#excuse me while i write a fic abt this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sheepispink · 3 days ago

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A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT

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Masterlist AO3

pairings: Simon Ghost Riley/ Reader (platonic or romantic, up to you)

tags: probably loads of military inaccuracies, anxiety attacks (possibly?), heavy angst, angst and comfort, paranoia, bad mental health, cuddling and literal sleeping together (up to you romantic or platonic)

A/N: I’d appreciate if no one complained abt the accuract/realistic of the story (ofc if its the characterisation of ghost that’s perfectly ok!) i’m open for criticisation for how i write etc etc but this is a sensitive topic and.. based off personal experiences 😅😅 so it’s very realistic to me even if its not to you!

This technically takes place after this fic but it’s not a big deal in which the order you read it

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You’re an introvert, even if you do get excited really quickly, loud around people you’ve known for a while and love meeting new people. Yet still, you call yourself an introvert, even if that technically still makes you an extroverted introvert. You don't like the sound of an extrovert— someone who thrives off of others' attention and loves to be the center of it, who brightens their days with their friends and always wants to make plans with anyone and everyone. You like the attention sometimes; when Price mentions your name in a conversation, praising your skills, your heart thumps a little louder. Being at the limelight of the party isn't always the worst thing either, especially when everyone laughs at your jokes so hard they double over, grinning so wide you can't help it either. You love your friends, your teammates, even the random soldiers you’ve only exchanged small greetings with. The love for others is held tight in your heart’s vessels, bursting each and every time they make you smile or you just see their presence. You feel so warm and alive when you give them a grin in the mornings, even more so when they seek out your presence throughout the day.

Though, that only applies sometimes— never always.

A familiar soldier could ask you out to lunch and yet your chest begins to twist uncomfortably, like someone is wringing your intestines with their hands. Something screams at you when they say those words, like an invisible line had just been crossed that had been clear in everyone's heads. You had only ever spoken to those soldiers in the gym or around base, there was nowhere else even remotely personal you’d think to take them to. One on one conversations were not common either, since it wasnt that often. It’s not that you don't like them, it’s just.. not right. You’d shake your head apologetically as you force an excuse between your teeth. The regret you then express is a lie, along with the love you felt before— only reduced to a being who could never hold any of those things.

The truth is, you have a sick little parasite in you, it claws at that heart muscle, tearing away the flesh and devouring any love you feel for the people you care about and replacing it with an empty feeling which is always followed by an unreasonable hatred. Your mind grows dark, headaches permanent, as you live through the day as a skeleton of yourself— no longer able to hold any love within you as it slips past your bones in seconds. You don't like the boundaries you’ve mentally set for each person to be crossed, even if it’s a perfectly normal task. In fact, some may even say you’re scared of change. You don’t like to put a label on these things, hell you don't even like to think too hard on these things. It begins to make sense when you sit and reflect, piecing all the reasons for your behaviour together until you hit the final point. Soon you’re done, finally aware of the most significant reasoning behind your antics. The only issue is, being self aware doesn't mean you get any better; no matter how many nights you sit and stare at that mirror, nothing changes.

The only thing you gained was the ability to squash down the parasite from prying eyes. Excuses fall from your lips quickly, no matter how bad you feel when they give you that look of disappointment. It’s not your fault— you know you won't be able to handle an outing like that, you’d get too worked up. Why? You don't need to dwell on it, not right now. This continues for multiple people, multiple soldiers for two weeks, until you're ‘normal’ and you hang around others again. People begin to subconsciously catch on and so your little routine continues to carry on moving so well, staying right on track.

“Sarge? You aint comin’ to team night? Why?”

Ghost stands at the door of your quarters, dressed in his typical training attire whilst you’re sitting in something cozy, made for home wear. You have to fight the urge to cover yourself up. “Oh right.. i, uh..yknow, lot of paperwork to do. Thought i’d stay in.”

You say with a small smile, attempting to ease any concerns he had before but little did you know, he was already growing aware of your little issue, or at least the fact there was one within you. “Paperwork? On a Friday? You should be relaxin’.” You grit your teeth a little, the burning urge inside of your chest returning just like the sick pit in your stomach. It felt so awful fearing just a simple team night out, but it was just so late and you were so tired— you didnt have the energy to be rational the whole time, to think of your next move constantly.

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll come to the next one.” You shrug, turning back to your small desk as you pull another small stack of papers in front of you. His boots thump loudly against the floorboards, sounding like the heavy thump of your heart in your ears. It stops, suddenly, behind your back and your body stiffens as he leans down, looking at the paperwork you’re going through. It’s a lie— naturally, you finished it all. He doesn't even have to stare at you first nor visibly raise a brow; you’re already waiting for him to call out your bluff just as quickly.

“You can just say you want some time alone, yknow.” That catches you off guard, half expecting him to just tell you to stop whining and grab some drinks. His words were still difficult though, how could you easily just say that? Of course, the words itself aren't the hard part, nor speaking it—it’s the implications behind said words. An excuse means you have other things to occupy you, so no one dares to disturb you much after that, however explaining you want some alone time gives way to more questions. Specifically the first being: why? Then they begin to wonder if you’ve been doing okay recently or if you’re struggling with something. You dont like the idea of that at all— people thinking about you in that way. It feels weird, almost like it’s wrong. Sometimes you wished people would just not care, and leave you alone to wallow with yourself.

“Sarge?” You snap out of it, sheepishly scratching the back of your head as he still stands behind you and you turn in your chair, putting the best meek face you can on for the night. “What? No, that’s not why I declined. I’m not really feeling any alcohol today and a new episode of a series I previously binged on the weekend just came out. Sorry.. didn't want to make it seem i was ditching anyone for a show.” Perfect, an awkward grin had tied it all off into a well constructed excuse. Even if it was partially true and this really wasn't fake, it sure felt like everything you did was an act. After all, you really didn't want them to think you were ditching anyone, and you didn't feel like having any alcohol tonight. “A new series” He says gruffly, and you nod with a tight smile, teeth gritting so hard you’re sure they’ll break in a few seconds. “I’ll join you then.”

You blink once, twice, three times in pure utter confusion. Ghost—The Ghost, whose name is rumoured across the battlefield and known for never giving into idle small talk—wants to watch the series you lied about, with you.

You’ve never felt more guilty in your entire life, practically fumbling for a solution. You could just tell the truth, say no and admit you needed to be alone. But this is the first time he’s ever expressed wanting to hang around you, actually together and alone— and miss out on a team night?! He may just want an excuse out of it, but still, you can't just say no now. “Well yeah, i just..” You hate how there’s no easy way out of this in the slightest, torn between saving your own mental health or finally getting close to the teammate who you’ve been on eggshells around for nearly a year now. “My room’s not exactly clean--“

He cuts you off with a gruff, shake of his head, a scoff resounding in his next words, promptly embarrassing you too. “There ya go— knew you wanted to be alone.”

You fumble, not understanding how he managed to pry it out of you so fast, just a simple lie blowing your cover. “I said it wasn't like-“

“See you tomorrow.” He’s gone just as fast as he silenced you, heavy footsteps disappearing out of your door and down the corridors. What you couldn't wrap your head around is how fast he had figured it out and made you confess to your lies that fast— it was a real problem, something you couldn't just let slide. If he knew, did others too?

Unfortunately for you, the very much needed alone time didn’t help as well as it usually did considering this new information has threatened everything that made up the core of your very being—specifically everything keeping you glued together. You just couldn't sit there and possibly relax like you usually did when alone (more specifically think over everything you’ve done wrong until you quite literally fell asleep mid thought)— not when Ghost could clearly read everything you had ever thought about in your life.

That being said, you’ve been a nervous wreck all week, concentrating so hard on looking sane that you’ve barely paid a second of attention to things you should’ve listened to. It’s not like you slipped up regularly, but before that day you were already feeling pretty uneasy and now with still no relief and the added stress, you feel like you really might lose it any second now. Every time you see him, every word exchanged with your teammates—with another person—it eats at you, tugging further on the ropes you’re hanging onto. They’re already been pulled thin, especially since you’ve been put in charge of a group of rookies for the past few weeks now. Of course, you had pulled the short straw when assignments went round because not only did your group love to talk back, but they loved to test every limit by asking the most stupid of questions possible. It’s the second time now you’ve had to lecture one of the rookies about why you can’t just ‘throw a grenade at the enemies’. It’s only temporary, just basic training exercises and medical procedures they need to know until the Officer, who usually oversees them, returns from their sick leave.

You let out a long breath as you enter the small break room, also known as taskforce 141’s meeting room but they’ve let you lounge in here too many times to count. It’s quiet in here, Soap and Gaz both on missions and you assume Ghost must be too. It’s the first time you’ve been able to relax all week, knowing damn well Price is down in London with Gaz. Your shoulders sag, the miserable look returning to cover your features now that you don't need to pull that tight smile anymore. Your chest physically aches from how anxious you’ve been all day, the weight of the day’s mistakes and fears of the future swelling deep in your gut. You know it’s a Friday, know you should just take a long sleep but you can’t help but think about all you have to do for the days to follow. You’re busy the whole day tomorrow, a team outing you can’t deny no matter how much you really do not want to go. Just thinking of all the final work you’ll have to cram in on Sunday makes a splitting pain run along the bumps in your brain. Even your breaths begin to feel shorter, an uncomfortable feeling that you just still cant rid of no matter how long you take deep breaths. Your eyes are weighed down with exhaustion and yet your brain refuses to let you sleep yet. No, you cannot. If you sleep the night away then you’ll only have Sunday left for yourself, and that won't work out, will it?

You pick up the mug you had just stirred, hoping the drink would soothe at least something if not your dehydrated body. Taking a small sip, the hot liquid spills down your throat, leaving a warm feeling in your ribs. “Alone by choice or force?” A gruff voice rings out behind you, along with an arm reaching around to supposedly grab a teabag as well, is enough to make you flinch. Stumbling on your own feet, your mug jolts and the steaming water splashes against your shoulder. If you were worried about someone catching you so vulnerable before, you were certainly terrified now, especially since your skin was burning from a small startle.

“Fuck— sorry—“

Ghost’s gloved hand settle on one side of your waist while the other quickly takes the mug from your hands and places it upon the counter. You cant respond, barely processing the situation and everything just feels like too much and your skin feels so hot, you know he’s seeing you fall apart and still there’s nothing you can do—

Your thoughts snap to a blank when he presses the cold rag against your burning skin. Thankfully the layers of the training uniform stops any severe marks from forming. His other hand rubs your cheek, his mask so close it could brush your face, and you can actually see every speck of brown in his irises. You can't look at him for long though, moving your gaze away quickly, not when you know what you’ve done. For the past week or two you’ve hated him, painting the most horrible picture in your mind. It wasnt even on purpose, you’ve just started seeing everything wrong about him. He doesnt give the rookies much mercy, nor does he particularly entertain any of Soap’s antics even when the situation is pretty lax. He’s boring, he seems to care about nothing but himself somedays, he refuses to let you do something stupid and he never takes that damn mask off even when you’re all supposed to trust one another. You’ve lied to him, yes, forgetting about your hatred when he made you laugh with those gruff remarks. But he’s not the only one— no, you’ve began to hate everyone in this task force, picking at them and every little thing. It’s weird, you don't want to victimize yourself, because you know you’ve done just as much wrong too. But still, somedays you really can't look past the list of things you dislike about your own friends.

“Are you alright? I havent seen you all week.”

Of course he hasn't, you’ve been avoiding them all. It’s nearly impossible to think straight these days and you knew you wouldn’t be able to fake it so naturally, you just stayed away. The more you did it, the better it began to feel. Avoiding them was the solution— you were just the thorn in their side with your tricky mood swings and anxiety always painting them to be the villain. You couldnt just allow this to happen, to destroy them with your issues even if they had no idea about it.

But now, face to face with him, all you feel is unexplainable guilt for everything you’ve done to them— how could you even hate them for a second? His hand is still rubbing at your skin, nudging your face gently upwards just so you’d at least look at him for a second. “Really? The silent treatment now?.” He sighs and you hate yourself, how did you let this spiral to this point— to where he’s apologising to you and yet you wish you could just disappear. Isnt this what you wanted? For everyone to be kind to you? So why are you running— why do you refuse care?

Your lips press together as your teeth bite down on the soft flesh, torn from how much you’ve picked at the skin the whole week. It aches with anxiety, and your teeth hurt from how often you’ve clenched them so hard they scraped against eachother. The only thing you can do is stand there as Ghost fusses over you, trying to get you to move a damn muscle instead of falling apart silently like some kind of broken watch, unable to move forward or backwards. Just still.

“Sarge— snap out of it, look, I'm sorry. Okay?”

His hands are still on you, and you’ve begged for a day where someone would care this much about you and still, you step back, almost afraid. “I’m sorry, Ghost.” You croak out, your hands reaching up to your eyes as you wipe at your skin obsessively, trying to hide and stop anything from leaking. “Why’re you apologising?” He says gruffly, confused by all of this, this sudden onslaught of emotion.

He’s not stupid, he had a feeling you weren't quite yourself this week. Stupidly, he figured you’d just deal with it on your own. That's what everyone did, right? He knows he just takes a breather when he feels a little rough— even Price had his own battles. Comfort isn't a strong point for Ghost, not even when he was Simon Riley, never has and he never thinks it will be. He’s born and bred on violence and the coldness that comes after it, the lack of warmth even as hot blood trickles and emptiness consumes the space where his fellow soldiers should be. So watching you crumble right before him, apologising profusely while your body wracks with shaken breaths, makes something stop in him too. He doesn't know how he’ll do it, but he knows damn well no one fights alone anymore.

“Look at me.”

He says firmly, both his hands landing firmly on your shoulders, one hand even tempted to just force your chin up but you shake your head profusely. “Why not?” He stays patient for you, even if he knows he may have to force you soon— its the least he can do for you. “I cant look at you. Not after everything i did.” He pauses, hands now settling on your jaw in confusion, he knows this is moving towards an interrogation but he has to know. “What are you talking about?! What did you do?”

“I hated all of you! I avoided you all and destroyed our relationship, i fucked it all up.”

With that he cant stand to see this continue, a gloved hand firmly planted over your mouth as the other wraps around your back. He leads you to the couch even as you squirm, not caring in the slightest. He knows he has strength and not comfort, so he’ll use it to shut you up whilst the truth comforts you instead.

“Look at me.” He says sternly and you do, eyes snapping up with wide fear as you look at him. “That’s not true— okay? None of us consider our relationship with you ruined, not one of us has even mentioned you in a bad light at all.” He makes sure your whole body is pressed against the back of the couch, considering that you didnt particularly look as if you could hold yourself up right now.

“Soap has only talked to me about you once recently— he told me you helped him organize the training schedules for the rookies. Told me to thank you for it because he felt he did not express his gratitude enough. Do you understand now? No one’s mad at you– not one of us have even considered anything to have gone wrong.”

His hand grabs your own, settling it on the center of his chest so you can feel the pattern of his breathing, silently praying you’d try and match it. You can only blink at him though, slowly processing his words with each passing second until his hand leaves your mouth and your lips part, breath hitched before you swallow a sharp breath. “I’ve avoided all of you– i’ve been hating all of you.” You choke out, chest clenching with regret and the weight of unreasonable guilt and his other hand moves to hold your face again, his brown eyes piercing into yours with his silence.

“What is like to hate someone?”

“What?”?

“What is it like to hate someone?” He repeats, his thumb pressing gently into the curve of your cheek.

“I-...” You falter, thinking for a moment before your lips part again. “I dont like things that they do— the way they act and everything about them.”

“You’d avoid them too, right? Like that general you hated. Remember when he touched you and you pushed his hand away?

You nod along in agreement, breathing a bit slower to hopefully ease the pressure on your chest at the moment.

“Y-yeah.. i’d express my dislike clearly..”

“So why did you never push me away the past few weeks? You said you avoided us, but you would always speak to us if we needed to. You still helped Soap too.”

You pause, blinking at him in confusion now, you had convinced yourself that you hated them so why did you never.. actually express it?

“You’re also letting me touch you now and last week you didn't want to hang out with us, but you didnt want to hurt our feelings by saying that.”

You’re left silent, baffled and confused because in your head, you were being horrible to them, hating their guts like it was nothing.

“I think… whatever is going on in that head of yours.” He says slowly, tapping at your forehead gently as you look up at him with widened eyes. “You’ve held it in for too long. You’ve dwelled on those thoughts, so self aware of your own anxieties that you’ve distorted reality. You think you’ve done something bad, because you can't understand why you always feel so bad.” His voice is softer than usual, even if his words are still gruff and holds his thick Manchester accent.

Somehow that alone reminds you that Simon has never lied, not even once, to you. That stern voice of his is straightforward, doesnt mess around and forces his way through any problem. Just like he had just pushed himself to the root of your mind and destroyed your seeds of doubt.

“You’re allowed to talk to us you know. I have a funny feeling you’re scared o’ somethin’. Not sure what just yet.”

He doesnt force you to respond, just speaking his thoughts even if that’s what you usually do when you’re together. The couch creaks as he stand up, pulling you to get up aswell beside him. He places a hand on the crook of your back, gently encouraging you to begin walking towards the door. “Cmon, back to my room. Lets get you cleaned up properly.”

Before you know it, you’re sitting against the headboard of his bed, something you had only felt months ago when you first came here, scared and confused over a stupid hornet. You trusted him to help you then, but you dont understand why you suddenly felt that fear again. Meanwhile, your shirt is half off, Ghost sat on the bed beside you as he inspects the burns on your chest from the tea. It’s harsh, the skin reddened but not enough to be something serious thankfully. He presses a cool towel against it, soothing the stinging skin but he knows it’ll fade out soon enough. You’re wearing his old shirt, and he gave you some comfortable sweatpants too for good measure. You just watch all his moves so quietly, feeling like a ghost yourself in this moment from how detached you are. It’s weird, feeling so much yet nothing at the same time.

“Nothing too bad, should be alright by the morning.” He hums, lifting the fresh mug of tea he brewed for you and brings it to your lips for you to sip before he steals some for himself. “Is your chest still tight?” You blink, not expecting him to ask that of all things because you hadnt exactly mentioned that part and yes, it was. “How did you know..?” Your hand reaches out, silently asking for more of the tea he graciously lets you sip, unable to fathom how he brews it so perfectly each time. “You were clutching at your chest before and your breaths are a little shorter than they should be.” He’s seen straight through you again so you slump your shoulders and just nod quietly. “Yeah, it’s really tight. It’s always like this and i dont know how to make it stop.”

His gloved hand reaches out, gently rubbing at your chest thus making you sink a little back into the pillows. Before he can respond, you speak up with a quiet confession. “That day, when you came ‘round, I was upset. You said you wanted to watch the series with me and I felt so bad. I didn't want to give up my only chance of spending time with you, but I knew my head couldn't take it.”

He nods along quietly, letting you reveal it all to him. “T-then you figured me all out and i got scared— i didnt want someone to know everything about me because i didnt want to be a problem. I want someone to listen but i dont want to be seen as something different. I just.. i dont know how to handle all of this. I dont feel like the person i am when i look in the mirror.”

The strangest thing of all is that it didnt actually take you long to figure it out. You knew all along, of course, but when you’re fighting against yourself, you’re supporting both sides and so a part of you decided not to dwell on a certain bit of information too much. The reason for that to be pushed aside is no part of you wanted to face it.

Your heart always secretly wished someone would find out— that someone would push past the walls you’ve banged so hard against even if they were crafted by the webs of your brain. You prayed and prayed that they’d read through it all, express their concern and one day, one day you’d be saved from this hellish feeling. It was a common daydream for you and yet you were terrified of it. If someone knew, there was no guarantee they’d follow the fantasy. They could ridicule you, or they couldnt be able to comfort you at all, maybe they’d try and it wouldnt even do anything or maybe, just maybe— they wouldnt give a damn about it. What happened then? If that daydream was real, and that was the final outcome, there was no turning back in time. It seemed like only one person would ever figure you out, after all, no one had up until this point.

But then Simon became aware, and you got terrified. You hid away because you were too scared to know his reaction to your problems, even more so his reaction to you. You wanted someone to help, you really did, and yet your brain feared to know the uncertain future of it.

His ungloved hands card through your hair, the callouses gentle against your scalp as he slowly scratches at it. “You need to speak with us, and the others. Your feelings are real— hell, we all have our doubts. I used to feel it before every mission. Soap began to tell me his, then Gaz joined too. Price always looks for a way to solve it, and i give my two pence when i feel i want to. Just cause you feel different, doesnt mean you are. Plenty o’ people felt the same way you did before.”

“Really..? I’m not like.. crazy?”

“No, never. Even if you do some stupid shit sometimes.”

That makes you finally crack a real smile, even if its small and you’re unable to stifle the small chuckle that bubbles in your throat and although he’s the epitome of stoicism, he smiles beneath the mask. “Everyone’s out on a mission, ya can't leave me alone tonight. C’mere.”

You settle yourself in the crook of arm as he lays back against the bed with you, propping up his laptop on his lap as he searches for a good movie.

“You better report back to me everyday this week, alright? I want you here at nine pm sharp, dressed in your pajamas. That’s an order.”

Thinking over all your previous daydreams of how this would eventually go, this was far from how you expected it to be. Firstly, you never expected Ghost, nor it to happen in the military at all. Perhaps you thought maybe later in life it’d occur or maybe Soap or Price would figure it out. Either way, you arent actually upset over it. No one would be your fairy tale saviour in life, coming forward to fight the demons that plagued your head all the time. Even so, the way Ghost had shut you up and calmed you down makes you think he’s pretty damn close to being one, even if knights usually dont scoff at their princess.

He doesnt even look like he’d be willing to give a little kid a hug, but still, you couldnt be happier with how this turned out in the end. Compared to fairytale princes and men in the movies, you knew Ghost and you knew he was serious— so if he wanted to help you, he would. And no, he wouldnt ridicule you throughout the process, nor ever feel like you’ve been misheard. You know that if you spoke to Ghost, he’d listen earnesty and never forget, carrying that around with him even if those anxieties eventually died out.

You knew he’d always linger around, never forgetting you or leaving you behind. Just like a Ghost.

“Okay, i promise i will.”

You say softly, pressing your cheek against the curve of his chest, the faint thump of his heartbeat drowning out any lost thoughts. He was your support, and no matter how bad it got for you, no matter how many times you get overwhelmed and lash out, not even when you avoid everyone— he’d never break away. No, he would always be beside you.

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thewritingrowlet · 6 months ago

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The Beauty and The Brawn, ft. Billlie Sheon

tags: creampie, throat fuck, cum-in-mouth, (almost) friends-to-lovers

tw: bullying, depiction of violence

word count: 8k+

author's note: This is the first fic out of 2 (or 3) before I start writing abt tripleS again. This fic shares the same "universe" (kek) as The Outing Trip, btw. (edit) I forgot to mention that Sheon is referred to as Suyeon in this fic

“Hyung”, Chanwoo, the deputy governor in the student council of the Faculty of Economics and Business, calls out to you as he enters the room, “I heard whispers in the wind about someone getting bullied at the campus”. “You did?”, you say as you look up from your phone. “Yeah, apparently it has been going on for a while too”, he continues, “I only heard about the rumor a few hours ago, sorry”. You shake your head and tell him there’s nothing to be sorry for, “it’s not like you’re the bully—wait, you’re not the bully, are you?”. Chanwoo is seemingly offended by your words, “What the fuck? We both know you’d beat me down to a pulp if I bullied anyone”. You nod in agreement; you’re known for beating up bullies and the evil sort and getting in trouble for it, which then begs the question: who dares be a bully when there’s a someone with a reputation like yours running around? “I’ll look into it. Thank you for the heads up”, you say to him as you leave for class.

You made it to class with 10 minutes to spare, so now you’re on your tablet to review last week’s lesson. You’re deep into it when you see a handful of girls and guys enter the classroom in the corner of your eyes. “Hey, what do we do about Suyeon-ie? She hasn’t started working on our assignments yet”, one of the girls say. “This bitch, man, I swear to God”, a guy says, “how can someone be so smart and idiotic at the same time? We’ll talk to her again after this”. Your concentration breaks after hearing those words. “Bitch, huh? Idiotic, too? Some interesting choice of words there, bud”, you think to yourself. You take a good look at them and burn their faces into your memory for future reference before turning your attention back to your tablet.

“Good afternoon, everybody”, Professor Bae says as she enters the packed classroom, “beautiful day today, right?”. She then sets her bag on the desk and connects her laptop to the projector. “Okay, before we start today’s class, does anyone have any questions about the previous one?”, she says as she looks around the room before pointing to someone who has their hand up, “oh, you”. The girl looks hesitant and nervous to ask her question, and you wonder if she’s intimidated by Professor Bae (which makes sense; she looks intimidating sometimes). “Thank you for the question, miss”, the professor says before starting the train of explanation. As you’re listening to her, you hear whispers from the bunch behind you and catch someone say “bitch” again but can’t make out the rest of the sentence, and it bothers your focus once again. “I need to get to the bottom of this soon”, you say in your head.

“That is all for today, everyone. Thank you for coming and see you next week for the quiz”, Professor Bae wraps up the class. You see one student after another start leaving the classroom, but you stay in your seat and wait until everyone clears out. “Excuse me, professor”, you come up to her, “may I ask you a question?”. “Sure, how can I help you?”, the professor says. “Have you heard rumors about someone getting bullied on campus, madam?”, you ask. She exhales deeply, “I can see in your eyes that you want to throw punches already”. “Madam, please”, you push her, making her take a deep breath. “Fine; short answer is yes, I have—I know the victim, in fact”, she says.

You’re perplexed, “you do, madam?”. She replies to you with a nod, “remember the girl who raised her hand at the start of the class? That’s the victim, a freshman named Kim Suyeon”. “So that was Suyeon, huh?”, you think to yourself, “what about the perpetrators, professor?”. Professor Bae shakes her head, “I’ve asked before, but she wouldn’t tell me, son”. “Respectfully, madam, I think she needs more closure and assurance that she’ll be safe before she feels comfortable enough to speak up”, you say to her. The professor nods and sighs, “I agree, and I guess I can’t offer her that”.

You say your thanks and bow to her before leaving, and that’s when she calls out to you again; “governor”, she says, “I do not condone violence on campus”. You blink your eyes in confusion, “pardon?”. “I repeat, I do not condone violence on campus grounds”, Professor Bae says with a wink and a smile at the end. The way she winks and emphasizes the last three words gives you some idea; “I will keep that in mind, professor. Have a good day, madam”, you say with a bow before you leave the classroom. “You have a good heart, Shin Jungwoo. I just wish you wouldn’t resort to violence like it was the only thing you knew, but you do you, son—I got your back”, Professor Bae says when she sees you leave.

You find Chanwoo’s contact on your phone and text him to ask if he’s in class, and he immediately calls you. “Hyung, what’s up? Found anything yet?”, he asks. “Kind of, and now I need your help. Find out what you can about a freshman named Kim Suyeon”, you say to him. “Kim Suyeon, huh? Alright, I’ll get back to you soon”, Chanwoo says, “what’s your plan when we find out who the bullies are?”. “We’ll try talking to them first before letting the fists fly”, you say, calm but resolute, “talk to you soon, Chanwoo-yah. Thanks for your help”. Chanwoo is one of the few people who doesn’t approve of violence but doesn’t shy away from it should it be needed—he’s helped you fight someone before, actually.

It’s been a few days since you found out the name of the victim and sent Chanwoo on a recon mission. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket as you’re walking to the cafeteria, so you pull it out and see that there’s an email from Professor Bae: “My office—now”, it says. You turn around and run in the other direction towards Professor Bae’s office as fast as you can, putting your cardio training to good use.

You press the bell to her room while panting like you were chased by an angry German Shepherd. The door buzzes as it unlocks, and you enter right away. “Good—hah—good afternoon, madam”, you say with heavy pants. The professor looks at you with a gentle smile, “good afternoon to you as well, governor”. You compose yourself and see that someone else is in the room, so Professor Bae introduces you to this person. “Governor, this is Kim Suyeon. Suyeon-ah, this is the governor of the Faculty of Economics and Business, Shin Jungwoo”, she says. “Kim Suyeon? That Kim Suyeon?”, you think to yourself, and that is when you see Suyeon turn to you. “Good afternoon, sunbaenim. We’ve met before, haven’t we? Nice to meet you again”, she says with a smile and red eyes; “she must’ve just finished crying”, you think.

“I’ve managed to convince her to open up to me”, Professor Bae informs, “you said she needed more closure and assurance, right? Well, I’m doing that right now”. You bend forward with your hands on your knees, “and-and—fuck, I’m tired—and how are you doing that, if I may ask?”. “I’m putting her under your watch, and I know you’ll never let harm come her way when she’s with you”, she pats you on the back, “what’s wrong with you? I thought you exercise often”. “It was the adrenaline, madam”, you say, “your short email made me nervous so I ran as fast as I could—I’m sorry for the profanity, by the way”. Professor Bae laughs, “it’s whatever, son. Now, get out of my office and start getting to know each other better, ‘kay?”.

You show her a soft smile and reach your hand out, “may I, miss?”. She timidly holds your hand and stands up, “yes, sunbaenim”. You lead her out of the office and towards the cafeteria. “Can I call you by your name?”, you ask her on the way. “Sure”, she says, “my name is Kim Suyeon”. You giggle softly, “nice to meet you, Suyeon-ah. My name is Shin Jungwoo—I’m sure the professor has told you about me”. As you keep walking, you feel a tug on your arm. “Sun-sunbaenim”, she says nervously, “can I call you by anything other than that?”. “Yeah, of course; call me oppa, okay? I’m 99% sure I’m older than you”, you say, attempting to make a friendly joke. A simple “okay” said in a seemingly low-spirited tone is her answer, and you make it your goal to make her feel better by the end of the day.

You buy a large bowl of tteokbokki and fried chicken to share with Suyeon along with a couple of soft drinks. You hand her some chopsticks and encourage her to eat first. “I-I’m not too hungry, oppa”, she says—timing can’t be more perfect, as you hear a faint growl from her stomach as soon as she says that. You pick up a piece of chicken and guide it to her lips with a smile, “please, have a bite; do it for me”. She slowly parts her lips and puts the piece of chicken into her mouth. She looks down at the table as she chews, and you suddenly see a tear escape her eyes. Your eyes widen in shock, and you move to sit next to her before pulling her to lean against your shoulder. “Woah, woah, are you okay?”, you ask in panic. “You-you’re so kind, a-and I’m not sure if I deserve it”, she sniffles, “pe-people have been really cruel to me and-and I’m starting to think maybe I deserve it, oppa”.

You’ve taken punches in the face before, but her words hurt way, way more than even the worst punch. “My fucking God, bullying really disrupts the victim’s psyche, huh?”, you think to yourself―you’ve never really interacted with the victims and never had the chance to see it from their perspective, as you’re usually busy throwing punches with the bullies instead. The way she cries when shown such simple gesture of kindness makes it clear for you that she has longed for it for an extended period, and it strengthens your heart’s resolve to continue your fight against bullying, both physically and mentally.

“Sweetheart, sweetheart”, you whisper softly, “it’s okay; no one can hurt you when I’m here”. Fate is doing its best to surprise you today, as you see the group of people who referred to Suyeon as a “bitch” walking in front of you. You glare at each of them, and they stop in their tracks when they see you and Suyeon being so close to each other. “Oppa, please, I’m scared”, Suyeon wails and hugs your arm tightly in tears. “Wait here, okay, sweetie?”, you whisper to her before leaving the table to confront them. It takes everything in you to not just whack these brats right here, right now; “tell me your names and classes”, you say, your voice laced with anger. The boys tell you their names—Lee Taewon and Kim Dojoon, both freshmen—while the girls are too scared to say anything. “Do you know who I am?”, you ask again. “I don’t give a fuck who you are; you’re just some chump who likes acting tough in front of his bimbo”, Taewon says. “Oi”, one of the girls says almost like a whisper, “that’s the governor, Shin Jungwoo”. “I don’t fucking care”, Taewon continues, “I’ll fuck him up just the same”. “Is that right?”, you say, “meet me in the alley behind Super Sandwich in 30 minutes—don’t run”.

You turn around to sit at the table again, and that’s when you hear Suyeon scream from the top of her lungs—one of them must be trying to take a cheap shot. You turn around just in time to react and strike back, making Taewon tumble from it. “You fucking bitch, save it for later”, you say. Dojoon is just standing there in silence; “come get your boy and get the fuck out of my sight”, you say to him. Dojoon rushes to Taewon and drags him away, so you head back to your table again to tend to Suyeon. She now looks afraid of you, as she tries to put some distance between you and herself.

“Hey, hey, I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetie”, you say in a calm voice with your palms open as a sign of non-aggression. “I-I’ve heard that you beat people up often”, she says. “Only the bad ones, sweetie—like those bullies”, you tell her. While she knows that you don’t shy away from violence, she doesn’t know that you can toggle your anger on and off like a lamp, and the cluelessness scares her shitless. You decide to text Chanwoo and tell him their names and your “appointment” while you wait until Suyeon calms down; “you want me to come with you?”, he replies. “No, I need you to wait for me in the council’s space and notify Professor Bae about this”, you tell him.

You put the lid over the bowl and ask Suyeon to follow you to the council’s space. When you arrive, you see that Chanwoo is already there waiting for you to come. “Hyung, can you, like, tell me a summary or something?”, he says. You nod, “Son Chanwoo, this is Kim Suyeon. Suyeon-ah, this is Chanwoo; he’s the deputy governor in the council—that’s enough of a summary, I think”. “So, this is her, huh?”, Chanwoo grabs an empty chair and sets it next to him, “please have a seat, Suyeon-ah—I won’t hurt you, I promise”. Suyeon hesitantly approaches him and takes a seat, “n-nice to meet you, sunbaenim”. You take a knee in front of Suyeon and open the bowl again, “Sweetheart, I have a favor to ask: I want you to eat as much as you can while I take care of those rascals. Can you do that, please?”. “Yes, oppa; I will eat as much as I can while you take care of those rascals”, she says with a smile, and you see in her eyes the hopefulness for all these bad things to end. “Keep her safe for me, man. I’ll see you guys in a bit”, you give Chanwoo a fist bump before leaving the room and head to the appointment spot.

It's empty when you arrive there, so you decide to wait it out and see if this guy is really about that or not. You’ve been waiting for 20 minutes when Taewon finally arrives, all by his lonesome. “Where are your friends?”, you ask him. “I don’t need them”, he shrugs, “I’ll take you myself”. You know that Taewon wants the smoke, but you can’t find it in you the same fury you’ve used to fuel the fire in your heart—you’d rather feed Suyeon some tteokbokki right now than fight this guy. “Man, I just want to be with Suyeon-ie right now”, you think to yourself. You see Taewon standing still like a dummy, so you taunt him, hoping that getting him riled up will get you riled up as well. “I don’t have all day, you bastard; are we doing this or nah?”, you say to him.

He rushes to you huffing and puffing and hits you right in the cheek. You shrug it off and mock him more, “all that shit talk earlier only for you to hit me like that? You’re wasting my time, you little shit”. He releases a flurry of punches, hitting you on different spots like your cheek, your stomach, and your chest, and it’s starting to hurt now. “There you go, my boy—my turn now”, you say before your right fist lands right on his chin, knocking the wind out of his body and forcing him to tumble backwards. “Focus up, my turn isn’t over yet”, you say as you ready your left to strike. The cheeky bastard thinks it is his turn again, as he tries to surprise you with a punch out of nowhere. Adrenaline has come to your aid and brings rage with it, and you use it right away to dodge and storm him with punches of your own, making him fall flat on the pavement. You press your foot on Taewon’s neck and tell him your demand; “leave Suyeon-ie alone—is that clear?”, you say to him sternly but calmly.

You don’t care if he has anything else to say and just walk away, and you’re met with Dojoon who apparently has been hiding around the corner this whole time. “Oh, there you are”, you say to him, “you want some too or what?”. Dojoon looks at you in fear before running away. “You’re not gonna help your boy?”, you yell at him but get no response, “guess I will then”. You rush to Super Sandwich and buy a bottle of water for Taewon and bring it to him.

“Hello again, brat”, you pull him up to his feet and lean him against the wall, “here, have some water”. You open the bottle for Taewon and hand it to him, and he finishes it within seconds; “thirsty much?”, you say to him. “I’m-I’m sorry”, he says in tears, “I never meant to hurt her like that”. You roll your eyes, “my fucking God, stop it with the crocodile tears”. “You don’t understand, man. I never hated Suyeon-ie”, he wails, "I-I liked her as a friend, and I thought about shooting my shot—I never meant it to end up like this”. You’re perplexed by his little confession, “you called her a bimbo and talked shit to me in front of her, you asshole, and now you want to say that you’ve liked her all along? You missed me with that bullshit”. Taewon grabs your wrist as you walk away, “promise me that you’ll take care of her, hyung”. Your head might be flooded with anger, but you can hear the sincerity in his voice when he said that last sentence, so you give him a nod and leave to check on Suyeon.

You knock on the door of the council’s space and Chanwoo opens it for you. “Welcome back, hyung”, he says as he hugs you, “so, how was it?”. You pull away from the hug and pat him on the back, “it was fine; he understood his mistake and is regretful”. You take a knee in front of Suyeon again and take her hands in yours. “Hi, sweetie. How are we feeling?”, you ask her. “W-what is that on your face, oppa?”, she says, as fear clouds her mind. You smile and tell her that it’s nothing, but she doesn’t think so; “I-I don’t want people to get hurt because of me”, she says, tears bursting out of her eyes, “just-just let me get hurt because of me—they’re after me anyway”. You take off her glasses and lifts her chin, “no one deserves to get hurt like you have, sweetheart, and they’ve agreed to stay away from you and not hurt you again”. She jumps off her chair and hugs you. “I’m-I’m sorry, oppa. I should’ve stood up for myself”, she says, “you wouldn’t have got hurt if I had”. You peck the top of her head, “I’m not hurt, Suyeon-ah, trust me. I’m fine and so is Chanwoo—we’re here for you, sweetie”.

Suyeon pulls away from the hug and wipes her tears. “Can I invite you two to come over for dinner?”, she asks. “I’m sorry, but I already have plans with my girlfriend—thanks for the invite, Suyeon-ah”, Chanwoo declines, “I’m sure Jungwoo-hyung is down for dinner, though”. You chuckle, “yes, I’m down for dinner”. “Great!”, Suyeon exclaims, “we need to go now, oppa!”.

Suyeon enters the passcode of her apartment and lets you in. Your heart sinks to the bottom of the trench when you see the scattered clothes and dirty dishes all over the place. “I’m sorry”, she says timidly, “I haven’t had time to clean up. I’ve been busy doing everyone’s assignments, you see”. You feel tears flowing down your cheeks as you assess the situation further. “My God, they’ve been ruthless, haven’t they?”, you say weakly as you wipe your tears. “It’s okay, oppa. I’m used to it right now”, she utters, and her words hurt you even more. You hug her tightly, “it’s over, Suyeon-ah. You won’t have to do this ever again, I promise. I’ll help you sort these things out, okay?”.

You let her go and sit down in front of the pile of clothes on her couch. You take a T-shirt from the pile and fold it neatly before taking another and doing the same. “Suyeon-ah, there’s a shirt here, do you have a hanger?”, you say to her, and instead of hearing a reply, you hear a sob instead. You look in her direction and see that she’s crying again; “what do you want from me, oppa? What’s your motive? What’s behind your nice guy façade, huh? You’re gonna make me do your assignments too, aren’t you? Answer me, oppa—tell me I’m wrong”. “I’m sorry but you are wrong”, you stand up and approach her, “I’m not going to make you do my assignments or whatever. I just want to help—would you let me help?”. She nods in agreement, so you ask her one more time if she has hangers, “ye-yes, I have a few. I’ll get it for you”.

You sit back down and put the shirt to the side for later so you can fold other stuff. “Here’s some hangers, oppa”, Suyeon says as she walks over to you. You look at her, “thank— “; your words are cut off by a peck on the lips from Suyeon, and the both of you blush at the same time. “Thank you, sweetheart”, you say, “the-the hangers, please”. She covers her face after handing them to you, and you focus back on the pile in front of you, which is gradually getting smaller. “Hey, underwear—oh, sorry”, you say as you see some bras and panties laying in front of you. You fold the bras in half and hand them to Suyeon along with some hung shirts, and she can’t look you in the eyes now.

“Time to do these dishes now”, you say as you leave the now clear couch. Suyeon tries to push you away from the sink with a grunt, but her small arms don’t have enough strength to move you. “Have a seat, please. I’ll take care of this”, you say to her, and she replies with a simple “okay” and take a seat at the dining table. “Oppa”, she calls out, “why did you call me ‘sweetheart’ earlier?”. “I just wanted to be clear that I wasn’t going to harm you in any shape or form. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable”, you say as you try to clean off a persistent stain on a plate. “It’s okay, oppa. You can call me anything you want—just don’t say anything mean, please. It hurts, you know, especially if you were to say it”, she says. “I know, sweetheart—I know”, you look at her with a smile.

Now that all the dishes have been cleaned and the pile cleared from the couch, you lie on it so that you can catch your breath. “That was tiring”, you comment, “I hope I did it well”. Suyeon walks to the drying rack to inspect your work, “they’re spotless, oppa. I’ve never washed them this well before”. “Great to hear, but I’m hungry now”, you say as you show her a thumbs-up. “Oh, um, I only have instant stuff, oppa”, she shyly admits, “I’m sorry, I know I invited you over for dinner, but I don’t have much right now”. “I’m sure instant stuff will still taste good if you’re the one making it”, you try to lift her spirits, “I’ll take you on a dinner date one day if that’s okay”. You take a peek at the cupboard she’s opening and see that she only has 2 packs of instant noodles left; “she doesn’t even have time to stock up on food—those bastards, I swear to God”, you say in your head.

She takes those two packs and looks at them sadly. “Are you okay, sweetie?”, you ask. “The-these are my last ones, oppa”, she says with a sorrowful voice, “I won’t have food if we use this”. You close your eyes in pain before offering her an idea, “you know what? Let’s eat outside and get groceries after—I’ll pay, don’t worry”. “You’re spoiling me, oppa”, she says, “first it was the mess and now this”. You shake your head, “it’s fine, sweetie. I’m glad I get to do these things for you”. You then take her hand and leave the apartment so that you can get dinner somewhere.

You take Suyeon to a burger shop near the campus which you heard is owned by the parents of a freshman. You head straight to the register to order; “good evening, can I have a double cheeseburger and fries, please?”. “Yes, you can. Anything else?”, the lady says, so you turn to Suyeon and ask her what she’d like to have, and she timidly replies that she wants the same thing you’re having. “Alright, please have a seat. Food is coming out in 10 minutes”, the lady says again.

You turn around to find an empty table, and that’s when you see another governor from the university. “Kim Yooyeon!”, you excitedly exclaim as you walk up to her with Suyeon behind you. You give her a high five and ask her if she’s alone. “Yeah, I am. My friends are on Jung Jisung’s trip”, she says before shoving a piece of fry into her mouth. You feel a tug on your shirt, and you’re promptly reminded that you’re not alone. “Ah, almost forgot—Yooyeon-ah, this is Kim Suyeon; she’s one of ours. Suyeon-ah, this is Yooyeon from the Faculty of Science—she’s a governor just like me, by the way”, you introduce them to each other. They both exchange greetings and you decide to sit at the table next to Yooyeon’s.

“Oppa, I’m going to the toilet”, Suyeon says, and you nod in response. You and Yooyeon keep your eyes on her until she disappears around the corner. “What’s her story?”, Yooyeon asks, “how did you find her?”. You sigh, “she was bullied, Yooyeon-ah, and I might or might not have punched her bully”. Yooyeon rubs her forehead in stress, “you really need to stop beating people up—we can’t keep defending you, you know”. You shake your head, “Respectfully, Governor, you have no idea what being a victim of bullying has made of her”. “May I ask?”, she prods. You list the things you saw earlier today: the messy pile of clothes on the couch, dirty dishes from God-knows-when, and the empty pantry. “She was so busy doing other people’s shit that she didn’t even have a second to think about herself—I’m taking her to get groceries after this, by the way”, you end your explanation. Yooyeon nods, and you’d like to think that she understands the severity of the situation.

Suyeon returns just in time, as the food is brought to you as she’s about to sit down. “Alright, I’m going to leave now. Good evening, guys. See you soon”, Yooyeon says. You give her a fist bump, “see you soon, Yooyeon-ah. Tell Jisung-ie I said—oh, speak of the devil”. Jisung is calling you; “I gotta take this, sweetie”, you say to Suyeon and head outside.

“Good evening, this is Shin Jungwoo”, you say. ”Good evening to you as well, this is Jung Jisung”, Jisung says over the phone, “where are you, man?”. “I’m at a burger shop with someone—Yooyeon-ie just left, by the way”, you tell him, “can I help you, president?”. “You know I hate it when you call me that, right? Anyway, what’s this rumor I heard about bullying?”, he asks. “Yeah, a group of freshmen had bullied a fellow freshman and forced her to do their assignments, even going as far as referring to her with derogatory terms, and the victim has been having it rough because of it—the victim is with me right now, in fact”, you give him a summary. “The rumor also told me that you’ve fought the bully as well”, you hear Jisung sigh over the phone, “we can’t keep defending you, man. Promise me this is the last time”. “I’ll ask Yooyeon-ie to tell you what I’ve— “, you’re cut off by a girl’s voice from Jisung’s side of the call. “Oppa! Oppa, are you okay? Are you hurt? You need to stop fighting people, seriously”, the girl says. “Sorry, who is this?”, you ask. “This is Nakyoung-ie, oppa. Xinyu-unnie is also here with us, by the way”. “Oh, hi, you two—you know what? We’ll talk about this again when you guys get back, I’ll bring Suyeon-ie as well”, you tell them. “Suyeon-ie? Is that the victim’s name?”, Nakyoung asks. “Yes, and I’m taking her to dinner and then a grocery run later”, you glance into the restaurant and see that Suyeon is looking at you, “I gotta go. Talk to you guys soon, okay? Good evening”.

You hang up the call and head back to your table. “Sorry, sweetheart. The president just called”, you explain to her, “are we ready to go or?”. She reaches her arms out, “carry me, oppa”. “Oh, um, sure”, you say, “haven’t lifted weights in a while but I should be okay”. Suyeon sulks, “I-I’m not that heavy, oppa, I promise”. You show her a soft smile before carrying her on your back, “I know, sweetheart. Come, let’s go to the supermarket”.

You drop her off in front of the supermarket and lift her chin to look at you. “Sweetheart, listen to me: I want you to get all the things you need and want without worrying about how much they are. Can you do that, please?”. “Yes, oppa”, she says with a gleeful and precious smile, “let’s goooo!”. She runs inside and grabs a trolley before sprinting towards the vegetable and fruit section. You follow her as she grabs some bok choys, half a rock melon, half a watermelon, and a few different types of mushrooms. She turns to you just before she reaches the freezer, “can-can we get some sausages, please, oppa? I, uh, I’ve been wanting to eat sausages for a while”. “Of course we can, sweetie. Which type do you like?”, you ask. “The-the one with cheese in it, up there”, she shyly points to the top rack of the wall freezer. You get on your tippy toes and grab a pack, “is one pack enough?”. “Ye-yes, I’ll make sure to not eat it in one sitting”, she says.

She then takes a lap around the supermarket, visiting each aisle and getting at least 1 item from every rack: soap, shampoo, pads, skincare, instant noodles, dried pasta, cheese, ketchup, hot sauce, kimchi, ground beef, chicken thi—“oppa”, she calls out to you as you’re inspecting her trolley, “I’m sorry”. “Excuse me?”, you say, unsure of what she’s sorry for. She looks down in timidity and points at the trolley full of stuff, “y-you said I could buy whatever I need and want, s-so I did”. “Oh”, you say, finally catching on to what she was sorry for, “it’s fine, I swear. It physically hurt me to see your empty pantry so I’m glad that I can help you fill it—come, let’s pay for these things and go home”. You push the trolley for Suyeon, and she wraps an arm around yours as you walk to the cashier. Suyeon covers her eyes as the cashier scans each item, probably feeling embarrassed of how many things she’s put in there. “That will be ₩48.600, sir”, the cashier says, and you hand him your card to pay. You notice that Suyeon is looking down at her shoes, so you grab her chin and turn her face towards you. “It’s okay”, you mouth to her with a smile, and Suyeon nods in response.

You and Suyeon carry one box each, as you make your way back to her apartment. Suyeon’s door makes a beep with every number she presses, until it makes a buzzing sound and unlocks. “Welcome back, oppa. Oh my God, my apartment is squeaky clean. I wonder who cleaned it”, she says with a dramatic voice. You laugh hearing her say that, “yeah, I wonder who did that? Must be someone important to you”. Both of you put down the boxes on the dining table, and Suyeon turns to you. “You are important to me, oppa”, she says before pulling you into a kiss. You try to break the kiss, but Suyeon chases you and kisses you harder.

“Oppa”, she says after finally breaking the kiss, “thank you for being here. You have no idea how thankful I am”. You muster up the bravery to confess to her, “I, um, I think I like you—I understand that this is not the time for that yet, but—”. Suyeon interrupts you by placing a finger on your lips. “If this isn’t the time, then I don’t know when is. I like you too, oppa”, she says with a smile. You return her smile with one of tenderness and promise her that you’ll protect her from harm in any shape or form; “I can’t stand seeing you be so sad, sweetheart. I want to draw smiles and laughs on your face”. Her eyes are glassy from unreleased tears, “I’ve been smiling and laughing a lot today, oppa. I’d say you’re doing a great job on your first day of being mine”. You blink rapidly in confusion, “do you want to run that by me again?”. “Ah, I should’ve asked first”, she slaps her forehead, “will you be my boyfriend, oppa?”. You chuckle, “will you be my girlfriend, Suyeon-ah?”. “Only if you promise to be my boyfriend and call me sweetheart all the time”, she says as the dam in her eyes finally breaks.

Love confessions usually end with a kiss and sex (at least that’s what they show on TV), but yours ends with both parties crying while hugging tightly. “Suyeon-ie must be tired of crying”, you think to yourself. You break the hug and wipe the tears off her cheek. “I love you, baby, but seeing you cry pains my heart”, you say to her. “If I get to be this happy all the time, I’ll cry until my eyes are dry, oppa—that’s a good trade in my opinion, and I’m sure you understand”, she utters, her forehead pressed against your chest.

Your roaming eyes eventually land on the boxes full of groceries, and you want to use them as an excuse so you can go up for air. “Baby, we need to put those things where they belong. Let’s continue this later, okay?”, you persuade her. Suyeon unwraps her arms ever so slowly, “but how can I express my love if we’re not touching, oppa?”. You take her hand and place it on your chest, “your love is locked tight here, honey. I’ll never forget your love”. “That’s sweet”, she comments, “okay, let’s unpack these bitches”. “Whoa, whoa, pause”, you say, “bitches? Seriously?”. Your question shorts her brain, “o-oh, uh, I meant to say boxes—sorry, oppa”. “Let’s not use such malicious term again, okay, baby?”, you peck her on the forehead after stating your request.

“Oppa, can we listen to some music?”, she asks as she fishes out some pads from the box. You chuckle, “I’m going to judge your music taste, though”. Suyeon scoffs in response, “oh, please, I know my stuff”. She runs to her phone, and you instantly hear a familiar melody playing over the speakers under her TV. “Oh, God, not this song again”, you say to yourself.

Be my only one

이렇게 부르고 싶�� 이름 내 곁에 (The name I want to call you by)

손을 잡고서 같이 걸어요 (Let’s hold hands and walk along)

비가 오는 밤에도, 외로웠던 낮에도 (On rainy nights, or on lonely daytimes)

그대 환한 빛깔을 내게 가득 칠해줘요 (Please color me with your shiny light)

내가 더 잘할게요, 이렇게 같이 있어준다면 (I’ll do better, if you stay with me like this)

You drop what you’re doing and turn to Suyeon, who is staring at her phone blankly. “Are you o—“, Suyeon interrupts your question with one of her own, “do you know how long I’ve wished I had someone by my side, oppa? Someone who doesn’t hate me but instead loves me, or wishes me nothing but the best, or-or-or—God fucking damn it, where have you been all this time, oppa? Where were you when I spent all night crying because I was so fucking tired of doing these dumbasses’ shit? Where were you when they surrounded me and called me a useless fucking bitch because I wouldn’t give them my notes? Where-where were you when Naeun-ie slapped me after class? Where on earth were you, oppa? Why weren’t you protecting me?”. Suyeon drops to her knees and starts breaking down in tears as she recounts the terrible memories and the pain they have caused.

You rush to Suyeon and hug her, offering the comfort that she desperately needs at the moment. “I’m so sorry, baby; I’m sorry I wasn’t by your side when you needed it most, but I’m here right now—I’m here for you”, you say while trying your hardest to stay solid for Suyeon. You let Suyeon cry to her heart’s content in your arms while you whisper to her ear things such as “it’s okay”, “they can’t hurt you anymore”, and “I’m here for you”. Deep inside, you promise that you’ll devote yourself to helping victims of bullying instead of wasting time fighting the bad guys. “This is my last time, Jisung-ah—I promise”, you say in your head.

“Jungwoo-oppa”, Suyeon says with trembling voice, “I know I’m pitiful and all that, but please don’t say you love me because of pity—I want to be loved with pure intentions, oppa”. “Pity led me to fighting that asshole, but it was my heart that led me to falling for you”, you say to her. “Respectfully, sweetheart, I think you’re beautiful and attractive”, you double down on the confession from earlier. Suyeon pushes you away, her mouth is open in delight and surprise, “aww really? You think I’m beautiful, oppa? You’re not lying, are you?”. You shake your head, “I think you’re beautiful, baby—again, respectfully”. Suyeon wipes her tears and chuckles, “you can stop saying respectfully, oppa. I don’t find your words to be offensive or demeaning—in fact, I like hearing you say that I’m beautiful, honey”. You grin widely, “baby, can you keep calling me that? It makes me, um, feel loved—you don’t have to, though; you can call me oppa if you want”. “You’re my boyfriend, honey, not someone who’s simply older than me”, she laughs, “I’ll use other pet names if you don’t mind”.

You pull her up to her feet so that you can continue unpacking the boxes, but apparently Suyeon has a different idea: “I want to have sex, oppa. I want to consummate our relationship”. You pat your pockets and feel that they’re empty, “I don’t have condoms with me, honey”. She shrugs, “I don’t see the problem. I’ve been taking pills anyway—look at me, I’ve been taking pills even though I was single; kinda sad, don’t you think?”. “Can I ask where you want to have sex at?”, you ask her. She puts on a confused face, “why, in bed, of course—what kind of question is that, oppa? I’m not some cheap girl who has sex anywhere, you know”.

You apologize for the dumb question and carry her to the bedroom as she wishes. “Take off your clothes, oppa; I want to watch”, she requests. You set her dead center on the bed (it’s a twin bed) and stand in the empty space in her bedroom. She drops her jaw in surprise when she sees your muscles; “my goodness, no wonder those brats didn’t stand a chance against you—that chocolate abs are hot, by the way”. “You can thank Jung Jisung for that; he was the one who convinced me to get fit”, you tell her as you take off your jeans, revealing the bulged boxers. Suyeon bites her fingers in nervousness as her eyes are locked on your crotch. “Oh my fucking God”, she gasps, “there’s no way you’re that big—anyway, my turn now”.

Suyeon stands in front of you and pull her T-shirt over her head, showing you her perfect-sized tits. She slaps your hand away when you try touching her tits, telling you to be patient. She proceeds to pull down her jeans and panties, and you see that her pussy is clean shaven, looking mega tempting. “Now I can confidently say that I shaved for my boyfriend”, she says, “what do we do now, my dear boyfriend?”.

You lie down on Suyeon’s bed and tell her to sit on your face, and she praises you for “such a brilliant idea”. She sets her thighs on both sides of your face, her pussy hanging low above your mouth. You pull her down by her thighs and instantly start working on her pussy with your mouth and tongue. Suyeon is moaning and jerking around as you keep stimulating her; “baby, that’s so good”, she says. One particular lick from you causes her to jolt and scream, so you use your big hands to hold her down, “stop moving around, will you?”. “I-I’m sorry—God, I’m so close already”, she announces that she’s almost there, so you pick up your pace and keep sucking and licking until her valves break open.

“I’M CUMMING!”, she shrieks, drenching your face in her juice as she tumbles backwards on your body. She weakly rolls over onto the bed, “I haven’t cummed that hard in so long. Thank you, baby”. “Don’t thank me yet; we’re far from done”, you tell her. “Oppa, I want to suck your cock but I don’t have the energy to get up. I’ll just lie down and have you do the work”, she says.

You respond by getting off the bed and pull Suyeon towards you until her head hangs off the edge, aiming to fuck her throat. As soon as Suyeon opens her mouth, you plunge into it right away. You patiently move your cock forwards and backwards in her mouth to warm her up. You groan in bliss when you feel Suyeon’s tongue lapping the underside of your cock, “fuck, that’s a good girl”. You can’t see her face since your cock is blocking the view, but you’d like to think she gave you a wink for the compliment.

You want to turn it up a notch as your patience has evaporated away but you don’t want to go too hard just yet, so you tell her about your intention by pushing deep past her mouth and into her throat. “You don’t gag? That’s a good girl”, you repeat the praise from earlier. As if seeing the green light, you keep fucking her mouth deep but slowly until you think that she’s ready to take a proper throat fuck. The way your cock makes her throat bulge is very arousing, “my cock is in your throat, love”. She taps your thighs repeatedly after a few thrusts, so you pull out to see if she wants to have a break. “I want your cum in my stomach, oppa—you know what to do, right?”, she tells you.

You tell her that you want to give her a throat fuck and Suyeon nods in agreement, so you go back in her mouth and go deep right away. “I hope you’re ready”, you say to her. You plant your hands on the bed and start fucking mouth fast like it was her pussy, but you still hear no gag; “very impressive, baby”, you think to yourself. You keep fucking her and bulging her throat and you wish you could keep going until the sun rises again, but orgasm is already at the door. So, you fuck her with the last drops of fuel you have in your cock and stuff your cock into her throat before blowing your first load, sending it right into her stomach.

After you’ve released all the cum you have, you retreat from her wet mouth, and you hear her gasp sharply. “I thought I was going to die, oppa”, she says, “that was the first time I’ve had my throat fucked like that”. “Sorry, I know this is your private matter, but can I ask how many guys you have had sex with?”, you ask. “You’re my second, babe”, she says, “but believe me when I say that I wish you had been my first, because that guy was an asshole—his dick didn’t compare to yours, by the way. What about you? How many girls have been lucky to have your cock?”. “One girl before you, sorry”, you scratch the back of your head apologetically. “Eh, just one, that’s fine. I would cry if you said you’ve had a dozen”, she says before repositioning herself on the bed. She then eyes your cock that is still hard and erect and points at it, “I believe we aren’t done yet”. You backtrack to her previous comment before joining her in bed, “I hadn’t been attractive at all until I met Jung Jisung; there was no way I could’ve had a dozen girls before you, love”.

“That’s enough talk, oppa. Come here and make love to me, please”, she says. You join her in bed and get on top, “you’re so pretty, baby”. She blushes hearing you say it, “thank you for being so kind all the time, oppa. I-I love you”. You smile as you aim your cock at her entrance, “I’ll show you how much I love you”. You start moving forward into Suyeon’s warm and tight pussy, earning a soft moan from her. “You’re so tight, love”, you comment, basking in the sensation. “Ah, hah—only for you, oppa—fu-fuck, so big”, she replies. Hearing her praise your size fuels the fire of lust in your head and with it, you pick up the pace and fuck her faster, making her moan and scream in the process.

You keep up the tempo until you hear an oddly loud scream from her; “I’M CUMMING AGAIN—FUCK!”. You stop your pumps and pray to God that her room is somewhat soundproofed, because it’d be very awkward if her neighbor called the police on you for this. She twists and turns as the high of orgasm shorts her body and mind, and you patiently wait without pulling out, taking the time to sort out your breaths. “Oppa, oppa”, she calls out with her eyes closed, “you’re so good to me—so fucking good”. “You’re so good too, love; you’re so fucking tight”, you praise her. “I’m just me, oppa; it’s you that’s just so big”, she pulls you down towards her, “can I have your cum again?”. You nod and start fucking her again while maintaining the hugging position.

“I’m so close, love. Where do you want it?”, you ask her. “Ah, ah, hah—w-which part of I’ve been taking pills d-did—oh, fuck me—did you not un-derstand, oppa?”, she says. You release your cum into her pussy with a deep groan, and the warmth of your cum makes her let out a long moan. “No, stay”, she says when you try to pull out, “you would’ve made me pregnant if I wasn’t on pills”. “It—hah, God—it would be reckless to make you pregnant”, you reply. “Don’t worry, oppa; I’ll make sure I don’t lose my perfect physique during pregnancy”, she says with a giggle. You chuckle, “maybe we’ll get you pregnant one day, but that day isn’t today, love”.

You retreat from her pussy the moment she unwraps her legs from around your waist, and your cum instantly leaks out onto the bed. “Glad it’s still as thick; I would hate to disappoint”, you say as you inspect the result of your work. “Can I have a taste, oppa? You sent that first straight to my belly and I couldn’t taste it”, Suyeon says. You slather your index finger with your cum and bring it to her mouth; “mm, salty. I like it”, she comments.

“Oppa, I love you”, she says, seemingly out of nowhere during the cuddle, “stay with me, okay?”. You peck the top of her head, “I’ll stay with you and protect you until you’re sick of me, love”. She laughs out loud, “how can I be sick of you, oppa? You’re kind, you’re handsome, and you have a big cock; that’s everything a girl ever wants from her partner—promise me to not be violent again, though. As much as I think Lee Taewon deserved it, I hated that you resorted to that”. You sigh as you think about the memory from earlier, “I’m sorry that you had to see that, love. I promise I’ll work on it, okay? Let’s get some sleep now”.

Instead of closing her eyes to go to bed, Suyeon jumps off the bed and makes to leave the bedroom instead, “no, I need to study. Thanks for the sex, oppa, it’ll help me focus”. You follow her out of the bedroom and see that she’s already sitting at the dining table with a laptop in front of her, “you’re not going to put anything on?”. “No, I want some more after this”, she says with a wink.

“Who would’ve thought someone who had been in such a terrible situation would turn out to be such a sex bomb?”, you think to yourself, “I guess bullying does mess up people’s head more than I knew”.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #billlie smut #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader smut #male reader

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yeloenk · 9 days ago

Note

I WANNA KNOW MORE ABT UR CROSS CCINO I AM INVESTED PLZ

GRABS YOU AND SHAKES YOU AROUND

where do i even.. start.... oh my goodness

OKAY so,, cross and ccino. first i'll go over how i think they would meet, then i'll go over how their relationship would be like.

i think cross, after the whole x-event is resolved, is now left without purpose. he doesn't know what to do; he tries to fit in with the other omega timeline residents, but he feels wrong and out of place after everything that he did. he feels undeserving of a "real home"—plus, the omega timeline feels too restrictive to him. since he was a multiversal threat not too long ago, he was put under rules & observation. it reminded him way too much of being controlled by X-Gaster, so he takes off to figure out things on his own.

he drifts from au to au for a while, trying to find one that sticks. when he stumbles across fluffytale, the weird friendliness/calmness of it draws him in.

i won't delve into the story i have for them too much after this point (i'm currently writing a fic about it!!!) but long story short, cross begins working with ccino at the cafe.

FROM THERE !!! from there, their relationship is verryyy slow. cross is super hesitant about opening up about anything; at first, he dodges any personal questions from ccino. but over time, he grows more and more comfortable with him and sharing bits about himself. he slowly learns what it's like to be safe and happy again.

now, ccino. since ccino and nightmare are or were canon at some point in fluffytale, i believe ccino would be left with.. quite a bit of trauma from the relationship. he struggles a LOT with his self worth and motivation; he puts on a nonchalant, "happy" front to his customers. i think he would struggle taking care of himself, and would make self deprecating jokes to cope. he often misses meal times, making up excuses for himself. but, cross kinda sees right through his act, and can tell something's up.

cross would get ccino to let his walls down; it takes a while, because ccino is terrified of being vulnerable to another person again. he's afraid he'll be hurt again, he's afraid he isn't and never will be enough for cross. since cross was under nightmare's influence at one point, he has that to emphasize with ccino & make him feel better about himself.

they are a SLOWburn friends to lovers with miscommunication and mutual pining,,, they both think they aren't good enough for the other before one confesses giggle!!!!!

they both help each other see the best in themselves, and learn what it means to have safe love again. AND YEEWAHAHGGSHSGHS THEY MAKE ME SICKKKKKK SOBBING ON THE FLOOR I LOVE THEMEEMMM!!!!! i wanna share more of my thoughts about their story but again i dont wanna spoil the fic im cooking up

ALSO. I HAVE A SPOTIFY PLAYLIST FOR THEM. yoooouu should totes check it out if u wanna,,, hehe

link

im a freak about them. can you tell

#yelorambles #utmv #undertale #undertale au #sans undertale #underverse #xpresso #cross sans #ccino sans #fluffytale #cross x ccino #ccino x cross #asks

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aliorsboxostuff · 5 months ago

Text

I went insane on this self indulgent run in trying to get back into writing so here, a House x Wilson and Male!Reader son fic cuz i see House as a.... complicated figure in my life 💀

Menace

Tags: Greg House/James Wilson, Son!Reader, A/B/O Dynamic, Alpha!House, Alpha!Wilson, Alpha!Reader, Younger Reader, Allison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman, Lisa Cuddy, Fluff, Crack, No Smut, for shits and giggles, idk abt hospital rules whoops, inaccurate medical terms, medical malpractice, malpractice MD, Established Relationship, Between S1-S3

All those 'Wilson has a Wife at home!' thing was all an innuendo. They're married. and they have.... a son? Come read as the ducklings find out how much of their boss's life they missed!

It was early in the morning.

Foreman had just entered the office while Chase was eating a bagel. Cameron was making her morning tea and the three were catching up over the weekend. They saw Dr. Wilson passing by and they waved at him, the man nodded and smiled shortly before he continued to his office. Chase says something about last week's case which Foreman laughs at, Cameron rolls her eyes before she takes a seat at the filing desk.

“We’re only starting the day and you're already filing down House’s stuff?” Chase tilts his head with a smirk, the brunette sighs while her hands are busy with a group of blue files.

“It’s not like he ever does it himself,” She answers as she sits. “Might as well chip around it,”

The computer boots up slowly when Foreman approaches the mountain of files. He picks one up and flips it open, his face scrunches in confusion. “This was… 2 months ago?”

Foreman levels his colleague with a stare at which Cameron only sighs. He deems it a suitable answer so he drops the file, busying himself with Chase instead.

Half an hour into meddling about, waiting for their boss to arrive, a sharp knock breaks the team's attention from each other's conversation.

Standing outside their meeting room is someone they're unfamiliar with. Not someone new to their department judging by their leisurely clothes, it went straight to someone fresh out of high school. However, what caught them off-guard was the jacket the man was wearing. It was House’s jacket.

They have a tall stature, though with how they’re slightly bowing his head, he levels just at Foreman's height. Something about his eyes resembles too much of a doctor they know, sending a shiver down Chase’s spine.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, is this Dr. House’s office?” He asks, a small unsure smile on his lips. Foreman cocks a brow while Cameron and Chase shared a look.

The boy blinks, holding a file folder in his hand. “I was just told to bring this to his office,”

He shakes the file slightly, his friendly smile unwavering. Cameron was the first to blink and immediately shuffled to handle the folder. When she approaches the boy, he stands straight once his anxiety ebbs out, and something oddly familiar suddenly flashes through her. The boy's scent has the burnt woody undertone House has. Her brain quickly connected it with House’s jacket he was currently supporting yet it was too strong and just different enough to not be another Alpha’s scent that stuck to the boy. Cameron subtly breathes to confirm it's the boy's scent. She stutters through her words, “I-i’ll get this through to him, he uh- he hasn't arrived yet,”

“Oh I know,“ He waves a hand. “I'm only here for a visit but I ran into Dr. Cuddy and she handed me this, she said she’s too busy to bother him herself,”

The boy laughs, a slight crinkle on the bridge of his nose. Cameron had to choke back a gasp, suddenly digging blunt nails into the case folder. The whole room was silent aside from the melodic laugh. The laughter dies down eventually as the boy gathers himself.

“Well that's my only reason to be here, I should get going,” he nods politely and bids them a short goodbye before leaving the room.

Another beat of silence.

Chase perks up. “I wasn't the only one that thought that was odd… right?”

“Why was he so…”

“Tall? Yeah, I got that too,” Foreman continued Cameron's question.

“Yes that but, who- did you guys hear what he said? When I said House wasn't here yet he said ‘Oh I know’,” Cameron drops the file on their meeting table. “How does he know?”

“Better question; was that House’s jacket?” Chase points an accusatory finger in the direction the boy went.

“Hooker?” Foreman tries, immediately shut down by Cameron.

“House hasn't gone into rut yet,” She reasons, standing her ground.

“Hey Alphas don't need a nice dicking down when they’re just on ruts y’know,” Chase crosses his arms. “Foreman's right, he could've been someone he slept with,”

“But that kid is way too young!”

“We can't assume our boss’ type, Cameron,” Foreman smirks. “He might like someone years younger than him!”

“Seriously? Chase’s the one that kissed a child,” Chase immediately gasps, hands flying up at what his colleague said.

“It was one time! And she was dying for god’s sake!”

The two laughs, while Chase rolls his eyes before huffing. “None of this still doesn't explain who that guy was,”

“And he smells… almost like House too,” Foreman blinks at his confusion. The three doctors continuously stared at each other, sharing glances as if it would yield an answer to their questions. Cameron looks back to the door, then to the case file, before deciding to open it. She reads the case and Cuddy was right, it’s interesting enough that House would find interest in it but…

“He mentioned Cuddy, didn't he?” Cameron immediately announces. The two men pauses, before the realization hits them. They were about to exit the office when suddenly House stood between them and the door, motorcycle helmet in hand, donned in his usual leather jacket.

He stares at his team, all supporting various degrees of surprise and confusion before he rolls his eyes. “I’ve only arrived and you’re already going out to run tests?”

His team is still dead silent. House huffs before barging past them and dropping his bag atop the piles of folders.

“Gimme here,” House reaches out for the file Cameron is still clutching. “Cuddy says this one will blow my cane off,” His voice heightens in pitch, mimicking Cuddy herself.

Cameron reluctantly gives the file to her boss, the Beta watching for signs of anything from House. As the Alpha starts reading the file, his team slowly files into their normal seating. The room’s tension was apparent, especially annoying to House as he practically felt it with his sense of smell. He looks up from the file, fixing the group with a glowering stare. “Did you all see a ghost or did I miss the memo of being mute for the day?”

“We uh-” Cameron starts “It's just… Someone came by, he was the one that gave us the file…”

“Huh,” He pauses before raising a brow. “I must be losing my annoying Cuddy streak, she didn't even come by to give it herself,”

House shrugs and drops the file onto the table with a slap! “But she was right, this is an interesting case…” He turns to his board, his cane thuds dully. “Differential diagnosis, go.”

—

The next time the group spotted the mysterious boy, he was leaving Dr. Wilson's office in the middle of the day.

They had just finished going out for lunch, walking together when they saw the door to the Oncologist's office open to reveal the boy they had seen earlier. A wide smile on his face and an equally glowing smile from Wilson was what shocked the group. They know Wilson as a very patient and empathetic man, but to see him smile so carefree it almost scared the three.

Foreman was reluctant but Chase pulled at his coat first which led them into hiding behind a corner, ears pressed to hear what Dr. Wilson and the boy were conversing about.

“You should’ve seen their faces,” The boy laughs, House’s jacket draped over his arm.

“They’ve never seen you come by before, I'm sure they were pleasantly confused,” Wilson replies, a coy smile on his lips as he pats the boy’s shoulder.

“Maybe I should visit you two more often,” His tone was light, his head tilting at the request. They hear Wilson repress a laughter before it chokes out as a short chuckle.

“If you’re not too busy, we won't mind seeing you here,” Wilson nods. “Just anywhere but the ER, got it?”

At that, the boy sighs though it seems to be out of fondness if the softness of the man's next word could be an indication for the three; “I won't, I promise,”

“Then we’ll see you at home,”

“Awh but I'm bored! I don't wanna go home yet!” The two laugh.

They immediately plaster themselves to the wall, Chase’s eyes wide while Cameron’s eyes shoot in different directions as if connecting invisible strings. Foreman sighs, wiping a hand across his face, before concluding. “A polycule?”

“A- What?” Chase balks. “You think Wilson and House and that guy…?”

“It makes sense, right? They share living spaces,”

“Wilson keeps saying ‘we’ I think he does mean it’s him and House.”

Chase and Cameron cross arms simultaneously. “I can see House and Wilson being together.” the brunette concludes.

Chase blinks before he turns to the girl. “Sure but House only has eyes, and love for Wilson, what makes you think that–”

Suddenly, all three of their pagers beep and god for once they wished their patient stayed stable. They quickly made their way to the room, passing by Wilson and the boy, the two sparing a glance at the hurried steps of the three before they turned back towards each other.

—

“Is House and Wilson in a polyamorous relationship?”

Cuddy blinks, closing the patient file slowly and placing it atop her desk. Her eyes glance up to meet Camerons. She manages a tired glare that only works on anyone but House, though it seems he’s been teaching his ducklings bad habits because Cameron only stood and crossed her arms, which makes the dean of medicine raise a brow.

“What makes you think I’d know that information, Dr. Cameron?”

She shrugs. “You’re closest to them. They tell you first before us, and aren't you always on top of coworkers dating each other and all-”

“Yes, but that's in case it’ll affect the efficiency of our work. House and Wilson-”

“Are an exception?” Cameron’s eyes widen inquisitively. Cuddy promptly rolls her eyes.

“No. House and Wilson would be the last person to inform me of their relationship,”

“And why aren't you asking them anyway? I wouldn't want to butt into whatever those two alphas are doing,” Cuddy shakes her head, placing her attention back into her files before Cameron sighs.

“Because we saw a kid earlier this morning. Not a staff, not a student. We don't even know who he is but he was wearing House’s jacket and talking with Wilson.”

“So? Someone could be House’s hooker and Wilson’s patient-”

“He said he knew you. You gave him a patient file for House because you were too preoccupied to give him yourself!”

Cameron shot her arms up, exasperated, while the woman sitting in front of her deadpans. Suddenly, Cuddy’s brows furrow, before she belts out a laugh, tapping the hilt of her pen to her desk. The ímmunologist blinks, her arms hovering lamely, confused and slightly scared by what Cuddy is about to say.

Cuddy steadies herself, before easily replying. “Oh him. Yeah that's House and Wilsons’s son.”

“... What?” Cuddy will have to check the cameras later because the shocked face Cameron supported before running out of her office was priceless.

—

House and Wilson were in the diagnostician's office. The boy was leaning on the wall between them, the two doctors sat face to face, divided by House’s desk. They were enjoying a cup of coffee, House had his patient's MRI results in his hands and went over it with Wilson, seeing as his ducklings were off doing tests.

House figured it would be another hour before they bothered him again when his expectations plummeted by the three bursting into his office.

“You have a son?!” Chase shouts.

“He’s your son?!” Cameron pointed at the surprised boy.

“You two are together?!” Foreman motions between House and Wilson.

House groans loudly. Wilson looks to the side. The boy takes a slow sip from his cup.

The diagnostician drops the MRI scans, promptly putting his legs down from the desk, annoyance evident in his frown. “Yes, yes and yes– I thought I sent you three to do blood tests,” He extends a hand. “I’m assuming it’s done so now give it,”

“The results will be done in another hour. You never bothered to tell us?”

“You all never bothered to ask,” House replies easily. He grabs his cane and stands, making his way to stand between Wilson and the lanky boy. House’s son.

“For a group of diagnosticians you three are really bad at picking up very obvious hints,” He sighs. “Especially you, Chase. You’ve worked with me for years now! I'm very disappointed in you young man.”

“Wha- How should I know? You and Wilson were always this weird… Thing,” His hand flairs to gesture to the two doctors. “And you never brought the kid around!”

“That's because he was in high school,” Wilson shrugs. “A lot of after-school programs,”

He replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. The three doctors are still standing dumbfounded. House supports a smirk before he brings the boy to stand beside him, an arm around his shoulders.

“Everyone, meet me and Wilson's adopted son.” The kid laughs slightly, waving at the group. “Oh and yes, me and Wilson are together, in case you all didn't get that,”

“You two are married?!” “Oh yes, til death do us part and all, the whole gimmick,”

Wilson sighs. “Gimmick it may be, you still cried that day,”

“And you’re going to blackmail me, Wilson? Oh you wound me, pookie,” House pouts at the Oncologist at which he raises a brow.

“Wait wait-” Foreman shakes his head. “You never wore a ring and- Only Wilson does!”

“Im allergic to gold,” House sneezes when the said ring Wilson’s supporting glints. “It also doesn't match my edgy, cool doctor outfit,”

The boy beside him laughs, shaking his head. “You’re lame, Dad. Lame, not cool,”

“My own family is against me!” Wilson chuckles at House’s reply, which also makes his son laugh louder. A beat of warm laughter before Cameron pushes another question.

“Is- is this true?” He gestures towards the boy. He smiles, patting House’s hand that's still resting comfortably on his shoulder.

“Yes. I am Dr. House’s and Dr. Wilson’s son. A couple of months after they got married, they adopted me. I’m pretty sure I was in middle school when they took me in,” He smiles, glancing between his parents. “I’ve been with them ever since.”

“It’s semester break right now, so rather than spending my time at home, i’d rather bother my dad’s here at work. I won't bother you all!”

The boy flashes a false smile suddenly. “No promises though.”

Cameron sighs. “Oh god there's two of you…”

House met his son's eyes. Something glints between them, before the two Alphas turn to the group sharply. House levels them with a smug stare while his son grins, all sharp teeth and menace, the two oozing dangerous dominant pheromones. Cameron and Chase locks up, Foreman only sighs at the two’s display. Wilson, still sat with his warm mug in hand, only sighs and rolls his eyes. If his husband and son is going to scare the shit out of the diagnostic department, he might as well enjoy the spectacle. It’s not like his son would stay here for long, he’ll get bored eventually and spend his break elsewhere, right?

What happens in the next couple of weeks into his son's break would prove him wrong.

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#house md #greg house x james wilson #house x wilson #house/wilson #dr house #gregory house #hilson #hilson fanfiction #malpractice md #james wilson x gregory house #james wilson #male!reader #kid fic #fanfic #alpha beta omega #a/b/o dynamics

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pinkeos · 7 months ago

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AFAB!Sunday x AMAB!Reader || 18+ MDNI

Warning/s: SMUT, fingering, face riding, cunnilingus

Notes: so uhhh remember my other post abt sunday yeahh the thoughts took over im not even done writing my fremi fic yet the silly is distracting me😭

Golden eyes watched as the liquid swirled gently inside the glass, his gloved hand absentmindedly twirling the champagne glass. He watched from a distance as the many members of the Family and other esteemed guests mingled in the ballroom.

Sunday, being the head of the Oak Family, understandably had to tend to and strike up friendly conversation with the guests to keep the pristine image of being the welcoming child of Harmony that he is. However, everyone had their limits, of course he had limits too.

The Halovian had excused himself from the guests, waving off Robin’s concern when the girl asked if he was alright, and opted to watch from the sidelines, still present in case any sort of problem arose. Not that it would, though, as he made sure everything would be under his control tonight, that the event would run smoothly.

Or that's what he thought at least.

“If it isn't Mr Sunday.” Your voice, too familiar for his ears to miss, sounded.

He turned to face you, that ever so charming smile on your face present. Sunday hated the fact that his eyes immediately traveled to your suit, how it was tailored to fit your body just right, to show off your shoulders and waist. Your sly eyes glinted with something he couldn't quite put a finger on.

But what he was sure about, however, was that he hated you.

Because he couldn't keep you under control.

The man’s lips curled up in a smile, too fake and forced for your eyes not to notice, “Greetings. I wasn't expecting you tonight.”

“Robin was the one to invite me.”

Sunday fought the urge to outright frown. Of course it was Robin. His sister was fond of you, treating you like her bestest friend. And it wasn't just Robin, unfortunately. A number of people in Penacony were enchanted by you.

And he was too.

Sunday nodded, offering you his hand for a handshake, “I see. It's been quite a while since we’ve crossed paths. It delights me to know you’ve been alright.”

Wrong.

It wasn't that long since you’ve seen each other. In fact, the last time you saw each other was last night.

Sunday’s eyebrows furrowed, cheeks dusted with a light dust of red as his hand clutched onto your shoulder. You laid sideways beside him, cradling his body with one arm while the other was busily pumping your fingers inside of his dripping cunt.

“You sound so angelic, Sunday. Why don't you moan more for me?” You mused.

The Halovian glared at you, as if wanting to defy you as he kept his lips shut. His display of resistance only amused you even more. You were completely clothed, the opposite to the shorter man who was bare with his legs spread apart.

It was a completely different feeling from what he usually felt. With the high position he had, he obviously held dominance. But he was nothing but a moaning mess in your arms, hips grinding down against your hand, silently wanting more but too embarrassed to ask. He felt so vulnerable.

The noises that came from your fingers exploring his insides were too lewd, so wet and sinful. His legs quivered, eyes widening and wings flapping slightly when your fingers curled and hit that spongy spot inside him that sent intense pleasure over his body.

From the way his body jolted, you could tell you hit the right spot. His face twisted into that of euphoria, whines slipping past his lips. He looked so good and cute that you couldn't help yourself.

Your lips captured his swollen ones, tongue invading and exploring every inch of his mouth.

You took his gloved hand in yours, but instead of shaking it as he expected you would, you flipped it and placed a kiss on the back of his hand. This caused the man to pull his hand back, face heating up as he lightly pulled on his collar as if it would help lessen the rising heat.

“We’re in public.” He scolded, turning away from you to face forward again, hoping no one would see.

“No one’s looking.” You retorted, stepping closer to the man, and leaning down to whisper in his ear, “You look so adorable when you worry, it makes me want to devour you.”

He whipped his head towards you, eyes wide in disbelief and cheeks red. How could you say that in public? When others could possibly hear you?

Sunday’s hand covered his mouth, his other hand gripping the headboard of his bed, fingers turning white with how hard he gripped it. His wings had adorable folded over to cover the lower part of his face as if that would help him lessen his moans.

But when a loud slap echoed throughout the room, he jerked forward, a whine leaving his mouth. His wide eyes filled with lust and arousal looked down to where you were between his legs.

You pulled away from his pussy, licking your lips to sever the thin line of saliva connecting your lips to him, “What did I tell you?”

He turned away, ashamed, “T-to moan for you.”

“So do it. Or I’ll stop.” You demanded.

From the look in your eyes, he could tell it wasn't an empty threat. You were always a man of your word, after all.

His answer was too quick for his own liking, “D-don’t…”

You raised an eyebrow, a lopsided smile on your face, waiting.

His wings flapped, the blush on his cheeks darkening, “Please… please don't.”

“Good boy.”

He felt relief wash over his being when you took a hold of his hips, bringing him down to connect your lips with his cunt again, slurping up his arousal and guiding his hips to grind against your face. His lips parted in a loud moan when your tongue entered his hole, his legs pressing against either side of your head, just the way you liked it.

“So, what do you say, Mr Sunday?” You offered him your hand, “Care for a good time?”

His amber eyes lingered on your outstretched hand for a moment, the memories of last night playing in his mind of how much pleasure took over him that it was almost like he wasn't himself, that he wasn't the esteemed head of the Oak Family. He was your good boy.

Wordlessly, the man slid his hand into yours and it wasn't long before you'd whisked him away to a secluded part of the building.

Ending note: the things I would do to this man🏃

#hsr #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #sunday #hsr sunday #sunday x male reader #sunday x male reader smut #honkai star rail #hsr sunday x male reader

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nyxi-pixie · 3 months ago

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Hiiiii.

Sorry to bother you, I wanted to know if you had any fic recs? Your writing is so good and your tastes are immaculate, and I am starving for any kind of good content. Please?

its not possible to bother me love dw <3

NOW. i dont actually read all that much anymore bc i am horrendously picky but this does give me an excuse to hype up the few authors that have satisfied my unreasonably specific tastes 🤩.

so. a few bsd recs for you (except theyre 99% skk because im horribly predictable forever). everyone go read all of these and tell the authors how wonderful they are in the comments please <3

anything @booksandpaperss has ever written is genius work and everyone should read it. could talk abt all of their stuff for hours (and i have🤩 they put up w so much of me bothering them godbless). also our brains do some accidental crazy mind melding shit whenever either of us write fic so if you like any of my stuff you will like theirs. thats the rules. <3

like twin stars in the dark (we collide)- dead apple skk porn as a vehicle for 22skk analysis. makes me salivate i have read it so many times. they get 22skk better than anyone🙏

my lies are for you to keep (my love for you to lose) - the only take on beastskk that matters to me ever. you can actually see me losing my mind in the comment i wrote on this fic bc of how fucking insane every single line made me. theres SO much packed into this thing its fucking crazy i NEEEEED everyone to read it. thats all <3

till death, I'll give you my breath - dazai death timeloop. this fic terrifies me so much i await every update with my teeth chattering and my heart pulsing so rapidly i should be hospitalised. the first scene of chapter 2 genuinely had me on the verge of tears im unwell about it.

(elli also has some jjk stuff thats REALLYREALLY good and if ur into jjk u should check that out too.)

NOW. aside from being a propaganda machine for my fav writer ever. Heres some other stuff i love.

the second perspective by @wildflowerteas. murder mystery/detective noir stuff w some time fuckery. the au of all time. mashes aspects of beast, canon, and some extra special niko sauce into a mixing bowl and goes crazy w it. just Such a genuinely impressive piece of writing. i could talk abt the technical brilliance of it for hours but i will stop myself. you gotta commit to this thing because it WILL make u crazy. also i loveee the sskk. its like if we had the beast first meeting sskk forever. SOSO GOOD!!!!

did fate guide the gun or did you? by @kanetheo. i read this pretty soon after chapter 109 and it genuinely fried my brain for months. the writing style is beautiful (as for everything they write AUGHH!!!) and the angst is delectable. the way it intersperses more fun silly skk moments with just. complete misery. GOD. it just hits. ive reread it quite a few times and it never fails to make me go crazy. srsly cannot rec this enough.

the decomposition of dazai osamu by @hella1975 this shot several bullets through my brain and i still havent recovered. i keep thinking 'oh i should reread that' and then i dont bc some part of my brain still concerns itself w maintaining whats left of my sanity. BUT its crazy good and everyone should read it and suffer at least once. EVERYONE LOVES YOU OSAMU!!!! EVERYONE EATS YOU!!! line of all time lets all kill ourselves.

smoke held conversations by feralrookie - i havent reread this in a while but it does cool stuff with nlh and the skkisms are really good in this too. ppl often write teen chuuya as less intelligent than he actually is. hes very observant, esp of dazai, and this fic gave me that 🙏

i called your name til the fever broke by forest_raccoon - vampire chuuya. biting is involved. i blacked out reading it. enough said.

#most of my motivation to write is bc there isnt enough of what i want to read bc im cursed w being the most picky fic reader ever #but this stuff is all sooo good and everyone should read it #ALSO anonnnn<33 im glad u like my writing teehee🥰#asks #soukoku #soukoku fanfiction #skk fanfic #bsd fic recs

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friendsoup · 11 months ago

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WHEN I TELL YOU I WAS ON THE FLOOR READING THE SOBER THOUGHTS FIC⁇⁇⁇⁇⁇⁇⁇⁇ IT WAS SO GOOD ESP FOR MEDICINE POCKET.... WOULD IT BE ALRIGHT TO ASK FOR A PART 2 TO IT? like how reader finally sobers up but doesn't exactly remember what had happened after they got hit with diggers atk until pocket and dikke explain it to them ⎯ bla bla BLAH reader is flustered and embarrassed, frantically trying to hide away and make excuses for their actions even though they were completely pure truths of their affections towards them, and even going as far as to say "Pretend it never happened/you didn't hear it!" how wld pocket and dikke react ... or more like, return reader's feelings while also being embarrassed abt the situation

Sober Thoughts Pt 2

Recipe: Romantic fluff, Proper confessions, Hungover! Reader, Reader x Medicine Pocket, Reader x Dikke, GN! Reader, Devoted Dikke, Playfully teasing Medicine

WC: 1,979 (one day I'll get 1999)

Chef's Note: OUGH sorry this took so long!!! I'm working on like. 3 fics at once. I just happened to finish this one first lmao. I hope it's what you were looking for! I certainly had fun writing it!

The first thing that comes to you is the pounding in your head.

It feels like someone’s beating you with a hammer, a dull thud banging over and over again into your temples. Your brain feels like it’s being squeezed, making it hard to think, or comprehend anything but the pain. Has it always hurt so much to live?

Against all better reasoning, you attempt to open your eyes. Slowly, they peel open, instantly flooded by the lights and colors of your room. It feels like a stab to the eyeballs, your head throbbing in response. You groan, squeezing your eyes shut. Since when does seeing hurt to do? “You’re awake.” You hear a familiar voice say. Cautiously, you turn your head again, peeking out of one eye. And there they are. Medicine Pocket, sitting right next to your bed. Their hair is undone, falling over their shoulders in a messy cascade. Their eyes look tired, but they’re still managing to pull a smile. “You’ve given everyone quiiiiite the heart attack.” They chuckle, poking your forehead. “Come on, sit up. I have some water for you.” That is music to your ears.

You scooch upwards, your sore muscles screaming at you to stop. It feels like you’ve just ran a marathon, your body inexplicably pained by… something. Something you can’t quite remember. Medicine shoves a cool glass of water in your hands, and instantly you feel better. Just the cold touch of the glass is enough to relax you, and when you put the glass to your lips? The relief is like no other. You gulp it down greedily, finishing the cup in a matter of seconds. You hand it back to Medi, feeling slightly better.

“Bunny Bunny has something she calls a ‘hangover cure’ that she’s cooking up for you.” Medi states, snorting. “Apparently it’s popular. Both Pavia and Centurion swear by it.” You can barely comprehend what they’re saying, your mind swimming in pain. But the sound of their voice is comforting. You’re glad they’re here, next to you, during this time of need. However, there’s something on your mind. “What… what happened last night?” Your confusion makes Medi burst out into laughter. You writhe in pain as the sound hits your ears, the shrill laughter doing nothing for your headache. You shrink down into your bed, hitting your head against the pillow as you prepare for something terrible to come out their mouth. “You got hit by one of Diggers’ bubbles.” Medi explains between laughter. “You were out of it.” You groan, bits and pieces returning to you. “When we got you to the suitcase, you nearly fell face first down the stairs. I had to catch you.” “Nooooo…” “You started petting Pickles, then broke into tears over how fluffy he was.” “Noooooooooo, don’t remind mee…” You hide your face under the covers. “You sang karaoke with Regulus. I have it on camera.” “Nooo you don’t! Pocket, come oooon…” “You also told me you loved me.” You freeze, suddenly tensing. Surely you didn’t… did you? “Oh.” Is all that can escape you. “That’s…” You bite your lip, not knowing what else to say. “You said I’m smart, and skilled in battle, and stupidly beautiful.” They trail on.

Your face feels as if it’s on fire. You want them to stop, yet you can’t make the words.

“You said you think about me at night, and that every time I look at you I set you on fire.” “Please, please stop!” You beg, tears beginning to well in your eyes. You can’t stand the teasing any longer, it’s too much. “Just forget about it, alright?! I wasn’t in my right mind. I was out of it! Just act like it never happened, okay?!”

Medi flinches back at your sudden resistance. You’ve never snapped back at their teasing before. This was new. Had they accidentally hit a nerve?

“Hey, I’m-” “No, just stop! I know you want to continue to make fun of me, but I can’t take it! Everything hurts, and I ruined our friendship, and I just want to be left alone so I can rot forever!” You sob, tears rushing from your eyes now. Your head pounds further, but nothing hurts as bad as the tear in your heart. “[Name]!” Medi exclaims. “I’m sorry!” “You’re…” You wipe your face with your blanket. “What?” “I’m sorry. For teasing you.” Medi rubs at their neck, staring at the ground. “I didn’t know you’d be a big baby about it. I’m sorry.” You blink. For as long as you’ve known Medicine Pocket, they’ve never apologized. You didn’t think it was possible for them to. That they’d explode if they ever tried. Though it wasn’t the most ideal apology, it was more than what you were used to from them. “But.” Medi continued, slowly. “I can’t just forget about it. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you’ve said.” A blush falls upon their cheeks. “[Name], you make me happy. Like, really happy. There’s something about your idiotic face that makes it hard for me to think straight. I’ve never… I’ve never really felt that before. For anyone. It’s weird and confusing, and sometimes I think I hate it. But I want to be with you. Even if it’s just for a bit.” “Medicine…” You look up at them, eyes as round as saucers. “Yeah?” They ask, catching their breath. “You picked the worst time to confess!” You break into a smile, wincing at the sudden movement. “Really? While I’m hungover of all things?” You reach out a hand, playfully pushing them away. “At least I’m not doing it mid-battle! Like some of us.” They playfully whap you back, a smirk returning to their face.

The two of you laugh, before falling into a pleasant silence. “I’d like to give us a shot, [Name].” Medi says, bashfully looking towards you. “I’d like that too.”

Drunk Words pt 2

You have a nightmare that night. In your dream, a large eagle with red eyes stares daggers into you, while you attempt to escape from it’s twisted forest.

No matter where you turn, it’s always ahead of you, it's bird face full of hatred. You duck under branches, twist between trees, and hide under brush, but you can still feel it’s glare wherever you go. Always lurking.

Always ahead. You wake with a start.

The first thing you notice is that you’re covered in sweat. Your clothes stick to your body, making it nearly impossible to move and breathe. It’s a gross sensation, nearly unbearable, made worse by the fact that it’s paired with a killer headache.

Your head pounds, your stomach churns, and everything feels hot and close. You feel as though there’s been a great pressure placed on you, and it’s slowly crushing you into the bed. You force yourself to sit up, wiping your wet forehead with an equally wet arm. Your vision is hazy, blurred and swirling as the room rocks around you. It takes you a moment to realize that you’re in your room. And that there’s someone at the door. The eyes from your nightmare fall upon you, as blank and as cruel as you remember them to be. You flinch back, then flinch again at the pain, as your head spins in confusion. Wait. You know that red glare! “Dikke?” You ask. You didn’t realize it until now, but your mouth is horribly dry. It feels like someone shoved cotton into your jaw and left you to choke. “Yes, M’lord?” Dikke asks, standing up a bit straighter. “What are you doing in my room?” Dikke’s face goes red, her eyes falling to the floor. “Making sure you’re protected, M’lord. I couldn’t be too careful.” Now, you might be out of it, but you’re pretty sure there’s no threats nearby. What the hell was Dikke talking about? “From…what?”

Dikke’s face grows more embarrassed, as she lowers her head now, trying to shield her expression. “You see, you were… compromised last night. You were in a vulnerable state. I had to make sure you got the rest you needed to recover, and that no one took advantage of your stupor.” Well that was at least sweet. You think. Not that you suspect anyone in the suitcase would really do that. The worst would be Tennant, who’d probably try to swindle any remaining money out of you. But other than that? You trusted the people you worked with.

Slowly, memories return. “Oh,” You groan, the cause of all this hitting you like a freight train. “I got hit by one of Diggers’ bubbles, didn’t I?” You sigh, dragging your fingers through your hair. “I didn’t do anything too embarrassing, did I?”

Dikke shakes her head. “You wanted to go out and, uh, socialize, but I put an end to that. Once we got back, I made you dress and go straight to bed. To prevent any further harm from being done.” You sigh in relief. “That’s good. Thank you, Dikke.” “Except- there was one thing.”

Oh no.

“You…” She stumbles over the first word, you can see she’s struggling to get it all out. “You told me that… Well, the thing is, you said something. And I… I’m simply wondering… Ah, no, that’s not it.” You lean forward, intrigued by the hesitation. “You told me that you loved me.” She finishes, giving a pitiful look to you. “Gah! What? I did?” You exclaim. You don’t remember that at all! “How- What- Huh?” “It was not a full confession.” Dikke admits. “You told me that I was beautiful, and then exclaimed ‘I love you’. But you were quite out of it…” Her expression twists between sad and expectant. It’s clear that she wants you to say something, but you aren’t sure what. “I probably didn’t mean it in a romantic way!” Probably? God, could you be any less convincing?! “I probably just meant it as a friend thing! You know? How friends call each other beautiful and stuff?” You’re sweating bullets all over again, making the bed even more uncomfortable. “Ah.” Dikke looks quite defeated, her gaze returning to the ground. “So you mean to tell me, you do not have romantic feelings for me?” What are you even supposed to say?! The brave knight of justice has never looked so pitiful or small. She looks like a gentle wind could blow her down! You bite the inside of your cheek, closing your eyes as you try to find the correct words to say. “If I did have romantic feelings for you, hypothetically, what would you say?” You ask, opening one eye to study Dikke. “That my heart burns for you as well. And that I want to pledge my unyielding loyalty to you, and to our love.” She states, bowing. “Well, what if, again hypothetically, I said I wanted to take it slow at first? Ease into the whole, unyielding loyalty thing.” “Oh.” You see the gears turning in her head as she stands up straight. “Yes, I’m sure I can do that too.” She coughs into a closed fist, glancing away.

“Then, well…” You sigh. “I do like you. And I do want to take things slow.” You admit, crossing your arms. The light which appears in Dikke’s eyes are like no other. She’s like a kid seeing a christmas tree for the first time, all wonder filled and bright. She runs to your side, kneeling at your bed. Looking up to you with so much admiration, you could swear it was almost worship. “You’re being truthful, M’lord? Yes?” “Yeah, I am.” You sink under her gaze, not used to it being so soft. It’s cute. Too cute. “Then I will be your knight, yours and yours alone, to defend you and follow you to the ends of the earth.” She swears.

You wonder, briefly, what you’ve gotten yourself into.

#x reader #reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #Dikke #Dikke x reader #Dikke x you #Dikke reverse 1999 #Medicine Pocket #Medicine Pocket x reader #Medicine Pocket x you #Medicine Pocket reverse 1999 #fanfic #reader insert #Let's Make Friend Soup!#Order Up!

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