#i do feel like i need to slow down / take a break

[puckinghischier]

omg wow i need more of whiny injured luke i love it

he would try so hard to not be needy and whiny but even when he’s trying not to, his inner whiner comes out. like, obviously you’re more than happy to help him in any way you can, but he’s just extra pouty and clingy.

you would be trying to get some work done, having arranged to work from home for the next few weeks incase he needs help with anything, but also because you don’t know when you’ll get to spend this much time with him again. you’d be in your make-shift office, busy on whatever tasks you had to get completed for that day, and he’d constantly be peeking in, pacing around for a few minutes “just to see what you’re up to. got a little bored.”

around time for you to take your lunch break you’d feel him hovering, turning to find him standing in the doorway like a toddler sneaking into their parents bedroom.

“do you need something?” you would ask him, trying to get your last little bit of morning work and find a good stopping point. “just wondering what your plan is for lunch. didn’t know if you wanted to order something or make something here. i’d go ahead and start lunch, if i could,” he’d motion to the black sling on his arm, shrugging in slow motion with a sad, exaggerated eye roll

or when you’re trying to get some laundry done after finishing work, hauling the towering basket over to couch so you could fold clothes while watching a movie. luke’s lounged in the recliner, immediately sitting up when he sees you set the mound of laundry down, picking up whatever was on top. “i wish i could help you, honeybee, i really do. maybe i could try to fold a couple towels?” he would offer, taking a couple of hand towels and slowly folding them for you.

after he finished his small pile he grabbed a pair of socks, trying to fold them into one another so they formed a small ball, but he couldn’t get the job done one handed, huffing in frustration and looking over at you for help. “i think i need some help, honeybee,” he would say dejectedly, giving you a pouty, puppy dog look.

“luke, i said i’d get it. you don’t have to help me. i’m almost done anyways. just sit back and watch the movie,” you would tell him, walking over to grab the socks from him.

“but, if i help you get done faster you can come cuddle with me in the recliner sooner,” was his response, lip jutting out even further to make his pout deeper.

“lu, i still have a lot of stuff to get done. i don’t think cuddling is on the table just yet. you’ll survive until i can put all the clothes away and clean up the kitchen a little bit.”

he would huff in response, grabbing his bad arm with his good one, pouting like a child with furrowed brows and his chin pressed to his chest.

“but my shoulder hurts, and the only thing that’ll make it feel better is if you come lay here with me while i put the heating pad on it.”

you roll your eyes, knowing he won’t quit whining until you give in, so you place the now folded clothes in your bedroom, still in the laundry basket before doing a quick spot clean of the kitchen, making your way back to luke with a pint of ice cream in hand.

“now, will you stop being such a baby and just eat ice cream with me while we watch this movie? will that make you feel better?” you ask him as you crawl onto the recliner with him, laying your body between his legs with your back against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

“it’s like my shoulder is good as new, might even try out a couple slap shots tomorrow,” luke says with a smirk, shoveling a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

you bring your hand up to lightly smack his good shoulder, shaking your head at his antics, knowing it’s going to be a long six weeks

[littlelamy]

reader gets into it with her best friend and goes to rafe

a/n: hi, thank you so much for this request 🤍 i hope u don’t mind, i used sarah as reader’s best friend! 🐑

you storm out of the chateau, slamming the door behind you so hard the windows rattle. sarah’s voice echoes in your mind, every sharp word cutting deeper than the last. your pulse races, your chest tight, and the humid outer banks air does nothing to soothe your anger. you just need to get away—from her, from the fight, from everything.

and without thinking, you end up at tannyhill.

your hands grip the steering wheel so tight your knuckles ache, but it’s the only thing grounding you right now. when you pull up to the estate, the sight of it calms something inside you, just for a moment. but the second you get out of the car, the weight of everything hits you all over again. you can’t stay in your own head any longer. you need something, someone, to take the edge off.

the door opens before you knock, and there he is—leaning against the doorframe like he’s been waiting for this. rafe’s in a plain white t-shirt, jeans slung low on his hips, that trademark smirk pulling at his lips. it’s maddening how effortlessly he reads you.

“couldn’t stay away, huh?” his voice is low, smooth, and it rolls over you like a challenge.

you push past him without answering, the tension bubbling under your skin too much to deal with right now. you can feel his eyes on you, tracking every movement as you step into the living room. it’s dim inside, the house quiet, but the air feels thick, charged. you can hear the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

“what happened? sarah?” he asks, closing the door behind him with a soft click. his tone is amused, but there’s something more lurking beneath it—something darker.

you run a hand through your hair, pacing as the words tumble out. “yeah, sarah. she just—” you break off, shaking your head. “it doesn’t even matter.”

he watches you, arms crossed, leaning against the wall like he has all the time in the world. “sounds like it does.”

you glare at him, frustrated with how easily he seems to brush everything off. “she acts like she knows everything. like i’m the one who's always in the wrong.”

“maybe you are,” he says, stepping closer, voice smooth and infuriatingly calm.

you narrow your eyes at him. “you think this is funny?”

his eyes darken as he closes the distance between you, his voice dropping lower. “nah. i just think you’re too worked up to think straight.”

his scent hits you first—something woodsy, like a mix of cologne and the faintest hint of smoke, something that always clings to him. it makes your head swim, a distraction from the anger still burning in your chest. you can feel his breath on your neck now, warm and teasing, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“what are you doing here?” rafe murmurs, his hand brushing against your arm, slow and deliberate, like he knows the effect it has on you.

“i don’t know,” you admit, hating how shaky your voice sounds. “i just needed to get out of there.”

“you came here for a reason,” he says, stepping even closer until there’s barely any space left between you. “what do you need?”

you know what he’s doing, the way his voice wraps around you like a vice, pulling you in, making you forget. you shouldn’t want this, not now—not after everything. but the weight of the fight with sarah, the tension still coiled tight in your chest, makes it impossible to think straight.

“i don’t need anything,” you lie, but your body betrays you, leaning into him just slightly.

he chuckles softly, the sound low and almost predatory. “that’s not what it looks like.”

his hand slides down your arm, his touch sending a jolt through you. his fingers ghost over your hip, gripping you just enough to pull you flush against him. you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. his breath brushes your cheek, warm and steady, and it’s all too much—too close, too intense.

“tell me what you need,” he whispers, lips barely grazing your ear.

your heart hammers in your chest, your mind racing. you should pull away, put some distance between you. but you can’t. the way he looks at you, like he already knows what you want, makes it impossible to move. impossible to think of anything other than him.

“rafe,” you start, voice catching in your throat, but before you can say anything else, his lips are on your neck, soft at first, then more insistent. your breath hitches, every nerve in your body lighting up as his hands grip your waist tighter.

“you want to forget?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with promise. “i can make you forget.”

you close your eyes, your resolve crumbling as his mouth moves lower, and you hate how much you need this—how much you need him right now. but maybe that’s exactly what you came here for. to let go. to drown out everything else.

“make me forget,” you whisper, and when you feel his lips curl into a dark smile against your skin, you know you’ve already given in.

[hoshifighting]

hi! i absolutely love your work ❤️ i binged all of your reaction scenarios in a day- your writting is absolutely amazing.

anyway- i wanted to put in a request if that's ok 🥹

how do you think hoshi would be as a dom/hard dom hehe 🫠

how hoshi would be as a hard dom WARNINGS: smut, penetrative sex, kneeling, humiliation, chocking, biting, hard dom dynamics, sub/brat dynamics.

when hoshi’s in charge, i think there’s no softness in him. no hesitation. you see it in his eyes the second the switch flips—how they darken, how he looks at you like you’re a toy, something to play with, break, and put back together. it always starts with a challenge. a look, maybe a smirk you give him because you think it’ll be fun to rile him up. but hoshi isn’t someone you can push around, not when he’s like this, you know his rage problemsss. when you test him, all you do is set yourself up for what’s coming next.

“you think you can handle me?” he’ll say, amused. it’s a warning, one you always ignore, and before you know it, he’s got you pinned up against a wall, his hand around your throat. he doesn’t squeeze right away, just enough pressure to make you aware of how easily he could. his lips ghost over your ear as he whispers, “you wanted this. now you’re gonna take it.”

hoshi doesn’t waste time. there’s nothing slow or gentle about the way he pulls your clothes off, ripping them if you’re too slow, making you stand there naked in front of him while he stays fully dressed. the control he has is intoxicating, and it makes you feel small, weak, in the best way. he’ll make you kneel, his hand still gripping the back of your neck, pushing you down. “look at you,” he’ll say, “on your knees already. tsk!! pathetic.” and then, without warning, he’ll slap your ass, hard enough to make you yelp. “you like being treated like this, yea?” he growls, and the sting of his palm still lingers as he pulls you up by your hair, forcing you to look into his eyes. “answer me.”

“yes,” you whisper, and that’s all he needs to hear before he’s got you bent over whatever surface is closest—a table, the bed, the floor, the sink, the kitchen counter, the balcony, doesn’t matter to him. hoshi’s rough. there’s no easing into it, no slow teasing. he’ll push your legs apart, fingers digging into your thighs, and when he fucks you, it’s hard, fast, relentless.

he’ll keep a hand around your throat or pressed between your shoulder blades, keeping you down, making sure you can’t move. and he talks, too—filthy, degrading, words spilling from his mouth like he’s been holding them in alllll day. “fuck, you’re so tight. you gonna come already? after all that attitude?”he’ll slap your ass again, leaving red handprints, then spread you open wider, making sure you feel every inch of him. and when you start to moan, when you can’t hold back anymore, he laughs, low and dark. “so fucking loud,” he’ll say, “you want everyone to hear how much of a slut you are, huh?”

he doesn’t stop until you’re begging, tears in your eyes, body trembling. and even then, he’ll pull out just to make you beg harder, make you tell him how much you need it. “say it,” he commands, fingers digging into your skin. “tell me how bad you want me to fuck you.”

and when you do—when you give him exactly what he wants—he’ll pull you close, biting down on your shoulder, leaving marks that’ll last for days. he’ll take you harder than before, until you can’t even form words, only sobbing into the sheets, legs shaking, body spent.and when he’s finished, when he’s finally had his fill, he’ll collapse next to you, chest heaving, a satisfied smirk on his face. he won’t say anything at first, just watch you catch your breath, maybe brush the hair out of your face.

[the-curious-butterfly]

Today just feels like a day for firsts so this is for them.

Chloe was sitting on her bed doing schoolwork when Red came, more like barreled, in. She had thought to greet her roommate or say anything really, but all the words got caught in her throat as soon as she looked up and saw the look on her face. There was this intensity to her eyes that would have been frightening if it wasn’t for the fact she was also smiling. Though their eyes met for only a second before she beelined it towards Chloe. Taking the Charming completely by surprise as all she could get out was a “Red, what-“ and then she couldn’t speak anymore. Suddenly her lips were too busy with something soft and tender and…oh.

Funny, she originally thought of herself as more resistant to give in but the minute she felt those lips she was done for. Her body gave a quiet sigh as it went limp, the only thing holding her up was Red who had wrapped her arms around her the moment she sat upon the edge of the bed. Pulling her closer and closer to the point Chloe felt like she would break, but also that it wasn’t close enough.

Chloe has heard and read about first kisses. None of that had prepared her for this. Where first kisses are described as slow, soft, and sweet. Red is quick, intense, and yet still somehow so sweet. While her movements may seem erratic Chloe could tell she was being rather mindful, especially with her teeth. At one point Red even bit her bottom lip, though only enough to tease not to hurt. Her hands, which travel up and down her back now, feel more soothing rather than needing.

How is it possible that Red is kissing her senseless, yet reassuring her that she isn’t losing her senses all at the same time.

It’s so Red. So very very Red. Just like this first kiss.

This perfect first-

…Wait.

After what felt like a lifetime, but was really only moments, Chloe had found the strength to place her hands upon Red’s arms and slowly push her away. Breaking the intensity but not the kiss, not completely anyway. Red’s lips chased hers, though she wasn’t the only one to blame.

“Wait, wait.” Oh good, she hadn’t completely lost her voice. She had been worried about that for a minute. Before she could say anymore, however, Red took her breath away once more for a completely different reason. Something was being held before her that she swears wasn’t there a second ago, something circular that looks oddly enough like a-

“What, Red?!”

“No this isn’t me proposing, not yet at least, this is me saying I don’t mind the thought of marrying you either. Someday.”

All Chloe could do was stare at Red, because really what is she suppose to say to that? Was she suppose to reach out and take the ring? Which was silver and plain looking, but that’s not what mattered. Chloe wouldn’t have cared if it was plastic, what she cares about is the person offering it to her and saying they’re fine with her.

“I talked to Principal Uma and she helped me realize a few things. Number one being, Chloe, if I ever get to the point where I do marry you. It’ll be because I chose to, and how could I regret choosing the first person who believed I was more than what I seemed?”

Chloe stared at the ring then up into Red’s intense yet genuine gaze. “But…I also told you that you weren’t more than what you seemed when we met.”

The answer came after a spot of laughter. “I told you the same thing too, I called you a privileged little princess.”

“I am-was a privileged little princess.” Chloe could admit that now. Red on the other hand was never evil, not the way her mom is…or well was?

“You sure you’re not still are?” She raises a perfectly constructed brow as she teases Chloe. Prompting said girl to shove her off the bed, ring still in hand. “Hey, at least accept this first before you kick me off.”

“Nope, keep teasing me and I might never.”

Red feigns a rather audible gasp. “You wouldn’t!”

Chloe looks down at the pouting child before relenting with a sigh. “You’re right, I wouldn’t, I love you too much to do that.”

There it was, Chloe said it. It was the first time she told Red that she loved her. Six months after you start dating, even if you hadn’t had your first kiss yet, was enough time right? She sure hoped so, except Red isn’t responding nor can she read the expression on her face.

Oh fairy godmother, this was a mistake wasn’t it?

It was a mistake. It was a mistake.

“It was-“

She couldn’t even finish as a pair of lips had defended upon her once more. Though this kiss was a lot different from the first. It was much more like the ones she’s read and heard about. It’s so very soft, slow, and sweet. It’s fireworks and fairy song and everything she’s ever imagined. Red’s arms are sitting on her shoulders this time so Chloe places hers around the other girl’s waist. Something small falls onto one of the sheets of paper scattered around her bed, but she’s too focused on Red to care about what it is.

She takes this to mean a good thing, even if Red hadn’t said it back. The fact that she’s kissing Chloe like this must be a good sign.

That thought gets reinforced when Red pulls away to rest her forehead against Chloe’s. “I’m not very good at the whole feeling thing so I didn’t know how else to respond. Just, know that it wouldn’t feel enough to say that I like you.”

Chloe’s smile in response is so radiant she’s pretty sure she should have gotten the name Charming for that alone. Red herself could barely look at it, but she couldn’t look away either.

Except suddenly that radiant smile turned into an amused frown. “Did you say you went to Principal Uma for advice?”

“Yes…look, I had to go to someone and Maddox is a whole kingdom away.”

“So you went to the Principal? Shouldn’t that be something I would do?”

“What can I say, maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

“Or maybe you respect certain authority more than you like to let on.”

“Chloe Charming, you take that right back this instant.”

“Or else what?” At this point Chloe unconsciously starts rubbing Red’s back through the fabric of her riot jacket. Red’s response is to rub their noses together.

“Or else I’ll stop hanging out with you.”

“Hanging out? Is that what we’ve been doing?”

“Have we not, that’s what people do isn’t it?”

“Red, you really do need more friends.”

Red gently bites Chloe’s left ear causing Chloe to give out a soft yelp. “First of all, rude. Second, why would I need more friends when I have you?”

“That’s exactly what someone who needs more friends would say. Wait, don’t you dare bite the other one!”

Too late, she bit the other one too.

[the-fiction-witch]

Little One

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Daemon Targaryen Couple - Daemon X Reader Reader - Y/n (Brothel Worker) Rating - 18 + brothel / sex work / nudity / blow jobs / full sex / fingering /pinv /cinv Word Count - 1235

Daemon sat in a pleasure house down the street of Silk. He was frustrated and wanted to engage in some depravities. But his usual whore wasn't here so he had to settle for a new girl. The master of the house stood offering some of his best girls for the prince.

“No.” Daemon barked girl after girl only taking breaks to sip his wine,

That was until… Y/n, she swore a long white dress with lacing down the front, the ties well worn,

She walked in and bowed to the prince playing with her hair,

"What do you think of this one, my prince?" The master asked,

“Ah, she's... intriguing,” Daemon says with a sly smile, his eyes locked onto Y/n's body. He raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the subtle hints of wear on her dress. “Tell me, little one,” he says, his voice low and husky, “what's your name?”

"Y/n, my prince," she cooed,

"She's very beautiful, never had a single complaint, very submissive, she always obeys" the master said,

“Beautiful, yes,” Daemon says, his eyes still fixed on Y/n's curves.“Come here, little one,” he says, beckoning her closer.

she nodded and stepped over to the bed and stood between his legs,

“Good girl,” Daemon purrs, running his fingers along the hem of her dress. “You're eager, aren't you?” He glances up at her face, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I like that.” With a gentle tug, he pulls her closer, his hands slipping under the fabric of her dress to cup her hips. “So soft,” he whispers, his breath hot against her skin. “You feel like silk, little one.” His thumbs dance across her hipbones, sending shivers down her spine. “Take off your dress,” Daemon orders, his voice firm but husky. “I want to see you, Y/n.”

The master of the house steps forward, a hint of a smile on his face. “Don't worry, my prince,” he says. “She's -.”

“I want to see for myself.” Daemon demanded, “Go on little one.”

Y/n hesitates for a moment before slowly beginning to untie the laces of her dress.

Daemon watched her with a growing smile,

Once it was unlaced she pushed it to the floor revealing her naked body, her breasts bounce a little as the dress is removed, and her cunt glistens from the excitement of the moment,

"A beauty is she not my prince?" The master cooed,

“Indeed she is,” Daemon agrees, his eyes drinking at the sight of Y/n's naked body. His hand slips between her legs, parting them slightly, his hand moving up to rub his thumb against her clit burying three fingers inside her,

She gasped throwing back her head with a little hint of a moan as he began to thrust his fingers at a merciless pace,

Daemon chuckled smugly at her, “Show me,” he whispers, his voice low and urgent. “Show me what you've learned here.”

She nods and she moves away slightly dropping to her knees, she unlaced his britches pulling out his half-hard cock, she took him in her hand and began lapping her tounge against him and gently suckling his head,

“Mmm,” Daemon moans, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, He feels himself growing harder, lengthening in her mouth as she sucks and laps at him. Her lips were warm and wet, and Daemon can feel the vibrations of her humming through every cell of his body. He threads his fingers through her hair, holding her head in place as he begins to thrust gently into her mouth. “Yes, like that,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own ragged breathing.

Y/n's hands come up to grip his thighs, holding onto him as he fucks her mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.

“She will go just fine, now fuck off!” Daemon growled,

"enjoy her my prince, anything you need simply toll the bell" The master nodded leaving them alone together

Daemon's eyes never leave Y/n's face as he watches her work over his cock, He can feel the tension building inside him, his balls drawing up tight as he approaches the edge. But he wants to savor this, to enjoy every last second of it. So he slows down, letting Y/n set the pace as she continues to lick and suck at him. “Ohh your good little one, your very good,” Daemon finds himself getting lost in the sensation of her mouth on him. He starts to hum, a low vibration that builds in intensity as Y/n picks up speed. Daemon's hands tighten in her hair, his fingers digging deeper into her scalp as he starts to lose control… Suddenly, he freezes, his entire body tensing up as he holds perfectly still.

Y/n looks up at him, confusion etched on her face, but Daemon doesn't give her a chance to react.

With a swift motion, he spins her around, slamming her down onto the bed, Their mouths crash together in a fierce kiss as Daemon's cock surges forward, burying itself deep within Y/n's waiting pussy.

she moans in shock and surprise as he thrusts so suddenly, but she arched her hips up for him giving him the perfect angle

Daemon's eyes flash open, his pupils dilating as he buries himself deeper inside Y/n's slick warmth. He can feel her muscles contracting around him, milking him for more as he pounds into her with increasing ferocity.

Y/n's moans grow louder, as she wraps her legs around Daemon's waist, holding him tight. Her nails dig into his skin, leaving crescent-shaped marks as she clings to him for support. The bed creaks and groans beneath their combined weight, the sound echoing through the room as they move in perfect syncopation.

Daemon's chest heaves with exertion, his sweat-drenched hair clinging to his forehead as he drives himself deeper and deeper into Y/n's willing body.

“I'm going to make you scream,” Daemon growls, his voice low and menacing as he increases the tempo of his thrusts.

Y/n's eyes fly wide, her mouth opening in a silent scream as Daemon's cock pistons in and out of her, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her entire body. Her nails rake across his back, leaving bloody scratches as she tries to cling to him for dear life.

But Daemon doesn't care - he's too far gone, consumed by his own desire. He leans forward, his teeth bared as he bites down on Y/n's shoulder, marking her as his own. The pain mixes with the pleasure, creating a maelstrom of sensations that threaten to consume them both whole. And then, in an instant, it's over.

Daemon freezes, his cock buried deep within Y/n's trembling body as he comes with a roar, spilling his seed into her waiting womb.

she cooed softly stroking the muscles on his hips helping him to milk his orgasm and ride it out with her gentle hip shifts "Are you pleased my prince?"

Daemon's chest heaves with exhaustion as he slowly comes back to reality, his vision blurring at the edges. He looks down at Y/n, his eyes locking onto hers, “Yes,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper as he slowly pulls out, “Fuck,” He collapses down on the bed, “...what- what was your name again?”

“Y/n” she smiled,

“Y/n…” he nodded wiping the sweat from his brow, “Fuck… I am going to be seeing you again.” He growled pulling her into his arms and nibbling her neck, “Would you like that little one?”

“I very much would my prince,”

“Good girl,” He cooed pulling her into a sweet but still passionate kiss, 

[cupcakeslushie]

Any advice for someone who's going through art block?

Art block is so difficult, because I really think it’s down to each individual person finding what helps for them.

For me, I more often just try to power through. Because if I do stop to take a break, there’s a danger, where I know I’ll get stuck for weeks, just lazing about, not getting anything done. Then it’s really hard to get back in the swing of things. But this method of being stubborn, might be horrible advice for someone whose mental health really suffers from staying in that mindset of “failing, failing, failing”. Because that’s what it can feel like, when you’re not seeing the results you want. It can be very frustrating, and it either causes you to grow even more stuck, or it lights a fire in your ass to keep you going until you’ve forced it.

Both of these methods aren’t necessarily unhealthy or bad, but they simply work for you, or they don’t. And what helps, can often change based on your mindset and energy levels.

If powering through ever does fail me, (like it kinda has recently lol). Then, I’ll throw up my hands and accept that life is telling me to take a freaking break. In a week or two, I can come back when I’m rested and inspiration hits again. Because even I have points where I just have to listen to what my brain is telling me—despite the fact that all I want to do is be drawing nonstop lol.

Ill watch some tv, listen to some music, read, cook. Whatever is relaxing. And most of these things will provide me with enough chill vibes that I can jump back in when I’m ready!

It’s all about listening to yourself and knowing when to actually give your mind and body a break.

But, If you’re coming in well rested and bright-eyed, and the art block is still popping up, maybe it’s less art block, and more just your brain being slow to switch tasks. Do some warm up sketch exercises, get up and jump around to get your blood pumping. Browse your feeds for inspiration, but set an alarm to give yourself a certain amount of time so you don’t fall down the rabbit hole. Play some banging music to get your energy up. Staring at a blank, white canvas is hardly the proper kind of stimulating activity lol. You’ll rarely find any ideas that way.

There’s plenty of methods to handling art block. The real killer of it, is more when you let it pull you into this loop of self deprecation/sabotage that only gets worse the longer you sit in it. Art block isn’t failure on your part, it doesn’t need to be punished, or mean you’re lacking as an artist.

It’s an unavoidable part of the creative process, you learn how to handle it, and how to sail through it when it hits.

It’ll either blow over when it’s ready, or when you’ve developed a good strategy to hurry it along.

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (2)

Summary: Terry and Treece are feeling the sparks again.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,659

Part: 2 of ??

Warnings: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Previous

Grocery shopping was Patrice's private pastime. She was the queen of her universe when she walked through aisles every Saturday morning. Every flash bargain and value-sized item bent to her will for a chance at making it to her humble abode and fulfilling its one purpose in life. Employees greeted her like royalty. Customers started conversations like old friends, always giving her the scoop on any sale they'd overheard in their neighborhood Facebook groups. She was happy. She was zen. She was in her element.

"Do you need this?" 

She was a woman dragging around a large man intent on breaking any modicum of concentration she had left.

Patrice stopped and looked over her shoulder at Terry, who held a bag of cotton candy grapes up in the air for her inspection. "No, TJ. Put it down." 

"Why? You like grapes." 

"Because we're getting grapes from the farmer's market. Now, put it back."

Her rebuke was sweet but stern. Having him as a way too familiar roommate was becoming easier as the days passed. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the freedom to go for a walk, watch a movie on the couch, or even enjoy an intimate moment alone in her own house without a man looming somewhere in the very near background. 

He didn't allow her to travel alone, and she never had the energy to protest. 

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," he grumbled as he put the grapes back in their place.

"Then stop acting like one. I have a list. I know what I need." 

"I know what I need." He exaggerated his mimicry for maximum effect. 

"You see how that was childish?" 

"Whatever." 

Patrice ignored him in favor of browsing packages of beef for the best deal. If she didn't respond, maybe he would get the hint. And, for a few moments, he did. Terry took a break in conversation to scan the immediate area quietly. He noted each patron and their most important details before checking the exit and entry points at the front of the store. They weren't secure enough, but he could manage if the situation required evacuation.

A lack of action soon turned his attention back to Patrice, who still hadn't decided. He gave her a slow once over and smiled at how much focus she put into such a simple choice. Her brow remained furrowed in intense thought, transforming her into the ninth-grade Patrice he met during a chance encounter in the library. Truthfully, he didn't have much of an opinion either way. He just wanted to talk to her every second of the day, even if it meant being annoying. 

"Get that one." 

His sudden interruption startled Patrice out of her zone, adding a final straw to an already exhausted camel's back. Terry grinned in triumph as she closed her eyes for a calming breath. 

"Terry," she spoke, slow and measured to keep the peace. "Take the other half of this list and get out of my face. Don't come back until you find everything. I'll meet you at the register." 

She didn't give him much time to protest before she shoved a carefully torn half of paper into his chest and sent him on his way. He gave her a sarcastic salute, which she waved off without a second look. She needed a moment alone and didn't care if he came back with Fruity O's instead of Fruit Loops if that meant he would be out of her hair for more than 10 minutes. 

Terry found himself slowly meandering around the grocery store with a tiny basket in tow, exhausted by all the options on each aisle. If Patrice hadn't been so meticulous with her lists, he would've given up on the mission and gone back to home base with his tail tucked between his legs. 

After sourcing the perfect pint of Oreo ice cream as an apology for his behavior, Terry found himself drawn to the sound of laughter on the next aisle. Sure enough, Patrice was parked by the frozen vegetables and engaged with a man dressed in the store's colors with his eyes directed far too low to be looking at Patrice's face. 

Terry quickly reached her location, stopping behind Patrice to show her guest the full extent of his scowl. 

Patrice noticed how his once loose body language had gone stiff and sighed. She didn't need to investigate the problem. Only her human pitbull could make a man cower in fear like that. 

"Derrick, this is Terry. Terry, this is Derrick. He usually helps me get stuff to my car." 

"Ah, man. It's a good thing I'm here, right? We don't need you taking too many breaks from stocking. Mornin' rush can get crazy." 

"Terry," Patrice admonished with a harsh whisper and an elbow to his stomach. 

Terry remained steadfast, keeping his eyes on Derrick while taking one step closer. A taunting smile tugged on the right side of his mouth. He waited on any sign of fight from his unspoken adversary. 

Derrick stood in palpable discomfort, sizing up the outcomes if he decided to test his luck. Each mental scenario led him back to some instance of physical harm on his last shift of the week. He had plans for the weekend, none involving a trip to the emergency room.

Patrice stood between a rock and a hardheaded man, praying that the Lord would end her suffering.

"That's what I was about to say," Derrick answered before shifting his attention back to Patrice. "I think I oughta get going. See you around, Ms. Ellis?" 

"Same time next week." 

He nodded in half-hearted agreement and hurried out of dodge, with Terry keeping a watchful eye until he was safely around the corner. 

Patrice groaned with one hand, rubbing tight circles at her temple. "What in the hell was that about?" 

"He wouldn't even look you in the eye. If he can't look you in the eye when he's speaking, he can't protect you, and he doesn't respect you." 

"I'm not looking for his protection. I need this water loaded into my trunk every week when you aren't here!" 

"I'll never not be here. Problem solved."

His declaration was so sure, so matter of fact, that it left Patrice no room for retort. So she resorted to schoolyard antics. 

It was her turn to mock him with an exaggerated, deep voice. "Problem solved. Push the damn cart since you got so much energy." 

He obliged without protest and a proud, self-satisfied grin that Patrice couldn't see while she led the way to the register. An unexpected system error had halted all transactions, leaving them log jammed in a long line of restless customers. 

Together, they stood sharing light banter and running through weekend tasks, resembling any other couple making a store run to strangers observing them from the outside looking in. Former acquaintances, however, had no problem drawing attention to the pair from three spots back in line. 

"I know that ain't who I think it is." Both Patrice's and Terry's eyes darted up to find the source of the loud outburst, only to whisper 'fuck’ in tandem when they spotted Katrina Spivey waving her arms to grab their attention. "Hey, Terry Richmond!" 

Terry pretended to ignore being singled out by turning his back, earning a stifled laugh from Patrice. Katrina, not one to be deterred, used the moment to push past patrons in line until she reached her destination with a host of angry faces in her wake. 

"Well, if it ain't Mr. and Miss Homecoming in the flesh. You two finally stopped kidding around and got married?" 

"No," Terry answered without much explanation, his back still turned. Patrice reluctantly made up his slack. 

"What Terry meant to say was that we're not married. We're not together at all, actually. But he's here to visit me for a while." 

"What a blessing it is to have friends you can lean on when you need a helping hand."

"Amen."

An awkward tension settled into the conversation's lull, compounded by Terry's outright refusal to engage. Patrice was in deep water without a paddle and a co-captain who had already jumped ship.

Katrina wouldn't let the conversation end and take her newfound place in line. She continued to pry.

"Both of y'all look good! How long has it been since we last saw each other, huh? Gotta be since Terry's graduation send-off." 

Patrice feigned interest with a hollow smile. "Yeah, I think that was it. A looong time ago. All grown up now."

"And thank God for it! I remember how sad you looked all night because ol' Terry was moving away. Like a little crying puppy!" 

Katrina's laughter didn't quite reach Terry or Patrice, who bristled at mentioning one of the more contentious nights in their friendship. 

"Everybody's been a little young and dumb, right? Like when you and BJ got caught underneath the bleachers during state championships." 

Checkmate. A little reminder of her indiscretions had turned Katrina's condescending smile into a mean mug that could burn through anyone not equally as stubborn. 

Terry showed his approval with a light nudge against Patrice's arm. That was his girl. Sweet as pie but a tongue coated in venom when backed against the wall. He'd been on the receiving end on one too many occasions. It felt good to be on the winning side this time. 

Three seconds of a Western standoff had culminated in a gift sent via store intercom. 

"Apologies for the stoppage, folks. Our registers are back up and running. Thanks for your patience." 

Terry moved the cart to place items on the conveyor belt while Patrice waited for the conversation to resume.

Recovering from the sharp end of a verbal lashing, Katrina cleared her throat and grabbed hold of her cart in preparation to skip lines. 

"Well, I don't wanna hold y'all too much longer. If y'all don't think you're too good to mingle with us Francis High Hornets anymore, Corey's throwing a little Juneteenth gathering at his daddy's pool hall. This is my personal invite for the both of you."

"We were already invited. Maybe we'll make an appearance." 

"That'd be grand." 

"I bet it would."

Nice nasty smiles passed between the two foes until Katrina was off to harass some other unsuspecting patron. 

Patrice tried to let go of her frustration with an angry huff before turning to catch up with Terry, who was casually moving groceries from the bagging station to the shopping basket. He waited a moment before acknowledging the obvious. 

"You over it now, or do I need to iron a shirt for tonight?" 

"I'm over it," Patrice answered plainly. She calmly handed over payment for the day's groceries and smiled ever so sweetly to bid the cashier farewell. To an outsider, she'd returned to her zen state without much effort. Terry was no outsider and kept a cautious eye on her as they loaded bags into the trunk and got settled in the front seat of her SUV. 

"You sure you're good," he asked as he backed out of their parking space. 

"I'm sure, TJ," she answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Terry started a mental countdown for the other shoe to drop. "I'll iron the shirt. You need to shave." 

--------

The final verdict? A plain white T-shirt. 

An hour of searching, choosing, rejecting, and choosing again led them to a plain, crisp white tee. Patrice said it went better with her yellow wrap dress, which she chose because her girlfriends were all in dresses, and she wanted to match the occasion. It all sounded like made-up bullshit to Terry. Still, he accepted being treated like a Ken Doll because it meant that his Barbie would agree to a two-hour hard stop at the festivities. 

He'd already started his stopwatch when they pulled up on a busy street in front of an even busier hole in the wall.

The smell of fresh grease greeted them upon crossing the threshold from outside into Mister C's Bar and Lounge. Fried fish, French fries, and wings in any flavor you could ask for sat in the service window, waiting for their delivery to any one of the patrons packed from wall to cinderblock wall. Terry inhaled deeply and let his scowl drop for one second to fantasize about a bite of Corey Sr.'s signature catfish and fries basket. 

Next came the familiar mix of sweat and weed near the dancefloor as bodies intertwined to some GloRilla song neither of them recognized. Thick traffic in the center of the room paused Patrice on her path to the pool tables, locking her between Terry and a crowd that wouldn't budge. 

"Excuse me!" she shouted over a swell of crowd reaction to a new song. "I need to get by!" 

No response. Not even a look back as she used a hand to create space between her and a group of men debating nonsense. Before she could try again, Terry used one hand to push her forward and his voice to clear the way. 

"Yo, step out of the way. We need to get through." Direct and to the point. He left no room for misinterpretation, and his baritone's boom left no confusion about who was calling the shots. Patrice watched with her lips slightly parted in awe. 

The first reaction to his demand was the embers of confrontation. Each member of the group sized Terry up, noticing his heavy scowl and size in comparison to their own. Then, they realized that this wasn't a winning game. 

The flashiest of the group nodded, though disdain at the mere suggestion that he was in the way kept his mouth in a tight frown. "Yeah, you good, OG. My fault." 

Another light push propelled Patrice forward as Terry maintained with each man until they had passed. 

Once they were out of the mix and nearing their destination, he advised, "Stay close." Patrice nodded her compliance, shocking Terry into a slight smile in appreciation for her obedience. 

Sparks of electricity shot between them but had no time to turn into a total current before Corey called out to them. 

"Treece! Terry! We over here!" 

Surrounded by familiar faces from Francis Edward's Class of 2010, Corey welcomed them with open arms and his ever-present 100-watt smile. At a slight 5'6", 150 on his best day, he'd always been larger than his frame would suggest. Loud and flamboyant had always been the name of his game, earning him anything he set his sights on.

It didn't take long for the trio and Corey's wife, June, to fall into familiar habits and friendly jabs at one another as they took their seats in a makeshift VIP section by the pool tables. The Three-Headed Monster was their moniker in high school, and they moved like a military force. Terry was the enforcer, while Corey and Patrice served as judge and prosecutor. If you had an issue with one, you had an issue with all three. 

"Your security is lax. Who trained them?" Terry pointed out during a dead spot in conversation. 

Corey followed his eyeline to the two young men standing at the door and back. "My boy at the sheriff's office. What you see?" 

"They look soft. It wouldn't take much to overpower them and get in for some drama. You only have one exit. Somebody breeches this place, and you're on the hook for a tragedy. Plus, the one on the left is scared. He'll be the first to leave if things get hot. Watch him."

"Impressive," June remarked, smiling at Patrice, who subtly playfully waved her off.

"Hm." Corey took a long pull from his cigar, taking in the information before responding." You here for a minute, T? I got some connections over at Liberty if you looking to get back in the swing of things." 

"Contract?" 

"Whatever you need, man. You know I'm good for it."

Terry looked over at Patrice for some indication that she believed in Corey, and she returned with a subtle nod and encouraging smile. June looked between them and then at her husband before clearing her throat. 

"It looks like Kel and his boy are back on the pool table. You know he still owes you a game from when he cheated last week." 

"Hell yeah," Corey agreed as he turned in his seat to get a look at his enemy. "Aye, T, you trynna make $100 real quick?" 

"It's either that or you gotta come dance with me," Patrice challenged. "This rum and pineapple got me feeling a little loose." 

She wasn't lying. A taste of alcohol in her system was starting to make her want to explore parts of the Patrice she thought she left at North Carolina A&T. Every heart-rattling thump of Megan Thee Stallion's latest and greatest had her thinking about reminding everyone in the room that she could move with the best of them. 

Her little grind in her seat made Terry show teeth in a small grin before he stood to his full height and looked down at her. His eyes were hooded and dreamy from some combination of exhaustion and a contact high, reintroducing that spark from before.

"Don't go too far. I'll be back with your money in a little bit." 

Patrice's tongue felt too heavy to respond coherently past a punch-drunk nod. June watched her watch him make his way down the platform and into the crowd until both men were out of earshot. 

She whistled and shook her head. "That's a good-looking man, ain't he?" 

"Who? Corey? He alright. He's like a slightly more attractive Taye Diggs." 

"First off, ouch," June laughed. "Second, I was talking about Terry. He was cute in high school, but I'll be damned if that second puberty didn't take him to a whole 'nother level." 

"Don't tell him that. His head is big enough."

"You know you wrong for that." If the music weren't so loud, everyone in the building would've heard the pair guffawing over Patrice's petty insult. 

Once they contained themselves, June took a sip from her margarita and shifted in her seat to get closer to Patrice.

"He likes you still." Five plain words shook Patrice internally as she struggled to maintain a poker face. June continued. "I see the way he looks for your approval and damn near trips on himself to fulfill your every whim. You're all he talks about when he and Corey get on the phone." 

"They talk?" 

"From time to time. I think he needs a man's opinion sometimes, you know?" 

Patrice wrestled with the influx of information as June continued. 

"That man is mean as a snake. Always has been and always will be. But, you bring something out of him. Even if you can't always see it." 

"If that were the case, things would've been different for us back then." 

June shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you're right where you're supposed to be. I know I can't make you do what you don't wanna do, but if what I say means anything, focus on today. Thirty-two-year-old Terry is so much more prepared to love you than eighteen-year-old Terry was." 

Punctuating her advice, June tapped Patrice's leg twice before taking a step away to refill their tray of food. 

Focus on today.

The words replayed in her mind repeatedly; even after their two hours were up, Terry had returned $100 richer, and they were back on the road to their quiet slice of the world. 

They rode together in content quiet, letting the Quiet Storm host talk while Terry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. 

Randomly, he would glance in her direction, assuming she had lost the sleep battle to her old friend Bacardi. When he reached over to adjust the air vent on her side of the car, he was surprised when she mumbled a low "thank you." 

"My bad. I thought you were sleeping." 

"No. My head is swimming, though. Don't let me drink that much anymore." she laughed. 

He chuckled along with her but didn't agree to keep her from letting her hair down occasionally. In his eyes, seeing her relaxed and carefree was a gift to the world. 

The opening notes of Tevin Campbell's "I'm Ready" swirled around them, sounding like a secret message to Patrice as she focused on streetlights to keep the contents of her dinner inside her stomach. 

"Hey," she whispered before she could catch herself. Terry acknowledged her with a glance. "Do you think you're still scared?" 

"Of what?" 

"Of whatever kept you away for so long?"

He thought for a moment, wanting to make sure he was clear with his word. "No. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of bringing you along for a ride I might not survive. That's not a threat anymore. So, no, I'm not scared anymore."

You know I'm ready

To love you

Forever 

Patrice reached across the center console until she reached Terry's hand to interlock her fingers with his. He gave her an appreciative squeeze without taking his eyes off the road. 

"I-I don't think I'm scared anymore either."

Her heart raced wildly behind her ribs, and Patrice was that if Terry pressed his wrist close enough to hers, he could feel her pulse accelerate. He didn't mind either way. Sweaty palms and trembling fingers would never be enough for him to let her go. Not again. 

As if she'd break if he moved too fast, Terry brought her hand to his lips slowly. One kiss. Another. Two more. And a final one for good measure. 

When he'd had his fill of her skin, he pressed the spot up against his cheek. He needed to feel and absorb her until they were one body. 

But, for tonight at least, this was enough.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse

[maxlarens]

just thinking of mercedes driver seeing engineer george in lewis-esque clothes out in public and going into cardiac arrest. has to sit down, everyone’s asking her if she’s feeling okay, all the while she just needs to make sure she can slow down the beat of her heart. george is like “do you think i look ok? :(“ kinda unsure of himself, and for once, the driver can’t say anything flirtatious back with ease. she just needs a MOMENT! to herself!!

DUDEEEE YEAH. maybe there’s a casual team event or something and lewis is like alright lemme dress you because i’m sick of seeing you in a team polo and fucking white chinos😭 and his ulterior motive is of course to mess with reader. i think literally all it takes is a baggy pants and oversized t-shirt tbfh. its that thing where u see someone who dresses very specifically one way dress entirely differently and it breaks your brain in a good way. and it breaks her brain for sure!!

like she catches a glimpse of him and immediately goes somewhere else to process it. like it’s too much for her george-addled brain lmao. and yesss lol everyones like hey are you okay?? what are you doing in this corner?? and i like to think that lewis is a shit stirrer when it comes to them. so he very pointedly brings george to her.

URGH but yeah. george is all bashful like oh lewis gave me this to wear i dont really know about it etc etc. and she’s nodding grimacing trying not to jump him right there. and he just thinks she’s ill or something😭

[simplygojo]

Care Between the Chaos

Author's Note: Hey y'allll, guess what I'm doing...preparing for a super important job interview!! So guess what I wrote...? Pretty boy Suguru Geto taking care of the reader while she preps for a super important interview!!! LOL at this point I cannot deny the projection allegations. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this sweet oneshot. I LOVE Y'ALL SO MUCH <3

Also, as always, request are open and encouraged! Here are my request guidelines if you're interested, there are also some prompts on there if you need inspo!

Pairing: Modern AU!Suguru Geto x f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Your heart will feel super warm and fuzzy...lol

The golden light of the late afternoon sun had long since surrendered to the deepening twilight, and the harsh, artificial glow of the desk lamp now lighted your room. Your desk was a chaotic battlefield of papers, textbooks, and highlighters, all surrounding your overheating laptop in the centre.

Every surface was cluttered—each corner of the room seemed to reflect the mounting pressure you felt. The soft hum of the old pot lights above you constantly reminded you of the hours you had spent, and the hours yet to come.

The minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness as you pored over your notes, trying to grasp every detail and nuance needed for your important job interview. Your eyes were gritty from staring at the screen, and your mind was clouded with anxiety.

You took a deep breath, trying to focus, but the weight of the impending deadline felt almost unbearable.

This job was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you did not intend on screwing that up. You had been preparing for about a week, but with less than 24 hours until the interview, you felt as if nothing you did was enough.

The door to your study room creaked open, and your lovely boyfriend, Suguu Geto, stepped inside. A visible concern accompanied his usually effortless charm as he observed the disarray of your office. He moved quietly, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on you. The sight of you hunched over your desk, surrounded by the chaos of your preparations, tugged at his heartstrings.

“Hey, love,” he said softly, his voice a gentle balm against the relentless noise of your stress. His tone was soothing, almost musical, meant to cut through the fog of your anxiety. “How’s it going?”

You glanced up briefly, your eyes tired and red-rimmed. “It’s going alright,” you murmured, your voice lacking its usual vibrancy. “Just a bit more to do before the interview.”

Geto shook his head, a small, understanding smile playing on his lips. He placed a wooden tray on the edge of your desk, positioning it delicately beside your chaos.

You hadn't even noticed him holding the tray as he walked in. It was a thoughtful assortment of comfort foods: freshly baked chocolate chip cookies with their edges perfectly golden, carefully cut slices of fruit, and a neatly wrapped sandwich. The sight of it was like a warm hug for your weary soul.

“Take a break,” Geto said, his voice carrying a tender authority. “You’ll need more than just caffeine to get through this—eat something y/n.” He said, moving to stand behind you, placing his large hands gently on your shoulders after running his fingers through your hair. You reached for a cookie, the rich, sweet aroma providing a momentary escape from the relentless pressure.

The gooey chocolate and soft dough offered a fleeting but much-needed distraction as you bit into it. You closed your eyes for a moment, savouring the taste and the comfort that came with it. “Mmmmm…This is delicious, Suguru.” You said as he leaned down, placing a loving kiss on the top of your head. You smiled softly and tilted your head back to look up at his pretty face.

“I will eat, I promise, you’re so sweet for this…but I can’t take a break right now, baby. I’m sorry.”

Geto watched you with a soft smile, his heart swelling with affection. He saw the tension in your shoulders, the furrow in your brow, and the way you continually rubbed your tired eyes. He knew that a simple snack was only the beginning of what you needed. “Do you need me to help with anything?” He asked, but he knew the answer you were about to say. “Sorry, but now, I just need to keep preparing.” He nodded and planted another kiss on your temple before leaving you to continue your interview prep.

—

The hours passed slowly, the light from the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. You continued working, your focus wavering as fatigue began to take its toll.

As if on cue, Suguru entered the room, carrying a soft blanket and a hairbrush, but you did not notice him as your face was buried in your computer screen.

He draped the blanket over your shoulders, its softness immediately providing a sense of comfort as you turned your head quickly to meet his gentle gaze. As he tucked it around you, he noticed the tension in your posture. He gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch both soothing and affectionate. “Mmm…thank you, baby.” You cooed, letting your body relax under the warmth.

“You should take a break,” he suggested again, his voice soft yet firm. “You’ve been at this for hours. I hate to see you so stressed.”

You shook your head, “I can’t stop now,” you protested weakly, your voice a mix of determination and exhaustion. “There’s still so much to do, and I don’t wnat to waste tim-.”

“Nonsense,” Geto countered before you could finish your thought with a playful firmness. “You need to take care of yourself too. I’m here to help.”

With that, he pulled up a chair behind you and began to work on your hair. His fingers were skilled and gentle, moving with practiced ease as he untangled the knots with his hairbrush and began braiding your hair. The rhythmic motion of his hands was both calming and intimate, each touch designed to ease away the stress that had accumulated from your long hours of work.

As he worked, you could feel the tension in your head and shoulders slowly melting away. The sensation of his familiar touch, combined with the warmth of the blanket was a welcome relief.

Your thoughts began to drift and your eyelids fluttered shut, momentarily distracted from the relentless pressure of your preparations. The soft, rhythmic motion of his hands was like a lullaby, drawing you away from the stress and into a state of calm.

Suguru’s was focused on making sure you felt cared for. He knew that even the smallest gestures could make a big difference in how you felt. His thoughts were filled with a mixture of concern and affection as he continued to braid your hair, each movement designed to bring you comfort.

Suguru’s attention to your needs was instinctive. He knew that even the smallest gestures—a touch, a word—could make a big difference.

His love was quiet, expressed not in grand gestures but in these moments of care, where he sought to lighten your load without taking anything away from your independence.

After finishing the braid, he leaned forward, his warm breath brushing your skin as he kissed the crown of your head softly, lingering just a moment too long.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered, his lips grazing your temple before planting another tender kiss on your cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

His words, gentle and sincere, filled the room like a warm, protective aura. You smiled despite the exhaustion weighing down on your body.

A part of you wanted to surrender to his care completely, to let him whisk you away from the burden of responsibility. But that determined part of you—the one that had carried you this far, wouldn’t let you rest just yet.

You turned in your chair to face him, giving him a tired but appreciative smile. “You’re too good to me,” you murmured, reaching up to cup his face. “But I can’t rest, Suguru. Not yet.”

He chuckled softly, the low sound reverberating through his chest as he held your gaze. His dark eyes were filled with warmth, a reflection of the depth of his feelings for you.

“I think you deserve a break,” he said, placing a soft kiss on your lips this time. His kiss was slow, delicate—enough to tempt you into abiding, but not enough to fully pull you away from your tasks.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the world outside of the two of you seemed to disappear.

“Stay here,” you whispered, though a teasing smile played on your lips. “But… let me finish. Just a little longer?”

Geto sighed theatrically, though the fondness in his gaze never wavered. “You are impossibly stubborn, you know that?”

You chuckled, brushing a thumb across his cheek. “I know. But that’s why you love me.”

He smirked, leaning in for one more kiss, this one a little firmer, a little more insistent. It was a kiss that promised more, but also one that said, I’ll wait.

“You’re right,” he murmured against your lips. “That’s exactly why.”

With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Geto reluctantly pulled away, though not without one last, lingering look that left your heart fluttering. He straightened up, his hands trailing down your arms as he rose to his feet.

“I’ll be in the other room,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with the unspoken promise that he’d return if you needed him.

You nodded, biting back another smile as you turned back to your work.

The desk lamp cast its warm glow over the papers once more, but this time, the weight on your shoulders felt lighter—knowing Suguru was there, just a room away, gave you the strength to push through.

You sighed contentedly, feeling the remnants of his tender living care wrapped around you like the blanket he had so thoughtfully draped over your shoulders. Suguru’s love was quiet, persistent, and steady. And in this moment, even in the midst of your stress, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to have him.

—

The hours dragged on as the hum of your laptop filled the quiet room. Despite Suguru’s care and the warmth of the blanket over your shoulders, you continued to push through. The stress of preparing for the interview was like a weight on your chest, driving you to review every last detail of your presentation.

Fatigue gnawed at your senses, but you stubbornly ignored it.

Your fingers moved slowly over the keyboard, eyes struggling to focus on the words that had long since blurred. You barely noticed the dim light of your screen, and the quiet of the house settled into a calming lull.

Suguru, ever mindful, peeked into your office from time to time. He could see the way your head drooped closer to the screen, the way your back slumped in the chair, the exhaustion etched in your every movement.

After what felt like an eternity, Suguru decided enough was enough. He reappeared at the doorway of your office, a glass of water in hand.

As he approached, he saw your body had finally succumbed to the exhaustion you had been fighting. Your head was resting on your folded arms atop the desk, the faint glow of the laptop barely illuminating your peaceful face.

The screen had dimmed automatically, its light reflecting softly off your skin, casting long shadows across the room.

Suguru’s steps softened as he entered the room, not wanting to disturb you. He set the glass of water down quietly beside the untouched cup of tea he had brought earlier and knelt beside you, taking in the sight of your sleeping form.

The tension that had lined your features throughout the day had finally faded, leaving you with an expression of serenity. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, tucking them gently behind your ear.

His gaze lingered, his heart swelling with warmth and affection.

You had worked yourself to the point of exhaustion, and as much as he admired your dedication, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for letting you get this far without insisting on rest.

He knew how much this interview meant to you, but he also knew that you needed sleep just as much.

Suguru rose to his feet, stepping behind your chair as he gently placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/n,” he whispered softly, his voice barely above a breath. There was no response. You were too far gone in sleep to even stir. He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Stubborn as always."

Without another word, he slipped his arms beneath you, careful not to wake you as he lifted your limp form from the chair. Your head lolled softly against his chest as he cradled you in his strong arms, the weight of your body nothing compared to the warmth in his heart. The blanket that had once been draped over your shoulders fell away—forgotten as Suguru began to carry you out of the office.

The hallway was dark, lit only by the dim light of the moon filtering through the windows. The soft sound of his footsteps was the only noise in the stillness of the house. He glanced down at you as he walked, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept soundly against him.

As he reached the bedroom, Suguru nudged the door open with his foot and crossed the room to the bed. He laid you down gently, his movements careful and precise, not wanting to disturb your sleep. Once you were settled, he pulled the covers up to your chin, tucking you in with the same tenderness he had shown all evening.

For a long moment, he stood beside the bed, just watching you sleep. His eyes softened as he took in the sight of you, safe and sound under his watch. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words barely audible in the quiet of the room.

Suguru straightened up, brushing a hand through his long hair before glancing back at you one last time, soaking in your effortless beauty.

He smiled softly to himself as he quietly left the room, knowing you would wake up tomorrow feeling refreshed—whether you wanted to or not.

[honeybelleee]

Stabbed, You’re Next!

| Chapter One |

Synopsis

When Y/N's best friend, Wonyoung Jang, is brutally murdered after uncovering a corruption scheme involving the school's staff, Y/N finds herself pulled into a dangerous game. With only a cryptic email and a folder of incriminating evidence, Y/N must team up with Wonyoung's boyfriend, Mingyu and a tech-savvy loner, Jake to expose the truth. But as the body count rises, Y/N realizes the conspiracy goes deeper than she ever imagined-and the killer is always one step ahead. Trust no one, because in this game, anyone could be next.

Pairings

Jake Sim x F!reader (It will progress rily slow)

Genre

Mystery, thriller, crime, heavy angst, slowburn fluff

TW

This story contains themes of violence, murder, and death, including graphic depictions of a stabbing and blood. It also explores corruption, fear, and grief, as the characters deal with loss, danger, and being stalked by a killer. Themes of paranoia and emotional trauma are present.

Notes

First fic posted on tumblr, ignore the details of the text messages places (its unorganized)!

Prev - Masterlist - Next

____________________________________________

I hurried down the empty halls of Riverton High, my footsteps echoing in the silence. My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of fear and determination driving me forward. I clutched my phone in one hand, the last message from Wonyoung glowing on the screen. "Meet me at the lab. Hurry."

I had never seen Wonyoung so frantic, so terrified. It was unlike her to be anything but composed and in control. Something was very wrong, and I needed to find out what.

As I approached the science lab, the silence seemed to grow thicker, more oppressive. I could feel a chill in the air, the kind that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. I hesitated for a moment, my hand hovering over the door handle. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.

The sight that greeted me was something out of a nightmare.

Wonyoung lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath her. Her eyes were open, staring blankly at the ceiling, and her once-vibrant face was now a mask of terror and pain. My breath caught in my throat, and I dropped my phone, the clatter echoing in the stillness.

"No," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Wonyoung, no."

I stumbled forward, my legs feeling like lead. I fell to my knees beside her, my hands hovering over my friend's lifeless body, not knowing what to do. Tears streamed down my face as I reached out to touch Wonyoung's cold hand, the reality of the situation crashing down on me.

I had to call for help. I had to do something.

I scrambled for my phone, my hands shaking so badly I could barely dial. I managed to press the emergency number, and the operator's calm voice was a stark contrast to the chaos I felt inside.

"112, what's your emergency?"

"There's been a murder," I choked out, my voice breaking. "At Riverton High. In the science lab. Please, hurry."

As I waited for the police to arrive, my mind raced. Who could have done this? Why would anyone want to hurt Wonyoung? I looked around the lab, my eyes searching for any clues, any sign of the killer. But all I saw were shadows and the lifeless form of my best friend.

The wail of sirens broke the oppressive silence, growing louder as they approached the school. I sat by Wonyoung’s side, my mind numb, my heart shattered. The lab was now a crime scene, and my life, once filled with mundane worries and school dramas, had been irrevocably changed.

Police officers and paramedics burst into the lab, their professional detachment a stark contrast to the horror of the scene. They quickly assessed the situation, and a paramedic gently guided me away from Wonyoung’s body, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders.

Detective Lee, a seasoned investigator with a keen eye for detail, arrived shortly after. She surveyed the room, her gaze sharp and assessing. Her eyes softened slightly when they landed on me, recognizing the trauma etched on my face.

"I'm Detective Lee," she said gently, crouching down to my level. "Can you tell me what happened?"

I took a shaky breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "I got a message from Wonyoung," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. "She said she found something and needed to talk. When I got here, I found her like this."

Detective Lee nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Did she mention what she found?"

I shook my head. "No, just that it was urgent. She seemed really scared."

Lee's eyes flickered with concern. "We'll need to take you down to the station to get a full statement. Is there anyone we can call for you?"

I thought of my parents, how worried they must be. I nodded, giving the detective their contact information. As the officers continued to work around me, collecting evidence and photographing the scene, I felt a deep sense of helplessness.

Hours later, after giving my statement and being comforted by my parents, I returned home. I couldn't sleep, my mind racing with unanswered questions. I sat at my desk, staring at my laptop, determined to find out what Wonyoung had discovered.

Whatever it was, it had been important enough to risk everything. I logged into my email, hoping to find some clue, some piece of the puzzle that Wonyoung had left behind.

In my inbox, I found a draft email from her. It was addressed to me, but never sent. My heart pounded as I opened it.

"Y/N, if you're reading this, it means something has gone terribly wrong. I found out about a corruption scheme involving some of the school's staff. They're embezzling funds and manipulating grades. I have evidence, but I don't know who to trust. Be careful. They're dangerous."

My breath caught. Corruption? Embezzlement? It all seemed so surreal, so out of place in our high school. But Wonyoung had never been one to make baseless accusations. I read the email again, my mind trying to process the enormity of what it implied.

I knew I couldn't do this alone. I needed help, someone I could trust. My thoughts turned to Mingyu, Wonyoung's boyfriend. He might know more about what she had been involved in. And then there was Jaeyun Sim, or mostly known as Jake, the tech-savvy loner who could hack into just about anything. He might be able to find digital

traces of Wonyoung’s investigation.

I stared at the screen, the words blurring as the weight of everything hit me again. This was real. My best friend was dead, and I was the only one who could finish what she had started.

Taglist

@heeseungspookie @woorcve @sumzysworld

[megumisgirl]

furtrated tears megumi x fem! (writer/poet) reader

when a day shines so brightly it blinds you, and causes you to sheild your eyes from the light, you know you started your day right. you get up early, do a little work-out, or read a book, take some time to yourself before you study, exams are near and you need to prepare. you can't focus, your head isn't in the right space.

you let yourself go. you feel yourself slipping away from the grasp of reality. you rely on a coping mechanism, try to find something to push yourself to the max. find something, anything to think that you are good enough. something that you know you can do and you know you can excel at. something that will not make you cry and sob and punch the wall.

but... is it enough?

the sound of typing makes the raven haired boy snap his neck at your direction. your eyes were focused on your laptop, headphones covering your ears as a thick straw sat in between your lips. that overly sweet pearl drink you always have wet your throat as you tried to finish of your book. you were down to the last chapters. and that's when it hit.

your typing slowed down before eventually stopping. you chewed on the straw, the pearly balls popping in your mouth as you nervously tapped your nails on the table. "what rhymes with 'odyssey'?" you asked out, making megumi turn his head to look at you once again. he hummed softly, looking over at your laptop. he could only see the white of the google docx and the title, with the tiny letters only writing one line. the caret blinking continuously.

"uh.. i don't know," he shrugged, "pussy rhymes with odyssey." he said, making you blow through your cheeks as you turned to look at him. hopeless. you stared at him blankly as he sighed softly, "what? i'm just kidding." he said, before getting off the bed with a small grunt and walking up to you. his hands went to your shoulder, pressing on them with his weight as he tried to ease some tension. "leave that be," he said.

"i can't!" you groaned, "i need to finish it before-" your voice was loud and almost in a tone as if you two were fighting.

"leave that be," he repeated, his voice calmer and composed. he watched you as you buried your face into your hands. "stop stressing about it. if you force yourself to get ideas it will never come," he said, moving all your hair from your back to one of your shoulder, "just take a small break," he whispered, kissing the nape of your neck before pulling your chair back and turning it around so you were facing him. "what do we say?"

you sighed softly, feeling embarrassed to be babied like this but also liking a part of it. but at the same time frustration did not go easy. writer's block was messing your mind. days after days you sat in front of your laptop, staring at the blinking caret, hoping it would move by itself and write a masterpiece but it doesn't. and it was exhausted. "i don't care what we say." you sighed, "i need this to be finished, it's-" your voice got slightly heavier, cracking as you closed your eyes and buried your face on your hands once again.

"oh, baby." megumi sighs, kneeling in front of you as his hands went to your thighs. the touch wasn't sensual, it was soft and sweet and caring. he took your hand in his, brining it away from your face to see your glossy eyes and cheeks. kissing your knuckles he softly spoke again, "you're a great writer. it shows in the way you talk and in the way you see the world. if you hit a little wall you can't just break down like this, butterfly." he sighed, his words gentle and sweet.

"just keep on going. i'm sure you'll find something better to write about," he said, wiping your tears away as he stood up, his hand going under your chin to make you look up at him. "you're so tired, aren't you, angel?" he asked, sighing softly. his heart broke for his little girl. how could he be so cruel to not see everything she was going through? what kind of a boyfriend was he? "let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice sweet and caring.

"let me take care of you and your sweet little pussy, yeah?"

nsfw

in minutes you were sprawled on the bed, your skirt pooling around your waist as he buried his face in between your legs. his tongue lapped at your folds, taking in each and every drop that came out of you. his breath fanned against your skin, creating a ticklish sensation as you whined softly, your eyes closing as your hands went to his hair. he looked up at you, face contorted in pleasure as he pulled away.

when he thought you were wet enough, he took you so well. it wasn't rushed, or aggressive, or rough. it was smooth and slow and loving. enough to clear your head and give you some great inspiration. he took you in missionary first, eyes locked, whispering the sweetest things known to man and then matting pressing, watching his cock disappear inside you with each thrust and finally ending it with hugging you close and kissing your forehead, cuddling you as good as one can.

you were very clear headed from then.

writer's note:

hello !! thank you so much for having the patience with me and waiting for so long. i think i last posted here a year ago? and i am genuinely sorry for leaving without any trace.

one of the reason was the lack of use of this app for me. i'm not that active in the tumblr community per say. i mean, i just write, post, read other blogs and leave the website. i do have one or two friends from here and i genuinely adore them! but still i just don't find the time to get back here for some reason. but i will try to be consistent from now on.

second reason was for my exams. i am a cambridge student and i have a TON of responsibilities right now since my o-levels just finished and my AS and A2 are coming up. if you're a cam student hmu cuz i need tips on how to pass fr. but yeah, it's a lot of pressure and i'm just super exhausted guys.

anyways, sorry for venting. i really needed that lol. but i hope u liked this promt!!!! it's an old draft i rewrote and i kinda like it :3 hope u enjoy it! comment any criticisms you have; this is a critique friendly blog! (don't do it, i will cry.)

divider from @schizsou !!

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

u might want to cut this ask into 2... sorry?

so more like cantrips vs full blown artifacts, that eases so many worries. i wonder if anyone would change their vote knowing this lol.

you wanted ideas? lets build off the new info from the artifacts! im running off the assumptions that this is pre curse break.

the phoenix stone- reader could be stuck in rain, trying to stay warm by lighting up the stone, but as the weather gets more windy and the sun goes down it starts getting too cold to stay on, reader tries warm breaths and body heat just to get it starting so it can self sustain on its own heat from its flames. bonus if she is actively putting herself in harms way to warm it up so the monkeys can use it as a heat source.

forest stone- reader could grow plants from home, maybe native food from home and just have a bittersweet interaction over getting to see native crops but being unable to consume them safely. maybe reader grows a garden someday? a bouquet for a would-be human lover? or after they 'mysteriously' disappear, flower crowns for the monkeys? a garden would be nice to remind reader of home

for the healing part of the stone, reader could heal the monkey duo! what's not to say the curse slowed down their healing? imagine the bonding from one of the monkey duo seeing reader doing their very best to patch up the other? they could fake injuries to try and get more one on one 'healing' time. or reader could try and fail to heal a fever, and rely on traditional methods to break it.

the shield amulet- it may be impenetrable, but is it immovable? can reader move while its up? because if she cant, its a test of patience that the monkey duo will win. she cant grow food it will be too slow. she could threaten to eat something fatal tho… playing with fire there. what is stopping sun wukong from stealing it in readers sleep? nothing. bet the only reason he hasn't is because his mate convinced him that its the equivalent of a stuffed toy for reader : it makes her feel safe, even if it really doesn't lol.

im going to straight up guess that the glamor mask is either your oc appearance or a demon monkey form. would be funny if it were a genderbend mask tho. just straight up switch the gender if they try and pull gender related shenanigans. "what princess/queen? i only see men between the 3 of us"

just as i was about to hit send, a wild idea approaches!

[maybe i will polish this and put it on ao3 when i have the time, the will and the patience, probably not though]

this is way outside the scope of the artefact's powers but imagine if reader dies inside the shield, and it stays up. they can't shatter it, and the forest stone slowly but surely grows around the shield, hiding readers body from view.

the plants outside can be cut down, but the plants inside can't. the duo have to deal with the fact that, slowly but surely, reader's body is being hidden from them, and one day will be the last day they will ever see her, inside her would-be coffin, the thing that stopped them from saving her.

oh, how they regretted not throwing it away when they had the chance and now it will not even give them the ability to give her a proper burial. away from flower fruit mountain, will she buried under the sands of time forgotten, left to rot?

unacceptable. clones are left behind to guard her final resting place, the plants growing to make a flowerbed for reader to rest on. any who approach are struck down without mercy.

in the meantime, they need to make a visit to Diyu.

inside the shell of a last stand, a metamorphosis takes place.

they come back, heartbroken. she was not from these lands, and thus was not taken by those reigning over the dead. there was no name to strike from the records, no spirit to rescue from diyu.

they come back to see the site that they left so lovingly preserved in ruins.  all the plants that were growing were trampled and dying, the area carved by the fights the clones must have put up. not a single one was left.

and worst of all, in the very center of it all, the final resting spot was disturbed.

someone took her. somebody had the GALL to break in and steal her body from her final resting place, and they weren't even here to protect her!

they weren't able to protect her again, protect the last thing they had of her.

they would make sure that the perpetrator will wish they had lost to the clones.

above them all, in the treetops, a monkey cub holds its breath, watching.

lmao, i was going down the angst train at full speed, but decided describing the grieving process and the false hope i was giving them only to brutally crush it before their very eyes was maybe a sign i was going too far on the angst ride. idk how much angst is acceptable here so i decided to make reader turn into a monkey for the lols.

i wonder if they would be able to see through it using their true sight. hahaha must suck to the one stuck as a monkey cub now huh?

i like to imagine that reader gets found by them but they don't realise its her, just as she doesn't realise it's them[she died while they were still cursed], and they decide to adopt her in memory of the human who cared for 2 cubs she saw needed help. and reader gets to be at ground zero to see these two warlords grieve.

who does she think they are grieving for?

OBVIOUSLY THE MONKEY CUBS SHE HAD WITH HER, ARE YOU STUPID?? THERE WAS NO WAY THEY SURVIVED THE ATTACK, AND THERE WERE TWO FLOWER BOUQUETS FOR THE TWO CUBS THAT MATCHED THEIR COLOR SCHEME AND THEY LOOKED JUST LIKE THE CUBS! WHY ON EARTH WOULD TWO MONKEY DEMON WARLORDS GRIEVE FOR HER???

truly a foolish thought that could only come from such a foolish human to die such a stupid death and make the cubs die with her!

she was back, but they weren't. she wasn't the one to pay the ultimate price for her mistake.

did spirit grieve for her? did she come back only to she that she had died while she was away, reluctantly leaving to find a nearby village only after reader reassured her that she would be safe with the shield amulet, that it would be alright.

and they died because of her. spirit had to come back to their corpses because of her. the monkey demon pairing had to come back to their children's corpses because of her.

i would imagine the experience made her more introverted. more quiet, less willing to make friends. effectively mute. while the shield from the amulet may have fallen, another shield has formed around her heart.

would the monkey duo realise that reader was with them? would they brush it off as wishful thinking, as them projecting their false hopes onto a random monkey that perhaps they weren't too weak, too late? would they draw parallels between their curse and the cub in front of them? would they beg her for a sign?

would reader, drowning in guilt, give it to them?

what would the troop think? they see their kings grieving, ignoring the cub sometimes to go on rampages, and other times begging at its feet as if to ask for salvation. what sort of life is this for that poor cub, to have to endure their grief-induced psychosis?

no, it would be best for the cub to grow in a stable environment, at the very least until the kings recover from their grief.

it takes the duo 5 days to realise what has happened. it's hard to remember about the cub you so callously adopt when you are too busy going off on rampages throughout heaven and earth after all.

when the duo finds out why the cub is missing they just collapse, emotionally. reader is dead. she isn't coming back. and there is nothing they can do about it. the monkey duo don't leave their bed nest and are inconsolable.

reader feels bad for them, it's all her fault after all, that they lost their kids[she still believes this]. so she goes into their room, where they reminisce aloud about reader, and reader, who is unintentionally eavesdropping, finally figures out that A) its HER that they're grieving, and B) THEY'RE HER CUBS! THEY'RE NOT DEAD! SHE DIDNT KILL THEM!

she is so relieved she starts crying, and they hear her call out for them, not by the names everyone knows them as, but the nickname they got from the one person they miss the most:

"plums? peaches?"

denial, if i remember right, is the first stage of grief. they're in denial at first. who wouldn't be? they saw her die, they saw her die. their eyes cant lie their ears can't lie their nose can't lie she was dead dead DEAD-

anger is next i think. how dare that cub call them by those names, only reader can call them by those names! only she can, only her, only her!

but how could the cub know those names if not for her?

bargaining is the third stage.  its quite an odd thing, to bargain with the small, fluttering bit of hope inside of you. to bargain with oneself, to say that you will believe that if its her if she says it again, if she says something again, if she says anything again!-

"is it really you?"

you wouldn't expect to hit depression, would you? reader is back! They're back and they were here the entire time! they've been leaving you alone all this time, grieving for you all this time, and you were here all this time all along. so many tears, so much misery, and when they find out that you were here the entire time, the only thing they can feel is numbness as they reach out to you.

and you

reach back.

being crushed in an embrace between the two, you feel the shaking first, their tears streaming down their cheeks. you hug them as tightly as you can. they hug you back.

and as you look into their eyes you see acceptance. acceptance of the fact that you are back that is is real that you are in their arms, alive, here-!

that they love you too much to let you go.

while they dont care if you arent human or not, it is a bit worrying that you turned into a cub, like they did. did the curse transfer to you? is this something new?

after talking things through, you realise most of the artefacts 'malfunctioned' in a way. the shield didn't fall even in death, the forest stone grew plants nonstop around you. you found them on you and took them with you.

what happened to the glamor mask and phoenix stone?

sun wukong and macaque swear up and down that they searched, and not a single artifact left your bubble.[they were looking for something, anything of yours that they could keep on their person because you were dead-].

you had them all on you. and well, you did come back from the dead, right?

but that doesnt explain the where the glamor mask went! you didnt have it on you! you would have known if-

...

you tear off [not your face not your face NOT YOUR FACE]

the mask

off of your face.

...

a giggle leaves your mouth. well that was a bit silly wasn't it! if you had less self control and clawed off not your face perhaps this would have been solved much earlier!

well at least you were with your monkeys again.

________

ok now i gotta stop for real. i wrote this with no sleep so ahve mercy on spelling mistakes that slip through. have a nice day

Sorry about the confusion 😅. I always thought artifacts were old enchanted items so it didn't cross my mind to explain all of the weaknesses. Was probably going to later but eh who knows when it's me we're talking about.

For the heat, she would totally put herself into danger trying to get it to work. Spirit of course would try to bundle her up in clothes but they don't have all that many. (Spirit is covered in thick fur and less perceptible to the cold, which makes it worse for her because she can't stand the fact that her sister is probably freezing to death)

The monkey duo would be curled up in her arms trying to both be warm and share their heat with her. They'd probably be snuggled up against her chest holding onto her undershirt for closer skin contact as that would help aid in real warmth. They can't even enjoy this because of how cold they are! (It helps them decide that it's best she stay on Flower Fruit Mountain where she would always have the supplies she needs to stay safe and warm)

For the Forest Stone - I could totally see Reader making flowers. Oh, a human man thinks they're pretty. Here, he can have them sure. Cue monkey duo finding a way for this human to go missing. Was he a lover? They wouldn't care. He was a threat because he might become one. They can't let that happen, not at all. She was there human, theirs!

Another thought goes to your idea with the healing stone! Oh my word, these two would be trying for snuggles so badly that they would totally do that. A little scrape on the hand, it's not bleeding and doesn't even bruise, but it 'hurts.' Reader would try to help them immediately, of course. It's just another reason they want to keep her, once they decide they are going to.

For the patience on the sheild Macaque would obviously win in a test of patience. Depending on the situation there could be another thing that happens.

Reader can summon the sheild anywhere, I'm yoinking the idea of it being immovable to an extent. She can only summon one sheild and that sheild can be summoned to protect someone else. In order to move it she has to deactivate it and reactivate it. So that gives a window of opportunity for the Monkey duo.

Say she has the sheild up and then a group of human merchants come to pass by. Well, the Monkey duo likes her, yes, but who's to say they won't threaten the merchants. (They totally would if they are desperate enough) cue Reader making the sheild cover them. Which, of course, leaves her open to 'attacks' one attack being bombarded in snuggles and kisses.

>>><<<

Idea for the fic idea. I loved your idea with the glamour mask. But- I forgot to mention that the mask is still visible while the user is glamoured. (If you make a fic with an altered mask that isn't visible, that is absolutely fine. I would definitely read it for sure.)

So personally, I'd just have the curse kinda transfer to Reader instead. Depending on when the found her depends on if Wukong has his gold vision yet. Since this starts before the war on heaven, he doesn't have it because he hasn't gotten stuck in the furnace yet.

Also, they would totally take Reader in, even before meeting Reader or any of that. Orphan monkey cubs are always welcome in their home (they are quite biased to their own kind, so they are always offered a place in their kingdom. That's not to say some refuse or still fight them, of course)

Yes, the Monkey duo would definitely travel to diyu and return heartbroken. Would her body still be there probably not, if it's because she actually died she might get pulled back to her world and that might save her.

Or if the curse was transfered to her hoho, now her reaction on telling them would depend on so many things. She might feel guilty thinking they are grieving their cub but seeing the absolute devastation they cause would be terrifying.

Once she learns that it's her that they are doing this for she might get more terrified or be happy. She would be happy her monkeys survived, and she could still be terrified at the absolute power they held.

What would they do with her when they learned the truth? She'd heard stories about these two, Spirit tells her about them, and her monkey friends had liked listening to stories. (Wukong probably liked hearing the fear and terror he spread around)

Did they want revenge that she dragged them with her when they fought at first? If so, why were they mad she was gone? Did they want to make her a breeding mate? There were some demons that tried during her journey. They wouldn't want to make her a true wife, right? She was just a human woman, and the Monkey duo hated humans. She had passed through a town devastated by their kingdom before.

So maybe she would be too terrified to let them know, maybe she'd try to find a way to break the curse and return home. She might try to hide from them more.

In this case they might pick her up and as gentle as they can force her to let them take care of her. Via spoon feeding, and making sure she drinks water. And since she's so young they would make her sleep in their nest with them.

There are so many ways this story could go, both happy and joyful or sad and fearful. You said angst well how would the Monkey duo feel about the one they love being too scared of them to let them help break the curse? They would be so happy she's alive yet so scared of how much weaker and smaller she is verses how she already was.

If she tried to escape before they find out and failed. Oh boy there would be no getting away from them once they learn the truth.

But of course if she's not afraid of them, then she'd probably try to communicate who she is. With broken chirps as she doesn't know tne language at first, the curse would probably mess with the communication that she was granted. So cue her trying to learn the language so she can tell her heartbroken monkeys that it's her, she is reader. Since they don't call her Reader and probably gave her a different name. Oh the possibilities.

>>><<<

I would love to hear your thoughts on this! Everyone is welcome to send me an ask about these! I was bouncing in my seat as I read this ask, I loved the fic! To know my fanfiction helped inspire it 🥰 makes me feel so cozy.

Please send me more ideas, if you have them. No pressure. Or you can just send me something to say you liked my idea or not.

[nuclearanomaly]

something something First AU? pose ref

[lollytea]

Huntlow situationship gives me such intense brain termites you don't get it

[sunflowermp4]

karma's gotta come for all of us

i just hope she comes for you first

[domokunrainbowkinz]

back by unpopular demand: me, with my manhwa posting :)

titles discussed:

the pawn' revenge (18+)

sign (18+)

dawn of the dragon (18+)

cold blooded beast / in cold love (18+, idk why manta and lezhin translated it differently...sidenote I prefer the manta tl, it was more smoothly translated imo)

necromancer survival

red limit (18+)

frenemies: thicker than blood (18+)

dead man's switch (18+)

in the doghouse (18+)

4 week lovers (18+ on lezhin, 15+ on manta)

the pawn's revenge (18+) - i love you crime thrillers i love you damaged manipulative protagonists and i love you ride-or-die ML's who will do anything for love. it's a pretty gritty story about being sold off as a prostitute to the red light district, and what you would do to escape that situation, even if that means teaming up with a kidnapper/serial killer to claw your way to the top. ofc it does develop beyond that, and especially in s3 i am really interested to see how je-oh will go against hee-seo, as well as how he's gonna go about addressing the fact he genuinely loves and cares about seong-rok, despite his better judgment. idk man i just really love je-oh as a character, i want to study him under a microscope. i'm always biased towards manipulative characters who are a little fucked in the head <3 i really liked this one, but i would proceed with caution because there is non-con/dub-con in this one (not between the MC and ML except for 1 instance in s3).

sign (18+) - god this shit was so cute i wanted to explode. it's a pretty low-stakes, feel-good, fluffy read with some pretty good smut. it's about a guy who works part-time at a cafe owned by a deaf person, and their relationship is so OUGH..........god they're so cute, they are so down bad for each other and at the very end i thought to myself "damnb...maybe love IS real.......". i'm not deaf so i can't fully speak on how well the story represents deaf people, but just from an outsider's perspective it doesn't feel like the story treated him as an object of pity nor does it erase his disability, and he also has a lot of agency with regards to his decisions, so he's definintly not depicted as helpless. i do want to say that the plot does dry up a bit in s3 and it mainly focuses on the side couple (which unfortunately i wasn't super interested in), but other than that i HIGHLY recommend this if you're looking for a light read!! i have this bookmarked as a comfort read and it's also one of my faves for now <3

dawn of the dragon (18+) - i'm always a sucker for reincarnation stories and clingy ML's, so this one got me hook line and sinker. the dragon ML is so cute, i want to tuck him in and give him some hot choccy <3 the MC is also such a funny asshole, and his relationship with the ML is such a delight to read. one thing i do wanna say tho is they used the amnesia plot device twice???? once for the ML and another time for the MC, which made me go "ok......but why......???" like idk i don't think it was necessary to give the MC amnesia, it almost just felt like an excuse to go back to the chasing phase rather than have them in an established relationship. just my opinion though eheh 🤪

cold blooded beast / in cold love (18+) - not sure why manta and lezhin translated the title differently, but i will say right now that i think the manta tl is better. for some reason the lezhin tl localized a lot of terms (they changed "imugi" to "basilisk" and "yeoju" to "magic stone (????)") which confused me like just add a tl note, i PROMISE it's not gonna kill you to keep the original terms. it's another reincarnation story involving dragons and tragic pasts and amnesia, and the ML has 2 (two) dicks babey!!!!!!!!!!! i did finish the entire story through a fan tl, and overall it's a pretty standard supernatural romance, i honestly have no strong feelings about this one.

necromancer survival - i read this one a while back and totally forgot about it....anyways i have a BONE to pick with this one, i've seen so many people rave about it but i ended up not liking it and i'm so mad about that!!!!!!!! on the surface it seems like something i'd like, but the way it was executed just made me go "meh.....", and i think a lot of that stems from me just straight up not liking the MC (i know these types of MC's are supposed to elicit a "protect him uwu" instinct from readers but instead he made me go "grow a spine!!!! fight back!!! FIGHT BACK!!!!!!!!!" anyways he made me want to tear my hair out) and the only reason i even finished all the available chapters is because of the ML and his undead squad. a lot of people did say the novel is better and more explicit with the horror and romance, but as of right now i don't think i will read the novel, since again, most of my dislike stems from the way the MC was written. also i felt like the romance just came outta nowhere, like the ML treats the MC like shit and then suddenly develops feelings out of nowhere 🥴

red limit (18+) - i ALSO have a bone to pick with this one, like it could've been so good but then the author had to throw in some UNNECESSARY BULLSHIT in the last 5 chapters that soured the entire ending and side stories for me i was so mad!!!!!!!! like you didn't have to do allat 😭 everything before that was just so beautifully depicted and written, with the way they slowly show the relationship deepening, the way the level of intimacy increases with each interaction, the insecurity, the careful breaking down of walls AUGH....but then for SOME REASON they threw in some half-assed, forced misunderstanding at the end that made me go "HELLO???? WHY???????" i'm so bitter >:( going back to positives though, the art in this is so unique. the use of a grayscale palette with splashes of red is so striking, and i LOVED the use of full colour in certain panels to signify where the MC is at emotionally. i do think this is still a good read, but you'll just have to ignore the Bullshit at the end.

frenemies: thicker than blood (18+) - OUUUGH this one slapped!!!!!!!!! a childhood rivals-to-lovers murim story that i absolutely blasted through, the MC and ML's relationship is so ouuuuuuuuughhhh like they are each others' ride or die. i thought the plot was also quite interesting as well, since we get to see the power struggle within the murim society, and at its core, the entire plot is really a revenge story. i really liked this one as a wuxia danmei enjoyer, so i think other danmei fans would enjoy this one as well!!! i have this bookmarked as a comfort read, and it's also one of my faves now <3

dead man's switch (18+) - a zombie apocalypse BL manhwa!!!!! it's about a university campus overrun with zombies, and the MC and ML are trying to survive and escape to get help. at first glance the ML is a total psycho and seems to be abnormally obsessed with the MC, but at the end of S1 you find out why, though there are hints dropped throughout the first season that make you guess (unfortunately i was spoiled by a summary i saw online 😔 but it didn't take away from the enjoyment). i think fans of zombie media would like this one, it does play out a lot like a zombie movie (humans dividing into groups, hoarding food, survival of the fittest etc), so it feels pretty familiar.

in the doghouse (18+) - i'm gonna be real i'm just reading this to see how freaky the FL and ML are gonna get. the ML is a total masochistic sub looking for his sadist dom, and i am excited to see the FL finally become the femdom of his dreams. besides that though, i do love how the FL is written, the struggles she goes through with her parasitic family really make her feel disempowered and you can FEEL her frustration through the panels. anyways i'm rooting for you courtney become the femdom of richard's dreams babygirl <3

4 week lovers (18+) - i'm actually baffled there's a 15+ version that omits the sex scenes bc babey that's like 90% of the story. gonna be real here and say i don't know if the 15+ version is worth reading, because I think the sex scenes are probably the best part about this manhwa lol. i do like the relationship and they do have a lot of cute moments, but there's not really a plot besides in the first season where they get together at the end, after that it's just them developing their relationship and having nasty borderline-kinky sex. that's not to say there's no depth to the characters though, the MC's backstory is very sad and explains a lot about his behaviour, and his issues don't magically disappear once he and the ML enter a relationship. i'm still continuing with this one though because i do want to see how far they go with regards to the MC and ML's obsession with each other, and also i want to see how freaky they will get :)