’m just… tired.”

“I’d imagine so,” Sebastian replied, his voice softer now, less teasing. “But next time, just tell me. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

You met his eyes, feeling a mix of gratitude and exhaustion wash over you. “Thanks.”

He nodded, brushing it off with a wave of his hand, though you could tell he was relieved that you were finally letting him help. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sentimental on me. Just rest, alright?”

You smiled faintly, shifting in the pile to get more comfortable. The heater, the warmth, the steady presence of Sebastian nearby—it all worked to lull you into a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in days.

As you started to drift off, you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on you,” Sebastian murmured. “Just sleep.”

For once, you didn’t fight it. You let yourself relax, your body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been gnawing at you for so long. And as you fell into a much-needed sleep, you knew you were safe. You were warm, you were cared for—and for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel so alone.

When you woke up later, the room was dim, and the heater had cooled down a bit. Sebastian was still there, sitting in a nearby corner, flipping through a file. He glanced up when he noticed you stirring.

“Feeling better?” he asked, his tone casual, though there was an underlying note of concern.

You nodded, your throat still a little sore, but the rest of you felt… better. Lighter, maybe. “Yeah. A bit.”

“Good.” He closed the book and stood up, stretching. “You’re staying here until you’re completely better. I’m not letting you back out there until I’m sure you won’t collapse in a puddle somewhere.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had felt oddly comforting. “Deal.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you truly meant it.

[hobicakess]

PLAYING DANGEROUS — (teaser)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: smut murder, blood and gore, Jack In The Box Hobi, corruption, workplace abuse, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, dubcon, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), black/plus sized coded reader, violence from every single aspect, police brutality, mircoagression towards woc, lawyer kim seokjin, maknae helping cause chaos, manipulation, drugs and addiction, unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday)

authors note: howdy hotties! this fic was heavily inspired by this post, i don't think it'll be 30 chapters but something about it just spoke to me and itched my writer brain. even though the mc is black coded anyone can read ofc!! I can't wait to write for this series. if you'd like a tag pls comment below. Reblogs are appreciated and check out my other works (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)

part one

There was a manic laughter that echoed through the new station. The giggles caused shivers and goosebumps to pass through everybody in the building simply because that laughter was familiar. The sounds were admitting from the little black box that sat on your desk. In horror you and your peers that happened to be close by watch the little black clown that popped from graffiti painted the box swing animatedly back and forth. Everyone in Korea knew this clown and what it meant.

“Mr.Kim is not seeing anyone right-” you push the secretary out your way causing her to stumble on her kitten heels and she watches you stomp your way into her bosses and yours office. The door opens wide slamming against the wall causing the booksvon the shelves to tremble, some even tumbling to the floor.

There he sat Kim Namjoon. He stared at you with his eyebrow raised. Some of the buttons of his black dress shirt were unbuttoned, the glass at his side was filled with brown liquid and even more books and papers laid out messily on his desk. .

With as much force as you could you throw the giggling box at him. The impact smacking him hard on the chest but with his build you were sure that it didn't do a thing. He held it in his hands flipping it over clicking an unknown button, shutting the gut wrenching sound shut off.

“ You told me if I took this story I'd be safe,*

Namjoon sighs as if you were speaking nonsense and not about life or death. “Let's be clear here you agreed to take this story when I only simply suggested it. Besides what makes you think Jack sent this?” He was right.

Maybe your coworkers thought I'd be funny to freak you out a little more since taking on the Clown killer case, still it was a sick joke that you didn't really find funny.

“Jack is locked in a maximum security prison surrounded by guards, and guns. He's not getting out anytime soon.”

The door swung open again and there stood his assistant. “Mr.Kim turned the news on!”

Grabbing the remote he clicks on the TV that was mounted on the wall of his office. The screen lights up showing a familiar smoking building. Your heart began to speed up in rhythm as you stare at the headline

Serial killer Jack In The Box escapes from Hangsang Maximum security prison

The screen flicks again to the dark red writings on the wall that used to be his cell.

‘See you soOn honey bunches 🃏’

And that was the last thing you saw before you tumble to the ground.

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

[quantum1mmortality]

could u write sfw/nsfw hcs of raiden with a size kink maybeee👀

I had to look up how tall Raiden is bc in the new game he just looks like a short king THIS BITCH IS 6'2??????????

Frothing at the mouth rn

Tw/cw: AFAB reader, size kink(obviously), overstimulation, dacryfilia if you squint, nsfw and sfw, mirror sex mmmmm, belly bulge

Not proofread go fuck yourself

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sfw

Raiden is the type of guy to constantly put items on higher shelves so you can ask him for help.

He's also the type of guy to want to compare hand sizes whenever he can. He loves seeing how his rough, much bigger hands look in comparison to your small, softer hands.

God he'd love cooking with you. He'd adore standing behind you and and guiding your hands with his.

He's obsessed with the way he can pick you up and throw you around like you weigh nothing. To him, you don't.

He'd really enjoy getting matching couples pajama sets and then have you wear his set from time to time. Why? Because he likes seeing how big it is on you.

It's like that with all of his clothes, really. His shirts are like night gowns for you and he'd be lying if he said he didn't love seeing you in them.

You borrow his clothes so often that your wardrobe is practically his wardrobe. And he loves it.

Because of how he towers over you, he often just, touches you. Anywhere he can, really

He loves holding you by the waist and resting his head on your shoulder, though. Does his neck hurt like hell afterwards from bending down so much? Yeah. Is he gonna do it again? Absolutely.

Nsfw

He'd be SUCH a gentleman in bed, but he does lose control sometimes

I feel like he'd be very neutral on most sex positions. He doesn't have a preference, but he love the lotus

He'd love how your back is pressed against his chest while your thighs are on either side of his. Its the perfect position for him to feel every part of you.

The only downside, however, is he can't see your face. He loves seeing how your face contorts in pleasure as his thick cock drags it's way in and out of your pussy, but he can't in this position.

How does he solve this problem? Mirror sex. He isn't adamant on getting you to watch yourself while he's fucking you, he knows it must be embarrassing, but he's obsessed with watching you.

He can see everything thats happening, your face twisting in pleasure, the white ring forming at the bottom of his cock, but most importantly, the belly bulge.

Oh

My

God

The belly bulge.

Once it starts forming, he can't take his eyes off it. The thought of you being so small in comparison to him that his cock is making imprints in your tummy makes him lightheaded

This is where him losing control comes in. On rare occasions, usually when he comes back from training and missions, he'd be so worked up over the fact he couldnt see you, touch you, feel you.

You're doing you thing, getting into position, and he sees it. The belly bulge.

He goes beast mode dude.

He's instantly flipping you on your back and fucking you in missionary. I think he'd be a bit rough, mainly coming from his harsh pace, but nothing leaves his mouth except pleasurable moans and praise

His pace gets so fast and him constantly pressing down on said belly bulge makes you cum. Don't worry, he's right behind you, but he doesn't stop after one round

How can he when you look so good writhing underneath him?

You get overstimulated after a while because of how many times you already came. Raiden would feel bad, but he knows you want this, you'd use your safe word if you didn't.

So he continues. He usually only stops when your body goes limp and falls asleep from exhaustion. Hed kiss away all your tears that formed both during and after each session followed by him cleaning and dressing you.

Dressing you in what? One of his shirts. Nothing else. He likes it that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: I'm getting so many good requests UGH if you guys do request anything pls remember it's taken me a bit to get to it 🙏🙏

[mazosstuff]

Could you answer a curiosity of mine?

Pairing: Jing Yuan x gn! reader

Cw: none

Word count: 1.0k

Synopsis: You notice something off about your partner's hair, so you point it out and get to spend some quality time with him.

A/n: I finally did it. I completed this fic, and now I can post it! As always, requests are open. Pls check the pinned post!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

It was a day like the others. You were tidying up a little while your partner, Jing Yuan, was taking a shower to clean off all the dirt and sweat he could have on his body since summer was coming up and the days began being hotter and hotter by the minute.

You still couldn't believe you could call the General of the Cloud Knights of the Luofu and one of the Seven Arbiter-Generals your partner.

The relationship was at the first stages, still pretty contained and not much action besides lingering kisses and long nights spent cuddled one against the other.

The Dozing General, after all, hasn't been romantically infatuated with anyone since his teen years.

But, besides that, you two had great chemistry and were a match made in heaven. The frequency of your visits started to piss off Yanqing for how much time and attention you were taking away from his master. He even started joking around with Yunli of how you two should get together.

The two young ones teased the hell out of both of you, but in the end, they've grown to like the idea of you two together.

As you folded and put away the dirty sheets, you went to grab new ones from one of the shelves in the closet that was in the corridor before the main bathroom.

Coincidentally, you both happened to open the doors of the rooms you were in, one to enter, the other to exit the bathroom.

There you saw him. The General, no, Jing Yuan was standing right in front of you. He looked like he had just come out of the shower. His hair was dripping wet. He only had a towel wrapped around his hips to cover his intimates and... he noticed you staring at him.

You quickly averted your gaze and buried your face in the clean bed sheets you had in your hands.

"I'm sooo sorry Jing Yuan! I didn't mean to invade your privacy" you said hurriedly as you got out of that little corridor.

All of the sudden, you felt his hand grabbing your wrist to pull you closer to him.

"H-huh?" You stared at him with a confused and flustered look on your face.

"I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, my dear. I'd just like to ask you if you could help me with drying my hair... it's a really... tiring process, and if I have to be honest, I don't think I have the strength to do it myself." Jing Yuan asked calmly. Did he really not care that there was one single layer of fabric that hanged on his hips for dear life that separated decency and indecency?

You sighed. "Okay... can you at least put something on?"

"Of course, dear" he said with his usual calm smile as he approached the bedroom and changed into his nightrobe.

Once dressed more decently, you invited him to sit with his back on the side of your shared bed. In the meanwhile, you prepared all the tools and products you thought he needed when in reality, he never really cared that much about styling his hair or using products to protect them from heat or being frizzy.

You sat down on the bed behind him and placed yourself with your legs at his sides.

As you combed and dried his hair, you noticed two major elements. You knew his hair was layered and not cut straight... but not like a wolf cut. The complete opposite.

"A-Yuan...?" You called out for his attention.

"Yes?" He answered with a soft and sleepy tone.

"Could you answer a curiosity of mine?"

"Of course. What is it that plagues your mind?"

"Have you ever got an undercut?"

He placed his hand over his face in order to hide the faint blush on his face even if you couldn't see it.

"Yes, I had one. When I was still a teenager, it just so happened that there was a really hot summer and... I gave in. I couldn't resist the heat, and, in the end, I gave myself an undercut. Like I said... dealing with these hair it's really time-consuming." He explained and then lowered his voice when he admitted he couldn't bear the heat of that summer.

"Don't be flustered, I get it. I knew some people that had to do the same thing..." You eased his worries. "And... by the way, have you ever considered having curly hair?"

"Yes. I actually did. But, as you may have figured out, I have little to no time to actually care about what hair type I have"

"That sounds like bullshit to me." You got up from your seat on the bed and indicated the bathroom.

"... is this a cue to go back to the bathroom, dear?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

"We have time now. Go and put your head under the running water. This may take a while"

"Yes, my love" he said as he went back to the bathroom. You were left there with a deep blush on your cheeks.

"Damn you..." you muttered under your breath as you waited a bit to calm down and then went in the bathroom where he was waiting for you with his hair damp.

After a good hour and a half, you made him look in the mirror with his damaged, loose, but still there, curl pattern.

"So... what do you think?"

He looked at himself in the mirror and not only he felt a little boost for his confidence, but he also appreciated the opportunity to spend some quality time with his partner. Doing something that made him leave the general role and indulge in the little things that made life worth living is surely something he doesn't do often.

"It's... really good. I appreciate what you've done for me tonight, dear"

"Don't mention it. I like spending time with you and taking care of you"

He leaned in and left a soft kiss on their lips.

"I look forward for the next time then." He said as soon as his eyes met with yours.

Your cheeks turning red was the last thing you wanted him to see tonight.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always much appreciated. <333

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

HI saw your requests were open for sagau so i thought i'd drop on by

can i request creator reader with favourites, specifically alhaitham and diluc but you can add more if you'd like! just generally how the character would react to being favourited by the creator and how the creator treats them pls <33

have a good day and no stress if you don't like the idea, just a lil brain rot i've been having recently

lei <3

Hello, Lei Anon! I'll gladly do this request! It's been a while since I've done something like this too lol—I'm doing great as of right now. I hope you're having a good day as well :) I hope you like what I got!

Alhaitham & Diluc Getting Favoritism Privileges ✨

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Diluc

When he heard rumors that he was being favored by the Almighty Creator, he denied it at first. It was just the drunkards in his tavern just talking and rambling. There wasn't anything that could be used as solid proof to back up their drunk claims.

If it wasn't for the fact that you strolled on in, saying, "Diluc, my favorite Main!" he probably would never have believed it.

With your attention consistently on him, Diluc is often praised for gaining Mondstadt the true blessing of the Almighty Creator. Diluc is constantly being given gifts that you find, bought, or crafted—be it a chair made of the finest wood, a fresh bouquet of freshly picked asters and cecilias, or a fresh pair set of clothes with the best quality of silk! Or, whenever you think your gifts aren't enough—mora.

"Your Grace...there is no need for any of this." Diluc doesn't know what to do with the amount of gifts you're giving him constantly. He doesn't even know where to place them in your manor. Adelinde and the other maids are even struggling to maintain the overflow of gifts you've been gifting.

And you, of course, don't think this is enough. "Diluc needs more love" is your motto now!

Alhaitham

Alhaitham's heard of the rumors about being favored by the Almighty Creator. Even Kaveh brought it up, drunk or not, about how Alhaitham was like the golden child of the Their Divine Grace.

Like the usual guy he is, he shrugs it off. Rumors cannot be taken as truth, but that does get him intrigued. Thus, he starts researching to see if these rumors were true, and if not, what parts of the rumor were true.

Turns out, the answer was rather easy to find—you just straight up walked up to him and handed a few books you thought he might find interesting for him. And by a few, I mean at least 50 books.

"Thank you, Your Grace. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to bring any of this home—" "I can help you bring it home!" "—nor do I have the space for it." "I can buy you a new shelf! No, actually, I'll build you your own private library!" "Oh? You're even more intriguing than I thought, Your Grace. Allow me to ask for your help and aid to carry these books home."

You would often buy him books, or give him more mora, or hell, even gift him any furniture or equipment he needed! Anything he needed, you would find a way to supply it to him, or just gift it to him in general, because why not!

Safe to say that Alhaitham took quiet amusement to Kaveh's flabbergasted expression and shock. And, ever the perfectionist he was, how Kaveh was fumbling on shelving the books in the new (big) library you built beside his house that only he (and Kaveh) could access.

Safe to say he is grateful for your favoritism.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Dang, is my mailbox exploding with brainrots from people LOL. I certainly wasn't expecting this! I do hope these posts are up to your liking :)

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[3vergr3en]

Kissin' and hope they caught us!

part one | spotify playlist

PAIRING (📖) . loser!collegeau!jake x fem!college!reader

ADDITIONAL INFO (💻) . porn with VERY little to no plot, fluff if you squint, dry humping, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do that pls), soft!dom!jake turns into a slight hard!dom, jake comes inside, they're so in love with each other, it's implied they have another round at the end. (did not proofread this btw 🙊)

Word Count (📃) . 3.2K

Your place was so pretty. Everything about it screams you.

He looks around in awe, admiring the numerous houseplants perched on shelves and your window sill. He remembered you mentioning that you didn't want to spend an extra 10 to 15 grand on a dorm that you would hate. Instead, you saved up years of paychecks to rent an apartment off campus.

It feels so intimate when it's only you two. Alone. What can happen between two people who are alone? Did he mention that you guys were alone? In your apartment. After getting the best head of his life (as if he had others to compare to). Every provocative thought he's ever had about you is prodding at his brain, teasing him and mini him down there.

"You can get yourself situated, I'm gonna go change into something more comfortable." You say shortly before disappearing into your room.

He carefully sits on your couch, hands placed on each knee. He's nervous, okay? He continues to examine your living room, liking the cozy atmosphere the warm string lights bring.

Eyeing the Polaroid pictures hung in a zig-zag pattern on your wall near your TV, he notices a specific picture of you two outside a movie theater. He recalls the fond memory, a small smile appearing on his face. It was a fun night that he needed desperately. Looking back at it now, he realizes that before meeting you— his nights were mainly spent isolated in his dorm or the study room in the library. How sad.

"Okay, let's do this!" You cheer, walking over to where Jake sits, bringing the boy out of his thoughts (which seems to be an occurring habit).

Jake turns his head and takes one look at you to know that he's doomed.

You were in a pink, floral two-piece pajama set. The top barely covered your chest. Fuck. And you were not wearing a bra. He can see your hardened nipples poking through the cotton fabric. And your shorts? God, they did nothing to cover your plump ass. He can see your cheeks peeking out, jiggling with every step.

You knew exactly what he was thinking about. You had him wrapped around your finger the second you got down on your knees (jokes on you though, he was yours the second you laid eyes on him for the first time. He'll never admit that though).

"Alright, where did we leave off?" You hum, plopping down right next to him. You shifted onto your knees, leaning the side of your body against the backrest of your couch.

"I.." He trails off, letting out a shakey breath. He scrunches his nose to lift the frame of his glasses higher. How could he answer this question? Were you talking about the physics you guys went over before you.. y'know? Or were you talking about that?

Cute. You thought.

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot. Anatomy." You emphasized with a smile, tilting your head slightly to the left.

His eyebrows perk up, "O-Oh. Yeah.. anatomy." He clears his throat, stealing a quick glance at your exposed cleavage.

You push your breasts together with your arms as you lean forward, "I'm more of a visual learner by the way." You whisper against the shell of his ear. Yeah, he definitely knows by now.

His hands shift off his knees and onto the cushion beside his thighs when you crawl onto his lap.

He whimpers at the feeling of your clothed cunt sitting atop his growing erection. He closed his eyes momentarily, the sensation already overwhelming him. Someone end him now before he cums in his pants.

You rest your hands on his shoulders, "I've always found you cute, Jakey." You mumble, feeling him twitch underneath you. Oh? Guess you found another weak spot of his. "Always wondered what your lips feel like.." You trail off, taking his lips in yours.

His hesitant hands finally find a spot on your waist, his cold hands against your warm skin make you shiver. His lips move with yours in a messy rhythm. It was sloppy but filled with such need and desperation.

He can't wrap his head around the fact that he managed to get his dick sucked before getting a kiss from you. But it's all real when you grind down on his bulge, earning a painful groan from the boy. You make him so unbelievably hard, it's embarrassing.

You break away from the kiss, biting back the smile that threatened to form when you catch the fog forming in his glasses. Oh, how you want to ruin this man. "I've always wanted to do this with you," You start off, lips trailing down his chin, to his neck, then to his collarbone, "Do you want this as much as I—" You bite down on his bare flesh and he whimpers, "Do?" Jake moans when you start grinding down against him at a slow, agonizing pace, "Fuck— Yes." He hisses through gritted teeth. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your sides, forcing your hips to rut against his even faster.

You raise the back of your hand to your mouth to muffle your sounds. The friction of his bulge rubbing against your aching clit through your shorts had you bucking your hips forwards, "A-Ah, Jaeyun!" You squeak out, hands going to wrap around the boy's wrists. "Mm.. so s-sensitive." He grunts, lips finding a place on your neck. He continued to kiss around, sucking multiple marks on your skin until one particular spot had you moaning out his name. Yeah, he may be inexperienced, but there's a thing called porn. He knows it's not the best source to learn from, but hey, it gets the basics down

You can feel one of his hands inching up your sides, almost as if he was hesitant to do something. You did him a favor by pulling his hand farther up your torso till he's practically groping the side of your breast. "I'm not made out of glass, Jake." You reminded him with a breathless giggle. You soon feel a familiar sensation begin to pool in the pit of your stomach. You hadn't realized just how horny you actually were. Like every touch he left on your skin made you burn for more. If you weren't careful, you might last shorter than you expected

"Jake, I-I think you should slow down." You gasp when you feel him bite down on your neck. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it was enough to know it'd leave a mark for the next few days. You can feel him shaking his head against your neck, almost frantically like he was going to lose something, "Not when I can feel you sh-shaking against me." How does he—?

You arch your chest more into his hands. The same hands you spent hours daydreaming about. The ones that were gently fondling your boob through your shirt, thumb grazing against your perky nipple. "I'm close, Jake."

The times when you curse Jaeyun for being a little too into his studies, especially now when he's taking his time in studying how your body reacts to his touches.

You would make a snarky comment if it weren't for Jake humping against you right now, bringing you extremely close to your high. "Shit. Me too, Y/n." He moans into your neck, hands hooking underneath your arm to grab at your shoulders, bringing your body to be as close to his. The smell of your fruit-scented shampoo floods his senses, spurring him to come undone in his pants with a drawn-out groan.

You were surprised to find yourself liking that more than you thought. It was so hot to see him cum merely by humping you. Some people would find that to be embarrassing, but for you, it only made you yearn for him even more. If it was any other guy— well. Jake wasn't any other guy. With him, he could literally start barking while calling you mommy (projecting yourself much?) and you'd still find him to be the most handsome guy you've ever laid eyes on.

"Fuck! M-My god, yes!" With a few frantic rolls of your hips, you felt the coil within you snapping and a wave of ecstasy washed over you almost immediately, causing you to twitch against the man below you.

You were only given merely a minute to calm down from your high before feeling his hand snake from your chest down your stomach. "Jake?" Your legs clamp around his hand that was currently in your shorts, prying your soaked panties to the side, "Wh.. What are you— oh." He runs his middle finger down between your slicked folds, the tip prodding at your entrance.

Your senses were heightened as your post-orgasm haze still lingered. You didn't know if you should tell him to keep going or not. But in all honesty, why would you want him to stop? If this is the chance to finally have those long, slender fingers you've spent countless hours daydreaming about inside of you, why stop now?

He watches as your face contorts when he slides a finger in. He isn't sure where this new-found confidence came through. Did it come after he had his dick shoved down your throat? Or when he made you cum undone? He's not complaining when he currently has you falling apart on his fingers. "You're so wet.. makes it so easy for me to just slip it in." That must've done something with the way you cried out his name. Or maybe it's when he curled his finger against a certain spot that made you see white.

He easily slips in another, immediately curling it to rip out another cry from you. "Keep moaning like that, baby."

The pet name makes you clench around his fingers, and he couldn't help but grin. "Jake..please."

"Yeah? You want more?" He asks heatedly, curling and uncurling his fingers again, making you shudder against him.

You spread your legs farther apart, nodding as your lip was tugged between your teeth.

Jake slowly pulls his fingers out of you, only to go rub small circles on your puffy clit with his thumb. Having the girl of his dreams turning to putty in his hands? It was an ego boost he thought he'd never needed until now. Plus, it was so fucking hot.

In the meantime, you stripped your top off while Jake tugged down his sweats along with his boxers till his cock sprang free. It stood upright and proud, tip red and leaking. You swallowed hard, worry beginning to poke at you. If it barely could fit in your mouth without forcing it, how was he going to fit in you?

But you have no time to ask questions when you find yourself hovering above his tip, using a free hand to help align it to your entrance.

You both sucked in a sharp breath when you sunk down till only the head was inside. You know it's going to be a really tight fit. His hands curiously cupped both of your breasts, relishing in how soft they were against his hands. "You're sucking me in, holy shit." Jake curses, eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into your cunt inch by inch.

By the time you were halfway, you took a deep breath before sinking fully down in one swift motion till he reached the hilt inside of you.

Jake cursed your name out loud while his hands made their way back onto your waist, only this time was his grip harder than before. You let out a mewl that could only be compared to coming straight out of a porno. Tears swelled up in your eyes, which Jaeyun kissed away when it spilled down your cheeks. The stretch was a perfect blend of pain and pleasure. It hurts since he's the biggest you've ever taken. But it feels so good with the way he's prying your walls apart, stuffing you full. Your imagination could never live up to the real feeling.

What caught you by surprise though was Jake suddenly laying you down on the couch, towering over you while his dick still nuzzled deep within.

His glasses threatening to slip off at any given moment. As much as you would love to watch him fuck you with his adorable little specs on, you can't afford to risk it breaking and then never seeing him in those specs you love so much. You reached up and carefully pulled it off, folding it before placing it on the coffee table next to you guys.

He gives you a warm smile, and you feel your chest churn at the sight. God, this boy seriously has such an effect on you.

"Thank you." His accent is evidently thick, making you unintentionally clench down on him, causing him to groan. "Fuck, don't do that, baby." He mumbles weakly before leaning down to kiss you tenderly, running his tongue over your bottom lip.

You slip your hands underneath his shirt, feeling up his body. You can feel how toned he was against your palms. You pull away with a little smile, “Since when did you have abs?” You help slide it over his head, discarding the shirt somewhere in your living room. “Oh. I uhm, I work out in my spare time.” He explains. And only then do you glance over at his arms, soaking in the sight of his arms naturally flexing to show off his muscular biceps.

How much did you have to beg to have him put you in a chokehold?

"I like you, a lot." Jaeyun suddenly confesses, taking you by surprise.

"Jake. You're currently balls deep inside of me. You think I would let you do this if I hadn't liked you?"

You both stared at each other till you both burst out giggling. Seems that you guys were busy basking in your own perverted thoughts to realize how obvious your feelings appeared to be.

"For a nerd, you sure are stupid."

"For..." He starts, "Yeah, I got nothing." He laughs, combing back a strand of hair away from your pretty little face.

Shortly afterward, he goes to plant open-mouthed kisses along your jawline as his hands roam throughout your naked body, making sure to not leave an inch of your skin untouched.

You slightly grew impatient, resulting in you rolling your hips upwards.

His big hands pin your hips down onto the couch, forcing you to stay put, "Y-You need to stop doing that." He whines.

Before you could get something out, he was quick to pull out halfway only to slam back in. His mushroom tip rammed perfectly into your cervix, ripping out a choked-out sob from you.

His hands grab the back of your knees before pinning them up against your chest. He positions himself up on his knees, allowing himself to set a slow rhythm.

In between each thrust, he'd purposely thrust his pelvis flush against your ass then roll his hips, making you feel exactly how big he is. "Like how I feel buried inside this tight pussy?"

"God, yes." You purred, nails digging into his biceps.

Jake's head hung low, unable to pry his eyes away from seeing your pussy lips wrapped around his dick, your cunt swallowing his entire length with ease. He huffs, beginning to snap his hips back and forth at a fast pace.

Your body jolts with every harsh thrust. And all you could do at that moment was to take everything he gave you with a mantra of his name spilling out from your swollen, reddened lips. "o-oh my god! J-Jaeyun, shit!"

Your eyes were everywhere on him. They were eyeing the layer of sweat on his chest that glistened due to the lights. Then they traveled down between your legs, watching Jake pound into you with such determination. Now, they're staring straight into his puppy-dog-like eyes that were doted in lust.

His hand grasped your jaw, forcing you to look at him so he could watch how you reacted to his relentless thrusts. His thoughts were in disarray, drunk off the sensation of your walls squeezing around him as if you wanted to milk him dry. You felt as if your brain had short-circuited, babbling out incoherent nonsense. "Oh fuck, oh, god, fuck yes! There! Just like that, fucking god!"

You were nearly sobbing at this point. It was almost too much when you felt a fire pooling low in your abdomen. Jake could sense you were near with the way your walls were fluttering around his dick. "Are you close, baby?" He rasps, pressing his forehead against yours.

Your eyes were screwed shut, and the only thing open was your mouth which poured out a series of obscene noises along with a choked 'yes!'.

Jake bought his other hand up to rub fast circles against your clit, bringing you over your tipping point. "'m gonna cum, jae! Fuck— I'm cumming!" Like a spring coiling tightly and then being released, your orgasm crashes down on you. You feel both your body and mind dissolving into pleasure, clamping tightly around Jake's cock as a result.

You forced your eyelids apart in time to see Jake's face contort as his thrusts grew sloppy and erratic. His jaw hung low, tongue nearly poking out the side of his mouth (just like a puppy). "Gon' cum inside you, y/n. I like you so—" With a lewd cry, he nuzzles his face into your neck before fucking his cock deep into your sopping pussy, spurting out ropes and ropes of his hot, sticky cum to coat your inner walls.

His hips stuttered against yours. And you moan because you can feel his cock pulsating inside you, continuing to pump more cum inside you. At this point, you wouldn't be surprised if it began to leak out by now. "stuff you full of my f-fucking cum.. god, this tight pussy's milking me dry."

Although visibly spent from his mind-numbing orgasm, he made sure not to crush you by falling limp beside you.

You both bask in your post-orgasm daze by holding each other closely. His arm was slung around your waist whilst you nuzzled your face against his chest. His heart was palpitating, but he wasn't sure if it was from the earth-shattering sex he just had, or if it was the fact that he currently has you engulfed in his arms... after the most earth-shattering sex you guys just had.

"We should study together more often." Jake says, sending you a wink before reaching over to grab his glasses from the coffee table.

"Or.." You grab his glasses out of his hand, "We could do this more often," You slip on his specs, "—as boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Really?" He questions, eyebrows perking up. You can imagine the dog ears on him perking up as well.

You smile wholeheartedly, "Yes, really."

His hand cups the side of your face before he eagerly captures your lips into a passionate kiss. Your lips molded with his as if it were a perfect fit.

You pull away, letting him nuzzle his face into your neck, "Jake." You call out softly.

"Hm?" He answers.

"Were you planning on pulling out anytime soon?"

He pulls away from your neck to give you a playful smile. "I mean.. I can go for another round."

[hobiebrownismygod]

Hallo!! Can you make a Miles(could be any Miles tbh) x gn!reader in library fic? I js think it'll be adorable pls jhsjjshh

aww I love the library setting 😭😭 it’s so cute I decided to write a short one for both the Miles’. I hope you enjoy this anon!! Thx for requesting <3

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

1610 Miles

"Boo!"

You jumped back slightly as Miles peeked at you from the other side of the bookcase, a wide grin on his face. He was not what you were expecting to see when you pulled out the latest Percy Jackson book.

"Miles! Don't do that!" You chided, shaking your head as he jogged around the aisle, approaching you. "What? Did I scare you?" he teased, a book of his own underneath his arm.

"What book did you get?" you asked, eyeing him as he pulled it out, glancing down at the cover. "Alright don’t judge me…” he started cautiously, hiding it behind his back.

You raised a brow at that, taking a step towards him and glancing at his hidden arm. “What is it?”

He blushed slightly, slowly moving it towards you. “The Cruel Prince. I just heard about it and I dunno, I thought it’d be a good read.”

You grinned, pulling him towards you by the arm and taking the book from his hand. “What’s there to be embarrassed of? It is a good read” you teased, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I love this book.”

“Wanna read it with me?” He suggested, catching you off guard. “With you?”

“Yeah. I’ll get you your own copy, come on.” He said, nudging you towards the shelf. You looked up to see the book, a few shelves above you.

Before you could even attempt to get the book on your own, you saw his arm reaching up, grabbing it and promptly wrapping around your waist to pull you around.

“Miles?” You let a soft exhale as he pushed your back against the shelf, a stupid grin on his face as he kissed your forehead gently, lips lingering there for a moment. “Sorry.” He mumbled. “You look pretty today. Well you look pretty every day, just today…especially”

You smiled as he stumbled over his words, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. “I love you, you know that?”

His eyes widened momentarily, expression stuck in a grin stretched from ear-to-ear. “I know. I love you too.”

42 Miles

"Hey, you"

You felt an arm hook around your waist from the back, a chin resting atop your head. "What book are you looking for?"

"Jesus, Miles, you scared me" you said with a laugh, tilting your head back onto his chest so you could see his face. He gave you a slight smile before looking back at the shelf. "You didn't answer my question."

"I don't know...just something interesting. I've been pretty bored at home recently." You whispered, fingering through the different books, eyes lingering for a moment on each and every cover.

He pulled a random one out, glancing at the cover, a smile spreading across his face at the realization. "This one looks cool."

"Which is it?" you asked absentmindedly, not even sparing him a look.

He turned it towards you, grabbing your attention. "50 shades of grey."

You smacked his arm and he chuckled, giving you a stupid grin. "What? You not into those kind of books?"

"You're so stupid." you grumbled, taking it from his hand and shoving it back into the bookshelf. As you continued to walk down the aisle, hand out and running along the smooth wood, he followed behind you, looking somewhat like a lost puppy.

"What about a comic book? There's a new Batman out..." he looked over at the comic section longingly, eyes running over the colorful shelves, kids and teens alike crowded before them.

"You can go grab a comic book. Just come find me in the adventure section when you're done." you said, pulling out another book with a vibrant cover and opening it.

"Nah, I came here to spend time with you." he said, shaking his head. "So you have to come with me instead."

"Miles!" you groaned, letting him pull you behind him as he excitedly jogged over to the comics section. You watched him crouch down, pulling one out. "Ew. Superman."

"What's wrong with Superman?"

He shrugged, giving you a lopsided smile. "He's just boring, I dunno. I never liked him."

You pulled out another comic from behind you, flipping through the pages. "What about Flash?" His expression perked up. "Yeah, Flash is cool I guess." He said, taking it from you.

"Ahh, but you're a die-hard Batman fan, aren't you. It's practically treason to read a different comic" you said sarcastically, swiping it back from him.

"Hey, hey, no need to be dramatic. I can read about other superheroes too" he teased. "Batman's just my favorite." he gave you a wink.

"It suits you." you said with a grin, kissing him on the cheek as he began to flip through the comic, a wide smile on his face. "Was that supposed to be a pun?"

"No? How would that...oh. Shut up."

He laughed again, pulling you over as he sat down in the beanbag in the corner of the room, giving you some space to sit down next to him. He let you cuddle up to him, already opening up the book to read it.

"This is my favorite way to spend time with you, you know?" he said softly, pressing his lips against your forehead.

"Mine too." you whispered back, letting your head fall against his shoulder. "Mine too."

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

Side 2. Rina, Rocket Puncher

Note: someone pls tell her to stop punching the phone-

This took place between Chapter 35 & 36

The Smash Room was not the type of place Y/n had expected to visit that day. The walls were covered in padding, and an impressive assortment of “smashable” items—plates, bottles, electronics—lined the shelves like some dystopian buffet. Karina stood beside him, grinning from ear to ear, holding a bat like it was the best gift she’d ever received.

“Are you… sure about this?” Y/n asked, eyeing a particularly delicate-looking lamp.

Karina rolled her eyes, thrusting a bat into his hands. “Yes, I’m sure. Trust me; you’ll thank me later.”

“But smashing things on purpose… it feels wrong,” he admitted, staring down at the bat.

Karina laughed, already cracking her knuckles in anticipation. “It’s supposed to feel wrong! That’s the point. I needed a place to blow off steam, and I thought it’d be way more fun if you came along to try it out.”

"…I don't really have anything to blow off steam, though?" Y/n questioned.

"Lies." Karina deadpanned. "You're dating Minjeong. Surely there is something you find annoying about her."

"Oi, you're trying to rat me out now?" Y/n widened his eyes.

"It's between us." Karina giggled. "…unless?"

Y/n gulped, but Karina’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Fine… let’s do this.”

-

When they finally suited up, helmets secure and armed with a stack of plates, old electronics, and an assortment of glass bottles in the centre of the room, Y/n couldn’t shake a lingering sense of hesitation. He’d been dragged here, no doubt, by Karina’s insistence that “everyone needs to smash something every once in a while.” She practically glowed with energy as she scanned the items around them, clearly fired up for what was about to go down.

“Ready to blow off some steam?” Karina asked, eyeing a nearby plate with a devilish grin. She picked it up and weighed it in her hands like a pro, already looking to him for the go-ahead.

“Uh, as ready as I’ll ever be,” Y/n replied, still clutching his bat with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. “You seem a little too excited about this.”

“Oh, trust me, I am,” Karina laughed. “You don’t know how badly I’ve needed this!”

With a wild swing, she sent the first plate crashing against the wall, bits of ceramic scattering in every direction. She let out a triumphant yell, her face lighting up.

“Jeez,” Y/n said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that plate supposed to be someone in particular?”

Karina grinned, winding up for the next throw. “That one was for all the times I’ve had to work late for a last-minute meeting. And—” She smashed another plate. “—for every time I had to remind everyone to be on time, especially NINGNING!”

Y/n snorted, gripping his own plate. “Ning just use her aespa time….a bit too much, huh?”

“Oh, and don’t get me started on the stress of managing appearances and, like, fifty different social media expectations!” Karina vented, smashing another plate with gusto. “Not everything needs to be perfect, but the pressure is still there! SO DAMN ANNOYING!”

“YES!” Y/n said with feeling, setting up his own bottle to smash. He hesitated for a moment, thinking back on his recent frustrations with Winter, from her infamous ‘kiss prank’ to the slightly overwhelming reality of actually dating her…which came with some undisclosed baggage. He swung, and the bottle exploded in a satisfying burst.

“OHHH SHT! That felt good!”

From the bottom of his heart, he loved Winter, but that was liberating.

Karina, catching his thoughtful look, nudged him with a knowing smile. “That looked personal. Care to share?”

He grinned, a little sheepishly. “It’s just… Jeong. There’s so much about her that’s awesome, but dating her is a whole new experience. I mean, she’s perfect, but also impossible. She just, like, invades my space EVERYWHERE, which sounds great…"

"Uhuh" Karina was intrigued.

"…until she messes with all my stuff and stole my oreo stashes I kept for myself.”

“Oh, I get it. Minjeong does have that… selective attention to detail,” Karina laughed, setting up another bottle. “She’ll memorise every outfit in her closet but will still ‘forget’ to tell you she invited the whole group over to your place.”

Y/n laughed, nodding. “Exactly! And it’s like the more time we spend together, the more I realize she’s just as rowdy as the rest of you—if not more. But… it’s hard to stay annoyed when she gives me that look, you know?”

Karina grinned as she grabbed a plate, holding it up like it was a prized possession. “This one? This is for every time a schedule’s changed last minute, throwing off everything we’ve worked on!” She wound up, smashed it, and let out a satisfied sigh.

Y/n found himself nodding along. “You know, Jeong has this habit of casually dropping huge things at the last possible moment. Like, ‘Oh, by the way, I promised my mom I’d come by for dinner’—while we’re already on our way somewhere else.”

“Oh, she finally did that to you!” Karina laughed, taking a quick swing at another bottle, the glass shattering on impact. She turned back to him with a playful glint in her eye. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

“Tell me about it.” Y/n lined up another bottle and smashed it with a swing that was a little more enthusiastic than he’d intended. “I love her for how she is, but…those will kill my sanity.”

They both shared a laugh, the cathartic smashing of objects somehow loosening up more than just physical tension.

-

“Alright, Rina, use Rocket Punch!” Y/n challenged, feeling his earlier nervousness fade as he grabbed another plate and handed it to her.

"Ya, I'm not a Pokemon!" She took it, eyeing him with a mock-serious expression.

"Whatever, do it!" Y/n cheered.

“This one is for all the choreography changes we go through in the middle of a tour,” she muttered with feigned gravity, before smashing it so hard that tiny ceramic pieces ricocheted off the wall.

"Perfect shot." Y/n winced and gave a low whistle. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly, I think all of us need this every once in a while. You can’t keep everything bottled up without it exploding, right?”

He nodded, a grin spreading on his face. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time for the grand finale.” He held up an old radio, raising its high for dramatic effect.

“Ohhh, nice choice!” Karina cheered, standing back to give him space.

"KIM MINJEONG! STOP DOODLING ON MY FACE!"

With a loud yell, Y/n hurled the radio against the wall, bits of plastic and metal scattering everywhere as they both burst into laughter.

Breathless, Y/n leaned back against the wall, shaking his head. “Holy….I seriously didn’t think this would be so… satisfying.”

Karina nodded, grinning at him. “I knew you’d come around. It’s not just about breaking things; it’s about letting go, you know?”

He looked at her, her usual serious leader demeanour replaced with a relaxed, genuine smile. “You know, I think we all see you as this powerhouse who just handles everything. It’s easy to forget that you need to punch things.”

Karina’s smile softened. “I guess I do. It’s just… hard sometimes. When you’re the leader, there’s this pressure to always be ‘on’ and ‘perfect.’ But, it’s nice to have these moments where I can just be myself. Not ‘Karina the leader,’ just Karina.”

“Well, for the record, you’re pretty cool Rina, leader or not,” Y/n said, giving her a sincere look. “I think we’d all be a little lost without you, to be honest.”

“Cool? Not cute?”

“Erm. Sorry, I have a Minjeong.” Y/n denied.

She let out a soft chuckle, bumping his shoulder. “Thanks, Y/n. It’s nice to hear that, especially from someone who has to put up with us 24/7.”

"You're welcome." Y/n grinned. "Now, please stop punching the camera."

-

Exhausted and a little breathless, they finally put down their bats, slumping onto a bench in the lounge area. Bits of dust and tiny shards clung to their protective gear, but they looked thoroughly exhilarated.

Y/n turned to her with a smile. “You’re living up to the name Rocket Puncher, you know that?”

Karina shrugged, though her eyes sparkled. “I guess I just have a habit of punching things.”

Y/n laughed. “Just don’t go overboard. We can’t have you smashing plates left and right during practice, alright?”

She laughed, nodding. “Fair enough. I’ll keep it contained to smash rooms.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Karina pointed toward the photo booth in the corner, her eyes lighting up. “Hey! Before we go, we should take a picture. Just, you know, to remember today.”

Y/n followed her gaze and groaned. “Are you serious? We look like we just walked out of a war!”

“Exactly! That’s the point!” Karina insisted, practically dragging him over. “C’mon, tough guy, one picture won’t kill you.”

As the camera flashed, Karina made a series of increasingly ridiculous faces, pulling Y/n into the antics with her. By the last frame, he was laughing so hard he barely noticed the camera snapping.

When the photos printed, Karina held up the strip with pride. “This is definitely going up on the fridge. Maybe I’ll even show Minjeong.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Please don't. She’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Karina just smirked, pocketing the photos. “Consider it payback for letting me rant today. And don’t worry—I’ll only tease you a little.”

“Tsk.” Y/n sighed. “ But thanks for this, Rina. I think I needed it more than I realised.”

She smiled, looping her arm over his shoulder. “Anytime, Y/n. A little smash helps wonder.”

They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the conversation lingering, but in a way that felt comforting rather than heavy.

-

Karina’s usual habit was quickly taken up by a notch in the dorm. No one could resist teasing her after each new incident, and her reactions—half-defensive, half-mortified—only added to the fun.

Which happened sooner than expected.

One evening, everyone was gathered around the dinner table for takeout night. Y/n watched with an amused grin as Karina grabbed her chopsticks with a little too much enthusiasm, causing her plate to slip and crack against the table.

“Welp, another one bites the dust,” Y/n quipped, leaning back with a smirk.

Karina gave him a narrowed look, cheeks flushed. “You know what? Maybe plates these days just aren’t made to last!”

Winter snorted. “Or maybe you’re just turning into some kind of superhero with ‘smash’ as your only superpower.”

“Sooo…Hulk?” Giselle questioned.

Karina huffed, crossing her arms. “Well, I didn’t ask for this power.”

Ningning leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, but if you keep breaking things, people might actually believe you’re the leader of a super-powered girl group.”

Giselle clapped her hands, laughing. “Imagine if they replaced our choreo with you smashing props on stage!”

Y/n’s eyes lit up with mock seriousness. “Rina, think of the fan meetings. You’d just need to sign autographs on concrete blocks with a sledgehammer or something.”

Karina tried to stifle her laugh but couldn’t. She finally gave in, laughing as she tossed a crumpled napkin at Y/n. “You’re all just jealous of my raw strength.”

-

The next morning, Y/n and Karina found themselves in the kitchen, prepping for a long day ahead. Karina was trying to work the espresso machine, but it seemed to be giving her trouble. As she pulled the handle, the coffee machine sputtered and stopped working entirely.

“Did it just…?” Karina blinked, staring at the lifeless machine.

Y/n, stifling a laugh, leaned in to inspect. “Hmmmm, let’s see, it was perfectly fine this morning, and now it’s dead. Who could possibly be responsible?”

Karina swatted his arm. “Hey! I didn’t even touch it that hard! I just… pulled the lever with a bit of confidence.”

“Oh, ‘confidence,’” Y/n said with a grin. “That’s a nice way of putting it. You know, you’re like a coffee machine whisperer… except in reverse.”

Karina glared at him, then let out a laugh. “Fine, maybe I got a little too eager. But you’re making the coffee, then.”

Y/n shook his head, feigning exasperation as he grabbed his phone to put in a delivery order for iced lattes instead. “I’ll be sending this bill to the SM. You know, at this rate, you’re going to single-handedly ruin every appliance in the dorm.”

“Then maybe you should start getting unbreakable appliances,” Karina shot back, grinning as she took a seat at the counter.

Winter wandered into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. She looked between the two and yawned. “What happened now?”

“Coffee machine casualty,” Y/n explained, waving a hand at the machine. “She claimed another victim.”

Winter shook her head with a small laugh. “Great….another funeral?”

Karina shrugged, holding up her hands in surrender. “Apparently, I’ve just… developed an ult.”

-

A few days later, Karina and Y/n were shopping for some supplies when they wandered into the electronics section. They’d been joking about her newfound “habit” all morning, and Karina couldn’t resist poking fun at herself.

“Ya, Y/n, think they sell smash-proof headphones?” she asked with a grin, picking up a sleek pair.

He laughed. “If they did, you’d be their first customer.”

Karina nodded thoughtfully, pretending to examine the headphones. “Maybe we should just go all out and buy everything in metal. Like, imagine an indestructible blender or a phone that can survive anything.”

Y/n snorted, crossing his arms. “What, you’re planning on hurling your phone across the room?”

Karina gave him a playful nudge. “Not *intentionally*. But you never know.”

She picked up a ceramic mug, examining it thoughtfully. “Hmm. You think this one would survive me?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you try holding it like a normal human, and we’ll see?”

Karina broke into laughter, the two of them gathering curious stares from other shoppers. “Fine, fine, I’ll keep my grip to a minimum.”

-

That night, back at the dorm, the members were lounging around after a busy day. Y/n was tidying up the living room when he heard a familiar *crack* from the kitchen. He didn’t even have to look to know who the culprit was.

“YOO JIMIN!” he called, trying to sound stern but barely hiding his amusement.

Karina peeked around the corner, looking sheepish. “It was just a spoon…”

Winter groaned dramatically. “Do we even have spoons left at this point?”

Ningning held up a plastic spoon with a grin. “These are the only safe ones left. And I’m not taking any chances.”

Giselle couldn’t resist piling on. “At this rate, we’re going to have to wrap everything in bubble wrap. Including you, unnie.”

Karina laughed, her face flushing pink. “It’s not my fault! Everything’s so fragile!”

Y/n rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. “Okay, you and I are making a pact. Once a month, smash room therapy. But no more ‘practicing’ in the dorm, got it?”

Karina raised her hand in mock seriousness, nodding. “Fine, deal. Monthly smashing sessions only in the smash room. But only if you join me.”

The others burst into laughter as Y/n sighed, defeated. “Alright, alright. As long as you promise to keep your ‘smashing’ in the smash room.”

Winter nudged Karina, grinning. “This is really gonna be a thing, isn’t it?”

Karina shrugged, laughing. “Guess so. Let’s just hope I don’t smash anything important, like, I dunno… the door.”

“Or my boyfriend” Winter instantly glared at her leader while hugging Y/n. “Only he can deal with our rowdiness here.”

The entire group laughed, shaking their heads. Despite the accidental destruction, they couldn’t help but enjoy every minute of it. Karina’s “habit” had become an endless source of entertainment, and Y/n knew he’d never look at a coffee machine—or a remote—the same way again.

-

The next month rolled around, and true to their agreement, Y/n and Karina made another trip to the smash room. Karina was fired up, armed with a bat and practically bouncing on her heels as she looked at the new array of breakables.

“Oh, you’re going down this time,” she taunted, tossing Y/n a helmet. “Get ready to lose, mister.”

Y/n scoffed, slipping on his helmet and giving her a playful glare. “Is that so? We’ll see about that. Just don’t go breaking anything else when we get back to the dorm, okay?”

With that, the smash room countdown started, and they both went at it. Plates shattered, vases exploded, and Karina laughed wildly with every hit. They were neck and neck, neither one letting up as they plowed through piles of items. But just as they were about to swing at the last piece—a towering stack of old electronics—they paused, catching their breath.

Karina raised her bat, grinning. “Alright, let’s end this. Whoever smashes it first is the ultimate champ.”

Y/n, equally competitive now, rolled his shoulders, raising his bat. “Prepare to lose, Rocket Puncher.”

“Three… two… one!” They both swung, aiming straight for the top of the stack.

But just as they were about to hit, Karina’s bat connected a split second sooner, sending pieces flying—and her bat continued on its path, grazing Y/n’s arm as he tried to dodge.

“Ow!” he yelped, dropping his bat and clutching his arm, though a grin tugged at his lips.

Karina gasped, immediately dropping her bat. “Oh my gosh, Y/n! I’m so sorry!” She rushed over, her hands hovering as if she wanted to check on him but didn’t want to make it worse.

Y/n burst into laughter, holding his “injured” arm dramatically. “You actually smashed me, Karina! I didn’t know I’d signed up for *full-contact smashing.*”

She smacked his shoulder playfully, though she was still red-faced with embarrassment. “You were in my way! And stop laughing—I thought I broke your arm!”

He couldn’t help grinning. “Next time, we’re putting a strict no beating your manager rule in place. I barely survived.”

Karina laughed, shaking her head as she helped him up. “Guess I did win the smashing contest, though,” she teased, flashing him a victorious grin.

Y/n chuckled, rubbing his arm with a smile. “Yeah, yeah, Rocket Puncher… but the prize is definitely on you. Because from now on, I’m giving you a permanent smash ban.”

She pouted, though she couldn’t hold back her smile. “Fine. But don’t be surprised if I accidentally ‘smash’ something again. Just… try not to stand in my way next time?”

“That sounds wron-“

“Finish that and you will eat this bat.” Karina glared.

“Yes ma’am”

With a shared stifled laugh, they both left the smash room, Karina proudly claiming her “victory” and Y/n mentally preparing to dodge any “unintentional” smash attacks back at the dorm.

As they finished their monthly agreement and left the smash room, a renewed sense of camaraderie between them, both feeling lighter than they had in a long time. There was certainly mild hostility between the two of them when first met, but things changed for the better.

It wasn’t just the smashing or the laughs—it was the reminder that they had each other, through all the chaos, and that was a pretty solid foundation to lean on.

[shijiujun]

guys pls explain to me HOW 6 DAYS BEFORE 2025 WE STILL GETTING TRAUMATISED FROM BUY SALT CP IN SHOWS THAT DON'T EVEN EXIST IN THE SAME UNIVERSE AS MODC?!?!?!

SEE YOUR LOVE EP. 11 TODAY (2024)

Mr. Huang Chunchih as Mr. Huang in the show AND asking if people wanna buy his SALT farm

HISTORY3: MODC (2019)

MR. YU XIGU "I'll be right back" BECAUSE HE LEFT THE SALT ON THE SHELVES IN THE SUPERMARKET IN FAVOUR OF COKE

KISEKI DEAR TO ME (2024)

LET'S NOT FORGET OUR BE GANGSTERS

And ok they did get a happy ending in one of the other JBLs on a mountain but DAMN THAT IS NOT ENOUGH TO REMOVE THE TRAUMA FROM BUY SALT CP

[steviebbboi]

Once Upon A Friendship: Bittersweet Symphony

Pairings: Childhood Bestie!Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k~

Rating: Teens and up!

Disclaimer: Surprise, shawtyyyy~ submitting this sad lil number to 🍂Winds of Autumn Challenge🍂 made by @the-slumberparty // Chai latte ☕ caught in the cold rain // Melancholy ☁️ as the trees shed and the flowers wilt, we feel a sense of loss. Write a tragic tale. *this is a part to my fic Once Upon A Friendship. You may need to read it to get the full gist, but it could probs be read on its own-ish. *I wanted to submit a 3-part to this where it's a sad prequel, hope prequel, and then a post-OUAF fic for Chip and Steve. But not entirely sure, feel free to lmk if anyone would even wanna read that for these two <3 *i was inspired by Bittersweet Symphony by the Verve if you wanted to listen while reading!

Summary: Visiting home for the holidays has left you feeling sad and alone. Is it really the end of your friendship with Steve?

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't cuteeee~~~~

Warnings: 18+ for the explicit language. This is a sad one y'all get ready for the angst, explicit language/curse words. ends with some kind of hope. this is not beta'd so please be kind!

*Any comments/reblogs are much appreciated and are so encouraging - more than you know. Pls don't hesitate to interact with me <3

“Shit!” Ducking underneath the small alcove, you exhaled a sigh of frustration as you tried to wrang your damp hair, trying to rid it of the sudden extra moisture thanks to the abundant waterfall that was the rain. 

It was a rainy Autumn season this year, it was out of character considering that the weather around your hometown was usually well-adjusted. You were just out to go to the grocery store to see if you could scramble a last minute grab for some cranberry sauce. With Thanksgiving being so close, you knew that the shelves would likely be empty but your stomach outwon logic once again.

When you saw the gloomy clouds and the wind-blown fall leaves scattered all over the neatly trimmed lawns of other people’s houses, you should’ve known that you fucked up by not bringing an umbrella, much more, by not wearing appropriate clothing.

Leaving the house, you figured it would be a quick trip, in-and-out. Have hope and then feel disappointment (or if you were lucky, leave the store just skipping down the sidewalk with the dreams of eating the can full of gelatinous tart of cranberry goodness that would be clutched in your hand). Naively, you left the house wearing a pair of thin leggings and a crochet sweater.

Now, as you sat along the rainy road, seeking shelter underneath the small bus stop corner, you cursed your craving stomach and realized that you needed to listen to your intuition a lot more than you have been. The thick sweater left you feeling even muggier than you were before with you getting drenched in the rain and your thin leggings left you shivering with nothing to protect you from the gusty autumn breeze.

Trying desperately not to cry at how frustrated you felt, you sat there trying to replay the last few days. You were currently on mid-semester break, back home to celebrate the Thanksgiving weekend. Since you booked your flight tickets back home, you were dreading coming back as you knew that this would be the first time since graduation that you would see your family. Not only your parents, but Natasha and Bucky.

Steve. 

Natasha, being the friend that she is, tried to comfort you the best she could over the phone before you went on your flight. Apparently, Steve may not even be there for a long period of time since his semester was scheduled differently from all of yours. Word from Bucky was that they also may be visiting his mom’s side of the family’s Thanksgiving celebration. 

You did your best to coordinate dates and times so that you wouldn’t see him but one scolding from Nat bucked you up. 

“It was your decision to leave the way that you did. People are going to be naturally curious and so will Steve. It’s time to pull up your big girl pants, and come home.”

You knew that she was right, however cruel her words sounded– you knew that she was speaking from a place of reality. It was your decision to leave suddenly, even though you knew that the escape wouldn’t last forever. Your families were all so close, it was inevitable to see him again.

You just didn’t think that you would be feeling this much pain at this point. 

Grief is a funny thing - you’re still mourning this person who is alive, but in your eyes, Steve was basically gone. Seeing him there in that dimly lit bedroom, the thumping sounds of the music downstairs just reverberating in your ears, seeing Sharon’s lips on his as she laid on top of Steve. 

Tears brimmed to your eyes just at the image of it burning in your mind’s eye. The shock, anger, and hurt flooded through you as if you were still there. You didn’t regret what you said at the party. 

“I wish that I had never met you.” 

The words escaped you in such an impulsive fury. You never imagined that you would be the kind of person to ever feel that much hate. Towards anyone, but especially towards Steve, your best friend. The person that would never fail to make you laugh and would always help you feel less alone.

A wave of genuine sorrow washed over you because you weren’t spending the holidays laughing with your friends. You weren’t smiling. You were wet, cold and sad. 

And you were certainly, and most definitely, alone. 

You could feel yourself distance from what was happening around you slowly as you opted to wait out the rain. It was too much effort to call one of your parents, or Nat, even Buck – to come up and pick you up. Then, you’d just have to explain all the reasons as to why you’re wet and sad and you didn’t really feel like receiving that look of pity again.

You sighed again as the sounds of car’s splashing against the wet roads came back to you. After some pondering, you ultimately decided to head back home and took a look at when the next bus would be coming. Looking through the bus’ schedule on your phone, you heard footsteps rush in your direction but you assumed that it was another person just trying to outrun the rain. It was only when you felt someone sit next to you on the bench did you turn to the person.

Steve.

He was panting hard, his breath fogging in the air with exhilaration. He looked over at you as he sat down, he looked hesitant– as if he were attempting to say something. Your mind and body couldn’t move all of a sudden, you couldn’t help but just stare at him. 

You haven’t seen each other since that night – seeing him in the flesh, to see him in his stature just made the pain more real. 

Out of pure fight or flight instinct, your body broke the frozen barrier as you got up with lightning speed and turned to walk away. Before you could take one step, Steve’s strong grip clutched onto your wrist before you could go. 

“Wait, chip, don’t–” Steve pleaded at first until you whipped around to roughly take back your wrist from his touch.

“Don’t touch me!” 

The words felt like they echoed despite the loud platters of rain on pavement. You clutched your hand in reverence of his warm touch on your cold skin. Like you were clutching a burn, you held your wrist close to your heart where you felt it once again break like it did that night. 

Underneath the heartbreak, you could feel your younger self just utterly despair at the look on Steve’s face. He seemed to pale even in the ghastly weathered temperatures and fog-ridden air. His eyes held a shock that you recalled was present on the same night that you told him those shelled words. 

“I wish that I had never met you.” 

The words echoed again now too. It touched both of your ears whilst you stood there in mild panic as you both stared at each other. It truly felt like your friendship together really had never existed. 

Time passed a bit until Steve’s chapped pink lips suddenly moved, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you like that.” His speech was slow, as if he was trying to be very careful of what was actually coming out of his mouth. 

You only broke your stare away from his to look down at the darkened pavement, still clutching your wrist to your chest. You could feel the torrid rain from earlier brisk down into a soft mist, droplets catching in your eyelashes as you flit your gaze back to Steve. 

“What are you even doing here?” You mumbled to him, eyes wandering back and forth between him and the pavement.

Steve looked embarrassed before he stood up to meet you at arm's length. Both of you withstanding the mist falling from the sky. With a frown, you noticed the shortened distance between you two and attempted to back away until Steve reached his hands out as if to placate you. 

His resounding sigh let you know that he wasn’t going to come any closer as he responded, “Buck told me you were back home. I went over to see you and your mom told me that you left for the store. Figured I could try to catch you mid-route, and I did.” His words left a clear mark on what had transpired from the time since you came back home.

Steve was keeping tabs on you. Steve went to visit you. Steve came out in the rain to try and catch you.

Your eyes glazed over with a mist thicker than what was coming down. A burning sensation and tingling in your eyes overpowered you as you recognized the grief of missing him once more. More than anything, you wanted him to chase you. Follow you. But he never did, hadn’t for a long time. Until now. 

Grief, that’s an old friend. 

Doing your best to mask up your tears, you couldn’t catch the one that rolled down your cheek as you eagerly wiped away at your face. You tried to pretend you were wiping away the rainy mist but from the look of devastation on Steve’s face, you could tell that you didn’t do a good job of hiding your tears. 

Ignoring his look, you sniffed harshly against the cold air and a stoic expression overtook your flushed face. “Okay, and? What do you want?” 

He blanched further at your reduced and stoic tone but his eyes took a hopeful turn, “I was hoping that we could talk, chip. Last time that I saw you, I didn’t get the chance to explain or talk to you.” 

You frowned at his words, “You’re hilarious if you thought that I’d even want to talk to you, Rogers.”

Steve took the opportunity to say, “Well, I mean, we are technically talking now…” His eyebrows raised in attempts to invite humor into the space. His expression fell when he saw your furrowed expression.

Suffice to say, you were not buying it nor did you want to engage in humor about your pain with Steve.

“Chip, I want to apologize for what happened. I never meant for you to run into Sharon and I…especially not in that way. I mean, of course, at all– I never wanted you to run into Sharon and I doing anything–” Steve stumbled upon his words as he ran into a word salad in his brain. 

Your annoyance at his continued rambling cut through his random speech, “Rogers. What do you want from me?” 

Steve cut himself off at your decisive tone and said, “You never, never, deserved for that to have happened. It was a complete accident. I’m so sorry.” 

Fury. It was the only emotion that was coming through as you let Steve’s dead apology deliberately hang in empty air. 

You couldn’t hold it back.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?! Steve, the way that you looked at me when I walked into that fucking room–,” Steve’s eyes widened at your speech and he flinched as he saw your crossed arms fall to your sides dangerously calm. 

“It was like you didn’t want me to exist. As if my very presence annoyed you,” you continued, your breath coming in hot and fast. You didn’t even seem to notice your feet leaning and stepping closer into Steve’s space. Something else took over you. It was the former best friend of Steve Rogers that was in so much pain. 

“If you really ever truly cared, instead of chasing me out here to give me this half-assed apology, you would really need to apologize for the fact that you treated your best friend like shit for a long time, way before I even found you in that stupid house! When you blatantly ignored my calls and when you brushed me off in the library. For when you would stand me up at the diner or for when you would break so many promises that you couldn’t keep! For the times that you said that you would never betray me but then you did. For the times when you promised to protect me from bullies, like Sharon– until you went and became one.”

You couldn’t catch your breath. You could feel your chest heaving and the rain wasn’t misting anymore. The air was dry and stale and lingered a sour and gray aftertaste that could only be translated into a bitter melancholy.

Your body was only one step away from Steve now. Unbeknownst to you, you threateningly crept closer to Steve as you spoke at him. For all of Steve’s bravery, he planted himself like a tree as he wreaked your havoc. Your angry words washed over him like the rain, it felt truly deserving and sad.

“You shouldn’t be apologizing for what happened in that house Steve. What you should be apologizing for is for ruining a friendship that we can never, ever, get back. You did that. You.” 

Your accusing pointed finger poked harshly at his dampened chest. Your last resounding accusation of ruining the friendship made Steve harshly flinch once more. Bitterness didn’t allow you to break your gaze from his. A sweet and vicious victory started to fill your chest at the sight of Steve’s blue eyes tinting with unshed tears, the space in your heart that used to be sustained by love and adoration was replaced by pure resentment.

You stuffed down the pain as you finished off, “I don’t give a flying fuck about your apology. You were dead to me the minute that I left that house. I don’t want to be friends with you. I don’t even want to be around you. There isn’t anything here anymore so if I were you, I’d go back to Sharon and your other friends. Don’t worry! You could celebrate your untethered friendship with the loser nerd that you always just felt sorry for – you’re obviously really good at pretending.”

Sarcasm and disdain dripped from your words as you sneered at Steve’s now dulled eyes. He gave a slow shake of his head as if to try to reject your words and what he was witnessing and hearing from you. 

Steve blinked away his tears harshly as he shook his head again, almost like he resolutely decided on something. “You don’t mean that, chip.” 

Quickly, you corrected him with your name. Steve gave one last hurt flinch at that. “You don’t get to call me that anymore. Only my real friends get to call me that. And I did mean it. God, why do you even care anyways? You’re free! You obviously never cared about me. So I don’t care about you either. That’s it!” 

You frowned and grimaced bitter tears away as you made your claims. Looking back in Steve’s eyes, there were tears still present but something was different in them. A glint that you’ve only seen a few times in your friendship growing up. 

Steve determinedly shook his head again and refused to consider your cutting remarks, “That’s not true. I’ve always cared about you and I still do. You’re right – I treated you like crap and you didn’t deserve that. So you can keep insulting me and hurting me, chip. I deserve it. All those times that we protected each other, I wasn’t trying to protect me. I was always just trying to protect you. It was you who never deserved to be treated like that by anyone, most of all, by me. But I know that I failed you and betrayed you, and I am so sorry. I’m sorry.” 

His tone was hopeful once more and you couldn’t believe it but– you couldn’t help but recognize  the undying, caring nature that was Steve Rogers. You just said the ugliest and most horrid of things to him, beat him down, terrorized him – and he was still trying to meet you with compassion that you would allow, and he seemed to know it too. 

It was your turn to experience disbelief as your vision blurred, it was like the clock turned back time as you took in his words – you didn’t see the stocky and tall build of the man in front of you now, you could only see the skinny and small Steve Rogers. Your best friend. 

“I’m not free, chip. And I don’t want to be. I miss you. I don’t deserve to have a friend like you, but I’m not going to give up. I’ll do whatever I need to do to earn your forgiveness and trust back. Anything to be in each other’s lives again.” Steve seemed to regain the confidence that he needed since the beginning of this reunion as he stood at his full height, broad and statured. His face was determined and his voice was steady. The reverence in his body and words made you draw back again as you took one step back. 

“Just please, don’t give up on me.” His eyes downcast again as he desperately clung onto the tense silence that held the potential for repair. 

You didn’t know what to feel. Numb heaviness took over your body and it was like any words or response was trapped inside of you. You said all that you could’ve said, it felt like. You frantically tried to find the anger and bitterness again but they seemed to retreat into far enough depths where they couldn’t be found. 

But with his words sinking in, his seemingly urgent request touched something inside of you. The only thing that seemed to shine was a halting jolt of reluctant hope. 

Almost as if he could see it too, Steve allowed his own small hope to seep through as a small smile endeared his handsome face. Silence continued to fill the space as it became clear that you weren’t capable of responding, he took two steps back as he finally gave you the space that he knew you didn’t ask for, but now respectfully gave. 

“I’ll go back home now. I’ll see you in a few days at the party.” He nodded at you, his eyes shining with glimmers of promise as he turned the walk back from where he came. The same direction that you would have to go down too eventually. 

You remained frozen with bated breath as you watched Steve’s form slowly distance farther and farther as he walked away, until you couldn’t really see him anymore. 

It wasn’t until later during the party, you plated your cranberry sauce and dipped a selfish spoonful into your mouth did you fully register what happened. You got what you wanted from the taste, but this overall unsatisfied feeling overcame you. Unsure of this feeling, you glanced over at the living room filled with laughter and cheer, the air smelling of mouth watering food – your wandering eyes froze again as you stumbled upon Steve. He was standing with Bucky and Natasha, laughing with them but his blue eyes seemed to have already been seeking yours. 

Even from afar, you could tell that the promise in his gaze from earlier was still there. 

A/N: What are our thoughts? Chip really let him have it! This is one of those interactions that they have had together before the main fic where she would try her hardest to not speak with him. But as we could see, Steve is always persistent! I think that this may satisfy some of y'all who have been feening for a more angry-at-Steve response lol I'm hoping that it can satisfy some of the anger at him. He knows he fucked up, but he isn't going to give up their friendship! And as we know, he could do this alllll day. Thanks for reading laddies~

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[cherryredstars]

omg can i request a toji (or sukuna ) x female reader

can it be baking with both of them. pls i need them like play fighting with the whip cream i think it would be so cute 🥰 Also HOW everything cherry

-🐈

Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader, Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing

A/N: First JJK fic, pose for the picture!

Unedited

Toji Fushiguro

You hope he contracts samonella.

You scowl at Toji as he dips his finger into the cake batter again, quickly sucking the finger into his mouth before the mixture could drip back into the bowl. Despite his promises to help you make a cake for Megumi's birthday, he hasn't lifted a single finger unless it was to eat all your ingredients. You had first realized his motives after you started cutting strawberries, confusion flickering over your face every time you looked at the bowl to find the amount of the juicy berries the same despite what felt like hours of cutting. It took Toji's snarky laughter behind you to connect the dots. Since then, he's been sticking his disgusting fingers into any edible ingredients you had laid out on the counter.

You swat his arm with the tea towel, eyes narrowed at the grown man.

"Can you stop eating your son's cake? We don't have enough eggs to make more batter if you eat it all." You scold, grabbing the bowl away from him and moving it to the counter nearest to you.

Toji rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans his back against the counter's edge. "It's not like the brat'll eat the whole cake. He'll take like two bites of that shit and then ask for ice cream or whatever."

Your lips form a pout as you bend down to grab the circular cake pans from the bottom cabinet, purposely ignoring Toji's wolf whistle as he zeros in on your backside. "That's not the point!"

You sigh as you straighten up again, placing the pans on the counter and greasing them before grabbing the bowl, beginning to distribute the batter into the pans as evenly as possible. As if sensing the stress beginning to build within you, Toji comes over and wraps his arms around your waist.

"This is my first year celebrating Gumi's birthday," You whisper, swiping your finger over the batter-stained rim of the bowl. You hold your finger towards Toji, trying not to cringe when he licks the batter off. You can tell by his chuckle that you failed. "I just want him to know that I care."

Toji buries his head into the side of your neck, hiding the lovesick smile that starts to spread over his face. You're so cute. He presses a small kiss to the side of your throat, needing to let the growing affection in his chest out.

"Brat knows ya love 'im already. He'd love anything y'do for him."

The reassurance makes you relax slightly, grabbing the pans and gently hitting them on the counter to get rid of any air bubbles. Toji takes one from you as the oven beeps, signaling that it's finished preheating. You follow him to the oven, sliding your pan in first before taking the other from him and sliding it next to yours. You set the timer to the appropriate time, grabbing the tea towel and wiping away the small drops of batter clinging to your fingertips.

Toji wraps his arms around you again, placing a sticky kiss to your cheek. "Go rest mama, let me clean this shit up for you."

You melt into his arms, softly swaying your body in his hold as you close your eyes. You hum in agreement, slowly detangling yourself from his embrace. You turn and give him a fleeting kiss before stepping away completely, stifling a yawn with the back of your hand as you begin to exit the kitchen.

Toji watches with a small smile, the scar near his mouth distorting with the movement just slightly. Once you're out of sight, Toji turns to the fridge, bending down as he opens the door. His eyes scan the shelves before he finds his target, reaching in to grab it.

"Toji! You better not touch my whipped cream!"

Fuck, you know him too well.

Ryomen Sukuna

Next time, you'll plan a library date.

Maybe then you can show him a dictionary and the meaning of words such as fun and help won't be a mystery for him anymore. For a man who has lived for thousands of years, he sure is clueless to the most simple things.

"Ryo," You sigh, turning to him for what felt like the hundredth time. "Can you please at least pretend like you're helping me?"

Sukuna raises a brow at you from his place on the wooden chair he had dragged into the kitchen. He hasn't moved from his spot unless it was to avoid dirtying his robes like when you tripped holding a cup of milk. He didn't even attempt to help you, only giving you an amused look and not so kindly reminding you that you would be the one to clean it.

"I don't understand why you silly humans are so fond of such dirtying activities." He sighed. scrunching his nose at the mess of flour on the counter. "Why don't you just tell Uraume that you want something sweet? She'll have someone else make it for you."

"If I wanted someone to make me cupcakes," You begin to grumble, turning to him with a batter-dripping spatula, "I would have just went to a bakery."

"Excellent idea. Glad that was settled." Sukuna grunts, clapping his hands on his muscular thighs as he pushes himself off the seat. He makes a show of stretching, groaning when his back releases with a satisfying pop.

You roll your eyes at the curse, turning back to your half-stirred cupcake batter. "I'm not going to a bakery."

Sukuna lets out an annoyed groan, collapsing back into his chair which creaks in protest. One of his arms hangs off the back of the chair, and he rests his chin in his other hand.

"I don't know why I must be punished just because you would rather be difficult." Sukuna sighs, glaring at your back. You ignore him, instead asking him to hand you the cupcake pan next to him. He turns to it and gives it a deadpan stare, and you sigh after you realize he isn't reaching for it. You walk over, grabbing the pan.

"Is that what my company feels like? A punishment?" You ask, side stepping the arm he holds out to wrap around your waist. He scowls at your back as you walk away from him.

Sukuna leans back against the chair, sighing as he lolls his head to the side dramatically. "I said no such thing, woman. You're putting words in my mouth."

"You don't need to say it when you're acting like it is." You retort, beginning to line the tin with pink cupcake liners that you found at the store. They're a near-perfect color match to Sukuna's hair, hence why you bought them and are now making cupcakes.

You hear the chair creak behind you again before large arms wrap around your body. One of Sukuna's hands come up to cup your cheeks, squishing them together so your lips pucker. His brows are furrowed as he looks down at you and your nose scrunches when he dips his thumb into the batter and smears the cold concoction on your bottom lip.

"Stop hurting your own feelings with your delusions, brat." Sukuna sneers in his velvety deep voice. Before you can grumble a reply, he leans down and licks the batter off of you.

He hums in consideration as he pulls away, taking his time to analyze the flavor. His eyes are hooded as they meet yours again. "Sweet."

Your cheeks blaze under his hands, and you push him away. "Whatever."

Sukuna chuckles, grabbing the liners from your hand to distract you from his other hand. It comes up and smears batter on tip of your nose, and you gasp as he drops the last liner into the circular indent.

"There." He says, dropping the remaining liners onto the counter. "I lined the tin. You're welcome."

You let out an outraged scoff at him, glaring at him as he goes to sit down in his chair again. "You placed one liner! I did everything else!"

He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest as he manspreads in his seat. "But I helped didn't I? You said to pretend to help, but I went above and beyond by actually helping. Don't be greedy."

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish before you clamp it shut. "You're so infuriating!"

"What?" Sukuna smirks, leaning forward as he rests his arms on his knees. "Now, you're making me feel like my presence is a punishment."

You throw him an annoyed look before turning away with a scoff, trying to distract yourself from the annoying man by filling the cupcake liners.

"I'm so poisoning your cupcake."