#i don’t like this but i need to get back into writing!

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: boyfriend Katsuki's strange guilty pleasure, harassment, nasty online comments, noncon ideations, online pervs

♡ FEM reader

“I’m borrowing your laptop, Kats!” you call. 

He’s in the bath, so you’re not sure he heard you, but also, you don’t think it’s any big deal. You’ve been a couple for years now, and living together has only brought you closer. Besides, it’s not as if you’re going to snoop or anything—you’re just going to check something real quick while you charge yours.

You rethink it when you have to write in his password. Maybe it would be better to just wait for your own machine to get ready—it’s not as if you’re in a hurry or anything. But then again, at the same time, it doesn’t hurt to give it your best guess.

Right on the first try—your name and birthday. Though you appreciate the gesture, he really should see into getting something stronger than that. The information he is privy to through his work is quite sensitive, after all.

But anyway. Onto the task at hand. You click into the browser. It’s already got some tabs open. 

You don’t mean to let your eyes wander, but it just can’t be helped. Katsuki sits before this thing, sometimes for hours during the day. Of course, most of it is surely work-related, writing incident rapports and profiles and the like. But this page right here… you don’t know… something about it seems strange.

“Some type of forum…” you mutter to no one but yourself. Katsuki had never struck you as the type to neither read nor partake in other people’s banter. Again, you’d promised yourself you weren’t going to pry, but it only takes a few seconds to read the comments—it’s over before you can stop yourself.

I bet she’s a squealer, like a really cute squealer

I wanna tie her up in an abandoned building somewhere no one will hear her scream

Same, but not on the bed though, on the floor and take her like a bitch

I‘m sure dynamight fucks her every day, i know i would! 

Dynamight’s such a lucky guy I hate him

You blink reading through the comments—completely having forgotten what you were doing in the first place. Who are these people? What are these comments about? You keep scrolling, eyebrows knit, and then you see it—your name. 

She looks like the type of girl that lets her man fuck her anywhere he wants whenever he wants

I’d literally kill for an hour of having her alone. And I’d make good use of that hour. Make her dump that blond asshat to be with me.

If she were my girlfriend, I’d keep her leashed to the bed with a collar. Can’t have other guys looking at her when she’s mine.

I’d only feed her cum. Trust me, she wouldn’t go hungry.

You’re eyes are fully wide now. Are all these chats about you? What’s Katsuki doing in a place like this? Reading all these sick comments as if he isn’t your boyfriend.

“Hey!” A shout knocks you out of your trance—and startles you enough that it very nearly even knocked you off balance.

“What’re you doin’ on my computer?” he asks in accusation while taking hurried and thundering steps toward you—still wet from his shower, wearing nothing but a white towel around his lower half.

“Uh,” you struggle to find your voice, heart hammering in your chest, head spinning—feeling both caught red-handed and the exact opposite. “Uhm, nothing—I just—”

He rips the laptop off the desk, angry eyes staring at the screen—then quickly going round.

His face pales. You can practically see the goosebumps as they rise in a rush across his skin. 

He swallows thickly, jaw-locked—doesn’t even dare look at you as he asks the question, “Did you read?”

You almost consider saying no but decide against it. This wasn’t something you could just ignore. No, you needed an explanation. Who knows? It might be completely innocent.

“Some of it…” you confess.

He shudders, and then he places the laptop down again, slowly, soundless. He rests his hands on the table and leans his weight on them, head bowed, voice small.

“I just… I… It’s, well…” He scratches the back of his neck, looking for the words.

You’ve never seen him like this before. Katsuki is nervous. But you suppose it’s for good reason.

“It’s not what you think, okay?” he declares, finally looking at you. 

His face is something unfamiliar—riddled with this guilty anxiety you’ve never pictured before—frazzled. It’s completely odd.

“Okay,” you say calmly. You don’t know if you’re angry or not yet. You know you probably should be, but the look on the man’s face is making you feel sorry for him.

“I don’t agree with any of this,” he insists, gesturing to the laptop. 

“Well, yeah, I sure hope so,” you say, although the question still remains, “But why are you on there then?”

“It…” He’s blushing—profusely—bright vermillion-tipped ears and apple-red cheeks. He looks away again. “I don’t know…”

I don’t know is an excuse you’ve never heard come out of his mouth. In fact, excuse or not, it’s a phrase you didn’t think him capable of. But look at him now, using it the same childish way a kid would after being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You better not lie to me, Katsuki Bakugou—or I know someone who’s sleeping on the couch,” you finally find your strict tone. He’s crazy if he thinks this is something you’ll just forget about.

He sighs and then he falls into his desk chair, back hunched, hiding his face, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you close, nuzzling his head against you, mumbling under his breath, “It’s sick, and it makes me sick…”

You wait, giving him the time to figure it out.

“But it…” he continues. You feel his hands tremble just a bit before he confesses, “It makes me feel good.”

You’re not sure you understand, and so you ask for clarification, “What makes you feel good?”

He sighs again, and this time, his voice comes out dark and lusty, leaving no room for confusion, “To know that I have something everybody else wants.”

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist ♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist ♡ ALL masterlists

[metamatronic]

Firstly, I love your au! Your art is amazing, and the premise lives rent-free in my head

Question: When after the fazbear frights fire when Mike added Will to the list of ghost-robot roommates, how did Liz and CC react to seeing their dad after three decades?

I assume probably tear-fueled reunion mixed with a lot of questions

Like, I assume Will figured out what happened to Liz from context clues (ghosts possess robots=Liz is circus baby), but Liz definitely didn't know what happened to Will (esp bc not even Mike knew about him being springtrap in your au) so she would probably be surprised to see her dad back as a robot bunny with a corpse in it

Well, This Is Awkward

It’s funny—As much as Michael complains that Lizzie was spoiled rotten as a kid, he’s a pretty bad enabler. Of course, he’s not above letting her dig herself into a hole, especially in front of their father.

[2cupids]

warnings. popular!reader, oral (m. receiving), tittyfucking, tiny bit of degradation, cüm eating. mdni (17+).

wc. 1.9k… read part 1 here!

weeks had passed and a new semester had begun since that encounter with nerd!choso and it was a nearly forgotten memory in your head.

but for choso?

he thought about it everyday. it was like a driving force that helped him push through each day and he could only dream of getting so lucky again.

so the moment he saw you walking towards him as class was being dismissed, your ridiculously short skirt swaying as you moved, he knew his prayers had been answered.

“you busy? i need you to write that research paper for me.” you ask nonchalantly as you swipe the wand of your lipgloss across your bottom lip, reapplying it.

choso’s in a trance as he watches you put your gloss on your pretty lips. you were so alluring, so gorgeous. seconds pass and still no answer. you sigh and roll your eyes, looking down at choso and making contact with his bright eyes as he stares at you.

“well?” you furrow your eyebrows as your patience grows shorter and the nerdy boy has yet to answer. choso’s heart flutters at your harsh tone and he swallows the lump in his throat before he finally answers.

“n-no, i’m not busy. i could have it done by saturday.”

your hardened expression instantly softens at his words and you give him one of your sweet smiles. “good. i’ll pick it up on sunday.”

as you turn to walk away, choso stops you. “wait! um.. wh-what do i get for helping you?” choso asks quietly, averting his eyes down to look at your legs. he can’t look you in the eyes.

you turn to him, eyeing him up and down. “and who the hell are you to ask me that?” you smirk at him, but your tone is condescending. you’re offended he would even ask that. “you don’t need to worry about that, i’ll figure out it. just get my paper done.”

and with that, you’re walking up the stairs of the lecture hall and exiting the classroom. choso sits there for a moment, replaying what just happened and taking a moment to collect himself. he finally stands up and adjusts his pants, pulling his hoodie down to cover his boner before he leaves.

the days seem to pass by much slower than he would’ve liked until the long awaited day finally rolls around. choso’s mind is flooded with the multiple different scenarios that could play out, but hell, he would take anything you give him. and that’s only if you decide to pay him back for his kindness again this time.

he’s lost in thought when there’s a knock at his door and he rushes to open it, letting you in. his hands immediately reach for the paper and you quickly skim through it, slipping it inside your bag and setting it down on his desk.

“what should i do with you?..” you cross your arms and let your eyes trail down his figure before letting them rest on his face again. “i could make you put your mouth to use. i want my pussy ate, but i know someone like you doesn’t know how to eat it. and i don’t feel like teaching you either. just go sit on the bed.”

you wonder what you can do and that’s when an idea comes to you. you walk over to him and kneel down in front of him. “so where’s your bottle of lube?”

choso’s taken back. how did you know he even had some? probably just a lucky guess, but then again you are much more experienced than him. “i..um.. it’s in the desk drawer over there. the first one.”

a faint smirk plays on your lips as you roll your eyes and stand up to go get the lube. you pull your top off and throw it on the floor, revealing the lacy pattern of your bra underneath as you sit back on your knees in front of choso again. your eyes catch sight of choso’s face and you laugh, it doesn’t take much to get him worked up. being the tease you are, you give your boobs a nice squeeze. why not give him a little show?

your hands rub his thighs, slowly making their way up to unbuckle his belt and take off his pants. choso eagerly lifts his hips to let you pull his pants and boxers down his legs, and it’s laughable how excited he is.

you take his cock in your hand, quietly admiring the length and girth. it’s almost like he grew from the last time you saw him. you always heard about how nerds like him were packing, but you just thought it was a joke.. that was til choso proved you wrong of course.

his clear arousal leaks from the head of his dick and you can’t pull yourself to look away. without another thought, you lean forward and stick your tongue out, licking the precum that slid down his shaft and up towards the tip, swiping your tongue across the opening, collecting the salty liquid straight from the source. your pretty lips wrap around it and your cheeks hollow slightly while you circle your tongue around his tip.

choso groans and instinctively bucks his hips up. never did he think the guys he saw in porn were exaggerating when he watched a girl give them head, but he never expected it to feel so good. or maybe it just feels so good because the pretty girl he’s crushing on is the one who’s on her knees doing it to him.

you pull off his cock and lick the corners of your mouth as you eye the glistening head of his dick. your hands reach back and undo the clasps of your bra, letting your heavy breasts free as you pull the bra straps down.

choso’s eyes are locked on your every move and his lips part slightly as he watches you reveal your breasts to him. he’s never seen something so beautiful in his life.

“… so pretty.” he whispers more to himself, but it’s loud enough for you to hear.

the corner of your lips curl yet again as you glance up at him. “of course they are, dummy.”

you toss your bra onto the bed and reach for the bottle of lubricant, spreading the lube along his dick before taking one breast in each hand and nestling choso’s cock in between your chest.

choso nearly melts from the warmth that your boobs bring, then you start moving them up and down his length and it feels like heaven.

like the first encounter with you did. a pretty girl with her tits wrapped around his cock.. damn. not to mention the occasional moments when your tongue comes out and flicks over the opening. he can’t help but feel truly blessed.

you can’t miss the way choso’s face twists in pleasure with each drag of your breasts up and down his length even if you wanted to. the soft pants and groans that leave his parted lips have caused a sticky mess in between your legs, making your panties latch onto your wet cunt.

it’s not a surprise to you that choso busts quick, someone like him obviously would. his face is a dead giveaway, and so are his mannerisms and how his knuckles are white from gripping his comforter. he came fast the last time and in a way you find it oddly charming how quickly this nerd cums. what does surprise you though, is when he opens his mouth and starts to beg.

“please… please. can i t-touch them?” he whimpers, the desperation in his voice is clear. “i-i won’t ask for anything else.. just please.”

he looks down through his heavy eyelids, silently pleading with you, and you’ve got to admit that it’s hot. you bite your lip and make a small noise of approval, stopping what you’re doing and reaching for his hands to put them on your breasts.

his large hands squeeze the soft flesh, really feeling and savoring what it’s like to have a nice pair of tits beneath his palms before his hips jerk as he holds your boobs, fucking your chest.

“ohhh.” choso whines, “can i please cum? need... need your permission.” he doesn’t care how vulnerable he sounds, he just wants to hear you give him your approval.

and here you are again, finding yourself so turned on by his words that they’ve got your pussy clenching. you can’t let on that you’re having a change of heart towards him though, so you scoff. “what the fuck are you asking me for you fucking freak? of course you can.”

leaning back on your hands slightly so you have a better view, you watch choso start to come undone right in front of you. his eyes are squeezed shut and his mouth hangs open, letting the whiniest sounds tumble out of his mouth that you’ve ever heard from a man. you can feel his trembling body come to pause as he halts his movements, a second later your tits are covered in his hot cum.

his limp body continues to lay against the bed and when he opens his eyes again, he finds you still on your knees in front of him. one of your hands is holding your chest while you pick up some of his cum on your finger with your other hand, sucking it into your mouth.

you feel his eyes on you and you repeat the action with a grin. his heart skips a beat and he fears you might be the death of him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

after getting off the floor and back on your feet you grab a few tissues and wipe your face and tits before you make a random, split second decision. “keep the bra.”

choso almost chokes when he hears you say that. he opens his mouth to protest but he decides against it, knowing that whatever sharp response you say will get him hard again. you rummage around your bag before you pull out the spare bra you always carry. after all, a girl like you never knows what trouble she might get herself into.

choso watches you fix your appearance in the mirror and you catch his eye in the reflection, holding his gaze. “you know.. you’d look fine as hell if you got rid of those things.”

what ‘things’ do you mean?

choso is very obviously confused and you walk over to him with a smirk, yanking his glasses off his face and waving them in front of him. “these things, dumbass.”

you move closer to him and stand in between his legs, running a hand through his thick, dark locks. “you might actually be able to pick up bitches then.”

for some reason, you find yourself standing there staring at him for longer than you’d like to. you eventually let go of his hair and sigh, taking a step back and walking over to grab your bag, preparing to leave.

“what a shame.” you say quietly as you open the door to leave, and you truly do think it is a shame.

you’ll never admit it out loud, but maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to find that stupid little loser cute.

taglist — @cheezemanz @tojicvmslut

cleo’s note — i know some people are probably gonna ask for a part 3, but idk if i’ll keep this going so don’t get your hopes up 🥲. thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated!

[beloveds-embrace]

Anymore thoughts on your Emotional Support Omega?

Yeah i gotchu 🙂‍↕️ here are more thoughts before I write them jumping reader bc they can’t hold back anymore… or do I :3

Part One | Thoughts

When you first arrived, you were hopeful.

It was a quiet sort of hope- not naïve, not desperate- just a steady belief that, given time, they would let you in. Like watching a sand hourglass patiently.

You had been transferred specifically to support them, after all. 141 was an elite unit, but even the best soldiers carried their own burdens, and command had decided they needed someone like you. An Omega trained in psychological support, someone who could ease the mental and emotional strain that came with their line of work.

At first, they were polite. Cordial, even.

Price welcomed you with a firm handshake, his voice steady as he laid out his expectations and the rules. “You’ll have access to everything you need,” he had said. “If the lads need you, you’ll be there. But don’t push.”

Ghost was unreadable, distant even through the mask. He had given you a silent nod in welcome, and that was that. He didn’t scorn you, but he didn’t welcome you that vocally either.

Soap had been friendlier, but there was still an invisible wall between the two of you- one you’d thought you’d be able to scale, yet… you felt as if you’d failed at that. “It’s nothing personal, lass,” he had said after training one day, offering you a small grin after they’d refused your offered comfort once more. “We’re just… a tight bunch. Takes time to get in.”

Gaz was polite and charming as well, if a little reserved. “You’re good at what you do,” he admitted after your first week. “I see why command brought you in.” But there was an unspoken but at the end of that sentence- one that never left his lips but lingered in the space between you.

And so, you waited. You waited, and held out hope regardless.

You gave them space, but you were there when they needed you- which was frankly never. You listened, helped where you could, made sure they knew your door was always open.

But it never went beyond that.

There were no casual invitations to sit with them in the mess hall. No late-night conversations when missions ran long. No easy touches, no pack-scented comfort, no real inclusion. You were there, part of the team, but left to linger in the distant shadows left by their pack-soaked warmth.

You weren’t unwanted, exactly. They were never unkind.

But you weren’t theirs. It stung, even if you knew you should’ve expected better.

And slowly, that hope- the quiet, patient belief that they would one day accept you- began to wither like leaves in winter.

The first time you realized it wouldn’t happen, it was something small.

You had walked into a room to find them talking, their voices low but easy, a quiet camaraderie woven between them, easy laughter and shared ribbing at each other. When they noticed you, the shift was subtle but unmistakable. The conversation tapered off, the atmosphere cooling just slightly.

Soap had thrown you a quick smile. “Just mission talk,” he had said, waving a hand. “Nothing exciting, lass.”

You had nodded, pretending not to notice the way Ghost’s posture had stiffened, the way Price had only given you a brief glance before turning away, and Gaz had focused back on his phone. Silently, you’d left and pretended you didn’t hear the conversations pick up again.

The second time, it was worse.

It had been another rough mission, leaving the whole team exhausted and tense. You had tried- offered a quiet presence, a listening ear- but the walls had stayed up, firm and unyielding and you far too soft compared to them.

“You don’t need to worry about us, love,” Gaz had said, a little too lighthearted- effort needed. “We’ve been through worse. We’ve got each other.”

We’ve got each other.

And that was it: the message was clear.

You weren’t part of them.

You had spent years training for this work. You knew better than to take it personally- but it still hurt.

Yet, even as your hope for a place in their pack faded, something else began to take root.

You left your own imprint on the rest of the base, and for one who craved something social and close? You could almost weep from relief and happiness.

It started very small, because a whole base wouldn’t change on the whims of your wants and wishes, even if it was known what you were there for. A rookie, fresh from training, approached you hesitantly after a briefing, shifting on his feet as he asked for advice. You listened, reassured him, nuzzled his cheek with a chirp, and he had left looking lighter than before and just a touch dazed.

Then, a medic- one who’d patched you up multiple times by then- sought you out, quiet and weary after a brutal shift. She hadn’t said much- just sat beside you, resting in your warmth as your quiet purring filled the space.

Word spread; you were exactly what you were supposed to be, and damn good at it (even if for whatever reason, they rarely saw you with your own unit).

Alphas, Betas, Omegas- no difference. One particularly stiff-necked operator had come to you late one night, clearly wrestling with something unspoken. You had simply reached out, placed a comforting hand on his arm, and let the warmth of your presence do the rest. He had exhaled slowly, tension bleeding from his shoulders as he allowed himself, just for a moment, to lean into the comfort you offered.

By the time he left, there had been something lighter in his step; quite the common sight by then.

The mess hall- a place you dreaded when it become clear they wouldn’t invite you to join them- became a place where someone always sought you out. The common areas shifted, soldiers drifting toward you whenever you were around. Your quarters, once quiet and barely used, turned into an unspoken sanctuary for those who needed it.

And after that snowy mission, they began watching. Though they didn’t say anything at first.

Didn’t acknowledge the way it seemed the rest of the base was orbiting around you, how your presence had become something steady, trusted, for everyone but them.

But they still noticed, nonetheless, and something took root, green and gnawing.

You felt it in the way Price’s eyes lingered when he saw you talking with others, his jaw tight- tighter when it was with other Captains. In the way Ghost, who never cared for small talk, started hovering just a little closer, as if trying to understand why.

In the way Soap, once so casual, began inserting himself into your conversations, his usual grin just a touch strained when someone else got too close. His fingers would twitch, a shadow over his face.

Gaz, too, had started seeking you out- not in the open, not obviously, but in little moments. A lingering glance. A question that wasn’t really necessary. An excuse to be there.

They were watching, waiting, yet did not try to fully, flat out tell you that they want you.

And though you didn’t let yourself hope, not anymore- You wondered how long it would take before they finally gave in.

Omegaverse Masterlist

[kashverse]

love your writing style kash!! thank you for the beautiful fica that are so soft and heartwarming to read 😞🫰

could i request for a scenario where mamakuna is sick (like a flu/fever) and how babykuna and dadkuna work together to help her feel betterrrrr 😇 -v

the flu had been going around, and you knew it was only a matter of time before it got you. but knowing it was one thing—experiencing it was another. it hit you like a truck. fever, chills, congestion—the works. so when you called sukuna at his office, your voice hoarse and pitiful, he dropped everything, canceled an entire board meeting (screw the shareholders), and stormed out. by the time he gets home, he's expecting pure chaos. maybe the maids scrambling, maybe you barely conscious—something. instead, he walks into your shared bedroom and stops dead in his tracks.

there, at the edge of the bed, is babykuna, her tiny legs swinging, her face set in deep concentration as she places all her plushies around you in a perfect protective circle. labubu is at your pillow. sonny angel squad is stationed near your hands. he even spots one of his socks stuffed into the arrangement like some sort of talisman.

"…what are you doing?" sukuna asks, raising a brow. babykuna, without looking up, adjusts a bunny plush near your shoulder. “making mama better.” sukuna sighs, making his way to the bed, crouching beside you.

"baby, i have an entire medical team on speed dial. your mama doesn’t need—"

"papa, hush," she interrupts, waving a hand at him dismissively. “you don’t get it. they give comfort. the magic of the plushies is real.” sukuna opens his mouth, then closes it. you, meanwhile, weakly lift your hand. “it’s okay, love. i believe in the plushie magic too.” babykuna nods sagely, satisfied.

but sukuna is still sukuna, so even though he knows the maids could easily take care of you both, he wants to do it. so he sighs, rolls up his sleeves, and trudges to the kitchen. if you’re sick, then fine, he’ll do this properly. twenty minutes later, he returns with a bowl of steaming hot chicken soup, the way you like it. perfectly seasoned, just the right amount of garlic, and not a vegetable in sight (because he knows you’d push them aside). but before he can even set it down—

"mama should eat bread and jam," babykuna suddenly announces, pointing a spoon at you. sukuna’s eye twitches.

"she needs soup."

"she needs bread and jam."

"she needs something warm."

"bread is warm if you toast it."*

sukuna rubs his temples. "she doesn’t need bread and jam, brat—"

"what about appy juice?" babykuna interjects, swinging her legs, completely unfazed. "appy juice is good."

"baby, soup is literally proven to—"

"orange juice?"

"oh my god."

you, snuggled in your fortress of plushies, weakly smile, watching the two most important people in your life bicker over what’s best for you. sukuna sighs in defeat, scooping a spoonful of soup. "open up, baby," he murmurs, bringing it to your lips. before you can take a sip, babykuna gasps. 

“wait! the plushies have to approve first!”

sukuna, face blank, stares at his child. 

"…you’re kidding."

but babykuna is dead serious. she picks up labubu, holds it over the soup, then dramatically nods. “labubu says okay.” sukuna exhales slowly.

"great. tell labubu to shut up next time."

babykuna gasps in pure, unfiltered betrayal. “you take that back.” 

you, sick as you are, wheeze at the scene, your fever momentarily forgotten.

[pinkhoodi]

boyz in luv !

✎ᝰ — dc boys as romance tropes

♡⃕ — bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, wally west, kaldur’ahm x reader

♡⃕ — genre + warnings: fluff & jason is slight ooc cause I didn’t feel like writing moody child jason sawry

♡⃕ — a/n: woooo mia writes once again. yall peepin my consistency ?

꒰ BRUCE WAYNE ꒱

Ꮺ second chance ! — bruce is a man who excels in many things and one can say he has lived different lives, depending on who you’re asking. one thing he wished to excel in is romance, he has tried time and time again to be the perfect lover for someone yet that energy was never reciprocated back, unless for a hookup. not only that, his heart was never much into it when it came to all his previous lovers and he could never understand why. was something wrong with him? however, when it came to you, he felt that he gave his all, he felt himself pour more into you than he usually would with others. thus, the two of you ending things led to bruce feeling so much heartache to the point where he couldn’t handle it any longer. he needed to find a solution, a medication, something, anything to ease this pain in his chest. to think, the bruce wayne, aka batman, could feel emotional pain, who would’ve thought?

that pain led to longing, aching times of writing you letters, stopping by your job to see how you’re doing, looking through photographic memories, begging at your front door at one random night to ask what can he do to be back with you? he can no longer live a life without you and he genuinely doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

꒰ DICK GRAYSON ꒱

Ꮺ you fell first, he fell harder — to grayson, you were of quite importance. you two grew up in the same neighborhood until his parents was killed, you two attended the same school, and you two were always at each other’s side. if people were to find dick, they could find you next to him or somewhere near him. as years pass, and your friendship becomes deeper, dick finds himself growing feelings. as a young man, he couldn’t shake off these feelings that sprouted when you were around him. actually, neither of you could.

feelings always arose inside both of you when you two were in contact with one another, whether it be on the phone or him taking you out to a nice dinner. when you spoke, he could find himself dazed as he laid his eyes all over your beautiful features. when you lay your hand anywhere on him, as simple as the touch would be, the hairs on his body stick up, and finds himself getting hot as the touch lays on there.

the same would happen with you except the effects of his touch or his presence wouldn’t be as down bad as dick is with you. the potential crush that grew inside the both of you had made the simplest conversation become a rousing feeling to your beating hearts. except dick feels like his heart is close to exploding when he’s near you.

꒰ JASON TODD ꒱

Ꮺ childhood friends to frenemies to lovers — jason was sweet, jason was loving, jason was determined to be the brave boy just like his father. he was everything you dreamed and wanted from in a boy, since grade school you dreamed of jason todd being your dream boy. maybe it’s the crush, maybe it’s the crazy promise to each other that you’ll live together by the age of thirty if neither of you gets married. you don’t know what it is but it gave you the idea that you and jason will be stuck like glue till death do you part. a great idea for two grade schoolers but not for someone like you who was startled by jason’s behavior after being “missing” all these years.

either way, he was not the jason you’ve known and grown up with. this jason was coldhearted, brute, and didn’t have much care to be in your life, unlike younger jason. he came off with a cold shoulder and you came to the point that your friendship has gone away from his memories, you didn’t matter to him as much he mattered to you. at least, that’s what he wanted you to think.

throughout you dealing with and not wanting to accept this new jason, he was fighting with himself on whether he should make the best of your burned-out friendship to keep you from all danger or be selfish and keep your love with him, no matter the consequence you may both have to face. protect y/n and live with long-term yearning or protect your own heart and live in bliss with y/n? choose wisely jason, choose wisely.

꒰ WALLY WEST ꒱

Ꮺ unrequited love — the young man with so much to love but sometimes oh so clueless. he was intelligent and knew how to act in certain situations, making him quick-minded. however, he hasn't caught on when it came to catching hints of you flirting with him. which is strange for a man who likes to flirt with almost every woman in sight. then again, it’s the same for you when he tries to flirt with you and you just think of it as casual flirting. you don’t think anything of it since wally is a flirt, you usually just play on till you can’t anymore.

even when people assumed that you and wally have something going on, you would laugh it off and deny it. even if it does sting a bit to fake it and say that you and wally are friends, while you internally want something more. it’s not better on wally’s side either; his usual cheery and chill attitude dampers just slightly when he hears you say that the two of you are friends.

the situation of unrecognized unrequited love has both of you two’s hearts aching for one another. You don’t how long you can last by being “just friends” with wally and wally doesn’t know how long he’ll last by pretending that this crush isn’t eating him alive. as for now, friends till one confesses.

꒰ KALDUR’AHM ꒱

Ꮺ everyone sees it but them — oh kaldur, the handsome blonde man with facial features that’ll make the angels sing and a personality that could make anyone want to marry him. he’s extremely kind, soft-hearted, caring, has great leadership skills, and has everything that just screams he needs to be in your life. well, he is, as your friend, a close friend.

you two grew up together training in the young justice league and became close after one mission that almost cost you your life. he was there, by your side taking care of you and keeping watch until you completely healed. ever since then, you two has been stuck to the hip, unintentionally, and neither of you seems to mind. even when your teammates make lil comments, “look at the lovely couple” “aww when’s the wedding?” “there goes couple of the year”. you usually roll your eyes at the comments and go about your day with kaldur.

however, maybe the comments meant something; seeing as the way kaldur’s smile grows when you’re explaining something, your laughter that brings a sort of bliss to your ears. it also doesn’t help that konnor and wally notices the way kaldur lets his hand linger on yours until they’re intertwined, or the way your cheeks are so prominent when kaldur is around, and the loving expression that is present. your cheeks rise, a smile displayed, and your eyes tie it all into your facial expression potentially screaming, “I’m in love.”

but of course, the signals that everyone around notices, you two seem oblivious to notice. even when they try to point it out to either of you, you just use the excuse, “so, we’re friends. do friends not do that?” friends…right right, of course, friends!

♡⃕ technically, i had something similar for these hcs from the song “another life” by sza. but they didn’t come out how i wanted so we’re just gonna stick with these !

♡⃕ okay but the way I’ve been actually feeding yall likeeee 🤭

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: isaiah 41:13

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟧 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗂. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[fatalism-and-villainy]

Something I love about DS9’s framing of Jake Sisko is how he’s consistently positioned as someone worthy of protection, whose survival and flourishing and emotional well-being are of tantamount importance, and whose innocence and vulnerability are precious.

It’s present from all directions in The Visitor. Everybody protectively closes ranks around Jake upon Ben’s disappearance, with those little moments of Dax and Kira and Bashir giving him physical affection and reassurance and Quark going out of his way to be nice to him. Jake’s older self’s protective impulses towards his younger self, as well as his desire to save his father, are the basis for the timeline reset. And then after the spacetime continuum gets wrenched back in line purely to save Jake from the emotional trauma of losing his father, the episode ends with Ben, who’s borne witness to everything and is the only one who remembers it all, continuing that work of shielding Jake from that knowledge.

And then Nor the Battle to the Strong carries on the thread of protectiveness towards Jake, in that case as part of the episode’s deconstruction of military heroism. As he’s marinating in shame over bailing on the mission to retrieve the generator, Bashir apologizes to him and says he was wrong to put Jake in harm’s way in the first place. And then at the end, he wakes up after sealing the cave entranceway and both Bashir and his father are tenderly looking after him, with similar imagery to The Visitor in terms of him being symbolically cradled by the other cast members’ concern for him. He never needs to toughen up or grow out of that need to be rescued - in fact, his fear and panic and feelings of being out of his depth prove to be immensely valuable, as his last conversation with his father emphasizes, because he’s able to bear witness to the experience of the soldiers through his writing.

That comes through in a really interesting way in Valiant as well, with Jake’s emphatic concern for his own survival in the midst of all the culty militaristic weirdness of the Valiant crew:

Nog: You don’t understand, because you’ve never put on one of these uniforms. You don’t know anything about sacrifice, or honor, or duty, or any other things that make up a soldier’s life. I’m part of something larger than myself. All you care about is you.

Jake: That’s right. All I care about is Jake Sisko and whether or not he’s going to be killed by a bunch of delusional fanatics looking for martyrdom.

And I love that exchange not only because it’s a rare articulation of how I would actually feel in a situation like that in a franchise full of characters who are all prepared to sacrifice themselves in the line of duty, but also because in the context of the episode, Jake’s position is actually the heroic one! It’s his sense of self-preservation, and the fact that he hasn’t romanticized the notion of heroic sacrifice, that enables him to see through the dogmatic ideology of the Valiant cadets and recognize how dangerously out of their depth they are. And it’s just a nice articulation of his own worth.

(And of course the Defiant rescues them at the end, because Jake’s grown up now, but he hasn’t outgrown needing his father to save him. And that’s never a shameful thing, but a really beautiful thing, and necessary to the fabric of the show.)

[girl-lostconnection]

YOUR FRUIT BAT READER HAS MY WHOLE HEART 😩😭🫶🏻 any more thoughts to spare… no pressure tho i absolutely adore your writing <333

- @beloveds-embrace

For @beloveds-embrace. Some not the most appropriate thoughts about Price and Reader for you, friend

I’m thinking about fruit bat!Reader x Komodo Dragon!Price whom it takes some time to get to their core.

Price who’s uncharacteristically careful, feeling like a right twat after realising he doesn’t know much about their new addition to his team. New addition to his boys.

Price returns to your file and starts noting what can he do to do better. It’s not proper for a leader to know this little about their subordinate. It’s not proper for the leader of the pack not to welcome you like he should’ve.

Price who starts taking fruits during breakfast just to pawn them off to you a minute later, rumbling that he forgot he can’t eat this much.

(The man does it every bloody morning, does he think he’s actually sneaky with that?)

But no one says anything and he hums in satisfaction when you gobble down an orange or an apple he gives to you. Lizard part of his brain pleased to see you fed and happy with his offering.

Lizard part of his brain has already switched to proper courting without him catching up on it up until he finds himself massaging the nape of your neck.

Fingers digging into tense muscle, fingers sliding lower to the base of your wings, to the additional back muscles only you and Kyle have. He knows these are the places you can hardly reach yourself.

He knows that it’s usually reserved for pack to touch there — too vulnerable of a place, too easy for someone of his size to tear out the tender thin wing off your back.

But you don’t move away, deliberately not looking at him. Like if you pretend he’s not there you won’t need to explain why you are letting him this close.

Price hums massaging your back, warm palms sending shivers all over your body, your ears burning when he leans forward, beard tickling your neck.

He’s close enough to bite down. Close enough to close his jaws around inviting slope of your neck, to force you down.

But he doesn’t. There is no need for this.

You are not growling Simon, you are not cheeky stubborn Soap, you aren’t even Kyle with his habit to test waters until John pulls him under it.

You are you.

John presses small, soft kiss behind your ear, fingers tracing the skin of your wings, fingers melting you into nothing.

“Tha’ okay, love?”, he murmurs, pressing his cheek to your neck, his smile wide wicked thing full of teeth when you give him a shaky nod.

“Can’t hear you, sweetheart”, John is not used to this but he finds he rather likes to have a pretty bat like you being this good for him. Such a sweet little soldier, making his mind hazy with want to lick all over you.

Leaving saliva and his scent, marking you proper. Not right that you don’t smell like them yet.

John pulls you in, cradling in his hands, eyes warm and heavy. Komodo dragons fight to prove they are worthy of being at the top. Komodo dragons need to know that they deserve what they have.

John knows that for now he didn’t prove that he deserves you, your trust, your bond.

That’s alright. Just means he will need to put in some much needed hard work.

John presses his face to your neck and breathes in, smiling when your wings give him a small flutter. Sensitive little thing.

“Come on, love. Think I saw some mangoes dropped in with re-supply . Gonna have a feast today”, he grumbles, eyes crinkling with pleasure when your eyes light up.

Yeah, both of you will feast alright.

[zepskies]

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: My day tomorrow is going to be a bit packed, so I decided to release this a bit early for you guys! So here we go! The first chapter of yet another new series, my first ever 1940s AU. 🥰 I hope you have fun on this one, because I sure did. Again, very much inspired by The Clock (1945), starring Judy Garland and Robert Walker. 💜

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: For this chapter it’s “Cry Me a River” by Ella Fitzgerald

Word Count: 3.9K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, PTSD, historical tidbits

✨ Series Masterlist

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Legal Grounds

November 2, 1945

Dean idly read the pamphlet stacked with others on his brother’s desk, which advertised his new and successful enterprise.

Law Offices of Winchester, Bialystock & Bloom

What do you know? His brother had his own office, his own business, and his name on a pamphlet.

Dean couldn’t help but curl a finger around a steel ball on the abacus sitting at the head of the mahogany desk, right next to Sam’s nameplate.

He let it fly. The abacus began to clack as one ball hit the other.

Sam looked up from the deposition he was writing to give his brother a wry brow raise.

“So this is what you do, huh?” Dean remarked, crossing his arms.

Without his jacket, his suspenders were on display over his shoulders. His red pinstripe tie was still in place, but his white dress shirt was rolled up to the elbows. Meanwhile, his brother preferred to keep himself more presentable with his sleeves down to his wrists. Jacket on.    

Dean glanced around the office, nodding at the line of bookshelves behind Sam, framing him as the bookish academic he’d always been. There was limited seating in here though, just a spare chair in front of the desk, and another to the right of it. Dean stood on the opposite side.

“If you’re bored, all you have to do is say so,” Sam said. “Which is strange, considering we’re smack dab in the middle of a city that never sleeps.”

He was right, Dean could concede. His little brother had given him a veritable list of things to do in New York City: visit the park, go to the zoo, see a picture show, visit a nightclub, or sample a host of restaurants that Sam knew Dean would probably enjoy.

He’d seen a lot of this place in the week that he’d been here visiting Sam, but a good deal of it he’d either spent alone, or with any willing young lady Dean came across, thanks to the demands of this office. If he was honest, entertaining young ladies was eating into the wallet in his trouser pocket, and the hustle and bustle was starting to be a little much for him.

“You don’t get tired of it?” Dean asked, gesturing to the out there beyond them. “The, uh…the lights, the noise, all the people?”

Sam picked his head up from his paperwork to consider the question. “No, I like it. Keeps my mind busy, and…I guess it makes me feel alive, you know?”

Dean supposed he could understand that, so he nodded.

Sam wasn’t fooled though. He thought he could tell what was running through his brother’s head, watching him fidget, and turn his head a bit sharply when a bus honked loudly outside the office’s glass doors as it thundered past.

It had only been two months since the end of the war. Two months since he and Dean met back in their family home in Lawrence, Kansas after three years fighting on two different fronts, in two different countries.

Both of them had enlisted, but Sam had spent most of his time in London while he was deployed, helping British Intelligence. Dean had clawed his way out of Normandy, and later, out of the Ardennes—the last offensive before the end.

Their experiences might as well have been worlds apart, but one thing remained the same: it had been three years in which neither brother knew if they’d see each other again.

Now, Sam saw the signs. Dean seemed a bit jumpy, overstimulated, but willing to be here to spend a little more time with Sam before he went back home. Guilt prickled in Sam’s gut. 

“I’ve got some work here to finish up, but afterwards let’s go to dinner,” he suggested. “Maybe see a show?”

Dean’s lips flickered at a smile. “You’re burning both ends of the candle. You know that, right?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, when there was a knock on one of the glass doors—at the entrance to the small building. Their heads turned, and through the open door of his office, they spotted you standing there in the evening light. You wore a wide-brimmed hat on your head and a scarf underneath, wrapped over your hair and under your chin to shield your face. You knocked again with a hand covered by a leather glove, more persistently.

Cocking his head in confusion, Sam stood from his desk and left the room to let you in. Dean hung back and sat on the corner of the desk to wait. He withdrew a cigarette from the pack and a lighter from his pocket as he did so, but he heard you talking with his brother by the door.

“I’m sorry. We’re closed, miss,” Sam informed you.

“It’s still two minutes until closing. At least, according to my watch.”

“…Well, I suppose you’ve got me there.”

“So can I come in? I need to speak to a lawyer.”

“You sure it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid it can’t, sir.” Your tone was firm, and it more than implied that you wouldn’t be moved. Sam paused then, perhaps to take a steeling breath.

“All right. Come with me, please.”

You later followed behind him through the hallway and into the office. With a lit cigarette between his fingers, his arms crossed, Dean took note of you. He subtly glanced down at your crème-colored blouse, neatly tucked into the long, burgundy skirt (with lipstick to match), your modest, classy heels, and the way you wore your hair. His brows subtly raised. He’d met quite a few girls this week, but he hadn’t seen a lady like you in quite some time.

Should’ve shaved this morning. The thought was accompanied by the way he swiped a subtle hand over his prickly chin.

You gave him a cursory glance in turn, and offered a polite, “Hello.”

He stood from the desk and switched his cigarette to his other hand, so he could shake yours.

“Hey there. Dean Winchester,” he said. He offered a smile with no small amount of charm. “Pleased to meet you…”

You dutifully gave him your first name only. He found that a little strange, but you soon slipped your hand out of his and focused on the nameplate on the desk, followed by Sam himself.

“So you’re brothers,” you realized. “Do you work together?”

Dean scoffed. “Nope, I’m just here to distract him.”

Sam tossed him a sidelong glance. There was a subtle edge of bitter truth in there somewhere, and you didn’t seem to miss it. You looked between the two men, a hint wary.

“Well, as I said, I’m here to speak to the solicitor,” you said. 

“That would be me,” Sam nodded. He went to his desk and sat down behind it, gesturing for you to do the same in front of him. You obliged him, smoothing your hands down your skirt once you were seated. “How can I help you?”

You met his eyes with a directness that surprised him a little.

“I want to divorce my husband,” you said.

To say it shocked the room would be an understatement. Behind you, Dean gave his brother a pair of raised brows. Sam didn’t allow himself to react too much in order to remain professional, but he still tilted his head, blinking, before he focused on you again.

“What’s your husband’s name?” he asked.

“Michael. Michael Milligan.”

“Why do you want a divorce, Mrs. Milligan?” 

Here, your gaze fell to the folded hands in your lap. 

“I have reason to believe he’s been unfaithful,” you quietly replied.

Once again, there was a pregnant pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sam said. His sympathy was genuine, because he could see the way you’d hesitated to say the words, like they embarrassed you, shamed you, and saddened you all at once. 

“But I have to ask,” he added, “do you have proof?”

Dean glanced his way, his brow raising once again. Sam knew what he was thinking, just as he saw how you frowned as well. But there was a reason why he asked, and it wasn’t to be unkind.

You sighed. “What kind of proof?” 

“Pictures. Letters. A witness. Something of legal standing that we can use as leverage and as grounds to grant you a divorce, whether he wants it or not,” Sam said. 

You let out another heavy breath through your nose. “No, I don’t have anything like that.”

“Then what makes you so sure he’s steppin’ out?” Dean chimed in. By now he was leaning against the wall, off to the side where he could smoke with the window cracked open. It let in the sounds of cars and distant honking, people traversing the sidewalks. 

You turned in your seat to give him a tight look. “If you must know, there’ve been…signs. I won’t trouble you with the details, but I’m sure.”

You met Dean’s gaze, and then Sam’s firmly. 

“So will you help me?” you asked him. Sam nodded.

“Yes, I’ll look into your husband and try to find some evidence of his…extracurricular affairs.”

Your lips pursed. “And how long will it take?”

Since you were being so direct, Sam levelled you with honesty.

“It may take time,” he said. “Realistically, we’re looking at months, even after I find what we need… It would be easier to legally separate.”

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

“Mr. Winchester,” you began. “I don’t want to just be separated. I don’t want to live in our apartment, let alone share his bed or wear his last name.”

Despite your best efforts, your voice began to shake. Tears welled up and stung in your eyes.

“I don’t want anything from him, other than his signature on the damn papers,” you said. “The case is that I can no longer tolerate that man in my sight, much less in my life. Will you help me? Or should I look for another lawyer who will actually do his job.”

Sam and Dean shared a glance. For his part, Dean couldn’t remember the last time he heard a woman curse. Despite your outburst, the tears clinging to your lashes stirred both men.

“I understand, Mrs. Milligan,” Sam said. “I’ll help you. Don’t worry.”

He began to look for his handkerchief, but you retrieved one of your own from your purse and quickly dabbed at your eyes, sniffling. You were embarrassed.

“What about your fee?” you said, withdrawing your checkbook. “I, um…I have a little money stashed away. I’ve always worked, you see.”

Sam nodded and went over what his rate would be going forward. Once the two of you came to an agreement, you signed the first check right then and there, even though he felt bad for even taking it from you.

You were still sniffling, and twice you dabbed under your eyes to make sure your face was dry. When you handed over the check, your hands shook, just a little. Sam wouldn’t tell you that he discounted his usual rate.  

Again, he mentioned that he would need some time first to investigate your husband and begin collecting evidence for your case. He asked you for any documents you could safely bring him of your finances, for example. You agreed to do an investigation of your own.

“Just be careful,” Dean cautioned. He was getting an idea of what kind of man your husband was, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of what the man was capable of. He’d hate to hear of a girl like you getting hurt over a few papers.

Dean put out the bud of his cigarette on the ashtray lying on the windowsill. He pushed off the wall to approach where you and Sam were getting to your feet. You gave Dean a nod of acknowledgement.

“I will,” you agreed. “Thank you both. I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time, but I’ll be heading home now.”

“Did you take a bus or a taxi?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I walked,” you replied, and you checked your watch as you gathered up your purse. You headed for the coatrack, but Dean got there first, helping you into your beige wool coat. It went nicely with the burgundy you had on, namely on your painted lips.

“Thank you,” you said to him, but you still didn’t smile. You were a hint demurer now. It seemed with Sam’s promised help, the fire had dimmed behind your eyes and your tongue.

“How about I give you an escort, make sure you get home okay?” Dean found himself offering. “It’s getting pretty late on a Friday.”

Sam shot him a knowing look, but Dean ignored him, instead focusing on your face.

You hesitated. “It’s a bit far though. Out of your way, I’m sure.”

“All the more reason that you shouldn’t go it alone at this time of night,” he argued.

You considered his offer, and him, with a quick perusal. You seemed to be judging for yourself if he was trustworthy. Dean kept his posture straight, yet relaxed. Maybe he’d liked what he saw the moment he took you in, but after hearing your situation, he felt for you. It really was just an honest offer to walk you home.

“Where did you serve?” you asked. “The Army, the Navy, or the Air Forces?”

The question took him off guard for a beat, but he answered you.

“The Army,” he replied.

“Your rank?”

“I was a sergeant, ma’am.”

You looked at him a little more shrewdly, then you relaxed.

“I might’ve guessed,” you said. “All right, Sergeant. Let’s go then.”

You buttoned up your coat and turned to leave the office. Dean shot his little brother a raise of his brows and a what do ya know? kind of smile. He grabbed his dark brown jacket and hat and followed you out.

Sam’s smile was more reserved, with a shake of his head. He closed the door behind you and Dean and locked it. He still had some work he wanted to finish before tomorrow, and Dean’s little show of chivalry would give him time to do it.

Dean had his hands in his coat pockets as he walked with you down the long city sidewalk. Night had drawn into the November sky, but with all these lights, he couldn’t see many stars. It was also cold as all hell. The frigid wind slapped at him every time they turned the corner of a building, snapping right into his bones.

Still, he supposed there was a kind of attractiveness to the city at night. The stores and their signs were all lit up gold and other neon colors. Couples and families walked together, all done up nice for wherever dinner reservation or movie they were trying to get to. It begged the question of what your husband was doing right now if he didn’t notice his wife out at this time of night.

“Where’s your husband tonight, if I might ask?” said Dean.

You shot him a look, reading between his lines.

“He claims to be working late virtually every night of the weekdays,” you said, “but he usually comes home stinking of alcohol.” Your eyes dimmed, even with the pretty lights shining in them. “He was in the Army as well. A corporal. He’s had a hard time adjusting to being back home, and I know that… He doesn’t sleep very well. And do you know, he had a hard time finding work for a while too. Luckily, he has his father’s business to fall back on.”

Dean tried not to show how much your words resonated with him. He didn’t think it a good thing to have common ground with your husband, if he was the kind of man you said he was.

“Yeah? What’s his business?” he asked.

“He manages a meat production plant, of all things,” you said.

“Ah, located in the Meat Packing District, I presume?”

“You’d presume right.”

Dean nodded. “I get it. I inherited the family home back in Lawrence. I just need to figure out what’s next.”

“Lawrence?”

“Kansas.”

“Oh, the Midwest,” you inclined your head. “What’s it like there?”

Dean scoffed. “Dusty.”

You almost laughed at that. At least it earned him your first smile of the night.

“Do you have an idea of what you’ll do for work?” you asked.

Dean chuckled. “Not just yet. Didn’t plan that far, you know?”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Hmm. Guess I didn’t see the point,” he replied with a mild shrug. It hid a deeper, darker well inside him. The part of him that hadn’t thought he’d make it back home after the war.  

You turned to him then, and you saw it behind his eyes. The two of you walked in silence for a little while as the neighborhood blocks began to shift and change, becoming somewhat quieter, more residential. Dean put himself between you and the sidewalk when a taxi zoomed by too close to the curb, resting a hand on the small of your back for protection.

Part of you trilled inside at the small touch, but you immediately beat that reaction down. Dean Winchester was an attractive man, to be sure. His hair was a lighter brown than his brother’s, and shorter too. He had an air of roguishness about him, even though he’d been perfectly pleasant so far.

But by the way he eyed you when you came into the law office, you had a strong feeling he was a flirt. You had no room for that in your life, and not only because you were still a married woman.

Yet, there was something about him that…well, made you curious.

“I was a nurse,” you said eventually, earning his attention. “I was there when they liberated Paris.”

Dean turned to you with newfound interest lighting his green eyes. “You were at Normandy.”

You nodded. “For a while. Almost a year before D-Day.”

Dean let out a short, if humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, that’s where I was. At that time, at least,” he said. You gave him a similar look; respect, and perhaps finding a kindred spirit.

“I did what I could do before, during, and afterwards,” you said. “I think that’s all we can do now, Mr. Winchester.”

“Call me Dean,” he said. “If you like.”

A second smile almost tugged at your lips. You nodded in agreement.

“Dean,” you said.

In another ten minutes, he was walking you up to your porch at your apartment building. You travelled up the four small steps, while Dean stopped at the second one. For the first time, you had the vantage point above him as you turned on your heel to face him. You were about to thank him when he shook his head, scoffing.

“This guy must be dumb, deaf, and blind, sweetheart,” he said.

Your face warmed in a blush, and you gave a rueful smile when you realized what he meant. He was looking up at you like someone who couldn’t understand your plight. You knew the feeling.

“That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to do that,” you said.  

His brows furrowed. “Do what?” 

“Try to make me feel better,” you said, scuffing the toe of your sensible heels against the brick platform. Dean crossed his arms. 

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because the fact of the matter is, Sergeant, words don’t move me anymore.” You picked up your gaze from the ground, and you met his. “Flattery is just a pretty way of lying, and I’ve grown to really, truly hate lying.” 

It took him a moment, but Dean nodded.

“I guess that’s fair,” he said. He had to stop himself before he proved your point with a smart word on your pretty smile. Although, it wouldn’t have been a lie. He tipped his hat up. “Goodnight then, Mrs. Milligan.” 

You stopped him from leaving with just your voice. 

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

He gave you a charming grin and a more casual soldier’s salute. Then he stuck his hands back in his pockets, turned on his heel, and began to walk back the way he came. You couldn’t help but watch him go for a second or two. His legs were slightly bowed under his slacks, you noticed.

With a blush, you shook your head to rid yourself of those silly thoughts. You closed the door.

That night, Michael came home late, as usual—this time at two in the morning. He reeked of alcohol, also per usual, but this time when he rolled over towards you in bed to say goodnight, you stiffened. He also smelled like a woman’s perfume. Expensive stuff. 

This was one of those signs you hadn’t wanted to tell Sam Winchester. Frankly, it was crude and embarrassing.

“Sorry it’s so late, darling. Got held up,” he said, kissing your shoulder through your nightgown. His fingers played with the ends of your hair while you laid facing away from him.

You squeezed your eyes shut. You were fighting every instinct you had inside you that wanted to recoil from his touch and bolt out of the bed. When just a few months ago, his touch was all you craved, almost desperately so. 

“Where were you?” you asked. Somehow, you kept your voice steady and calm. “You weren’t at the office all this time.”

“Had a couple of drinks with the guys after,” he said with a shrug. “Sorry. The night got away from us, but, uh…I’ll be home on time for dinner tomorrow.”

With your back turned to him, you were able to roll your eyes.

“What’d you make tonight, outta curiosity?” he asked.

“Egg salad sandwiches,” you replied flatly. 

“Hmm. No real loss there then.” 

Your teeth clenched. “If I thought you were actually going to be home when you said you would, maybe I would make a rump roast with all the fixings.” 

Michael paused, but then, he grasped your shoulder, slowly turned you around in the bed until you were facing him. His face was sterner. 

“Excuse me?” 

You remained quiet. Your gaze travelled downwards, avoiding his.

Michael huffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes you got a real mouth on you. One of these days, you just might regret it.” 

He turned his back on you, laying on his side. You did the same while trying to stem your tears.

When did this become your life?

AN: Oof, sorry for all that angst at the end there, but I hope you liked the first chapter! Did you enjoy soldier!Dean and soldier/lawyer!Sam? Do you want to find a dark alley for Michael yet? 😅

And are you ready for what's coming up next? 😘

Next Time:

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

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[scarletwinterxx]

maybe maybe - jeon wonwoo imagine

hellooooo ~ i need to give myself a pat in the back for this bcs OH MY GOSH EVEN I WAS GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET WHILE WRITING THIS. the slooooow burn on this🫠 we love a nonchalant and oa combo (if u know u know)

also i was listening to maybe maybe by lola amour while writing this. give it a listen to get the maximum feels😅

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve liked Jeon Wonwoo for as long as you can remember. It’s not a fleeting crush or some shallow infatuation—it’s the kind of feeling that lingers, like a persistent shadow. He knows it; everyone does. But as much as your friends tease you about your obvious affection for him, Wonwoo has never acknowledged it.

Not once.

Wonwoo is the epitome of calm indifference. He’s polite, sure, but he never goes out of his way to engage with anyone outside of his tight-knit circle of friends, Vernon and Minghao. They’re always together, laughing at inside jokes and radiating an air of effortless cool that only makes him seem more unreachable.

And yet, you can’t help yourself. You’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even though he treats you no differently than anyone else.

Sometimes you wonder if he even notices the little things you do for him—the way you save him a seat in class when he’s running late, or how you always bring an extra drink to study group just in case he wants one. You tell yourself you’re just being nice, but Mimi, your best friend, sees right through you.

“This is ridiculous,” she tells you one afternoon, leaning back in her chair with an exasperated sigh.

The two of you are sitting outside on the campus lawn, the warm sunlight doing little to ease the frustration in her voice. “You’re bending over backward for a guy who can’t even spare you a second glance.”

“He’s not that bad,” you argue weakly, though even you know it’s a poor defense. Mimi raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Not that bad? Y/N, he’s like a brick wall with glasses. Sure, he’s good-looking, but you can’t build a relationship on eye contact alone.”

“I’m not trying to build a relationship!” you protest, though your cheeks heat at the lie. “I just… I like being around him, that’s all.”

Mimi rolls her eyes. “You like torturing yourself, is what you mean. Honestly, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you enjoy the challenge.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s a part of you that holds onto this unrequited crush because it’s safer than the alternative. If you never confess, you can never be rejected. And as much as Wonwoo’s aloofness stings, it’s still better than the thought of him outright telling you he doesn’t feel the same.

But then there are moments—rare, fleeting moments—when you catch a glimpse of something softer beneath his exterior. Like the time you lent him your notes for a class he missed, and he returned them with a quiet “Thanks” and a small, almost imperceptible smile. Or the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than usual when you bumped into him at the library last week.

It’s those moments that keep you hanging on, no matter how much Mimi scolds you for it.

“You’re hopeless,” she says with a shake of her head. But there’s no real malice in her words, just the weary affection of someone who’s watched you pine for too long. “I swear, one day you’re going to look back on this and laugh.”

You doubt it, but you don’t say that out loud. Instead, you change the subject, steering the conversation toward something less painful.

Later that day, you find yourself crossing paths with Wonwoo outside the campus café. He’s with Vernon and Minghao, as usual, but when he sees you, he slows his pace, letting his friends walk ahead without him.

“Hey,” he says, his voice as steady and unreadable as ever.

“Hi,” you manage, your heart doing its usual somersault at the sight of him.

For a moment, you stand there, unsure of what to say. But before the silence can stretch too long, Wonwoo speaks again.

“Thanks for the notes,” he says simply.

It’s not much, just two words, but the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard. For once, it feels like he’s really looking at you, not just through you. And in that moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, there’s hope after all.

It’s a small step, but it’s enough to keep you going.

Mimi is relentless, as she always is when it comes to your love life—or lack thereof. She’s leaning against your desk chair in your dorm room, scrolling through her phone with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, this guy is perfect for you. He’s into photography, loves indie films, and he’s even in your lit class. Plus, he doesn’t act like he’s living in a perpetual state of indifference.” She shoves her phone in your face, showing you a photo of a guy you vaguely recognize from class. He’s cute, objectively speaking, with a kind smile and a soft, approachable vibe.

But you shake your head before Mimi can even finish her pitch. “I’m not interested.”

Mimi groans, tossing her phone onto your bed. “Why do you do this to yourself? It’s not like you’re dating Wonwoo, or that he’s even trying to date you. You’re wasting your time on a guy who can’t even bother to hold a real conversation with you.”

Her words hit harder than she probably intended, and for a moment, you feel the weight of the truth behind them. She’s right—nothing about your feelings for Wonwoo makes sense. You know it’s a losing game, but every time you even consider the idea of moving on, it feels wrong. Like you’d be betraying something you’ve held onto for so long.

“It’s not that simple,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended.

Mimi softens at your tone, sinking onto the edge of your bed. “Then make it simple, Y/N. I get it—you like him. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You deserve someone who actually sees you.”

“I don’t know if I want someone else to see me,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

It’s frustrating—you’re frustrated with yourself.

Every time you see Wonwoo, it’s like all the logic and advice you’ve been given evaporates into thin air. All you see is him: the way his glasses slide down his nose when he’s reading, or the rare laugh that lights up his face when Vernon says something ridiculous. It’s like he’s carved a permanent space in your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make him leave.

Mimi looks at you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re not even ready to like someone else, are you?”

You shake your head, a small, self-deprecating smile playing on your lips. “I don’t think so. It’s stupid, right? Holding onto feelings for someone who probably doesn’t even think about me.”

“It’s not stupid,” she says, surprising you. “It’s just… hard to watch. You’re one of the best people I know, Y/N, and it sucks to see you stuck on someone who doesn’t appreciate that.”

You’re about to respond when your phone buzzes on the desk. It’s a notification from the group chat for your literature project, and your heart skips a beat when you see Wonwoo’s name among the participants.

“Speak of the devil,” Mimi mutters when she notices your expression. She doesn’t need to ask who the message is from.

You open the chat to find a simple message from Wonwoo: I have some extra notes from class if anyone needs them. Just let me know.

It’s not directed at you specifically, but your heart still flutters at the thought of him offering to help. Mimi catches the way your lips twitch into a faint smile and groans dramatically, flopping back onto your bed.

“You’re hopeless,” she declares, though her tone is more resigned than annoyed.

You don’t argue with her this time. Maybe you are hopeless, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. Because even though it doesn’t make sense, even though it’s frustrating and irrational and probably a little pathetic, a part of you still believes there’s something worth holding onto.

The next day, you’re determined to take a small step forward.

Wonwoo’s message about the notes keeps replaying in your mind, like a sign you can’t ignore. It’s a flimsy excuse to talk to him, sure, but it’s enough to make you gather your courage and head toward the study hall where you know he likes to hang out.

You spot him right away, sitting at his usual corner table. His laptop is open, and a notebook lies beside it, his familiar neat handwriting filling the pages. But before you can take another step, you see her.

She’s sitting across from him, her dark hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. She’s gorgeous in a natural, effortless way that makes you want to disappear on the spot. And the way Wonwoo looks at her—it’s like someone punched you in the stomach. His smile is soft, easy, like he’s known her forever. He’s speaking to her with a comfort and warmth that he’s never shown you.

You freeze in place, your confidence evaporating in an instant. All the what-ifs and maybes that have kept you going suddenly feel childish and naive. You turn on your heel and leave before either of them can notice you.

The rest of the week feels like a blur. You don’t have the energy to pretend everything is fine, and Mimi is quick to notice.

“What’s wrong with you lately?” she asks on Thursday, her eyes narrowing in concern as she sits across from you in the campus café. “You’ve been moping around like someone stole your dog.”

You shrug, poking at your untouched sandwich. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar,” she says immediately. “Come on, spill.”

When you hesitate, she leans in closer, her voice softening. “Is it Wonwoo?”

The look on your face is answer enough.

Mimi lets out a groan, rubbing her temples. “Y/N, you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. If he’s making you feel like this—”

“It’s not his fault,” you cut in quickly. “He doesn’t even know how I feel.”

“Exactly,” she says, exasperated. “You’re tearing yourself apart over a guy who doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you.”

You don’t respond, and Mimi sighs. After a moment of silence, she leans forward with a determined look in her eyes.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m not letting you mope around all weekend. There’s a party on Saturday, and you’re coming with me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop you.

“No excuses. You need a distraction, and I’m going to make sure you have fun whether you like it or not.”

True to her word, Saturday evening finds you standing in front of the mirror, dressed in an outfit Mimi picked out for you. It’s a little more daring than your usual style—an off-the-shoulder black dress that hugs your figure in all the right places—but Mimi insists it’s perfect.

“You look hot,” she declares, grinning as she adjusts the necklace around your neck. “Wonwoo who?”

You laugh despite yourself, though the sound feels hollow. Mimi doesn’t miss the way your smile falters, and she grabs your hands, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“Listen, Y/N. Tonight is about you. Forget about Wonwoo, forget about everything else, and just have fun. You deserve to feel good about yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur, even though you’re not sure you believe it.

But as Mimi drags you out the door and toward the party, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’s right. Maybe it’s time to let go, even if just for one night.

The bass from the speakers reverberates through your chest the moment you step inside the party venue. It’s dimly lit, with neon lights flashing and a sea of people crowded around the dance floor and bar.

You feel out of place immediately, but Mimi, ever the extrovert, is in her element. She practically radiates confidence as she scans the room, her hand firmly gripping your wrist.

“This is going to be fun,” she says with a grin, already pulling you toward the bar.

“Mimi, wait—” you start to protest, but she’s not listening. Within moments, she’s ordering shots, her energy infectiously bold.

“Two tequila shots, please!” she calls out over the noise, turning to you with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Come on, Y/N. You said you’d let loose tonight!”

“I didn’t say I’d drink,” you mumble, eyeing the small glasses as they’re placed in front of you.

Mimi rolls her eyes. “One shot won’t kill you. It’s called liquid courage. You’ll thank me later.”

Before you can object again, she’s shoving one of the glasses into your hand. Everything feels like it’s happening too fast—the music, the lights, the crowd, and now this. You glance down at the clear liquid and then at Mimi, who’s already downed hers like a pro.

“Cheers to forgetting about all your worries!” she declares, clinking her empty glass against yours.

You sigh, realizing you have no way out, and tip the shot back. The alcohol burns as it goes down, and you cough slightly, grimacing at the taste. Mimi laughs and pats your back.

“There you go! See? That wasn’t so bad,” she says, already signaling for another round.

As Mimi orders more drinks, you glance around the room, trying to get your bearings.

You don’t notice the way heads turn in your direction, but Wonwoo does.

From his spot in the corner of the room, he’s watching you.

He’d seen you the moment you walked in, though he wasn’t the only one. It’s hard not to notice you tonight. You look stunning, completely different from your usual casual, understated style. The black dress you’re wearing accentuates your figure, and there’s a confidence in the way you carry yourself—even if you don’t feel it.

Vernon nudges him lightly, leaning in to murmur, “Isn’t that Y/N?”

Wonwoo doesn’t reply, his gaze fixed on you as you stand at the bar with Mimi. He’s used to seeing you in hoodies and jeans, always looking comfortable and approachable. But tonight, you’re turning heads left and right, and it’s clear you’re out of your element.

“She cleans up well,” Minghao comments casually, sipping his drink.

Wonwoo doesn’t respond, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly. He watches as Mimi drags you further into the chaos of the party, her energy pulling you along like a whirlwind. You seem hesitant, your eyes wide as you take in the unfamiliar environment, but there’s something endearing about it.

For a moment, Wonwoo feels a strange pang in his chest, though he can’t quite place it. Maybe it’s because he’s not used to seeing you like this, so far removed from the quiet kindness you usually exude. Or maybe it’s the way other people are looking at you—the guys whose eyes linger a little too long, the girls whispering behind their hands.

“Dude,” Vernon says, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You good?”

Wonwoo blinks, finally tearing his gaze away. “Yeah,” he mutters, though his voice lacks conviction.

But even as his friends return to their conversation, Wonwoo can’t help but glance back at you. There’s something about tonight that feels different, and for the first time in a long time, he wonders if he’s the one being left behind.

The alcohol was starting to buzz in your veins, making the room feel warmer and the noise more distant. Mimi was in her element, laughing and chatting with a group of students you vaguely recognized from campus. Somehow, you’d gotten swept up in their drinking games, and before you knew it, one shot had turned into two, then three.

Now, you were standing in a loose circle, your nerves on edge as you watched the current game unfold. Someone had explained it a moment ago: take the shot, then grab the lemon wedge held between another person’s lips. It was bold, far outside your comfort zone, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out.

“Your turn, Y/N!” someone called, handing you a small shot glass filled with tequila.

Your hands felt clammy as you accepted it, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t even look at the person who was supposed to hold the lemon for you—your nerves wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was how awkward this was going to be, and how much you wished you could disappear into the floor.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes briefly as you downed the shot in one go.

The burn of the alcohol hit first, followed by a rush of heat in your chest. When you opened your eyes and turned your head to face whoever had volunteered to hold the lemon, you froze.

Wonwoo didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but there you were, standing at the bar with a shot in hand, the challenge in your eyes as you glanced at the person next to you holding a lemon.

And then—before he even realized what he was doing—he found himself walking over.

You blinked, wondering if the tequila was playing tricks on you. But no—he was standing right in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The room seemed to fall away, the noise and chaos fading into the background.

The lemon wedge was between his lips, his sharp gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest as he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. His touch was warm, steady, grounding you even as your mind spiraled.

Every nerve in your body was on high alert, the proximity making your head spin even more than the alcohol.

The way you looked at him when you saw him standing there, so close, made something stir in his chest. He was used to seeing you in passing, in casual greetings, but never like this.

Never with this... spark in your eyes, the nervous energy swirling between you two as if the whole room had faded into the background.

His hand found its way to your face without him thinking about it. It was like instinct, like he was meant to touch you, to make the moment real, to ground you in the present. He could feel your breath against his lips as he held the lemon between his teeth, his own heartbeat quickening as he leaned in. The closeness was intoxicating, and even though everything around you was chaotic, there was a stillness between you two—something unspoken that hummed in the air.

His lips brushed against yours, and for a split second, the world stopped moving. The taste of tequila, the sharpness of the lemon, it all blurred together, leaving just the feeling of your presence, warm and electric. It was over in an instant, but the memory lingered like an echo in his mind.

When he pulled away, he noticed the slight tremble in your breath, the flush creeping up your cheeks. His fingers lingered on your skin, just for a moment, before he let go and took a step back. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or something else that made him act on impulse, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

“Careful with those shots,” he said, his voice steady as he turned to leave, wanting to disappear into the crowd before he did something even more foolish.

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd.

You stood there, your heart racing and your mind spinning, wondering if what had just happened was real—or if it was just another tequila-induced dream.

The morning light is harsh, seeping through the blinds and hitting you like a freight train.

Your head pounds, your mouth is dry, and you feel like your body is made of lead. Every movement feels like a chore, and the only thing you want is to pull the covers over your head and pretend like the world doesn't exist.

But then you remember last night. Bits and pieces of the party flash through your foggy mind—Mimi dragging you into the chaos, the shots, the people... and then, the moment with Wonwoo.

You sit up, your stomach flipping at the thought of it.

What had happened? Was it real? Or just a tequila-fueled dream? Your heart sinks into your stomach as the hangover makes itself known in full force. You groan, leaning back against your pillow.

Mimi, ever the morning person, bursts into your room without knocking, as if she doesn’t notice the state you’re in.

“Morning!” she says brightly, a little too brightly, given your current condition. She’s holding a water bottle and some aspirin in her hand. “Here, drink this. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, taking the bottle gratefully, but your eyes are still squinting against the harsh light. “Mimi... what happened last night? What... what did I do?”

Mimi plops down on the edge of your bed, clearly already recovered from whatever wildness the night had thrown her way. She grins, almost too smugly for your current state.

“Let me think,” she says, tapping her chin like she’s in deep contemplation. “Well, first you got a little tipsy, then you got a lot tipsy... You were a little shy at first, but after a few shots, you really started to loosen up!”

You wince, already imagining how embarrassing you must have been. “And…?”

“Then,” she continues, barely able to contain her laughter, “you and Wonwoo had a moment.”

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. “Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimi says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You two were definitely the talk of the night. You guys played that game, and then...” She pauses for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying every second of your discomfort. “...Well, let’s just say the lemon wedge wasn’t the only thing shared.”

Your brain stumbles over the words as the memory floods back. You and Wonwoo, so close, his hands on your face, the taste of tequila and lemon... And then the kiss, the soft brush of his lips against yours, lingering for just a heartbeat.

You feel your cheeks heat up, even as you cringe internally. “That wasn’t a kiss, was it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, it definitely was,” Mimi says with a teasing grin, clearly delighted by the reaction she’s getting from you. “A very brief one, but yeah. It happened.”

You bury your face in your hands, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m going to die.”

“No, no, no.” Mimi leans in, trying to comfort you—though her laughter is a little too apparent. “It wasn’t a big deal! You didn’t embarrass yourself too badly. Besides, from what I saw, he didn’t look like he minded.”

You look up at her, eyes wide. “What do you mean? Did he say anything?”

Mimi shrugs, her grin turning a little more thoughtful. “He didn’t say much”

Your heart skips a beat. You hadn’t even considered that. Did he... stay because he was just being polite? Or was there something else there?

"Did anything else happen after that?" you ask cautiously.

Mimi shakes her head. "No, you two went your separate ways pretty quickly after that. I mean, you were a little tipsy, so I didn't want to push you too much. But trust me, you're not imagining it. Something happened, even if you're too hungover to remember all the details.”

You lean back against the pillows, the weight of her words settling in your chest. Wonwoo. That moment. Had he really felt something too? Or was it just the alcohol making you think there was more to it than there actually was?

"Mimi..." you trail off, unsure how to even phrase your next question. "What do I do now?"

Mimi's expression softens slightly, though she still has that mischievous glint in her eye. "You let it play out. Don't overthink it. If something’s meant to happen, it will. If not, then at least you got a pretty wild story to tell."

You nod slowly, still unsure about everything. The hangover isn’t making things any easier, and your head feels like it’s full of unanswered questions.

But as you drink the water and swallow the aspirin she handed you, you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the beginning of something you’ve been waiting for. Even if you don’t have all the answers yet.

The next few days felt like an emotional rollercoaster, and you were stuck somewhere near the top, trying to keep your balance.

After last night’s chaos, you couldn’t bring yourself to face Wonwoo. You avoided him like the plague, keeping your distance whenever you saw him around campus. It wasn’t because you regretted what happened, but because... well, it felt like you were the only one who cared about it, and that made everything awkward.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge you or the kiss. He acted like it was nothing, like it was just some silly game, just like the other shots and the other people. But the longer you avoided him, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was aware of it—aware of you. And that only made it worse.

His friends had caught on, too. Vernon had laughed it off, saying it was cute how you were avoiding Wonwoo. Minghao seemed amused. They didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t ignore the tension that built up every time you crossed paths with them.

But it wasn’t just them noticing. Wonwoo was noticing too. You could feel his eyes on you whenever you went to class or sat in the library. His usual nonchalant demeanor didn’t give anything away, but there was something in the way he lingered a little longer, just enough to make you feel seen, even when you wanted to disappear.

Then, one afternoon, when you thought you were finally in the clear, it happened.

You were walking home, head down, lost in your thoughts as the weight of the last few days pressed heavily on your shoulders. You should’ve stayed in and avoided the outside world. But, no, you were out here, walking alone, hoping the fresh air would clear your head.

And then, you heard the familiar sound of an engine approaching. You looked up just in time to see Wonwoo’s car slowing beside you. Your heart skipped, and for a moment, everything inside you screamed to turn around and run. You were already panicking, your steps quickening, but before you could escape, the car came to a stop beside you.

Wonwoo rolled down the window, his expression as unreadable as ever, but his voice—his voice was what made you freeze.

“Y/N,” he called out, and your pulse quickened. You turn slowly to face him

"Hey, Wonwoo. Uh what's up?" you casually, trying to hide the fact that your face is burning because of him and not the cold winds

"Just got out of class, are you walking home?"

"Yea, on my way home too. Anyways, I better get going. See you... around" you wave goodbye and started to walk again.

You hear the car door open and steps behind you, "Are you avoiding me?" his question makes you stop on your tracks. Turning around to see him leaning against the passenger side of his car

“Uh... I... It’s just—” you stutter, and then you realize you can’t lie about it anymore. “It’s because of... the kiss.”

His face doesn’t shift, no surprise or confusion. He just looks at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours for a moment too long. And then, as if it’s nothing at all, he shrugs.

“It wasn’t even a kiss, Y/N,” he says coolly, as though it’s no big deal. “It was just... part of the game. Nothing to worry about.”

The words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You’re disappointed, though you try not to show it. You wanted something more. You wanted him to acknowledge the tension, the fact that there was something between you two, something real.

But of course, that was just how Wonwoo was—nonchalant, distant, and always acting like everything was just nothing.

You couldn’t help the slight sinking feeling in your chest. You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Right. Of course,” you mutter, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the disappointment you feel.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You feel awkward, standing there on the sidewalk, his car still idling beside you. But then he speaks again, his tone softening just slightly, though still with that signature aloofness.

“Get in. I’ll drive you home.” he opens the passenger door, waiting for you.

You hesitate. You should just say no, continue walking, put some distance between you. But you’re tired, emotionally drained, and there's something about his voice—something about the way he’s offering that makes it hard to refuse. You sigh, not knowing what to say but not wanting to make things worse. You step toward the car, sliding into the passenger seat without another word.

As he pulls away, the silence in the car is thick, and you can’t stop the thoughts that swirl in your head. You want to ask him, want to know if that kiss meant anything to him, or if he really did feel nothing about it.

But that’s just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Always distant, always playing it cool, never letting anyone get too close.

The drive to your place feels like an eternity, but in the back of your mind, you know this silence between you two is only going to build the tension more. You just wish he would break it.

It wasn’t easy, but you were getting better at avoiding him. The subtle things you used to do for him—saving him a seat in the library, offering him drinks or homemade cookies—had all stopped. You still couldn’t bring yourself to fully confront your feelings for him, and honestly, it felt like the only way to protect yourself was to distance yourself from him as much as possible.

You told yourself it was for the best. You told yourself that the space you were creating would help you get over him. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much time passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always watching, always noticing.

And, of course, he noticed. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but he was observant, maybe more so than he let on. He noticed that you stopped going out of your way to be kind to him. He noticed the absence of the small, thoughtful gestures you used to offer. At first, he didn’t say anything, uncertain of what was going on, or whether he even had the right to ask you about it.

But eventually, he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

It was late in the afternoon when you were walking alone on campus, heading toward the library to meet up with Mimi. The cool breeze made your hair dance around your face, and the noise of the campus life seemed distant, as if you were in your own little bubble.

As you passed by the gym, you saw him. Wonwoo. He had just finished his workout, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his T-shirt sticking to his body in that way it always did after a session. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly turned your attention elsewhere, pretending you hadn’t seen him.

But he saw you. Of course, he did.

“Y/N,” Wonwoo called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise, his footsteps quickening to match yours. You tried not to flinch as you heard him approaching, but your pulse was racing.

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, hoping your expression didn’t betray the nervousness bubbling up inside you. “Wonwoo?” you said, keeping your voice steady even though it felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest.

He stopped in front of you, looking at you for a beat too long, like he was sizing you up. The look on his face was unreadable, but you could see the confusion in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed slightly as he took you in.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

"Stop?" You repeated, confused by his question. What was he even talking about?

"Yeah," he continued, his voice casual, but there was something different in it now. Something that made you feel like you were under a microscope. "You stopped... saving me seats, or bringing me stuff. You used to do that all the time."

You didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to lie, to say it was no big deal, that you were just too busy or distracted with school, but something in his eyes made you hesitate. The truth, the real reason you were avoiding him, was too complicated. You couldn’t say it outright.

“I just… I guess I’ve been busy,” you said quietly, avoiding his gaze. “Things just… changed, I guess.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, as though trying to understand, but he didn’t push. There was no challenge in his voice, no annoyance. It was just curiosity, genuine and unassuming.

"Okay," he said after a beat, his eyes still locked on you. “I just thought you were mad at me or something.”

You felt a pang of guilt at his words, but you brushed it aside. “I’m not mad, Wonwoo. I’m just... I don’t know." You shook your head, unsure of how to explain your feelings without making things even more awkward. “I guess I just needed space.”

There was a pause, and then, for the first time in a while, he looked almost... vulnerable. "Space? For what?"

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You could hear the underlying question in his voice, even if he wasn’t asking it directly. Why had you pulled away from him? Why had you stopped the small things that used to come so naturally?

Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo let out a small sigh, and though his expression was still unreadable, there was something softer in his tone. “Alright. I just wanted to know.”

Without waiting for you to respond, he turned to leave, his steps slow but purposeful. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him walk away, the weight of his question lingering in the air between you.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were disappointed in. Was it because he hadn’t pushed you to explain? Or was it because, deep down, you were still waiting for him to say something, anything, to make you feel like your feelings weren’t so one-sided after all?

But that was just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Detached, distant, and never quite giving you the answers you needed.

And yet, even as you watched him disappear into the distance, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder—maybe he did want to know.

The cool breeze of the evening felt nice against your skin as you walked through the quiet neighborhood, sipping on your banana milk. The streets were relatively empty, the soft hum of the evening a welcome relief after a busy week. You didn’t have a particular destination in mind—just wanted to clear your head and enjoy the peace for a while.

As you walked past the familiar basketball court, you spotted a figure out of the corner of your eye. At first, you didn’t think much of it, but then the silhouette registered in your mind. It was Wonwoo.

You stopped in your tracks, unsure whether to approach him or just keep walking. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, too focused on dribbling the ball and taking shots at the hoop. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the court, and for a moment, you found yourself just watching him. There was something about his movements that seemed different, something tight in the way he played—like he was working through something that was bothering him.

Maybe it was the way his jaw was clenched or the way his shoulders were hunched. He looked almost frustrated, the usual nonchalance replaced by something more intense. You stood there, quietly sipping your drink, lost in thought as you watched him.

You were so absorbed in the moment that you didn’t see the ball coming toward you. It hit you squarely on the head before you could react.

"Ouch!" you exclaimed, wincing as you staggered back a step.

Wonwoo’s head snapped toward you immediately, his eyes wide with concern. He jogged over, his long legs covering the distance quickly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice laced with worry. He stood in front of you, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of injury.

You rubbed your head, trying to play it off as no big deal. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t paying attention,” you muttered, but you could tell by the way Wonwoo was looking at you that he wasn’t convinced.

“Are you sure?” He reached up to gently touch the spot where the ball had hit you, his fingers lightly brushing the area. His touch was surprisingly soft, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest despite the situation.

“Really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, pulling back slightly. The last thing you needed was to be caught up in another one of these awkward moments with him.

But before you could brush it off entirely, something in you gave way. The distance you’d been trying to maintain, the walls you’d carefully built to protect yourself—suddenly, it felt so fragile. Maybe it was the way Wonwoo was looking at you so intently, or maybe it was the fact that it had been days since you last spoke. Whatever it was, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"I just thought I was being too much," you murmured, your gaze dropping to the ground. "And it’s not like you liked it."

Wonwoo froze, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed your words.

The air between you seemed to thicken, the awkwardness of the situation now mixed with something more vulnerable. You could feel your heart beating faster, the confession hanging in the air like a weight.

You regretted saying it the moment it left your lips, but it felt like the truth—no matter how painful it was. You didn’t want to keep putting yourself out there, offering him small gestures and favors if he wasn’t interested in them, or in you.

For a long moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything. His gaze softened, and he seemed to be carefully considering his next words. It wasn’t the detached, nonchalant Wonwoo you were used to.

This time, he seemed almost... human.

"You’re not being too much," he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual coldness. He met your eyes, and for the first time in a while, you saw something different in his gaze—something that wasn’t easy to define. "And I didn’t think it was annoying or anything."

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but the sincerity in his voice made you hesitate. Was he really saying that? Did he mean it?

“I thought you wouldn’t want me to keep doing those things for you if you didn’t care.”

Wonwoo’s expression softened even more, and he let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that was far more human than the usual composed Wonwoo you knew.

“You’re not being too much, and I guess I see why you think I didn't care. I never said I didn't” he says, this time with more conviction. “I just…” He trailed off, like he was searching for the right words. “I just didn’t know what to make of it. You were doing all these things, and I didn’t know how to react.”

There it was. The reason for his distance. The reason for his coldness. He hadn’t known how to handle your kindness. He hadn’t known what to do with the way you made him feel, and so he had kept his distance, just as you had.

“I’m sorry,” he added after a beat, looking slightly embarrassed, as though the admission was a little difficult for him.

You didn’t know what to say, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions. Had you really been wrong all along? Had he cared, but just not known how to show it?

You were so taken aback by his answer that your mind couldn't keep up. The words he had said, so simple, yet so unexpected, rattled your thoughts. I never said I didn’t care. Had you misread everything? Had all your attempts to keep your distance been for nothing?

"But then the kiss..."

"That was me being stupid, I should've apologized for invading your space like that and you look really bothered by it. I was being dumb"

"Well you did say it was just a game" you mumble

"Like I said, I was being dumb and I apologize" he shoots you a quick apologetic smile

Before you could process anything more, your face heated up with embarrassment. You felt suddenly shy, the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, making it harder to breathe.

“I—” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt a nervous energy surge through you, a mix of confusion and the rush of emotions you were trying to keep hidden.

“I’m fine, really.” You managed to give him a small, flustered smile, hoping it would make him stop worrying about you.

But Wonwoo wasn’t convinced. He stepped a little closer, eyes scanning you with concern. “You don’t seem fine,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked you over. “You sure you’re not concussed or something? You hit your head pretty hard.”

Your heart raced at the proximity, and you could feel the overwhelming urge to escape before you made a bigger fool of yourself. He was too close.

“No, really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words coming out in a rush as you took a step back. You were panicking, trying to make sense of everything, but all you wanted in that moment was to get away from him. To breathe. To process what had just happened.

Before you knew it, your feet were already moving, backing away from him at a faster pace. You didn’t even think about it—your body just reacted, the instinct to escape taking over.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo called after you, his voice filled with concern, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t deal with this right now. Not with him standing there, looking so sincere and worried, when you were still trying to understand everything that had just happened.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go!” you shouted over your shoulder, not daring to look back.

You could hear him calling your name again, but you didn’t stop. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned down the nearby street, running as fast as you could without looking back.

You kept running, trying to outrun the mess of emotions that swirled inside you. The awkwardness, the guilt, the confusion—it was all too much. And you couldn’t deal with it now.

As you finally slowed down, your breath coming in heavy gasps, you leaned against a nearby wall, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your heartbeat. You’d never done anything like that before—just ran away from a conversation like it was nothing. But in that moment, it felt like the only thing you could do.

What had just happened? Why did his words make you feel like everything inside you was unraveling?

You were doing well—at least, you thought you were.

For the past few days, you had managed to avoid any direct interaction with Wonwoo. You kept your distance, keeping your head down whenever he was around, avoiding his gaze, and hiding whenever you could. It was easier that way. You convinced yourself it was better this way.

But then, on this particular day, as you were gathering your things at the end of class, preparing to leave, you felt a tug on the hood of your jacket. You froze, instinctively jerking away from the sudden contact.

"Y/N," a calm voice spoke, and you looked up to find Wonwoo standing there, looking down at you with a slightly amused, yet nonchalant expression. He didn’t seem angry, just... observing.

You felt your heart skip a beat, and before you could stop yourself, your cheeks began to heat up. His gaze was steady, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as if he was asking you, Are you really doing this?

You didn’t know how to respond. Every part of you wanted to turn away and just leave before things got any worse, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.

“I... I wasn’t... trying to hide,” you stammered, but your voice came out weaker than you’d intended.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, not saying anything at first. He didn’t need to. His gaze alone spoke volumes. He was just waiting for you to admit what was going on.

You shifted uncomfortably, biting your lower lip as you awkwardly tried to avoid his gaze. “I... didn’t know how to talk to you,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been... confusing. And I thought... maybe it was better to just keep my distance.”

Wonwoo didn’t seem angry. In fact, the amused look on his face lingered, but there was something else there, something softer that you weren’t used to seeing from him. “You’ve been avoiding me for days now,” he said in that same calm tone, his voice unbothered. “But running away won’t make this go away, you know.”

You winced at his words, feeling the weight of them more than you wanted to admit. But you couldn’t deny that he was right. It wasn’t going to disappear just because you ran away from it.

“I... I don’t know what to say to you,” you confessed, feeling all your anxiety bubbling up again. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I just...”

“Just what?” Wonwoo asked, his expression unreadable now, his voice still quiet but insistent. “You think I won’t understand?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I don’t know if you will,” you murmured, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I thought maybe... maybe it was easier to just pretend it didn’t matter.”

Wonwoo studied you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “You think it doesn’t matter?” he asked, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “You’re the one who’s been giving me things, doing things for me. It matters.”

You felt your heart beat faster, unsure of how to handle this newfound vulnerability in his voice. It was unlike him, and it was making everything even more complicated.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you said quietly, your hands still fidgeting with the sleeves of your jacket. “I thought... maybe I was just being annoying.”

Wonwoo let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Y/N... you weren’t being annoying. I just didn’t know how to respond to you, okay?” His voice softened further, a hint of frustration in it now, but not at you—at himself, maybe. "I didn't know what you wanted from me."

You stared at him, unsure what to say. His words were hitting you in a way you hadn’t expected, and the confusion that had been gnawing at you for so long started to ebb, replaced by a different kind of uncertainty.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed by his own admission, but then his gaze returned to yours. “I didn’t know how to. It’s easier for me to just... not talk about these things." He paused, then gave you a small, almost hesitant smile. "But I’m trying, okay?”

The sincerity in his words made your chest ache, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, but at the same time, it was replaced by something new—something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

“So... what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.

Wonwoo stepped closer, a subtle movement that somehow felt like the most intimate thing. His expression was still calm, but there was a softness in it now that made your heart race. “Now, we talk. No more running away.”

You didn’t know what that would mean for you, for him, for whatever this was between you. But right now, it felt like you might finally be able to stop avoiding the truth.

You find yourself sitting across him at a diner outside campus. The booth was cozy, the dim lighting giving the place a warm, inviting atmosphere. But despite the warmth of the surroundings, you felt cold. The walls you’d carefully built around yourself seemed to be crumbling, and the closer you got to Wonwoo, the more vulnerable you felt.

You hadn’t said much since you’d arrived, your gaze bouncing around the diner, avoiding his eyes whenever they found yours.

Wonwoo, however, was watching you with quiet amusement, his gaze flickering between you and the menu in his hands. He could tell you were uncomfortable, restlessly fiddling with your hands, your eyes constantly darting away whenever he caught you looking at him.

"Hey," he finally said, his voice calm but carrying a teasing edge. "You seem a little... tense."

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond, but before you could say anything, you noticed your own body language—a slight fidget, your shoulders stiff, your legs crossed tightly. You shifted in your seat, trying to make yourself comfortable, but it wasn’t working. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on you.

“I... I just don’t like sitting across from people,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze still averted. “It’s too much pressure, I guess.”

Wonwoo didn’t hesitate. Without saying a word, he slid out of the booth, shifting to the side next to you. The movement was casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. He wasn’t judging you for your discomfort. Instead, he was meeting you halfway, making you feel... seen.

He settled beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned back against the booth, a relaxed smile spreading across his face. He was so close now, and you felt a sudden rush of warmth flood your chest. Your heart skipped a beat, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from the unexpected comfort of his presence.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low and surprisingly gentle, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of unease.

You nodded, but this time, you didn’t shy away from meeting his gaze. The proximity made everything feel a little more real, a little more grounded. And, for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel the need to run away.

“Yeah,” you murmured, still a little flustered, but this time, the smile on your lips was more genuine, more relaxed. “This feels better.”

Wonwoo smirked, clearly pleased with your response, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me.”

“So…” You hesitated for a moment, still unsure of how to navigate this new dynamic between you. “What now?”

Wonwoo’s gaze softened, and he shrugged casually, though his eyes held a certain sincerity. “Now, we eat, and we talk. You don’t have to worry about running away anymore.” He paused, then added with a small smile, “And no more avoiding me, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. This wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start figuring things out—with him, and with yourself.

You nodded slowly, the silence between you wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t easy, either. It felt like there were a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air, and neither of you knew how to address them.

Then, Wonwoo spoke, his voice calm and steady. “What’s your go-to drink order?”

You blinked, startled by the question. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, that wasn’t what you expected. “Uh…” You hesitated, glancing at him briefly before looking back down at your hands. “Probably... iced vanilla latte. Or banana milk,” you added with a nervous laugh, gesturing to the nearly empty carton in front of you, you pulled it out of your bag a few minutes ago.

Wonwoo nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you liked banana milk. I see you drinking it a lot.”

Your cheeks heated up at his observation, and you ducked your head, suddenly very aware of how closely he paid attention to you. “Yeah, it’s kind of a comfort drink,” you admitted softly. “What about you?”

“Americano,” he replied easily. “No sugar.”

You scrunched your nose at that, and Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your reaction. “What?” he teased. “Not a fan of bitter drinks?”

“Not really,” you admitted, daring a quick glance at him before looking away again. “I like sweet things.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving you. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

You bit your lip, trying to think. The way he was watching you so intently made your brain feel foggy, and it was hard to focus. “Probably... cheesecake,” you finally said. “Strawberry cheesecake.”

He hummed thoughtfully, as if filing that piece of information away. “Strawberry cheesecake,” he repeated, his voice soft. “Noted.”

“Why are you asking me this?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Wonwoo shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just trying to get to know you better.”

That answer caught you off guard. You looked down at your lap, your hands twisting nervously. “But... why?”

He didn’t answer right away, and when you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, you found him watching you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache. “Because I want to,” he said simply, his voice quiet but certain.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you quickly looked away again, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Wonwoo didn’t push you to say anything else. He let the silence settle again, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. It felt... different. Like he was giving you space to process, to breathe.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe he wasn’t as far out of reach as you’d always thought.

It's suppose to be another normal day. You're in class, sitting next to MImi still feeling sleepy but then something slides infront of you.

You stared at the banana milk on your desk like it had suddenly sprouted wings. Slowly, you turned back to look at Wonwoo, who was casually flipping through his notebook like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Mimi, sitting to your right, nudged your arm, her expression a mix of confusion and barely-contained glee. “What’s going on?” she whispered, her eyes darting between you and Wonwoo like she was trying to piece together a crime scene.

“I have no idea,” you whispered back

You leaned slightly toward Wonwoo, lowering your voice as much as possible. “What are you doing?”

“Attending class,” he replied, not even looking up from his notebook. His tone was so calm, so casual, that for a moment you thought you’d imagined him moving seats altogether.

“Here?” you pressed, glancing over your shoulder again to see his friends Vernon and Minghao, who were both watching the two of you with poorly hidden smirks. Minghao even gave you a small wave, which only made you more flustered.

Wonwoo finally looked at you, his expression as neutral as ever. “Why not?”

Before you could respond, he nudged the banana milk closer to you. “You like this, right?”

You blinked down at the carton, your brain short-circuiting. “I... yeah, but—”

“Then drink it.” His tone was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

Beside you, Mimi’s jaw was practically on the floor. “Okay, what is going on here?” she hissed under her breath, leaning closer to you. “Did you bribe him? Threaten him? Sell your soul to some matchmaking demon?”

“I don’t know!” you whispered back, your voice frantic as you stared at the banana milk like it held all the answers to life’s mysteries.

Wonwoo, clearly aware of the hushed conversation happening beside him, leaned back in his chair and glanced at Mimi. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his calm demeanor never faltering.

Mimi froze, her eyes wide as she realized he was addressing her directly. “Uh, no? Nothing’s wrong,” she stammered, clearly trying to play it cool. “Just... curious, that’s all.”

Wonwoo nodded, satisfied with her answer, and turned his attention back to his notebook, leaving you and Mimi to exchange bewildered looks.

The rest of the class passed in a blur. You were hyper-aware of Wonwoo’s presence beside you, the subtle sound of him turning pages, the occasional shift in his seat, even the faint scent of his cologne. You couldn’t focus on the lecture to save your life, and every time you caught Mimi looking at you, she wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made you want to crawl under the desk.

When the class finally ended, you quickly packed up your things, eager to escape before your brain completely melted. But as you stood up, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Walk with me,” he said, his tone more of a statement than a question.

You glanced at Mimi, who was watching the scene unfold with wide eyes and a grin that was far too smug for your liking. “Go ahead,” she said, waving you off. “I’ll meet you later.”

Before you could argue, Wonwoo gently tugged your wrist, guiding you toward the door. You followed him, your heart racing as you wondered what on earth he was up to now.

You were half jogging to keep up with Wonwoo’s long strides, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist as he led you through the campus. It wasn’t like he was walking that fast—it was just that his legs were ridiculously long compared to yours.

Your steps were hurried, almost clumsy, as you tried to keep up. “Wonwoo,” you huffed, glancing at his back, “can you slow down? Not all of us have tree trunks for legs, you know.”

He glanced back at you, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “We’ll be late if I slow down,” he said simply, but his pace did ease up slightly.

It was almost cute—too cute, honestly. The height difference, the way you had to trudge along behind him like a kid trying to keep up. And then there was him: calm, composed, and acting like dragging you to your next class was just a normal, everyday occurrence.

By the time you reached the door of your classroom, you were slightly out of breath. Wonwoo, of course, looked as unbothered as ever. He gently let go of your wrist and gestured for you to go in.

“Go,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To my class,” he replied, as though it was obvious.

You frowned, gesturing vaguely in the direction you had just come from. “Your class isn’t here?”

“Nope,” he said, already turning on his heel to walk away. “It’s on the other side of campus.”

You stared at him, your jaw dropping. “The opposite side?”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder to meet your incredulous gaze. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then why did you—” You cut yourself off, not even sure how to finish the sentence.

Wonwoo just shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Felt like walking you,” he said simply, as though it was no big deal.

And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing at the door of your classroom, completely flustered and at a loss for words.

What is he doing to me? you thought, burying your face in your hands. Whatever game Wonwoo was playing, it was definitely working.

This new routine had become so normal that you almost stopped questioning it—not that you were any less flustered every time Wonwoo waited for you after class or walked you across campus. It was just easier to let it happen, even if your heart constantly felt like it was doing somersaults. Mimi teased you endlessly about it, of course, but you’d stopped trying to defend yourself. What could you even say?

One afternoon, just as class was ending, Wonwoo approached you while you were packing up your things. You were expecting him to grab his bag and lead you out of the room like usual, but instead, he hesitated.

“I have something to do after class today,” he said, his voice soft yet direct, his hands casually shoved into his pockets. “I can’t drive you home.”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Oh, that’s okay. I can just—”

“Wait,” he interrupted, giving you a look that made you freeze. “Are you going to walk home alone?”

You faltered, unsure how to answer. “I mean, it’s not that far...”

He frowned at that, clearly not liking your response. “I don’t like the idea of you walking home alone.”

Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you quickly brushed it off, waving your hand dismissively. “It’s really fine, Wonwoo. I’ve walked home alone before.”

“Not anymore,” he said firmly, pulling out his phone.

You raised an eyebrow as he started dialing, wondering what on earth he was doing. “What are you—”

“Hey,” he said into the phone, cutting you off. “Where are you right now? Can you drive someone home for me?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he really calling someone just to make sure you didn’t walk home alone?

A few moments later, he hung up and turned back to you. “Vernon and Minghao are nearby. They’ll drive you home.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, your voice rising slightly in disbelief. “Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”

“I already did,” he said simply, grabbing his bag. “They’ll meet you outside in five minutes. Just wait for them, okay?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t stern, exactly, but it was... serious. Protective. Like he genuinely wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you.

You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing. “Fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He softened at that, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good. I’ll text you later.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind reeling.

When you made your way outside, Vernon and Minghao were waiting by Vernon’s car, both of them looking far too amused for your liking.

“So,” Vernon said, leaning casually against the hood of the car, “you’re the one Wonwoo’s been babying lately.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Can we not talk about this?”

Minghao chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. “Don’t worry, we won’t tease you too much. Wonwoo’s been... different lately, though. It’s kind of interesting to watch.”

“Different how?” you asked, sliding into the car and buckling your seatbelt.

Vernon smirked as he started the engine. “Let’s just say you bring out a side of him we didn’t know existed.”

You couldn’t decide if that made you feel flattered or even more flustered. Either way, as they drove you home, you couldn’t stop thinking about the lengths Wonwoo had gone to just to make sure you were safe. And even though it was embarrassing, a small, shy smile found its way to your lips.

Later that night, just as you were about to settle into bed, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You blinked at the screen, momentarily stunned when you saw the name.

Wonwoo.

Your heart immediately started racing. He had texted you before, sure, but calling? This was new. Hesitantly, you picked up, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice was deep and smooth, laced with a certain warmth that made you grip your phone a little tighter. “Did you get home okay?”

You felt your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself. “Yeah, Vernon and Minghao dropped me off. You really didn’t have to go that far, you know.”

“I did,” he said simply. “I told you, I don’t like you walking alone.”

There was something about the way he said it—calm, steady, certain—that made your chest feel warm. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the giddy feeling bubbling inside you.

Instead, you changed the subject. “How was your thing after class? You never said what it was.”

“Just something for a group project,” he answered. “It took longer than I expected.”

You hummed in understanding. “That sucks.”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. Anyway, how was your day?”

At that, you perked up, launching into a detailed retelling of everything that had happened since class. You told him about Mimi’s latest antics, how she nearly got into an argument with a professor because she was convinced she turned in her assignment when she actually hadn’t. You talked about how Vernon and Minghao teased you the whole car ride home, about the new café you wanted to try, and even the silly little things that made you laugh that day.

Somewhere along the way, you noticed he had gone quiet.

“Wonwoo?” you called, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Are you still there?”

There was a pause, then his voice came through the speaker—soft, almost gentle.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

There was something different about the way he said it. He wasn’t just saying it to fill the silence. He meant it. He liked listening to you.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, but you pushed forward, finishing your story despite how shy you suddenly felt.

When you finally ran out of things to say, he let out a contented hum. “You should get some rest,” he murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your heart melted at how soft his voice was. “Okay,” you said quietly.

“Goodnight,” he added, and you swore you could hear the smallest smile in his voice.

“Goodnight, Wonwoo.”

The call ended, and for a moment, you just sat there, staring at your phone. Then, all at once, the emotions hit you like a tidal wave.

You let out a loud groan, grabbed your pillow, and screamed into it.

“What are you doing to me, Jeon Wonwoo?!”

Your pillow, of course, had no answers. But one thing was clear—you were so doomed.

It's a few weeks later, you're at the cafe you frequently hang out when you have free time. The usual, you're on your yapping mode while Wonwoo listens. But then you said something you didn't mean to tell him.

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze.

You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It was just one of those things you only ever admitted to Mimi—how you were so confused about what was going on between you and Wonwoo.

But now, you had just said it. Right in front of him.

Your heart stopped.

Slowly, hesitantly, you turned to look at him.

Wonwoo was already staring at you, that small, amused smile still lingering on his lips—but his eyes held something else. Something unreadable.

For the first time, he didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t tease you, didn’t brush it off. He just watched you, as if he was carefully thinking about what to say.

You scrambled to fix it. “I-I mean—” you let out a nervous laugh, waving your hands. “Forget I said that! It was just, um, something stupid I told Mimi—”

Wonwoo tilted his head, his gaze still locked on you. “You’re confused?” he asked, his voice calm.

You swallowed. “I mean... yeah?”

Silence.

The tension was unbearable. Your heart was practically screaming in your chest.

Finally, he leaned back, eyes flickering to the coffee in front of him. Then, after a long pause, he spoke again.

“What do you want us to be?”

Your breath hitched.

You stared at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. Your mind raced, completely unprepared for the question.

“I—” you fumbled, gripping the edge of your sleeves. “I don’t know...”

Another pause. Then, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Liar.”

Your head snapped up. “Excuse me?!”

Wonwoo met your gaze again, eyes knowing, almost too knowing. He didn’t look mad. If anything, he looked fond—like he had already figured out the answer before you even realized it yourself.

Your face burned. “I’m not lying—”

“You’ve liked me for a long time.” His voice was so casual, so matter-of-fact, that it left you speechless.

Your entire body tensed.

Oh my god.

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

Everyone knew. You knew he knew. But hearing him say it so bluntly, with no hesitation—it made your stomach flip.

You wanted to disappear.

“I—” You swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at him. “Okay, so maybe that’s true, but—”

“But?” He was still watching you, waiting.

“But I don’t know what you want.” The words came out smaller than you intended, but they were honest. “You... you’re always around now, Wonwoo. You drive me home, you wait for me after class, you listen to me ramble all the time. I just—” You bit your lip. “I don’t know what that means to you.”

Another silence.

Wonwoo didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he reached for his coffee, taking a slow sip. Then, with the same infuriatingly calm expression, he set it back down, resting his chin against his palm as he gazed at you.

And then—

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your hands clenched under the table, heart pounding in your ears. You knew what he was implying, you felt what he was saying without words, but you still couldn’t believe it.

And Wonwoo—knowing you so well—could see that.

So, he leaned in slightly, his voice quieter this time.

“I wouldn’t do all of this if you weren’t special to me.”

Your brain short-circuited.

You felt like your heart had stopped entirely, like you had forgotten how to breathe.

Jeon Wonwoo—who had spent years acting nonchalant toward you—was now sitting here, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You didn’t know what to say.

So, naturally, you panicked.

“I—um—I need to go to the bathroom!” you blurted out, shoving your chair back as you stood up abruptly.

Wonwoo blinked, a bit startled, before letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re running away?”

“I am not running away!”

“You’re literally running away.”

“I need to pee!” you lied, voice high-pitched as you quickly turned toward the restroom.

Behind you, you heard Wonwoo laugh—actually laugh—before calling out, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

You groaned, covering your face as you rushed away.

This was too much.

Jeon Wonwoo was too much.

When you finally gathered the courage to come back, your heart was still hammering in your chest. You had taken extra minutes in the restroom just to stare at yourself in the mirror, mentally screaming and trying to convince yourself to act normal.

Except—how could you act normal after what just happened?

You cautiously made your way back to the booth, and there he was—Wonwoo, sitting comfortably with one arm draped over the back of the seat, sipping his drink as if he hadn't just dropped that bomb on you.

And then, when he noticed you, his lips curled into that teasing smile.

“You good?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “Took you a while.”

Your face heated.

“I had to—um, you know—actually pee.” You sat down stiffly, eyes fixed on the table.

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t look convinced at all.

You fidgeted, not knowing what to say. Now that you knew he felt something for you, you had no idea how to act around him. You weren’t prepared for this. You had spent so long assuming your feelings were one-sided that the moment he admitted otherwise, your brain completely shut down.

And Wonwoo—of course—noticed.

He watched you with that quiet amusement, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, after a beat, he spoke again.

“Are you still confused?”

Your breath caught.

You looked up at him—finally meeting his gaze—and you regretted it immediately because he was already staring at you.

His dark eyes, calm and steady, held a kind of certainty that made your stomach flip.

“I—” You swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Wonwoo hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “I see.”

You thought that would be the end of it, that he would back off and give you time to process—but no.

Instead, he leaned in.

Not dramatically, not forcefully. Just enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, enough that your breath hitched and your hands curled into fists in your lap.

Then, in a voice so quiet that it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered,

“Then tell me…”

His eyes flickered to your lips before locking back onto yours.

“What do you want me to be?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Your body went completely still.

The weight of the question—the meaning behind it—hit you all at once, and suddenly, everything felt too real.

Wonwoo was still watching you, waiting, his face unfairly close to yours. He wasn’t teasing anymore. He wasn’t joking. He was giving you the choice—asking you to decide what this was between you.

And you…

You had no idea how to answer.

Because for the first time ever—

You realized that your silly little crush wasn’t so one-sided after all.

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were sure he could hear it.

What did you want him to be?

For so long, you had thought the answer was simple—you wanted him, you always had. But now that he was actually asking you, the words caught in your throat.

You were frozen, caught between the overwhelming weight of your long-time feelings and the terrifying reality of facing them head-on.

Wonwoo didn’t move. He was still leaning close, his dark eyes fixed on yours, waiting patiently. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing you to answer, but that only made it worse.

You wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a small, breathless,

“I—”

And then you panicked.

Your body moved before your brain could catch up—you quickly grabbed your drink and took the biggest gulp imaginable, as if that would somehow wash away the moment.

It didn’t.

Instead, Wonwoo let out a quiet chuckle, finally leaning back, giving you space.

“You’re cute when you panic.”

You almost choked.

“I’m not panicking,” you sputtered, setting your drink down with a little too much force.

His lips twitched, clearly not believing you. “So, what’s your answer?”

“I—” You exhaled, gripping the hem of your shirt. “This is a lot, okay? You just—you never made it seem like you liked me before, and now you’re—” You gestured vaguely at him. “—doing all this and it’s messing with my brain.”

Wonwoo tilted his head, looking at you with quiet curiosity. “I never made it seem like I liked you?”

You gave him a look.

He hummed, gaze flickering downward for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “That’s not true.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“I just… don’t show it the way you do.” He said it so casually, so matter-of-fact, as if it was something you should’ve known all along.

You stared at him, your brain struggling to process his words.

And then, as if to prove his point, Wonwoo reached out—his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment before he grabbed your wrist, gently pulling your hand closer to him.

Your breath hitched.

“Do you really think I would’ve let just anyone take care of me the way you did?” His voice was lower now, softer, as his thumb absentmindedly traced slow circles against the back of your hand. “I noticed, you know. Every time you saved me a seat, every time you gave me something without expecting anything in return.”

You swallowed thickly.

Wonwoo glanced down at your intertwined hands, as if realizing he was still holding you. But instead of letting go, he gave your fingers a small, almost hesitant squeeze.

“I didn’t ignore it because I didn’t care,” he admitted. “I just… didn’t know how to respond.”

The confession made something in your chest tighten.

Wonwoo had always been unreadable to you—his quiet, nonchalant demeanor making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. But now, sitting here with him, listening to him actually talk about his feelings, you realized that he wasn’t cold at all. He was just careful.

He let out a quiet sigh. “But when you stopped…” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “I didn’t like that.”

You blinked. “You didn’t?”

He shook his head. “No.”

It was such a simple response, yet it made your heart race all over again.

There was a small beat of silence before he spoke again, quieter this time.

“I missed you.”

Your chest ached.

All this time, you had thought your feelings were a burden to him—that he barely noticed you, let alone missed you. But here he was, telling you otherwise, proving you wrong in the gentlest way possible.

Your fingers curled around his, gripping back.

“…I missed you too.”

Wonwoo smiled, the kind of small, rare smile that made your stomach flip.

“So,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, “are you still confused?”

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. “…Maybe.”

He chuckled. “Then should I make it clearer?”

You sucked in a breath when he leaned in again, just close enough that you could see the soft curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes.

His gaze flickered to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

“What do you want me to be?” he asked again, voice barely above a whisper.

"Do I have to answer now?"

Wonwoo just smiled at your question. That soft, knowing kind of smile that made your stomach do flips.

“Take your time,” he said simply, "You waited for me, without expecting anything. It's my turn now" he tells you.

You could barely meet his eyes, your fingers twitching against his. “I just—this is a lot, okay?”

“I know.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a soothing motion. “That’s why I’m letting you decide.”

That didn’t help at all.

You groaned internally, dropping your forehead onto the table in defeat. “You’re making this so much worse, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He chuckled, and you could feel his amusement. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the one blushing like crazy.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed again, and you hated how much you loved the sound.

After a moment, you hesitantly lifted your head, still unable to look at him directly. “…So, you’re not gonna, like, be weird about this?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not gonna pressure me?”

“No.”

“You’re just gonna… wait?”

Wonwoo leaned back against the booth, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours. “As long as you need me to, as long as you want me here”

Your breath hitched.

Oh.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart squeeze at his words.

“…Okay,” you mumbled.

“Okay?”

You nodded shyly, finally—finally—glancing up at him. “I’ll think about it.”

His lips twitched, amused. “Good.”

And then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, Wonwoo lifted your hand to his lips and pressed the lightest, softest kiss against your knuckles.

Your brain completely shut down.

“You—” You squeaked, yanking your hand back as if you had just been electrocuted.

Wonwoo just smirked.

“Take your time,” he repeated, looking way too satisfied with himself. “I’ll wait.”

And you knew—you knew—that no matter how much you tried to think about it, your heart had already decided.

[revelboo]

REVELLLLLLLL DROP ANOTHER MEGATRONUS FIC AND MY LIFE IS YOURRRRSSSSSS

honestly I’m such a big fan of your writing I’ve searched and searched for megatronus fics for so long and I have never found one but I checked your acc and I’ve never been so happy before like I’m addicted to your writing a lot of the time I look for transformers fanfics but I’ve never really liked them as much as yours and you also inspired me to start collecting transformers figures so I’m gonna start sooner or later cause things are expensive these days sadly 😔🤞🏽 but I don’t wanna start yapping so I’m gonna end it off here by revel have a beautiful weekend and week😋

I’m glad you like my nonsense! The figures are pretty fun to collect

Give It Up Pt 3

Megatronus Prime x Reader

• Venting in frustration when you swat his servos, chirping angrily, he just needs to see the little display on your arm long enough to figure out if he can pull your language from it. Something you’re absolutely not having. Studying your little suit more closely, he frowns. Maybe you’re breathing some exotic gas and need the suit to survive? “I don’t need your entire suit,” he says, holding a palm over his own arm and miming flipping up an invisible screen like you just did . Wishes he could get a better look at you, because your features are just an indistinct shadow through the tinted helmet. Staring up at him, you lay your own palm on your display and chirp softly. “On my honor, I’ll return your tech to you.”

• Grumbling, his awful language, he repeats the gesture. Why does he want your display? While you can detach it, you’re not sure you should. Though you doubt the super advanced living robot is the least bit interested in your tech. It’s probably the equivalent of a DOS computer to you. Or maybe a telegram. He’s defiantly not stealing secrets from it. And he’s not hurt you so far. Shook you until you nearly hurled, but you don’t think he was trying to harm you. If you’re trapped who knows where, you’re going to need someone to trust. You really hope that’s him.

• Chirping unhappily, you mess with the display until it detaches and hold the tiny thing out. And it’s such a shock that you’re willing to trust him. Extending a servo, he waits while you look at the display then at him before laying it on his servo. “Thank you, little one.” Lifting it, he squints at the tiny thing and shifts it to his datapad to try to sync the primitive technology. “You’re being very brave.”

• You really hope your GPS isn’t in the display. Really wish you’d paid more attention when the tech guys were explaining the minutiae of the suits instead of being terrified of what you were going to find on the other side of the portal. Giant, alien robots definitely hadn’t been on your bingo card, though. What can he even get off the thing, really? Nothing dangerous. Probably? Like coordinates to your world? “Please don’t be an evil, giant robot.”

• Waiting for the datapad to compile and create a language file for him, he studies you. Wonders what organics eat and how exactly you’d wound up on Cybertron. A peaceful explorer? You don’t seem to have any weapons. Can’t understand the language. And you’re so tiny as to be helpless. Probably not a warring species. Certainly don’t look at all intimidating in your puffy little suit. Moving closer, you rock up on tiptoe to try and see his datapad and chirp at him. Pointing with a finger and you’re just so adorable. “I’m going to give it back,” he reassures you, smiling behind his mask. Definitely not a warring species. You’re much too cute to be dangerous.

Previous

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ SEUNGHYUN (T.O.P) AS YOUR HUSBAND

୨ৎ pairing: husband!seunghyun x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! with mild sex talk

୨ৎ from myeong: hi!!! super duper excited to take this request since he’s been my love since I was a very young girl! have always looked up to him and I’m so happy to be writing for him!! and he’s back?! wooo!! please enjoy this! x

he’s going to be a very caring, attentive, and thoughtful husband. I don’t care what anyone else says about him, he’s going to be the bestest husband and do all that he can to make you happy.

is he perfect? nope. not even close to it and no one is perfect but what he does is try and he shows you that he cares and cares enough to work hard to keep the relationship as healthy as it can be.

sometimes isn’t clingy because he wants you to be the one to break first. he definitely enjoys watching you run to him for a hug, kiss, or something else.

shy!!!! he’s not shy all the time and likes to be the dominant one in the relationship of course and in a very non toxic way but when he does feel shy it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen a man do.

“what? you think this suit looks good on me? oh.. it’s what they told me to wear and honestly I wasn’t sure if it was too much.. but since you like it—”

he won’t finish because he’s looking down at the ground cheeks slightly pink from feeling a bit shy and embarrassed by how you keep staring at him and complimenting him. sounds weird for him hm? well! you’re just that special girl to him. I mean come on he married you!! he’s a different man now.

is very overly protective over you. will do all that he can to protect you and your relationship. since you are now a married couple he takes it to another level of wanting you and him protected as a couple.

“would you like to try this new dish with me? I can make it! or.. maybe.. we can cook it together?”

please cook with him because he secretly loves it and falls more in love with you watching how you cut up vegetables and the look on your pretty face when you’re concentrated and working. so cute

seunghyun is very obsessed with morning sex especially now as a married couple he just feels it’s needed and if you both don’t have time in the morning then expect before bedtime sex.

he loves trying new things with you. when he first brought up pulling hair.. it wasn’t yours. it was his. you pulled on his soft black locks and he felt this spark inside of him that he’s never felt before.

if it was a long night of sex he purposely gets up before you and makes you breakfast but not in bed since he’ll kindly drag you out of bed and have you sit at the table with him but you always end up sitting in his lap which he enjoys more of course.

“you’re such a pretty girl did you know that?”

“I.. love you a lot. thank you for loving me despite everything that I’ve been through. thank you.”

he’s a cautious husband and never wants you to feel hurt or anything close to that. he’ll do all that he can to make sure you’re happy, comfortable, and safe. he’s careful with his words especially when you two get into small arguments. he’s learned from the past on what not to do.

seunghyun is very emotional and he’s not afraid to show that with you. when he was younger it was a different story but he’s older now and has been through things that has shown him it’s okay to show such emotions. he trusts you as his wife and always cries in your arms if he desperately needs it.

expect movie nights with him!! which end in not watching the movie at all and just talking to each other about the weirdest topics or space of course.

will take so many pictures of you posing next to the moon specially the full moon since it’s his favorite! he finds it beautiful just like you. cries

nights in are his favorite but if you want to go out then he’ll do that for you. he’ll enjoy going on walks with you while eating ice cream his most favorite sweets. his free hand will hold yours tightly.

craves you in every way possible. he’ll need to kiss you often and stroke your hair or pull you closer to him and his larger frame. he enjoys how much shorter you are and constantly brings it up.

[jaikoyaki]

My Lover

//Kang Haerin x 6thMember!Reader//Short Oneshot//

SYPNOSIS ♡︎ Haerin isn’t the jealous type. At least, that’s what she tells herself—until she starts seeing clips of you and Minji all over the internet.

WARNINGS ♡︎ Jealousy, Possessiveness (soft and non-toxic), Brief Miscommunication, Shipping culture, Hidden Relationship(the members know lol)

WORDCOUNT ♡︎ 1.7k

TAGS ♡︎ Jealous!Haerin, Established Relationship, fluff, FLUFF(was literally kicking my feet while writing this), Light Angst??

A/N:This is a little 1am brain fart so If I cringe at it tomorrow, I’ll probably end up deleting it lol

"MINY/N SUPREMACY!!"

"Their chemistry is insane, are we SURE they’re just best friends??"

"Minji and Y/N have been inseparable lately."

Haerin scrolls through the comments under the latest clip of you and Minji’s interactions. The video itself is nothing special, just you laughing at one of Minji’s jokes, leaning into her like it’s second nature. But the fans eat it up.

The video loops again.

Your eyes crinkle when you smile at Minji. She reaches out instinctively when you stumble, her hand lingering just a second too long. And it’s not just one clip, there are dozens of them now. Edits spliced together, set to soft love songs, moments slowed down to exaggerate the way you two look at each other.

You aren’t Minji’s girlfriend.

You’re Haerin’s. Only hers.

But no one ever ships Haerin and Y/N. No one ever slows down the moments where she is the one next to you.

The thought settles in her chest, foreign and unfamiliar.

Jealousy.

But Haerin doesn’t get jealous.

…Right?

"They’re reaching." Haerin mutters under her breath.

She locks her phone and tosses it onto the bed. It’s just fan edits. Just harmless shipping. She’s known for a long time that people see what they want to see.

"Don’t let them get in your head.” 

But then why does her chest feel so tight?

Because one comment keeps repeating in her mind.

"Minji and Y/N have been inseparable lately."

And it’s true.

Lately, you’ve been stuck to Minji like glue. On stage. In the waiting room. During interviews. Even in practice.

And Haerin remembers—earlier, while filming behind-the-scenes content, you had shoved your phone in Minji’s face, barely able to contain your laughter.

"Min, look! "Minji looking at Y/N like she's the love of her life" oh my god, the heart eyes emoji is killing me! They're reaching so muchhh."

You wheezed, whispering the last part, playfully smacking Minji’s shoulder over and over as she groaned in embarrassment.

The members had laughed. Even the staff chuckled.

Haerin hadn’t.

She had been standing by the water station, fingers curling a little too tightly around a flimsy paper cup, watching as you laughed with Minji like it was the easiest thing in the world.

‘You’re not Minji’s girlfriend.’

She let the water run down her throat, but it did nothing to wash away the strange, unsettled feeling gnawing at her chest.

‘You’re mine.’

Before she even realized it, she was walking back toward the group.

She didn’t say anything, but you noticed immediately.

"Hey, baby, you okay?" You stepped in front of her, voice soft, concern evident in your eyes.

Haerin barely nodded.

You frowned, about to press further—

"Alright, break’s over!" the choreographer called.

You hesitated, eyes scanning her face, but eventually sighed and gave her hand a light squeeze before stepping back into position.

Haerin watched you go.

She told herself it didn’t bother her.

But that was a lie.

And now, before she even realizes it, she’s standing in front of your door.

Her jealousy isn’t loud. It never is.

But when she pushes the door open, stepping into the dim glow of your room, you feel it instantly—heavy in the air, simmering just beneath the surface.

The kind of jealousy that doesn’t need words to be known.

You barely register the sound of the door creaking open before a familiar presence fills the room.

“Rinnie?” Your voice is soft, questioning, as you sit up in bed. There’s only one person who wouldn’t bother knocking.

Your girlfriend.

Sure enough, Haerin steps inside, her small frame swallowed by an oversized pink hoodie, the hood pulled up with little bear ears perched on top. On any other night, you’d tease her about how ridiculously cute she looks.

But something feels off.

Despite the cozy hoodie, her posture is rigid, her expression unreadable. Haerin has always been hard to read, but this, this is different.

You frown slightly, setting your phone aside. “Rinnie?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she takes a slow step forward, then another, her gaze locked onto yours. And for some reason, the air between you shifts, thicker, heavier.

You swallow.

Something is definitely wrong.

You frown slightly. “Is something wrong, love?”

The second the word love leaves your lips, Haerin stiffens. Then, as if short-circuiting, she speed-walks toward you, her ears turning the faintest shade of pink.

Before you can react, she climbs onto the bed, quietly straddling your lap. Her arms snake around your waist as she buries her face into your neck, pressing impossibly close.

Warmth instantly floods your chest.

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around her in return. "You’re clingy tonight" you tease lightly, rubbing slow circles against her back.

Haerin hums in response, but doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, she tightens her grip, nuzzling further into you, her soft hair tickling your skin.

Gently, you murmur, “Seriously Though, what’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. A few beats pass, filled only by the quiet sound of your breathing. Then, finally, she mumbles against your skin, her voice barely above a whisper—

“Do you like seeing those videos?”

Your fingers still against her back.

Oh.

So that’s what this is about.

Smiling softly, you shift slightly, pressing a gentle kiss against the top of her hood. “Rinnie…”

She doesn’t lift her head, but you feel the way she tenses ever so slightly, waiting for your answer.

You sigh, pulling back just enough to cup her cheeks to meet your eyes. She resists at first, gaze flickering away, but you don’t let up. Your thumbs brush over the warmth of her skin, and slowly, reluctantly, her eyes find yours.

Her lips are pressed into a pout, her usual neutral expression betraying just the faintest hint of something vulnerable. It’s almost too cute to handle.

“The edits are kind of funny,” you admit, brushing your thumb along her cheek. “But they don’t mean anything.”

Haerin’s lips twitch, but she doesn’t respond.

A small pause.

“You’re always with Minji when we film,” she mutters.

You blink, momentarily taken aback by the shift in her tone.

“Minji isn’t your girlfriend,” she says, quieter this time. “I am.”

Your chest tightens at how small her voice sounds.

A soft laugh escapes you before you can stop it—not out of mockery, but out of sheer disbelief that this is what’s been eating at her. That your Haerin, quiet and composed, is sulking over some fan edits.

“Wait, are you jealous?” you tease, poking her cheek playfully.

Haerin doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she gently takes your wrist, her fingers curling around it, thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles against your skin. 

“…You don’t act like that with me.”

Your teasing smile fades.

“On camera, no,” you clarify, voice softer now. “You know how careful we have to be, Rinnie. I didn’t want to make things harder for you, so I thought keeping some distance was the best thing.”

Haerin stays quiet, her gaze locked onto where her fingers are still brushing against yours.

You tilt your head slightly, watching her. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought it was what you wanted.”

“I don’t like it,” she murmurs.

You exhale, squeezing her hand. “Then tell me what you do want.”

“I don’t want you getting shipped with Minji.”

“I don’t want you to distance yourself from me on camera.”

You hold her gaze for a moment before nodding.

“Okay.”

You don’t break your promise.

The next time the cameras are rolling, you make sure Haerin feels it.

During a phoning live, when Minji passes you a snack, you thank her without much thought—but instead of eating it right away, you turn to Haerin, holding it up to her lips first. She blinks, startled, but opens her mouth after a small hesitation. The chat explodes instantly.

📌@stayrkieeiiw

"Did I miss an update?? Since when were they like THIS???"

💬 @ynhaerinupdate

"WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN? WHY WAS I NOT INFORMED???"

🔁 @haerinno111

"Haerin’s little hesitation before eating lmao she was definitely malfunctioning."

During a music show, while the members are waiting backstage, you casually walk up behind Haerin and rest your chin on her shoulder. The cameras catch the moment as she flinches slightly in surprise before relaxing against you. You don’t move, just standing there with your arms loosely draped around her. The staff members barely react, too used to your antics, but the fans? They lose their minds.

📌 @gay4haerin

"WAIT, Y/N AND HAERIN?? HELLO???"

💬 @haerinsoftie

"They act like a married couple and expect us to be normal about it"

🔁@kpopfangirl24

“Y/N and Haerin have been so touchy lately???”

During a variety show game, you and Haerin end up on the same team. Every time she gets an answer right, you don’t just cheer, you grab her hands and shake them excitedly, or wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close in celebration. At one point, you’re so excited that you practically tackle her into a hug. She stumbles slightly, laughing, and the members tease you, but you don’t let go.

📌 @ynhaerin4life

“The way Y/N is all over her I CAN’T.”

💬 @njzrawr

“golden retriever x black cat energy”

🔁 @idkwhotostan

“Y/N and Haerin are so clingy In here, I need them to explain themselves IMMEDIATELY.”

On a phoning live, you’re seated next to Haerin, and for some reason, you can’t stop messing with her hoodie strings. You keep tugging them playfully, leaning in close whenever she tries to bat your hands away. Eventually, you give up on the strings and just rest your head on her shoulder instead. She freezes for a second, then lets out the softest sigh before tilting her head slightly so your temple rests against hers. The moment is short, but fans catch it instantly.

📌 @ynhaerin4life

"Haerin’s little smile when Y/N leans on her 😭.”

🔁 @multistan010

"Omg...do they know we can see them..?"

💬 @fuckhybeomg

"ARE WE ALL SEEING THIS?? IS THIS REAL??"

After a long day of promotions, the group films a short vlog in their practice room. You’re exhausted, so you naturally gravitate toward Haerin, flopping down beside her and resting your head against her lap. She stiffens at first, her hands hovering awkwardly over you before she hesitantly starts running her fingers through your hair. The fans don’t miss the way she tries to hide her smile, but the cameras catch it anyway.

📌 @haerinupdates

"SHE TRIED TO HIDE IT BUT WE SAW IT. WE ALL SAW IT."

💬 @idkiwannasleepsb

"DID YOU SEE THAT. DID YOU GUYS SEE HER SMILE!?"

🔁 @Y/nupdates

“Theyre not even trying to hide it atp. #YNsold”

🔁 @haerinwinning

"Y/N used to keep her distance from Haerin, now she’s acting like a lovesick puppy… what CHANGED???? 🤨"

📌 @ynhaerin_cult

"THEM. THAT’S IT. THAT’S THE TWEET. #YNSold #Theyremarriedsir"

💬 @minjynomg

"Miny/n shippers are in shambles rn"

Later that night, you scroll through the comments with a smug smile. Next to you, Haerin peeks at your phone screen, then flicks your forehead.

“Stop looking at those,” she mutters, trying to act indifferent.

You just grin, nudging her gently. “You like it, don’t lie.”

She huffs but doesn’t deny it. Instead, she shifts closer, intertwining her fingers with yours under the covers.

————

OG MY GODO I CANNOT WRITE PET NAMES WITHOUT CRINGING OFMG KILL ME NOW😭🙏

Taglist: haha I'm lazy

[sim0nril3y]

Oml I love your weighting style so much!!!!!

I have no idea if you’ve already done something’s like this but I think a cute little fluffy moment where reader is at the shop and one of Simon’s men run into her, they don’t know she’s daiting Simon and start flirting but soon realizes she’s Simon’s gf when he like calls or something!

Feel free not to do it but just putting it out there ❤️💗

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Note: This was such a fun request, thank you so much for requesting it! Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), canon-typical swearing.

Your eyes lingered on the wall of spices and ingredients before you. Now, what was it that Simon had said to get? Was it ground cardamom or cardamom pods? Bugger, why hadn’t you been listening? Maybe it was because you were thoroughly distracted because Simon had just gotten out of the shower, standing there in all his nude glory, water trickling down his big burlychest…

Concentrate.

Now, he had said… oh, which one was it? Think. Think… think about his strong chest and broad shoulders… his tummy and that wonderful happy trail… the way his hair was all ruffled and wet. Fuck, you were so damn lucky-

“Is there a reason that you’re looking at that spice rack like you’re about to tackle it to the ground?” A charming tone came from beside you, glancing over to see a young man standing with basket in hand, handsome smile on his face, eyes filled with humour. “Do you find spices that offensive?” He quizzed.

“What? Oh, no…” A laugh sprung from your lips then, shaking your head. This man was unreasonably pretty, tall and an intense but welcoming gaze. “No, no… I’m just trying to remember what I need…” Then your eyes wandered back to that wall of spices again.

The man hummed and then said. “Ah, so you didn’t write it down?” He quizzed, stepping forward to be beside you. “Now, that is a problem cause… I mean, there are quite a few aren’t there…” The heavy dose of sarcasm to his tone made a laugh spring from your lips. “Luckily for you I am an absolute genius when it comes to spices, so I can help you out.” The way he grinned was bordering on cocky.

“Oh, my hero~” You replied back resisting the urge to roll your eyes, but he simply chuckled and returned back. “Well, some people call me that, but you call me-”

A curt tone came from behind you. “Private Stone.” You saw the fear that shocked through him then, clearly recognising the sound of Simon’s voice with far less affection that you did. “Lt. Riley.” He hiccupped back, standing a little straighter, face far less charmingly smiley now.

Just as Simon moved to be standing by your side his arm wrapped around your waist and the message was very clear to the young man. “I’m surprise to see you swanning around off base when you have you re-test tomorrow morning. I would have thought passing that might be more crucial than chatting up birds at the supermarket.” He watched the way the Private shook his head all too quickly and held up a firm hand in his direction. “I don’t want to hear it. You better make yourself scarce.”

It was only a moment later that the Private went rushing off down the aisle away from the two of them and Simon chuckled to himself as he stepped forward to pick up the cardamom pops from the row of spices, glancing over his shoulder at you. “What?” “You had far too much fun with that.” You smirked back to him.

“Maybe.” Simon answered, stepping over to wrapped his strong arms around you, forcing his hand into the back of your jean pocket and squeezing in a tender way. “I know a way we can have more fun. C’mon, we should get home.”

Masterlist | Ask | 30-01-2025

[drownedthemall]

sweetness of her laughter

part 1 - predicament

next part

caracalla x noble!reader x geta 

a/n - fyi, i am not a writer, but i have been lovinggggg fics about these two, so i felt i needed to write something about them

this is only the introduction, so it's probably boring,,, but i hope you stick around for the next chapters <3

2.8k words

summary -  basically, your kingdom is getting ‘conquered’, well that’s what you assume, but in reality they’re there for someone else.

who may that be, and for what reason..?

The sun has barely risen. You stride through the outskirts of the forest with your stede. You immerse yourself in the scenery, noticing the early mornings dew upon the grass and leaves. A chill breeze blows past you. The royal huntsman accompanies you.

You've known him ever since you were a child. He had the King's trust and swore to him to keep you safe from any harm. If not for him, you wouldn’t be able to even hunt or even participate in hunting parties. You know, not a very ‘lady-like’ thing to do as the people remind you of your princess duties. Despite the annoyance of him always being by your side, you’re grateful for his presence. He’s taught you a lot. This pondering quickly gets cut short when you start hearing loud thumping in the distance.

It reminds you of some kind of stampede. Your head snaps toward the huntsman, both of your faces scrunched in confusion.

Your Kingdom isn’t big, not at all. Nor did it have a huge army of soldiers trained from the moment their born. But, your Kingdom is very respected amongst many nations and kingdoms alike. This is because it's known for extravagant celebrations and events, where people gather to escape their worries and seek rest. Due to this, many of the surrounding neighbours prefer to keep the peace alive, wanting to have at least one place of neutrality from all the hostility in the world. However, this fact isn't deterring enough for the Emperors. Why must they care?

The sound of the stampede only gets louder. You and the huntsman stand still, exchanging glances. You speak up, in a hushed tone, “You can’t be serious, do you really think they’d..?” you quiet.

The emperors as of recently have been conquering land all over. With Numidia being their most recent conquest. Who's to say the Kingdom you reside in isn't next? It basically there for the taking.

The man holds his breath, “I haven’t heard any news from the patrolling soldiers at the borders…", he states.

You stay silent, your mind mulling over all kinds of scenarios. None of them ending in a positive outcome.

The man guides his horse to your side, “Princess, please don’t panic, i'm sure this is nothing”, he comforts.

You glare at him, “I need to go back," you huff. You adjust the reigns in your hands, preparing yourself.

“Princess, please stop making this harder than it should be. The King will deal with it, I'm sure of it," he tries reasoning with you.

You ignore him, urging your horse to move forwards. Eventually changing the gait into a gallop. The sound of your own horse's hooves blends in with the rest. You’d thought the huntsman would follow suit, but as you look behind you, he’s gone. You're a bit saddened by this but you carry on.

Your horse strides along the field and edge of the forest, sometimes dipping into the tree-filled land to avoid being noticed. But then abruptly, the stampede stops. All the branches and leaves that are breaking are too loud to bear. ‘Why’d they stop?’, you think to yourself as your heart rate picks up, and cold sweat drips down your temples.

As you slow your pace, you start to strategically manoeuvre through the trees where the view of the palace can be seen. As the brush becomes clearer, you halt. About 500 soldiers stand guard in front of the palace. Technically, not enough men to take the whole entirety of the Kingdom down, but 500 men that are trained under the Roman Empire? Now, that could lead to a different outcome. General Acacius, by the looks of it, is nearing the palace with a smaller group of praetorians behind him. Your breath hitches, what were you to do? What can you do? All these thoughts rage through your mind, all of them barely making sense. With you barely breathing or thinking properly, you plan to enter the palace from a place where you know you won’t be seen. You know of an entrance that is used by servants. It's used by them so that they can tend to their responsibilities without being noticed by the nobles taking part in the celebrations. That is where you were headed towards.

---

The villages and houses scattered around are untouched by the foreign soldiers. The people are unnerved but are biting their tongues. None of the soldiers have stepped foot on their personal land, which sends a message that they’re here for something or someone else. Or that’s what they hope, the people want to avoid bloodshed and are fond of this new ‘diplomatic’ way of dealing with things. Unlike the Romans, they don’t relish in gladiator fights or such brutality.

The guards of the Kingdom surround the throne room, inside and out. The thumps of horses' hooves can be heard in the far distance. Which provides nothing but unease. The King pulls at his face, pacing all around the throne room. It’s all in disarray, with candle holders and tables toppled over.

All of the immediate royal family is gathered there. Your father, mother, and two sisters, except you. His wife tries to ease his nerves, “It’s going to be okay, I’m sure she’s safe”, she places a hand on his shoulder.

“Safe!? Who cares if she’s safe? The issue is that she’s not here." he shouts, "they’ll assume we’re hiding her!”, he snaps, slapping her hand away. She looks hurt by his words and stays silent.

“Why’s she matter anyway? She never partakes in any of these kind of things..?" the eldest daughter says before continuing, "What is the reason for them even coming here?”, asks Celsa. Celsa is the one to inherit the title of Queen. She embodies one. She was quite literally born to be one, destined, no one can deny that. Due to this... many, many suitors have tried to court and wed her. But to no avail.

He takes a breath… “I didn’t think they’d take such offence.” he states blankly. The sound of horses halts just as he says this.

“What?”, the two women say in unison, disbelief clouds their faces. The littlest daughter clings to her mother’s gown, seeking any semblance of comfort. She’s briefly ignored as her mother huffs, “What did you do.”, not asking but demanding an answer.

“What else was i supposed to do?? The two shitheads are looking for Empress’!! The fact they’re BOTH ruling is already unconventional and then they dare to state that ONE Empress would also suffice!”, he loses it, catching his breath, “They’re inviting all kinds of nobility to attend! I may not be perfect, but I'm not subjecting my daughters to such a cruel life to bear.”, he fumbles with his words, clearly regretting his decision as each one leaves his mouth. He pulls at his greying hair, hoping this ends smoothly.

“Why didnt you mention this to me..?” the Queen announces, “I should be aware of such drastic decisions.”

“Oh, stop it. You’re a woman, how many times do I have to tell you that you don’t belong meddling in politics”, he mutters, “You’re the reason she’s so defiant” he says referring to you. 

His wife was about to retort, but Celsa intervened, “You kept this from me?”, she pouts, “Do you know how many worthless princes have offered to be mine and THE Emperors of Rome are seeking out an Empress and you don’t even dare to ask of my opinion?” her voice becomes louder as her anger pools.

Silence fills the room. All four of them stand in different parts of the room. Tension thick in the air. A new set of footsteps can be heard just outside the palace walls. They all look between each other. The father makes eye contact with Celsa. She awaits for her answer.

---

You had found your way into the palace grounds, weaving through tight secret corridors and halls, trying to reach where your family may be residing in. You heard a ruckus coming from the throne room, that’s where you decided to head, with a place to hide in mind already. The throne room had a balcony-like structure, usually used to announce any important news to the King. You will seek closure there. As you get closer, you can barely make out any of the words being said in that room, with the sound of your heart draining out the voices. It feels like your heart will jump right out of your body.

You shuffle into the balcony, making yourself small, bow in hand. As you position yourself and get comfortable, all you hear from your father is, “The emperors didn’t request for your attendance, Celsa”, he states in a monotone voice, breaking eye contact with your eldest sister. Before you or Celsa could properly register the meaning of his sentence, guards push through the door, announcing the General's arrival. They all straighten out their posture and gather together as they await him to enter the room.

Heavy footsteps of the man can be heard as he nears the King. The King offers him a small smile as a form of greeting, “What brings you here, Acacius, especially at this time of day?” disregarding his title completely. The General takes note of this, “To take that of what your Kingdom owes the Emperors.” he stands with his arms locked in front of him. It's almost as if he's sizing up your father, preparing to eat him whole like a python.

You pull at your bow, the arrow already equipped. You try and keep your breathing steady, focusing on the task at hand.

Your father pulls a face of confusion, “What do you mean, General, I wasn’t aware that I owed them anything.” he states with furrowed brows, “May you remind me?”

As Acacius was about to respond, you took aim. However, you failed to notice the presence of a praetorian behind you. He grabs ahold of you by enveloping your neck in his arms. This forces you to lose aim, and you shoot elsewhere. Everyone's eyes followed the thump. Unfortunately, the curtain had become the victim of your weapon instead. Everyone's eyes shifted from the curtain to the source of who was responsible.

You struggle in his hold, the praetorian shouts “SHE WAS TRYING TO SHOOT YOU, GENERAL!”, trudging in his hold, you retort, “I WAS NOT, BLASPHEMY”. Your family stares at you with their mouths agape. You couldn’t have made the situation any worse.

Acacius is just as surprised, if not for the lack of better judgment, you'd even say he was amused. “Bring her down here” he commands. As the soldier does this Acacius turns to the nobles, “That is who you owe.”, he answers with a smug smirk present in his face.

The father loses all composure and retorts, “This whole ordeal was a request, not a demand, why come to such lengths for my daughter..?”, he huffs defeated. The General raises an eyebrow, “I’m sure you’re aware of how the Emperors are. They don’t take lightly to denial. It only does the opposite.” 

Your father denied their request for you to possibly be an Empress. What else could a woman want, right? Is what the Emperors thought, the fact they were denied what they deemed was a gift from the gods ticked the Emperors off, they wouldn’t have cared or paid much attention to you otherwise.

“You know, I was planning to come to some sort of agreement, but I truly cannot overlook what your lovely daughter has just done a moment ago.”, he states “One may call it an attack against the Roman Empire, don’t you think?”

The King looks shocked, “What!? I wouldn’t go that far, I truly had no idea she was planning on doing this. She was gone all morning - i promise, General. I wouldn’t dare do such a thing to you or the Roman Empire, may it never fall and continue to prosper, my daughter will be honoured to have the chance of serving them, yes, indeed, she will!!” he mutters on, barely comprehensible, clearly in a panic, wanting to keep his Kingdoms neutrality intact.

Acacius is entertained, he may have a dislike of bloodshed as of recently, but he really does enjoy instilling fear into good for nothing royals. If he can’t take it out on the Emperors, why not do it on the behalf of them? 

Soon, you are brought to stand beside General Acacius. The praetorian holds onto your forearms that are behind your back, trying to keep you still. Eventually, you decided to stop struggling, it wasn’t going to get you anywhere other than your own deathbed. The General's deep, smooth voice pulls your attention, “I hear you were gone all morning, where were you, Princess?” he asks while turning his attention to you.

You almost scoff, if your arms weren’t restrained you’d be using them to bring attention to what you’re wearing. You’re dressed in your hunting gear. It was still a dress, but it was made to be more convenient and comfortable. This was your mother’s decision, ‘if you’re going to do such manly things you mustn’t be confused for one!!’ her voice rings in your head as you’re reminded of the conversation.

“I was out hunting, or at least that was the plan”, you say the last part quieter. Acacius noticed the double meaning, seeing as you were literally aiming to shoot him as if he were your prey. He doesn’t mention it. However, his silence alludes to the thought.

You soon come to realise this, “Woah, not in that way, truly, General.” You state quickly, looking anywhere but his eyes.

He chuckles lightly, and his laugh seems to almost soothe you, “Well, I would suggest your daughter packs her belongings”, he says as he faces the father. Those words form a pit in your stomach as the reality of the situation sets in.

He nods and the mother quickly orders one of the servants to do so. The father then starts, “So, we’re all good, General?” he says hesitantly.

Acacius ponders, “..Well, a little compensation wouldn’t hurt, seeing as i was about to get-” he stops his sentence and points his head in the direction of the arrow.

The King nods an exceeding amount, “Yes, yes, of course, whatever you may ask for, you shall receive, General!”, he answers all jittery.

The general nods, satisfied with the outcome.

On the right side of the King, Celsa can be seen fidgeting with her dress. As they await for the servant, she shouts, “Take me instead!” Everyone stares at her outburst.

She continues “I’m the eldest! Soon to be Queen, I’m the most suited to be Empress, please let my sister be! She’s not fit to rule.”, she announces desperately.

You ignore her snide remark, and then you blink in confusion. What? This whole show of power was for marriage?? If you had known sooner, you really would've laughed. However, the escalation of the situation doesn't bring a smile to your face. Your father hushes her, embarrassed by her mumbling. A couple of servants come rushing in with your belongings ready. This is a sign that it’s time to leave.

Acacius decides to answer your sister first, “If you’re soon to rule, then who else will take your place? We cherish our relations with your beautiful Kindgdom, we wouldn’t want it to fall, and we have no desire to join the two.” He states clearly, offering a proper answer and a semblance of sympathy for her.

He lets the tension of the room remain by staying silent for a few seconds longer. He then bids the King and Queen farewell as he commands the praetorian to lead you outside. You're pushed through the halls of a place you once called home. You didn’t even get a chance to say your own goodbyes. All you were able to do was exchange painful glances.

___

They had a carriage ready for you. How did you not notice it earlier? The journey wasn’t very enjoyable. You felt alone and was anxious to know what awaited you. You were always accompanied by a soldier or sometimes even the General. You thought he was going to treat you harshly because of the attempted... Yeah. But, surprisingly, he was showing you compassion, making sure you were feeling alright. Which seemed nice at first, but then you came to the realisation that he was feeling sorry for you. ‘The emperors really are that bad, aren’t they?’, you thought. The sense of dread basically boiling over.

[elalfywhore]

could you write a paige x reader with the brother's best friend trope?

•you guys didn’t never not like each other, it was your typical older brothers best-friend thing.

•you guys shared awkward “hi”s whenever you ran into each other at the store. when she came over to hang out with your brother there was never more than 20 words exchanged between the two of you.

•you always found her attractive, she was tall, lean and had a pretty face but, you were sure she hadn’t felt the same way considering you were just her bestfriends little sister to her.

•you would hear your brother and her talk about whatever fling she had, you didn’t try and listen too hard but you couldn’t help yourself.

• “bro you don’t even understand the brain this girl gave me.” you could hear her smack her lips with a laugh, the provocative words dripping from her mouth. your parents were gone for the weekend, and your brother had invited paige over to watch the game. you could hear them talking from the kitchen as you made dinner. “might’ve been good but she’s still not a ten” your brother fired back, “whatever bro, i’m gonna go grab another beer. you want one?” you can’t hear your brother respond but you can imagine he nodded at the blondes words.

•paige could always make you nervous, she always had this effect on you to where no matter what was happening you always looked like a deer in headlights when you saw her.

• “smells good.” her voice is softer than normal as she walks towards the fridge. “ ‘s just spaghetti.” you whisper, barley able to make eye contact. “that’s my favorite, y’know?” she opens the fridge, pulling two beers out. “yeah, it’s good.” you try and concentrate on the pot of sauce in front of you but when she doesn’t leave and her stare is intense on you, you can’t help but slightly turn your head towards her. “do you need something, paige?” she steps closer to you, getting close enough that you can feel her breath on her ear as she steps behind you. “you’re a real pretty girl, know that?” your breath hitches, she uses one hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, resting her head on your shoulder for but a second to whisper in your ear, “i would give anything to fuck you.”

NSFW BELOW!!!

•that night kinda blurred. your brother had one too many beers and passed out on the couch, you were already up in your room. paige saw the opportunity and took it.

•the hard part for paige wasn’t convincing you to spread you legs and lay back for her, the hard part was getting you to be quiet.

• “shhh, don’t wanna wake him up.” paige whispered from between your thighs. your ass was pulled to the edge of the bed and she was on her knees on the floor. she had your legs pushed back as far as they could go, leaving your dripping, warm, wet pussy on display for her. “mm’ sorry, just feels s’ good.” you whine, slapping your hand over your mouth as she licks a stripe up your pussy. you watch as she spits on your pussy before sticking her tongue out, rubbing it up and down your pussy and shaking her head in it. “oh-oh my god baby, feels so good.” you whimper, “feel good, princess?” she teases, sticking two fingers in and taking your clit into her mouth.

•there was something fun about sneaking around with paige, she made it clear after that night it wasn’t a one time thing but she couldn’t risk your brother knowing yet.

•you guys sneak in little kisses and make out session whenever you can.

•if your brother gets up to go to the bathroom while you guys are watching tv, she’s defiling you for the few minutes he’s gone. shoving her tongue down your throat, her hand grazing your pussy under your pj shorts, the other hand groping your tit.

•the first time you ever fingered paige had been about 2 weeks since your guys’ first hookup and it happened on your couch while your brother was showering to get ready to go to some party with paige.

• “that’s it, pretty girl.” paige bites her lip, one of her hands buried in your hair, slightly pulling and the other hand teasing your nipple that was exposed from your tank top being pulled up. you moan at the sight, your middle and ring finger being swallowed by her, her jeans and boxers pulled down just enough for you to be able to do this. “you’re so hot.” you whimper, the sound of her wetness reacting to your fingers being drowned out by the tv. “you’re the hot one, baby.” she mumbles, pushing your head towards hers, putting her lips to yours. she moans into your mouth as your fingers speed up. “i’m gonna cum baby, keep going.” she bites her lip, your noses touching and eyes staring into eachothers. “cum for me baby, wanna taste you please.” you talk her through it. her body twitches as she bites back a moan and you feel a stickiness start dripping from her, a tall tale sign. you pull your fingers out, shoving them in your mouth making her throw her head back with a smile, biting her lip watching you.

• when she does go out with your brother, she’s texting you like the whole time, reassuring you she’s not talking to other girls.

•she’s super thoughtful, she always sends you cute texts, she holds doors open for you, buys you things even when she doesn’t have too.

•it felt like a dream being with paige, and you had never intended on your brother finding out. especially not so soon, knowing it could put an end to things with paige if he knew.

•paige was killing your shit from the back. when she texted you to come over you weren’t expecting her to have a plastic dick attached to her but it was a pleasant surprise. “that feel good, huh? little fucking slut.” she moaned at the sight of your plump ass clapping against her hips. “feels s’ good, fuck daddy don’t stop.” you feel yourself becoming more wet when she puts one of her legs up on the bed, foot planting on it. her grip tightens on your hips and she fucks into you, her stamina and athleticism showing. “you love. this. dick. huh baby, you love it pretty girl?” her thrusts match her words. “love this dick so much daddy, fuck me harder, please.” you moan, face shoved into the pillows, looking and sounding like something out of a porn. that was until the door opened.

•it was an embarrassing moment as much as it was quick. the door opened and closed in a flash. you and paige rushing to get ready. you weren’t sure what was worse, your brother seeing that for a split second or having to explain how your sexual relationship with his bestfriend started.

•it took him a while, like months to come to terms. once the secret was out paige and you made things official after some back and fourth, considering the circumstances. things got better after that, he accepted things for what they were as long as you guys promised to lock the door.