#i’m still learning and would definitely love to be corrected

[the-maid-of-witchwood]

Just Dance songs I think the drama kids would kill

Bear in mind, I haven’t really played Just Dance in years - we lost the disc while moving house, still have the case - so I just kinda looked up songs on YouTube or went off what I remember dancing along to.

Mainly for my very dear friend and mutual @onyx-plutos-moon. By all means please correct me or add to this, I crave your expertise! <3

Solos

Kevin: Bad Romance by Lady Gaga (extreme) as suggested by Onyx - rewatched it and he is absolutely right, this is the type of thing Kevin pulls out with some kinda “I’m a little rusty, I don’t think I remember this one” comment first and then flawlessly executes the entire thing - or Butter by BTS (extreme)

Caitlyn: Primadonna by Marina & the Diamonds or Applause by Lady Gaga (either normal or extreme) or Circus by Britney Spears (extreme)

Josie: Love You Like a Love Song by Selena Gomez or Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight) by ABBA

Trevor: Rasputin by Boney M or Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley - he’s not sorry

Duos

Kevin and Josie: You’re the One That I Want from Grease or Want to Want Me by Jason Derulo (couple version) - again suggested by Onyx, can’t imagine how Josie manages to twirl him because he’s almost 7’0 but good luck to her

Kevin and Caitlyn: Timber by Pitbull ft. Kesha or Worth It by Fifth Harmony (mashup) or Cake By the Ocean by DNCE (earphones version) - they definitely do this with actual earphones and get tangled up at some point

Kevin and Trevor: 24K Magic by Bruno Mars or Kung Fu Fighting by Carl Douglas

Josie and Caitlyn: SOS by ABBA or California Gurls by Katy Perry ft. Snoop Dogg

Josie and Trevor: September by Earth, Wind & Fire or Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell

Caitlyn and Trevor: Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Queen or C’mon by Kesha

Group

I couldn’t pick so have all the ones that came to mind:

Time Warp from Rocky Horror Picture Show

Mamma Mia by ABBA

This is Halloween from The Nightmare Before Christmas

Crucified by Army of Lovers

Random headcanons

If they finish rehearsals early, Miss Mulberry lets them put on YouTube videos of the dances

Trev once did Rasputin and caught the attention of Pete and Grace, as they help out with the show and were around. Needless to say, dancing was quickly replaced with a history lesson/why the song is inaccurate and why women in history deserve to have their stories told

They now refuse to play until everyone who isn’t them has left the building, so there can be no interruptions

They, and by they I mean Caitlyn, wouldn’t let Ruth play if lives depended on it

Miss Mulberry also once made the mistake in saying it could be a competition and the winner could have a piece of candy from her prize box

There was so many fights that day…

All of them had at least one game of Just Dance growing up, except Caitlyn - she only ever played it at school or at friends’ houses

Josie had Just Dance 4; Kevin has all of the main series; and Trevor has 2014, 2017 and 2020

Kev is insanely competitive and a sore winner/loser, meanwhile everyone else is just playing to have fun and dance

He’s also a huge show off

Kev and Cait have a favourite kind of song and it’s anything that flatters their egos

They’re very, very confident in themselves and we love to see that #self love

Rudolph is god awful at dancing, so he doesn’t join in but will happily support Trevor from the sidelines

Brooke, however, is an exceptional dancer but has never really played/learned the dances for the games

She eggs on Kevin’s competitive ass for fun and chaos

Josie literally only knows a handful of non-musical songs. 9.8 times out of 10 she is going into these completely blind and expecting herself to pick up the melody, the choreography and the lyrics first try

Trev loses at least one shoe every time they play. There’s one stuck in the catwalk above the school auditorium, they haven’t been able to get it down so it’s still there

Cait thinks the guide is just a suggestion

Half of her additional or replacement choreography is just hair work

Josie thinks she needs to fully preform every time. She’ll sing along, give herself a character, maybe some dialogue if there’s an instrumental part of the song

Has definitely fainted upon burning up so much energy subsequently

It’s to the point now that the others can almost spot when she’s about to go. Kev picks her up so fucking gently and sits her down

The others happily perform with her

Kev almost exclusively does all the expert dances when playing solo

Josie’s siblings had Just Dance when she was younger, but she rarely got to play. Too busy having to care for them and the house. (And when she did, she never got a controller, so has no idea how good or bad she is). The songs on there are all really nostalgic and great tunes in general but can also be traumatic and tinged with bitterness

Josie’s just there sobbing while Call You Maybe plays

Trev only started doing Never Gonna Give You Up to rickroll the others but actually fell in love with the dance and is genuinely just wanting to play it all the time

Regular fights about what colour controller everyone is

Yes, they are that family

“We are that family in the neighbourhood that like, you wanna keep a wide berth when you walk past. Like, that’s this whole crew!”

“We’re the family, where if you’re in a car and they’re playing in the street, you speed up.”

— Courtney and Tommy in Smosh Plays Athletic Summer Games During Summer, 27:17

[signanothername]

saw this, and the text about error made me think- if nightmare insulted error in spanish, he would know from all his hours watching undernovela. maybe he wouldnt be able to translate it, but he'd definitely have picked up on some fighting words.

if he HAS actually learned some though, he could pull the power move at throwing spanish insults back at him. if he can pull nightmares mom into it too, we're getting into a fistfight for sure lol

Wheeze omg

I actually really love the idea of Error knowing a lil bit of Spanish, he kinda picked up on some phrases and words but isn’t fluent in it

Nightmare is definitely fluent on the other hand (his native language), and I can see him getting so frustrated he just switches to Spanish, Error would definitely pick up on insults if they do happen and he definitely wouldn’t shy away from insulting back

The image of Error pulling Nightmare’s mom into it is hilarious and very much possible fhhchchchf

Translation:

Nm: I can’t stand you. You’re very childish, you have to grow up.

Error: says the mama’s boy.

[kikiwie]

𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 ˚ ᰔ. ᵎᵎ

————————— 𐔌⋆🍊 ̟ ˚ !! 𐦯 —————————

first kisses with the haikyuu boys!

i. hajime ⊹₊⟡

since high school, you've known iwaizumi, and let's just say that you've always had feelings for him. you didn’t have the confidence to tell him, so you resorted to maintain your friendship with him.

ever since he began working as an athletic trainer, you would visit, and even though you weren't very good at volleyball, you still found it fun. mostly because it was with him.

he had just finished showing you how to hit a jump serve. when you last visited, you were taught how to do a standard serve. but you decided to improve.

he gave you instructions and occasionally corrected your form. "alright, so you keep tossing the ball too far away. try doing it this way." that was most likely the fifth time he had said that to you. but when his presence was too distracting, could he truly blame you? absolutely not.

you inhaled deeply and did your best to mimic everything he had shown you so far.

you had your eyes closed when you threw the ball up, then leaped and hit it. your breath got caught in your throat when you heard the ball bouncing on the other side.

you lips dropped open as you opened your eyes, and Iwaizumi gave you the same look. you rushed to him and into his arms as his eyes sparkled. “did you see that, iwa? i was really awesome, wasn't i? i’m surprised that i did it!”

he couldn't help but smile and gaze at you in admiration during your short rant. the way he was staring at you as you finished made you feel like you were going to die.

"hey, you're adorable. can i give you a kiss?" now, who were you to say no?

y. tadashi ⊹₊⟡

he asked you to spend the day with him. after getting some food from the nearby convenience store, you found yourself in the park. laughing and talking about how life has been overall.

this felt good since you haven't seen him in a long time and your college classes have been eating up all of your time. "you have to be joking! he didn't really tell him that, did he???” he was rambling on about an incident involving tsuki when he got into a fight with this random guy.

"oh, he most definitely did. we all knew he was an instigator, but that was crazy," said yams, laughing with you.

“i wish i could have been there, aw man." you let out a sigh and stopped laughing. it was bittersweet now. in high school, you would see them every day, but these days, you rarely ever see him, tsuki or yachi. you really missed them.

"you know that without you, school isn't the same." you couldn't really see his face because he was staring up at the sky, but you would think he was wearing a sad expression.

he stared down at you as you lay your head against his shoulder, and his heart began to race. his feelings for you were probably well known to everyone but you. although it might have been better that way.

"i also really miss you, yams."

before you broke the quiet, the both of you simply gazed at each other for a minute without saying anything. "maybe not just as a friend."

his face heat up and he thought he was dreaming. but you were there and you were real. the way you were both leaning in at the same time made it very clear that it was a mutual feeling.

s. eita ⊹₊⟡

he wanted to show you some new songs he's been working on for his band, which is why you came over to his house. he mentioned his appreciation for your feedback and asked how you felt about the song's progress or lyrics.

of course, you enjoyed hanging out with your best friend as well as listening to his music and learning about his recent activities. you were loving it so far when he played you the tune and a few of the lyrics to give you a sense of how it would go.

“was the song written by you? i like the lyrics.” he appeared anxious all of a sudden when you gazed up at him. "yes, I did. i’m glad you like them.”

"looks like you're going through it with this mystery person," you said with laughter. since you didn't see eita as often as you would have liked, you couldn't hold it against him that you didn't know he liked someone.

it may be because you’ve been his best friend, or it may have been the ache in your heart you’ve been trying to ignore since your high school days together, but the idea of you not knowing made you sad.

“yeah tell me about it," he scoffs, "she's kind of dumb and hasn't taken any hints." by then, you were so focused on the lined paper holding his lyrics that you were oblivious to the way he was staring at you.

he took the paper out of your hands and sat down next to you. "are you wondering who the song is about?" you just gave him a nod, and he gave you a look. "it’s about you, idiot."

“well i have another dumb question for you. can you kiss me?" you looked at him with a smile. he leaned down to get closer, whispering, “i thought you’d never ask."

h. shoyo ⊹₊⟡

in an effort to keep from crying, you mostly kept silent while you helped him pack to leave for brazil. it would be strange to not have him around, even though you knew he would return.

his heart clenched when you placed his belongings in the suit case in such a delicate and nice manner. the reality of not seeing each other for an unknown amount of time would sink in if he said something now. he was going to miss you so much.

sho felt especially bad since he loved you so much and was unsure of how he would manage without you. especially with how much you care about him.

there was nice conversation and nostalgic music playing during the drive to the airport. anxiety began to grip you both as soon as you got to the airport. despite his insistence that it was fine, you helped him in carrying his baggage.

you kind of thought that the line would be longer so you could spend more time together, but it wasn’t so you accepted it to avoid being a party pooper.

the difficult part, saying goodbye, came next. he turned to face you, and his eyes were filled with sadness. it was heartbreaking to see the joyful and vibrant person you knew leave.

as you both gave each other a hug, he gave you a back rub. "i’m going to miss you, so you better return a pro." you heard him laugh, and it was enough to make you feel a bit better. "don’t worry, i will. i’ll miss you too. i promise to text you, okay?”

his eyes traveled over your face as he drew back to gaze at you, but you could see that they were continuously looking down at your lips. you smiled, and he leaned to kiss you as if he could read your thoughts.

although it was new, you were aware that it was an unspoken promise that you would both wait for one another.

————————— 𐔌⋆🍊 ̟ ˚ !! 𐦯 —————————

[not-neverland06]

𝙴𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝙻𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚍

Pairing ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

A/N: Ah, we've finally arrived. The last stop on this journey. I honestly thought I would feel more relieved saying goodbye to these two but it's a little bittersweet. Arthur is such an important character to me and one I've always held close to my heart. Being able to write this series for him is definitely one of my prouder moments as a fanfiction author. Thank you all for staying along for the ride and all of the love and support you've given me 🫶

Hell Hath No Fury Series (complete)

Summary: The past is behind you, all you have to do now is choose which path you'll follow.

The door before you is covered in a fresh coat of paint. An attempt at erasing the past that almost makes you laugh. There’s no amount of polish that can scrub away the memories and lives embedded in its frame. This estate, once pristine, holds no warmth for you, only the echoes of a childhood so distant you struggle to remember it. 

Still, you know there were moments, brief fleeting moments of happiness before you knew better. Before you understood that love only had a place when it was currency, when it was useful, before you learned that you were just another debt to be collected. 

The door creaks open, and a pair of green eyes scrutinizes you from within. “Mrs. Rowe?” The maid’s timid voice asks hesitantly. 

You don’t know her name, after a while, they all blurred together. Each of them became the same spineless, faceless shadows that bent to your mother’s every whim. You consider correcting her, telling her to call you by your maiden name, but the thought goes sour in your mouth. That name was your father’s, and he had owned you just as much as your husband. 

“Please,” you lift your chin, eyes narrowing at her, “I’m not Mrs. Rowe any longer,” you tell her curtly. 

The maid frowns and the door opens a tad wider. Her nose wrinkles in distaste, but she says nothing, not bold enough to speak out against you. Instead, she bows her head and steps aside, holding the door open to you. 

The scent of overpriced cigars and aged whiskey is thick in the air. Breathing in is like being thrown right back to days of racing through these halls, avoiding your mother’s scoldings and your father’s plotting. You almost feel the twitch of a smile as you peer up the banister of the stairs, where you know your old room is. 

The house remains unchanged, the same ornate rugs swallow your footsteps as you follow the maid down the hall. Chandeliers drip with excess in a way that you always thought was gaudy but your mother claimed show class. 

The maid stops in front of a familiar oak door, bowing her head once more before rushing off like a frightened mouse. Behind it, he’s waiting for you. 

You push the knob down and step inside, your father sits at his desk, posture relaxed as if he were expecting you. A half-empty glass of bourbon rests in his hand, swirling it lazily as he watches you approach. You notice grays in his hair that you’d never seen before, signs of age, and the truth that even money can’t stop the relentless passage of time. 

The lines around his face are deeper than you remember, but his eyes, still sharp and calculating, assessing you for your worth, haven’t changed at all. 

“When I received word from my daughter after nearly a year of believing her to be dead, I certainly hadn’t thought you would have become an outlaw.” You don’t take a seat and don’t say a word. Standing a few feet back from his desk, you keep your face carefully blank. “Van der Linde gang, wasn’t it?”

You don’t bite and ask how he knows, demand for him to tell you how he’s keeping track of you. It’s better to know less about your father’s reach and influence. Besides, little tricks like this haven’t scared you since you were a child. 

He waits for you to speak, huffing out a forced laugh when you don’t. “Finally returned back to me. I can only assume you want something.” He sets his glass down on his desk and leans back in his ornate leather chair. “I presume it has something to do with that outlaw lover of yours?”

Hands clenching reflexively around your purse and the revolver inside, your jaw clenches, the first tell you’ve given him. His lips curl, something cruel dancing behind his eyes. “If you hadn’t already been tainted by that useless husband of yours, I might just keep you here. Sell you to the next highest bidder.”

You don’t flinch and give him the satisfaction of a reaction. But you know he means every word. If you actually still held value or standing in society, he wouldn’t hesitate to put you back under lock and key, using any means necessary to cage you. 

“You can try,” you say smoothly, tilting your head ever so slightly. “But that worthless husband you picked out for me has left me as quite the undesirable.”

Something flickers across his face, amusement, maybe even appreciation for the bite in your tone. That’s the game he plays. He has no tolerance for disobedience and no respect for someone who doesn’t fight back. Perpetually dissatisfied. 

He leans back in his chair, eyes flicking over you. “What do you want, little bird?”

You take your time answering, stepping closer to the desk, glancing over the neatly stacked ledgers and letters. An old pen rests beside his arm, but he doesn’t seem to notice the black ink staining his shirt sleeve. 

“I want Arthur Morgan and the others who escaped with him left alone,” you say, voice even. “The Pinkertons, Cornwall. Every last hunter that’s sniffing after them. I want them called off.”

He raises a brow, lips curling slightly at the corners. “What makes you think I have that sort of influence?”

Your lashes flutter innocently and a demure smile flits across your face. “I know about the deal you made last spring,” you tell him, watching as his face tightens with recognition. “The one that ended with all of those men floating face down in the bayou. You’re the one who taught me to be seen and not heard, father. I just learned to listen.” You let the weight of your words sink in, watching as something like a warning crosses his face. You lean against the edge of the desk, voice dropping to a whisper, “You’ll find the power, and you’ll get me what I want.”

A slow smirk tugs at his lips and you draw back. “I always knew you were observant, listening in when I should have stopped you. Call it fatherly indulgence, but I didn’t think it would turn you into someone so conniving. I could almost say I’m proud if you weren’t such a disgrace to the family.”

Fists clenching by your side, you bite your lip and keep yourself quiet. It’s a waiting game, drawing the prey in to get what you want. 

He drums his fingers against the wood, considering. Then, finally, he sighs, reaching for his bourbon. “Fine. The Pinkertons and Cornwall will lose interest in what's left of your little gang.” He takes a sip, watching you over the rim of his glass. “But Dutch Van der Linde? The ones who followed him? I’m not lifting a finger for them.”

“Good, I wasn’t asking you to.”

That earns you a short, sharp laugh. “Cutthroat, I suppose becoming an outlaw finally gave you a spine. If only you discovered it sooner, it would have been much more entertaining to break you as a child.” 

You swallow hard, taking another step back from him before you feel the urge to put a bullet between his eyes. “What else?” He presses, setting his drink down. “I assume you didn’t come all this way just for that.”

“I need a few high-profile bounty hunting jobs- on paper.”

He arches a brow, “For Morgan?”

You shrug, not willing to give away more than you have to. “For a friend.”

Understanding dawns over his face, followed quickly by an all too familiar smirk. “The sheriffs won’t let a woman collect their bounties, is that it?” You don’t dignify him with a response and he hums, tapping his fingers against the desk as he thinks. “Done.”

Relief unfurls in your chest but you don’t give it away. Nodding, you turn away, but his voice stops you at the door. “You’re a fool for choosing this life,” he tells you, tone light but laced with something darker. “You could have had everything.”

You look over your shoulder, barely meeting his eye. “We have different definitions of what that means,” you tell him simply, “I’d rather be free than a miserable miser like you.” His jaw snaps shut, eyes going cold, and you walk out the door, leaving him behind. 

Arthur leaves Diablo to roam in the valley beside the cabin. When he’d gotten up this morning you were already gone, Lady nowhere to be found. He tried not to worry, he knows by now you’re smart enough to handle yourself. But there’s a lot of people who want to hurt you both right now. Not just the bounty hunters and the Pinkertons, but this land is infested with the Murfree brood. 

Coming back from his hunt now, he can already see Lady trotting up to Diablo, and there on the porch, you sit. Your back is to him as he approaches, fingers tight around a letter in your hand. He vaguely recognizes the handwriting, but not enough to identify the author. 

“Hey,” he mutters, taking a seat on the stoop beside you. You glance up at him, folding the letter away and smiling. “What’s that?” He asks, nodding toward the papers now tucked away. 

Your smile shifts into something a little sadder and you glance out toward the water. “Charles finally wrote me back,” there’s a tone to your voice he can’t recognize, it’s bittersweet. “I think it might be the last letter I receive from him. He has plans to move to Canada. To start,” you hesitate before smiling fondly, “he’s going to start a family.”

Sucking in a deep breath you shrug and look toward him. “How was your ride?”

“Fine,” he dismisses quickly. “Where’d you go this mornin’?”

Your face morphs into something careful, guarded. “I had some business in the city,” he knows you don’t want him to press you further. It’s clear that whatever you were dealing with was something personal. As much as he worries about you, he won’t press, even if the curiosity is gnawing at him.

“You know it’s risky to go out on your own right now.”

You smile, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, “Trust me, I won’t be taking any more risks.” 

The room is quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of your breathing beside him. Arthur lays on his back, eyes glued to the ceiling as his fingers drum a restless beat against his stomach. Moonlight spills through the window, illuminating the cabin with a soft silver glow. 

Sleep has been harder and harder to find. It’s never come easy before, but he’d hoped it might be different now. He’s spent too many years with one eye open, waiting for a knife in the dark or gunfire to crack through the night. Even now, with no enemies nearby, no barking orders, and no campfire flickering just out of reach, his body refuses to believe he’s safe. 

He supposes he isn’t. The Pinkertons will still be after him, he figures he’s probably got a hefty bounty on his head. Large enough for the more reckless hunters to go after him. Sometimes he thinks Dutch might even be out there, seething over Arthur’s betrayal, waiting to find him again. 

Arthur sits up in bed, scrubbing a hand down his tired face. He reaches for the sketchbook resting on the nightstand beside him and flips it open. A piece of charcoal is already wedged between the worn pages and falls into his open palm as he settles against the headboard. Idly, he lets his hand start drawing a far too familiar form. 

The curve of your jaw, the way your hair spills across your pillow, he barely has to look at you to draw it now. Still, he finds his eyes drawn toward your sleeping form, taking in the peaceful rise and fall of your chest. You shift, mumbling something incoherent, and sling your arm over his waist. 

Arthur huffs out a quiet laugh, the warmth of your touch grounding in a way. He runs his hand along your arm, lacing your fingers together as you shift even closer to him. There’s not long to savor the moment before a loud whooping laugh shatters the silence outside. 

His hand stills its idle sketching, body going rigid like a hunting dog who’s found his mark. He sits up straighter, ears straining to hear the night outside the cabin walls. The grating laughter moves closer, faster, and louder than he’s comfortable with. 

He hears the distant sound of a bottle shattering and a sharp crack echoing through the night. Arthur swings his legs over the side of the bed, muscles tense, and catches the flickering glow of fire through the window. It almost sounds as if the horses are screaming in their pen. 

He’s on his feet in an instant, rushing to the door and grabbing the rifle resting along the wall. You shoot up in bed, blinking the sleep out of your eyes, and watch him throw the door open. “Arthur?” You call out, voice thick with sleep but growing more alert. 

“Stay low,” he warns you briefly, already moving through the door. 

Heat licks at his skin as he steps outside. Wildflowers near the fence are ablaze, the flames stretching dangerously close to the horses’ pen. Lady and Diablo run around wildly, bucking at nothing as the fire stretches closer. 

A group of men holler in the distance, growing closer as they circle around the property like wolves. Arthur sucks in a sharp breath, aiming the rifle at the closest one. Murfree boys, he should have known. 

“Should’ve never come on our land!” One of them shouts, lifting another fire bottle, his match dangerously close to the fabric inside. Arthur doesn’t hesitate as he pulls the trigger, the boy and the bottle falling harmlessly to the ground as he slides off his saddle. 

You rush past him, paying no heed to the men with their guns pointed at you. He tries to snatch your arm, but you’ve got a bucket of water in your hands and you’re trying to put the fire out. He sees the way you glance worriedly toward Lady as the flames consume more of the dry grass around you. 

There’s a moment of stillness, the men stop moving and simply stare at Arthur. “He killed Mitch!” One of them shouts, the rest shouting something incomprehensible in rage. Gunfire erupts and Arthur curses, grabbing you and ducking behind the wall of the cabin. Arthur peers around the side and takes another shot before he ducks back into cover, reloading the rifle. 

There aren’t many of them, and they aren’t good shots. But he’s worried about the fire, not the fools shooting at him. The fight doesn’t last long, a few more well-placed bullets and the last of the Murfree boys fall. The only sounds left are the frantic whinnies of the horses and the sound of water sizzling against flames. 

He grabs another bucket and dips it into the lake, stomping out dying embers and putting to rest the remaining fire. When it’s finally out, you slump against him, chest heaving. His heart is still pounding in his ears, adrenaline thrumming in his veins. 

“They’ll come back,” you mutter against his chest, voice quiet but sure. 

Arthur swallows, watching the darkened tree line. They’re not known for letting go of grudges or forgiving the killing of one of their own. “I know,” he tells you, arm wrapping around you and pulling you close. His mind is already made up, he’s taking you somewhere else. And soon. 

The wagon rocks slightly to the side as Arthur directs the horses over a small rock and you reach eagerly for the reigns. “Let me drive,” you demand, the same way he’s been listening to you do the whole ride. 

Arthur snorts, shaking his head and tightening his grip. “Not a chance.”

You lean back on the bench, crossing your arms with a slightly amused tilt to your lips. “Oh, come on,” you admonish, “you act like I’m a bad driver.”

He gives you a flat look, thinking back to the cougar that nearly had you running the wagon off the side of a mountain. “You are a bad driver.”

“Yeah?” You taunt, something challenging in the way you narrow your eyes at him. “Who was it that broke the wheel clean off the last wagon?”

Arthur refuses to make eye contact with you, steering the horses around a rut in the dirt path. He shrugs, “That was different.”

You scoff incredulously, shoving at his shoulder. “How?”  

Arthur shrugs, “That was Dutch’s wagon.”

You bark out a laugh, shaking your head and leaning against his shoulder. “So? That makes it a bad wagon?”

“I ain’t sayin’ it makes it bad, I’m just sayin’ it don’t count.” You roll your eyes but he sees the fondness in your expression as you sit back. He knows you’re letting him win, you could argue with him for hours, running circles around him. Even though you are a bad driver. 

The thick line of trees lining the road slowly thins and opens up. A field of purple wildflowers stretching toward the horizon lay before you. A small stream glimmers under the light of the late afternoon sun and winds its way through. In the distance, at the end of the small trail, he can see John, Abigail, and Jack waiting for the both of you. 

Arthur makes his way up the rest of the off-road trail, nose already wrinkling in distaste at the spot John has chosen for him. He pulls the wagon to a stop and rounds the side, offering you his hand. You roll your eyes at the gesture, smiling playfully and letting him help you down even though you both know it’s unnecessary. 

Arthur adjusts his hat, leveling John with a skeptical look. “You sure this is gonna work?”

John exhales sharply, leveling Arthur with a flat look. He steps forward, holding out Arthur’s cut from what he stole from Dutch. “Why’re you always doubtin’ me?”

Arthur takes the money and crosses his arms, shrugging, “‘Cause most of the time, you’re doin’ somethin’ worth doubtin’.” Abigail makes a noise of agreement, cutting John a sharp glare. You shift uncomfortably beside him and he lets out a sigh. 

He’s never more grateful for you than when he watches John and Abigail interact. That woman wouldn’t be happy with him if he did do everything she asked him to, although he most definitely does not. She’s never going to trust that he can fully integrate into a normal life or make something of himself. Having someone behind you, always doubting you, always judging you, it would drive Arthur insane. 

As much as you’ve gotten angry with him over the stupid choices he makes, you’ve always trusted him. He’s given you plenty of reason to doubt him, and still, you stand beside him. Even when he told you he had some half-baked plan to start a ranch on some cheap land Marston found for him, you followed him. And you trusted him when he told you he could take care of you. There’s no constant scrutinization of the man he used to be. 

He lets Abigail and John bicker, looping his arm over your shoulder and leading you around them so you can get a good look at the land you’re about to be living on. You squeeze his hand, smiling up at him, and Arthur feels some of the weight on his shoulders ease. 

The fire crackles softly outside the tent, casting a flickering light against the canvas walls. This tent is bigger than the one he’d had in camp, more spacious, and with wooden poles to hold it up. It has to be better until the actual house can be built, it’s what you’ll be living in for a long while. 

You sit beside him on the cot, sewing up a hole in one of your pants while he looks through the plans for the house. The scent of lavender and honeysuckle drifts through the open flap along with the sound of the creatures in the forest beyond. 

“I went to St. Denis,” you tell him, and somehow, he knows you mean the morning you disappeared. 

Arthur’s expression pinches, he looks up from the paper, taking in the way your face is illuminated by the dim light. “Why?” He demands, frustration creeping around the edges of his tone. It’s one thing to have gone out on your own, it’s even worse that you went to a place swarming with Pinkertons and cops. 

 “I went to see my father,” you tell him, voice calm despite his tension. You place your sewing to the side and shift closer to him. “The Pinkertons, the bounty hunters,” you pause, eyes roaming over his face to gauge his reaction. “They’ll be leaving us alone now, all of them.”

Arthur rubs a hand down his face, biting back the urge to say something smart. It’s not as simple as that. Whatever you’ve done, whatever favor you’ve called on, men like your father don’t just let things go. He feels like he should be angry. Hell, a part of him is mad that you put yourself at risk. 

But he sees the quiet determination on your face. You reached into your past, took the pieces that could be used against you, and turned it into something that could finally give you both a true clean slate. Arthur exhales, shaking his head. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips and he reaches forward, tugging you closer to him. “A whole new life, huh?”

You smile at him, leaning in until your lips are nearly brushing against his. “Yeah,” you whisper, “A whole new life.” Arthur leans forward, lips catching yours as he tugs you onto his lap. Maybe you acted a bit like a fool, but he can’t blame you. He would have done the same thing if it meant another chance with you. 

A few years later

The morning air is crisp, as always it carries with it the distant scent of the animals around the ranch, and poppies and lilies. Boots creak softly against the wooden planks of the porch as you step outside, pausing for a moment to take in the sight before you. 

Arthur sits in his rocking chair, the slow, steady rhythm of its movements in time with his easy breaths. His gaze remains fixed on the pasture, watching as the horses move lazily through the field, the cattle grazing beyond them. The sun is already high in the sky, warming the porch under your feet. Its golden light spills across the land, lighting up the stream beyond. Every morning, he watches it rise. 

You move toward your chair beside him, settling into the familiar seat. He doesn’t look away from the horizon, but his hand finds yours, calloused fingers warm against your skin. His thumb drags slow circles over the back of your hand, a quiet steady reassurance. 

Neither of you speak as there’s nothing to be said. No threats hang over your heads. No weight presses against your shoulders. 

There is only this. The soft rustle of the grass in the breeze, the warmth of the sun on your skin, the gentle creaking of the rocking chair. And the two of you, the outlaw and the lady. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Red Dead Redemption 1/2, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Hell Hath No Fury Taglist: @buckysblondie @littlebirdgot @heloixe @summerdazed @committingcrimes-2047

@m1stea @pokiona @fleouris @soupvender00 @warmsideofthepillow03

@whimsiwitchy @cloudywithachanceofcrisis @martinys-world

[stariyu]

Sanji Headcanons ❀༉‧₊    ──★ ˙ ̟

⤷ General Relationship Head-canons - 

a/n: So I tweaked this a little bit because I was so so exhausted when I first wrote + posted this at 12am and then I woke up this morning and decided to look at the post and was like why would I post this omg… I went the whole day regretting it so I fixed it a little because I couldn’t stop myself from not doing it, but anyways, once again enjoy!

—-------

⤷ LOTS of endearing pet names, I swear he’ll call you every single pet name there is to exist. His main pet names for you are baby, sweetheart, mon amour, mon ange, mon coeur, my dear, darling, honey -  this list could on for forever honestly - 

⤷ I also feel like he might come up with nicknames on the spot for you depending on the situation - like I could totally see you helping him in the kitchen chopping cabbage (for this specific example) and him gushing calling you chou (cabbage in french if I’m correct). 

⤷ I’ve seen some headcanons calling Sanji disloyal or saying he would cheat on his partner, and let me say this loud and clear, my chivalrous prince charming black leg Sanji? HE. WOULD. NEVER. (it blows my mind people actually believe this) 

⤷ While in a relationship with you Sanji would still be a gentleman to Nami and Robin as to be expected, but he would definitely tone the flirting down now that he has you, his love and joy. 

⤷ He doesn’t want to mess up what you have after the mistreatment he went through during his childhood, you make him feel like he’s on cloud 9 and all of his worries melt when he is with you, losing you is honestly a great fear of his. 

⤷ Trust me when I tell you that you’ll. be. spoiled. rotten. If Sanji is willing to spend millions of berries to buy the Thousand-Year paper for Nami in the Post-Alabasta Arc, just imagine what lengths he would go for you. This man will seriously go into debt just to see your stunning smile and a kiss to his cheek as a thank you. 

⤷ He would smother you in so many fancy gifts. If he was dead broke at the moment, that wouldn’t stop Sanji from still spoiling you - heartfelt letters which he claims his love for you (seriously he puts his soul into them) flowers hand-picked, he would even attempt a handmade gift like a painting or a scrapbook - all for you. 

⤷ His love language(s) are acts of service and quality time. This man would be learning and cooking your favorite meals all the time even if you didn’t request them, Sanji would then get pissed that Luffy had eaten it all before you got to have some (this happens A LOT btw.)

 ⤷ Sanji would also love to do little things for you to make your day easier, he’ll make you breakfast in bed, do your chores for you, carry the stuff you bought on a new island, anything for his darling love.

⤷ For quality time, it could be you just hanging in the kitchen with him while he’s cooking chatting his ear off, having romantic dates, or just simply staring into each other's eyes in silence after a particularly long day - Sanji doesn’t care - as long as he basks in your presence, his day is so much better.

⤷ Dates with Sanji would meticulously be planned out with great love. I honestly feel like he would prefer to cook you homemade meals rather than go out to a restaurant. (ironic i know) Sanji pours his heart and soul into his cooking and he likes to know that your dishes are made with great care. Picnics with him would be the absolute best. I just know it. 

⤷ I also see him planning very intimate dates with you, like going dancing, a candlelit homemade dinner, cuddling in the crows nest on the ship stargazing. 

⤷ Even though he plans his dates with care and wants them to go perfectly, he loves it when you drag him off the ship to see something interesting on the island and it turns into a spontaneous date, it allows him to relax a bit and of course do his favorite thing, spend time with you ;)

[reverie-starlight]

{beautiful liar- m. atsumu}

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. highly suggestive at the end <3

it’s my birthday month, would you expect anyone other than atsumu to be the main focus?

atsumu thinks you’re beautiful when you lie to him.

the subtle strain of your facial features as you try to keep your expression neutral makes his heart beat faster in his chest.

he can’t help but feel fondness for you, even as you stand before him with the blood still on your hands. even after you’ve hurt him beyond repair, he can’t help but admire your quirks and tells and how hard you fight to keep his trust.

he places his hands on the countertop and lets the coolness of the marble bring him back to reality.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” he tries again, silently pleading with you to have mercy on him and finally cut him down from your web of lies.

“baby, do you know where my gym bag is or not?”

he watches as your expression cracks just a bit. you’re trying so hard not to break as you shake your head.

he thinks you’re absolutely stunning when you tilt your head down to hide the smile that finally cuts through.

“angel…” he warns, like he’s trying to keep a child from doing something they shouldn’t be. “look at me, please.”

he can’t help but laugh a little when your eyes meet his again and he sees that you’re tearing up from the effort.

it’s a known fact that you’re not a good liar unless the situation is… dire. you wear your heart on your sleeve, and that’s an admirable quality. atsumu has the same one, and he’s learned to like it on himself a bit more since loving it on you.

but he still grew up a twin, and even if he can’t hide his stronger emotions, he is most definitely a better liar than you.

(something he never lets you forget when he exploits your horrible poker face. like right now.)

“yes, ‘tsum?”

he shakes his head and smiles. “don’t ‘‘tsum’ me. I know ya hid my bag. don’t even try to lie to me, ya literally can’t.”

you finally let out a laugh of your own and he wonders if there are stars in his eyes making you shine this way, or if you’re just like that.

the butterflies in his stomach start fluttering again when you get up from the bar stool and walk to his side of the kitchen island.

you wrap your arms around his neck and he doesn’t think twice before letting his hands settle on your hips.

“I guess I can tell you where your bag is for a small fee.”

he raises an eyebrow. “oh can ya? how generous.”

you blow some air in his eye at his remark. “the fee is a kiss.”

“hmm, I don’t know if you deserve one after lying to me for a full ten minutes. well-“ he stops to correct himself. “attempting to lie to me.”

you gasp, but he knows you’re still being playful. “excuse me? never mind, I take it back, you’re not getting that bag today.”

“sweetheart~” he holds you tighter against him when you start to pull away and starts peppering kisses against your cheek.

“don’t you start sweet talking me, miya. it won’t work.”

he sighs and throws his head back. he’s not truly annoyed- he makes that clear with the easy, lovesick expression on his face- but he at least wants to know why you’re trying so hard to keep him home.

“baby. what’s going on with ya? is everything okay?”

you nod a little and he hates that his words cause you to frown. if his hands weren’t so comfortable on your hips, he’d bring one up to smooth out your forehead. “yeah… I’m sorry I’m making you late, I just miss you.”

his eyes widen. the new season has just started, so he’s been trying to get back into the swing of things. he loves going to practice, and he loves the new beginnings every start of the season brings, really he does.

but he hates the transition period between spending most of his time with you to having to find a healthy balance again.

of course you always reassure him that you understand it takes a minute to adjust, but that doesn’t mean he feels good about the unintentional neglect that can come from it.

he rubs his nose against your cheek. “baby, I’m sorry,” he starts. “ya know I don’t like being away for too long.”

your bottom lip juts out the tiniest bit and he leans in to kiss it. “I know… and I also know it’s selfish to keep you here because I’m feeling lonely… guess I’ve just been a little needier than usual lately.”

he thinks back to how you’ve practically been hanging off of him this whole week. he was a little confused by it, sure, but more so he’s been eating up all the attention and indulging you as much as possible.

taking in a deep breath, he makes a split second decision that will definitely have consequences later- good or bad, he won’t know until they come to pass.

but he knows whatever the outcome, it’ll be more than worth it just because he gets to see you smile now while carrying you to the sofa.

“atsumu! what are you doing?!“

“screw the gym bag, I’m staying here with you today.”

you gasp at his words and a panicked look washes over your face. “wait, no, that’s not what I was getting at-“

he shushes you. “no no, listen. it’s early in the season. we don’t have any games scheduled for a long while, yet and I stayed late last night. one day off won’t hurt, I’ll just go in earlier tomorrow.”

if his younger self could hear him now, he’d probably throw a fit, but he’s older and wiser and his angel needs him, so this is obviously the only logical solution.

your eyes gloss over with adoration, and there’s no room left inside of him for the guilt from skipping a day that he’s been building up for years.

he feels good about his decision to make you a priority. he felt good about it years ago when he asked you out and he gets the feeling he’ll feel good about it twenty years from now, wherever the both of you are by that point.

nothing could ever make him regret making you his top priority. you’ve given him so much, it’s only right that he does the same for you.

“thank you, ‘tsum,” you say after a while of just existing together on the couch.

he nuzzles into your neck and lets the warmth spread through his body at the feel of your torso against his. “‘course, sweetheart. but I’m still curious-“

he lifts himself up just enough that his face is hovering over yours. “where did you hide my gym bag?”

your peaceful expression twists into a smirk. “still not telling~” you sing.

he snorts. “alright, keep your secrets. we both know I have other methods of getting it out of ya. we’ve done this dance too many times, baby.”

you giggle and shake your head fondly. “oh ‘tsum, you couldn’t torture this information out of me. it’s too much fun for me to have something over you.”

his grin is wolfish as he takes in your words. “alright, sure, keep digging yourself into a deeper hole and see how fun it’ll be for ya later.”

“aww, you’re all bark no bi- hey!” you shriek as he playfully bites your nose.

“yeah, yeah, we’ll see if ya still think that when I’m done with ya.”

you don’t put up a fight when he slings you over his shoulder and carries you back to your bedroom.

BONUS:

you take the water bottle he offers you and gulp down half of it in one go.

he takes it from you and sets it off to the side before laying down beside you, equally spent. he feels you looking at him, so he raises an eyebrow at you questioningly.

he knows that look- you’re not completely ready to back down yet. just like when you lie, he thinks you look stunning when you refuse to give in.

“I hid it in the laundry room.”

he sits up a bit and looks down at you with narrowed eyes. “oh really?”

“uh huh.”

“and why’s that?”

the look on your face is lit up with sinister mischief, like you know your words will strike a chord inside of him. “needed to make sure it was in a place you don’t go very often.”

it’s obviously a jab with no real malicious intent (he’s very good about doing his laundry), but it has him playfully growling and pinning you beneath him once more.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be today, hm?”

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

ahem. anyway. he is my everything and I would absolutely hide his things to keep him with me longer. inspired by me bc I have a horrible poker face. cannot lie without laughing to save my life.

@rrairey since this is the fic that one WIP came from I thought I’d tag you, hope that’s okay :3

@emmyrosee 🫶🏻🫶🏻

hope you enjoyed!

[suosgirl]

Keeping It Cute (& Dangerous) - Hayato Suo x Reader | Ch. 3

Word Count: 4100

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. Haruka Sakura, Akihiko Nirei, Taiga Tsugeura, Mitsuki Kiryu

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, f!reader, manga spoilers (?), ooc (?), loss of loved one, violence, panic attack, breakdown, slowburn, knives, stabbing, blood/bleeding, broken bones, harassment, survivor's guilt, misunderstandings, fighting, grief, swearing, ptsd – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: I wasn't feeling the original image because I really want this fic to feel real – so, updated it so it looks like a manga panel (˶˃⤙˂˶) Also, remember when I said this would be 4 parts? I lied, haha. Definitely will be longer (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

୨ৎ Keeping it Cute (& Dangerous) Masterlist

“Bunny,” he repeats himself – simple and matter-of-factly. “That’s not my name.” “But you’re just so cute –” Your nose scrunches up at his words, and he laughs as he claps his hands. “Oh! See, you are a bunny!”

This was a situation that you did NOT have on your bingo card.

Sat in between Kiryu, whose name you had just learned, and Tsugeura, whose name you had also just learned, you found yourself cursing the universe for the streak of bad luck that just kept coming.

(They had originally all sat across from you, something you were thankful for – but when you had excused yourself to use the restroom, they thought nothing of it until they saw you fly past the shop windows.

Sakura and Nirei had to drag you back.

You blame your weakness for puppy dog eyes.

… Fun Fact: Nirei was really good at doing puppy dog eyes.)

You just couldn’t understand it – you had apologized for what you did, and they had told you that you did nothing wrong, so why were you still here?

And also – nothing erases the fact that they’re all still so good-looking. Especially Suo.

Ugh, even his name was pretty. So pretty, in fact, that you couldn’t stop repeating it in your head. 

You could still feel the ghost of his hand on your shoulder and the warmth of his breath on your ear. 

Bunny…

Is that what he thought of you? A harmless, dainty little ball of fur? You’re irritated at the mere idea of being compared to such a powerless animal. 

For goodness sake, you had fractured a man’s hand – bunnies don’t do that.

What’s worse – he had continued to call you that stupid nickname the whole walk here. You had ignored him, of course, but it seems that only fueled him more, because he hasn’t let up on the name since then.

How can someone so handsome be so aggravating? 

You’re brought out of your thoughts by the sound of a poorly veiled excuse of a cough, and you see that they’re all looking at you expectantly.

“Oh – I’m sorry! Did you say something?”

Sakura lets out a sharp tsk, no doubt still annoyed about earlier, before responding to you.

“We were askin’ for your name.”

Oh.

You don’t mean to, really, but you let out a laugh. It bubbles out of you, unrefined and uncontained, because the situation in its entirety is just so ridiculous. Of course you hadn’t introduced yourself to them because you didn’t think you’d still be talking to them. Or rather, that they’d still be talking to you. 

Once your laughter dies down and you’re wiping the stray tears from your eyes, you quickly apologize and introduce yourself.

It’s silent for a second, and then Suo hums and you eye him warily.

“I think I like bunny better,” he concludes, smiling at you.

You shake your head, before correcting him with a forced smile of your own.

“Bunny,” he repeats himself – simple and matter-of-factly.

“That’s not my name.”

“But you’re just so cute –”

Your nose scrunches up at his words, and he laughs as he claps his hands.

“Oh! See, you are a bunny!”

Suddenly, you don’t like him anymore. 

You turn to Kiryu, even though you barely know him, because you need support and validation and he looks like the type to run to your aid in times of need. He’s already looking down at you, his eyes thoughtful and sensible and you’re sure that he’ll be the one to put an end to this endless teasing. He’s so reliable, you think. And handsome. And Kind. But now he’s smirking at you and you’re not sure why – 

“Kitten! You look like a kitten right now~”

You almost flip the table. Keyword: almost. You are, after all, just a girl – but girls don’t flip tables. No matter how irritated they are. And you know what? You pride yourself on how poised and collected you are in the face of hardship. You are resolute – unbreakable. This is child’s play. 

“I don’t think you’re anything like that –” Tsugeura chimes in, and you’re so glad that someone finally sees you for who you are. 

Perhaps… perhaps Tsugeura was way more emotionally aware and attuned to others' feelings than you had first thought. You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, and suddenly, Tsegeura is just so dreamy and handsome and – 

“– you’re more like a banana! Banana is my favorite protein flavor, the other fla-”

You slide your hands under the table. 

First, you were going to flip this shit. Then, you were going to rock their shit.

“I-I think you’re really cool … and strong!” Nirei interrupts your silent rampage, and you feel the anger dissipate from your body.

You decide then that Nirei is your favorite one from the group, and you grant him a smile – because kindness is supposed to be met with even more kindness. And he was kind, and cute, and sweet, and –

“But … I feel like I’ve heard your name before… I just can’t remember where…,” he mutters, and you watch him pull out a small notebook from his jacket. 

You feel your skin prickle at his words, and you quickly ask Kiryu what he’s looking at.

“Ah – he collects information about people –”

Kiryu’s still talking, but you tune him out.

If people from this town knew who your brother was, then you weren’t safe here either.

You watch Nirei flip through his notebook in earnest, and your hands start to get clammy. You had to leave. Whether he found the information he was looking for or not, you didn’t want to stay to find out. You decide that you had entertained them long enough, and it’s when you start to slowly push your chair back that Nirei finds what he’s looking for.

“Aha! I knew your name sounded familiar!” he’s beaming at you as he says your brother's name, and you don’t have it in your heart to ask him to stop.

But then – he’s naming things about your brother like his height and his preferences and his shoe size and you can’t stop the way your eyes are starting to water or the way your hands softly inch towards to stop him.

And everyone’s so enraptured in Nirei’s storytelling, so intrigued by the rumors of your brother and the rumors of you, that no one notices.

It’s only when you gently pull the notebook from his hands that he stops. You’re not mad. Really. 

You’re just – 

…

You don’t know how you feel.

Through blurry eyes, you skim over the page and you’re surprised at how accurate everything is – but, you find one flaw.

One stupid flaw that you wish wasn’t real, but it was, and reality hurts.

“You need to add that he passed away a year ago,” you say before clumsily handing the notebook back to him – your eyes glued to your lap.

The table falls silent, and you don’t want to look up. You don’t want to look any of them in their eyes or see their expressions of remorse or guilt because, honestly, they didn’t know.

But… But to hang your head low in your brother’s memory was shameful. He deserved to be remembered with your head held high – a smile on your face and pride in your voice. That’s the type of person he was.

“My brother –” you take a deep breath, willing your voice to stop shaking and your hands to stop fidgeting. Kiryu’s hand is on your back, comforting and sweet, and you know that he’s silently telling you not to push yourself – but you press on.

If your brother were here right now, he’d tease you endlessly about how small and frail you look. 

But then… he’d flick your forehead and tell you to straighten your spine – because addressing your feelings and your fears head-on is the only way to get stronger.

“He was the one that taught me that I could wear whatever I want, do whatever I want, and be whoever I want – because I’m strong enough to back it up. He made sure of that.”

“He was really famous in our town… Maybe that’s why you’ve heard of him? He protected everyone, just like you guys, and he had this thing he would do where he would call himself –”

“The LION…,” Nirei joins in quietly with you, and you let out a small laugh as you nod. 

“Yeah, my brother was the lion and I was the tiger. He was really into stuff like that – said it made us sound cool and intimidating and whatnot. He even had everyone call us that too and I used to hate it because it was so cheesy, but somewhere down the road, it grew on me.”

You’re smiling now, but it isn’t reaching your eyes. You’re trying, though, and they can see that.

“When I fight …,” you pause, and flashbacks start running through your mind. 

You remember all the fighting, all the banter, and all the lessons. He was such a flashy person, always trying to take on 15 people at a time just to show how strong he was. But … he was strong. Stupidly strong, and so so smart. He had the mind of a tactician – always planning, always thinking. His strategies rarely failed, and if they did, he took it in stride with a smile on his face and a chip on his shoulder.

“... I feel like he’s right there beside me, giving me pointers on what I could do better and telling me not to mess up my hair too much.”

You missed him – terribly. But, life goes on. 

The days pass by, the seasons change, and in some miraculous way – you begin healing.

“I think about him everyday,” you admit, “he was my best friend, my role model, and I knew him like the back of my hand. You’re doing his life’s work, too – and that’s something to be incredibly proud of.”

You look up at them, and though your tears have subsided, there’s still an ache in your chest that you know will only get lighter with time.

“How?”

You flinch at the question, and everyone is quick to scold Sakura but he continues – 

“He sounded pretty damn strong, so what happened?”

The question makes sense. Your brother was strong, so how did he, of all people, get killed? 

You know that you, yourself, are also an enigma – so you get where he’s coming from. You had moved to Makochi with trauma and issues and history, and it still wasn’t clear if you were a threat or not. It just hurts, you suppose, being perceived like this.

You purse your lips, not because you’re angry at Sakura, but because you’re angry at what you’re about to say.

This part always stung the most.

“My brother… he was well known, even outside of our town, for ending fights and saving people. He was a hero – the town’s hero. But because of his reputation, we had more and more people moving in, and a lot of them had emotional baggage. They –”

Your hands start shaking again, and you have to force yourself to calm down.

“They didn’t know this, and it isn’t their fault, but because of so many people seeking refuge with us, gangs from out of town were putting a target on me and my brother.”

Your breathing is coming out ragged now, and you can feel your body start to heat up with pure anger.

Kiryu’s hand is on your back again, and you’re so grateful for the way it grounds you enough to continue speaking.

“The night that my brother died, he was by himself. We didn’t know that the gangs had reached out to one another to create some sort of compromise, but if we had, then maybe things would be different.”

“I don’t … I don’t know exactly what happened, but when they found him, he was on the outskirts of town with 50 bodies laid out around him and 20 stab wounds… He could’ve been saved, but he lost too much blood because he just kept fighting.”

“I was supposed to be with him that night, but I had a stupid little cold and he told me to stay home and rest. Can you believe that? I was at home, with soup and cough medicine and a runny nose, while my brother was out there dying, and I –”

You don’t realize you’re gasping for air until they’re all telling you to stop, and you finally notice the hot tears running down your face.

Your body stills, and then – you’re quiet.

It takes everything in you to just breathe.

You’re stuck like that for what feels like forever before you’re able to start releasing the tension in your body, but your heart is still racing and your mind is still reeling and –

Sakura breaks the silence.

“... They’re cowards – you don’t bring knives to a fistfight,” he states, plain and simple, and the rest of them are waiting with bated breath and worried eyes as you look up at him and –

You laugh. It’s a bitter laugh, but it’s something, and you see their shoulders drop with relief.

Slowly, your heart returns to a steady rhythm and you’re sure that you’re probably looking a lot better because Kiryu is softly asking where you’re from.

You hesitate, but the name of your hometown falls from your lips – and so do their faces. 

“That’s –,” Nirei starts, but Sakura cuts him off.

“Whaddya doin’ all the way over here, then?”

You pause.

“I’m protecting my town – same as you.”

“That … doesn’t seem like much protection – ”

“They're still looking for me – the hit that night was for both of us. They only want me. The town is safe because I’m not there.”

You’re met with silence, and you take that as a queue to wrap this whole thing up. You’ve said far too much than you’d like to admit, and you don’t want to get attached to these feelings and these people and this town. 

This was fun. Handsome boys always make good company. But, the sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can move on.

So, you bring your hands together with a soft clap, grabbing their attention as you smile at them.

You drone on about how, despite this being a great fun experience, it’s getting late and you really oughta head back to your apartment now. You’re thanking them for listening to you and for being so nice and caring, but you’ve already taken up so much of their time and you couldn’t possibly keep them out for longer.

You honestly, genuinely think you’re doing pretty good.

What you don’t count on, though, is that they’re getting familiar with your smiles. They’re starting to catch on to which ones are real and which ones aren’t – and the smile you’re giving them now is so guarded and forced and fake that they’re already standing up before you finish your little spiel. 

You deflate at their reaction. You weren’t even done.

Sighing, you go to grab your bag before standing up – and they’re quick to gather around until they’re blocking you with their bodies.

“You’re not thinking about leaving town, are you?” 

“Of course not! Goodness, why would you even think that?”

You laugh, light and friendly, before trying to step around them. They block you again.

“Look, I’m tired and I want to go home. Please please please let me go home,” you plead, desperate to finally be alone.

“If we visit you tomorrow, you’ll still be there? You won’t be gone?”

You smile again, but your eyes are starting to twitch and your patience is running thin.

“Yes yes yes – I promise I’ll still be there tomorrow.”

What a fucking liar, they think.

You, on the other hand, are getting frustrated because usually nosy people end it at the first question. You’re not at all used to whatever this is, and you’re starting to get worried that perhaps they got too attached to you. 

“We’ll walk you home –”

“No need! It’s really not that far!”

Your facade is cracking now, and you’re starting to get antsy. This was too much attention, too much care, and you hadn’t experienced this much clinginess in so long.

Why couldn’t they be more like other towns, who didn’t so much as bat an eyelash when you left because you had caused fights and problems and violence?

“How will we know where to go tomorrow then?”

“Oh – good question! Here, pull out your phones and I’ll give you my contact information.”

They immediately do as you say, but when they look up, you’re fucking gone – halfway out the door by the time they realize it.

You’re booking it, running as fast as you can through alleyways and sharp corners before they even get a clue of where you are. 

You’re smiling, pleased with yourself because you won and boys are just so easy.

Finally, you can unwind from the disastrous day you’ve just had and wallow in self-pity and embarrassment to your heart's con– 

You run into something hard and firm and tall and handsome and – shit.

Suo’s got his arms wrapped around your waist, strong and secure, and though he’s smiling, you can see how furious he is by the way he’s pressing his lips together.

“It seems my sweet little bunny just keeps getting away.”

You bristle at his words, and for a split second, you consider flipping him out of your way, but his fingers lightly press into your body as a warning and – 

“Okay fine, you’ve caught me. Are you happy now?”

You hate how breathless you sound in his arms, but he, on the other hand, is absolutely thrilled. Whether it’s because of your pathetic surrender or because you’re so damn close, you’re not sure.

You place your hands on his chest because, if you’re going to let yourself be held captive by him you might as well enjoy it, and you feel the tiniest flex of his body under your fingertips.

Oh. 

Alright – fine. Two can play at this game.

You tilt your head to look up at him, and in the prettiest voice you can muster, you say — “You’re being so mean, Suo.”

All he does is hum at your words, and you flush at the lack of response. 

Never… never again. 

Maybe you should flip him. It wouldn’t hurt, you think, to get one good jab in. Make him really remember you before you’re gone. 

“I honestly think you’re being the mean one here.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he continues.

“If you think leaving is the best thing for you to do right now, then I’ll let you go.”

He drops his arms, and you shiver. You’re not sure if it’s from the breeze or the weight of his words, but you instinctively wrap your hands around yourself.

“You can go to the next town, and then the next one, and then the next one, until you’ve run out of land – and I won’t stop you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you look away from his stare. You can’t do this, can’t listen to this, it hurts and your chest is tight and – 

“Or, you can stay here a little while longer. You can get to know the town, know the people, and you could find something worth staying and protecting again.”

You're stepping away from him now, your eyes clenched and your hands shaking.

For a year, you’ve had whispers of your brother's voice, sure, and the occasional casual friendships from town to town, but you’ve never ever been spoken to quite like this. You didn’t know words could bruise you like this. You didn’t know the truth could sear into your skin and burn.

You didn’t give anyone the chance to confront you, never stayed long enough to make it worth it, but here he was – stern and honest and real.

You’re scared – no, terrified at the idea that someone like him could see right through you. That he could see through your facade. That he cared enough to say all of this. That he cared enough to try.

You don’t … know what to do. You’re at a crossroads, and although you’d been in this town for a couple of weeks now, this was the first time you were seeing it for what it truly is. 

And you’re not sure if you can love another town the way you loved your hometown. You can’t get attached or comfortable — can't stay in one place for too long. You don’t know what could happen to the people here. What if they find you? What happens then? You shouldn’t risk it, a voice rings through your head.

Yeah, yeah you shouldn’t – 

Another voice, so quiet and soft that you wouldn’t have even noticed it if you hadn’t been thinking so hard echoes out.

Try. Hope. Trust. Believe. Protect.

You fear that you’re losing your mind, the words so outlandish and foreign that you can’t remember the last time they’ve ever left your mouth.

But then – you remember earlier. The girl you helped. The girl you protected. The protection that Bofurin offered to you. The hope in her eyes. The trust in their eyes. The trust in you. 

And suddenly, you’re crying. It’s not a burst, nor is it hot to the touch. It’s a slow, mesmerizing trickle of tears shining with intention and meaning and feelings and you don’t make a move to bottle it up.

Suo sees this, and his lips press together before he continues.

“You’re not alone here… you’re safe.”

He knows. 

He knows that it’s important for you to make this decision yourself.

Suo was an observer – he had waited for you to slip up, to show your true self. He couldn’t trust you, not yet. His friends were much more kind, much more optimistic than he was – but he had his doubts. 

He watched you with his full attention as you told your story. He saw the way that you caved in on yourself. He witnessed the path of destruction that you were following with a naked eye and a blind heart.

And when you had apologized on your knees for such a small misunderstanding, how could he have stopped himself from helping you up and easing your anxiety?

You had made him concerned. So concerned, in fact, that he saw right through your little trick back at Pothos, and the minute you had bolted, he was already out the door and hot on your trail.

Besides – how could you, someone from out of town, know the streets better than him?

He had chased you twice now. 

He doesn’t dwell on this realization too much.

But, if you truly decided it was best for you to leave, he wouldn’t stop you. He was a man of his word, and although deep in his heart he knows you’d be so much happier and safer if you stayed in Makochi, well, he wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if he didn’t respect your wishes.

So he stands there with his hands clasped behind his back, and he waits, and he hopes.

And although you're silent, he can tell you’re reaching some sort of an epiphany because you’re still here. You haven’t run away. You haven’t disappeared.

It isn’t until you’re looking up at him that Suo finally lets out the breath he’d unconsciously been holding in this whole time, but he needs to make sure —

He stares into your eyes for a brief second before visibly relaxing.

Ah. There it is.

Your eyes… They have color again.

It was such a small detail when he first noticed it earlier – back when he had first laid his eye on you. 

Your eyes had been blank – they were blank when you were staring at them, blank when you crushed that man’s hand, blank when he had pulled you up from the ground.

But then, when you were holding hands with that girl and reminiscing about your brother, he saw it – brief and fleeting and pretty.

Your eyes, when they’re full of life and hope, are so very pretty.

Your lips are moving, but Suo hasn’t got a clue what you’ve said, and it’s his turn to get flustered now because getting distracted like this is so very unlike him.

“Hm? Sorry bunny – I didn’t quite catch that.”

You pout, his eyes dropping to the way your bottom lip juts out – and now you’ve got his attention. He wishes he was a stronger man, truly.

“I said –,” you pause, the nickname causing your face to warm up and the tips of your ears to bloom a lovely shade of pink, “... I said I’ll stay.”

୨ৎ Chapter 4

[dustofthedailylife]

The Art Of Desire

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: You are in need of a model for your anatomy class assignment. However, the last thing you expected was that your crush would volunteer to help you and that he would end up standing in front of you without a shirt.

Tags: Fluff, Suggestive (but still completely SFW)!, shy reader, partial nud*ty I guess? (Alhaitham is shirtless at some point), flirting, kissing

A/N: *throws fic into the room and leaves*

Being an artist while also being a scholar in Sumeru had always been somewhat difficult for you. The arts had never been something most people in Sumeru City appreciated or even actively looked down upon. It was a city of scholars after all, and the arts were too abstract to properly grasp for most of them.

Things had begun to become better after the old Grand Sage had been replaced and the new Archon had been freed but a lot of scholars still didn’t show much interest in the arts.

But due to that an assignment for one of your classes proved difficult. Anatomy.

You had no idea how learning human anatomy would help you as an architect later, but you did what you had to do. And it would surely help you with your personal art projects later on as well.

The only thing you had to find now was someone who could pose for you. Surely Kaveh would be able to help you right? He was your best friend and was once in the same situation.

You sought him out where he hung around the most - the Tavern.

As you walked through the Tavern door, warm air that smelled like wine and spices wafted your way and filled all your senses. You loved how homely it always felt here.

You scanned the tables to find Kaveh. Unfortunately for you though, he wasn’t alone. As you feared, Alhaitham was with him. You already considered turning around to leave again but Kaveh had already spotted you and was enthusiastically waving for you to come over to their table. 

And that was precisely the reason you rarely ever came here nowadays. Kaveh often met up with Alhaitham here for lunch. And your crush on the latter had slowly but surely turned you into a nonsense-blabbering mess during conversations with him. At this point, he probably thought you were stupid.

You hesitantly tiptoed over to their table and greeted them while your heart pounded heavily inside your chest. You sat down on the bench next to Kaveh who was already a bit tipsy. It wasn’t much of a surprise, since he was such a lightweight and practically got drunk as soon as he looked at wine the wrong way.

“Kaveh, I need your help!” You pleaded, trying to avoid eye contact with Alhaitham as much as possible once again.

“And that would be, my dear friend?” Kaveh replied in a singsong voice.

“Alright so… I need someone to pose for me. I need to draw a couple of detailed torso drawings for the anatomy course I’ve been taking, and since you also took that once I thought you could help me. I mean, you could also give me some tips. Right?” 

“Oh.” His smile faltered for a brief moment and his facial expression told you everything you needed to know. There was apparently a reason he couldn’t help but he didn’t outright want to turn you down. You knew how he is, he simply couldn’t say no and would inconvenience himself any time for his friends. And you definitely didn’t want him to do that for you. You’d be able to find someone else somehow.

“It’s okay if you can’t do it. Just say no.” You reassured him.

“I have an appointment in the desert with a client, but I’m sure I could make some ti–”

“I’ll help you.” Alhaitham cut Kaveh off.

Both of you snapped your heads in his direction in disbelief.

“Are you sick?! Why would you volunteer to help anyone but yourself?” Kaveh gasped and looked at the Scribe as if he’d lost his mind.

“It’s not much work, is it? They could just come to my office and draw me while I just sit there doing my work. Isn’t that correct?” Alhaitham inquired, boring his turquoise eyes into you. You simply nodded in reply and could feel your breath hitch in your throat. You were sure that if you would be standing right now your knees would’ve probably given in by now since they felt like jello. On top of that, your nervousness skyrocketed so badly that you were able to feel your heartbeat in your throat. 

The thought of being alone with Alhaitham for a prolonged period of time while ogling him as closely as you never dared before, made your heart flutter. You probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate on drawing properly but if he was already offering it, you couldn’t possibly refuse. Especially since he usually didn’t do anyone any favors to begin with.

“Besides,” Alhaitham continued. “It gives me an excuse to decline every other meeting for the rest of the day.”

“Tch, typical. Of course, there’d be an egoistic reason for your volunteering.” Kaveh scoffed.

“I don’t see any issue with that. I help them with their assignment while also helping myself. It’s a beneficial endeavor for both of us.” Alhaitham reasoned, twirling his own wine cup between his fingers before turning to you again. "Wouldn't you agree, too?"

You slowly nodded before quickly averting your eyes again since you couldn't bear to look at Alhaitham for longer than a few seconds without getting flustered. You had no idea how you were supposed to look at him for a prolonged period of time to draw him if you were already reduced to a flustered mess by talking to him. The thought alone made your heart almost jump out of your chest.

Kaveh shook his head in annoyance and turned to you once more. “Just say the word and I’ll take a day off to help you. Rest assured, it would be no problem for me.”

“No, Kaveh. I couldn’t possibly ask you to neglect your own responsibilities for my projects. Just keep your focus on yourself. If Alhaitham is so kind to offer his help I’ll take him up on that.” You reassured him while trying to hide how nervous you actually were about the situation.

“Well, shall we get going then? My lunch break is almost over.” Alhaitham interrupts, immediately getting up from the table.

You somewhat hesitantly got up as well since you didn’t expect he meant you could draw him right now. You had no time to mentally prepare for it so this would be interesting.

“Oh, so now you suddenly care about getting back to work on time after your lunch break,” was the last thing you heard Kaveh yell before the door of the Tavern fell shut behind both of you.

As you quietly tailed behind Alhaitham back to his office the realization that you’d actually be drawing him now suddenly began to dawn on you.

Oh, just what did you agree to here? And how in the world should you avoid making this awkward now?

Once you arrived at his officeAlhaitham unlocked the door and motioned you inside.

“You can sit down at the table over there. Do you need anything?”

“No. I should be fine.” You replied with a shy smile.

You were in fact everything but that.

While you were trying not to have a meltdown as you unpacked your stuff, Alhaitham was brewing some coffee and handed you a cup as well.

“Do you need me to do anything?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“In terms of posing.”

“Oh. Uh– no actually not. Just sit on your chair and read or whatever?”

“Nothing easier than that.” He replied with a faint smile, grabbing a book from the bookshelf beside you and walking back to his desk.

You busied yourself by scanning the books on the shelves that littered his office while sipping on your coffee before you turned around again and had to stop yourself from immediately spitting your coffee out again. Although as soon as you did you wished you had never done so.

Alhaitham had unclasped his cape and had loosely thrown it over his desk and was just about to pull his shirt over his head. You were trying to process what was happening before your eyes but your mind was racing so fast that you failed to fully grasp the scene before you.

“W-what are you doing?!” You stammered.

“Didn’t you say this was for your anatomy assignment?” He inquired, seeming entirely unbothered before ultimately removing his shirt completely.

Well, yeah you did. And for that bare skin was sort of a requirement. You knew that full well, too. It just sort of slipped your mind that taking Alhaitham up on his offer would actually entail seeing him without a shirt as well.

“Y-yes.” You replied, moving your eyes over his now exposed abdominal muscles. His usual shirt already left little to the imagination, but actually seeing his trained body without the thin piece of fabric covering it was a sight for sore eyes.

He claimed to only be a feeble scholar but that notion couldn’t be any further from the truth.

“Then there you have the answer to your question.” He stated matter-of-factly before sitting down and opening his book to read. His face still looked as unbothered as it did before and he immediately lost himself in his book.

In the meantime, you tried your hardest to get yourself together again. Not only did you need to keep your eyes from wandering but also your mind. 

You traced every well-toned muscle of his upper body. How light and shadow formed their contours and how his pectorals moved whenever he flipped another page. You took note of every detail and etched it into your memory while suppressing the urge to brush over his defined muscles.

You sat down at the table and held onto your pen for dear life as you continued to analyze every little detail of his body. The embedded gem between his collarbones and hot it beautifully shimmered in the light of his office. The sharp V-Line that started right above his hips. The symmetric curve of his collarbones leading up to his shoulders. And his turquoise eyes that were boring into yours once again.

"Is anything the matter?" He inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

"N-no. I'm just trying to find a starting point." You stammered your poor attempt at an excuse.

After all 'Sorry, I was too distracted by staring at your body' wasn't something you could just say either.

“T-tell me if you’re getting too cold and we can take a break.”

“It’s 40 degrees outside, I’ll be fine.” He chuckled seemingly amused about your concern.

“Ri-right. Yeah. Okay.” You awkwardly bit your lip. For Archon's sake, why couldn’t you just behave normally around him?

After overcoming the first awkwardness you eventually started sketching. But the more the shapes on your paper resembled the beautiful man in front of you, the more flustered you became again and the more aware you became of the fact of how closely you were actually looking at him. Your attention to detail for this sketch was even more on point than it had ever been before. Upon realizing that it was because you were enjoying what you were seeing your cheeks started to burn in embarrassment.

You spent about an hour immersed in sketching, carefully studying every contour of his upper body. It felt so intimate that you couldn't help but wonder if anyone had ever looked at him this way before. And even though you kept telling yourself that this was just a regular art study session to avoid getting flustered further, the endeavor proved completely unsuccessful. 

Eventually, you finished your piece and dropped your pen on the table. You lifted your sketchbook up to evaluate the page and the final result.

The once-blank page was now filled with an intricate pencil sketch of the handsome man with a dreamlike physique. You had to admit, he truly was the perfect subject for anatomy studies. And while you wouldn’t mind seeing him shirtless more often you doubt your heart could handle it another time. Because despite sitting the entire time you felt like you had just run a marathon.

“Your talent is quite impressive.” Alhaitham’s voice rang right next to your ear and made you flinch. You didn’t notice how he had approached you. And what made things worse is that he was still shirtless while standing next to you so closely you could feel the heat that emanated from his skin and smell his after-shave.

You gulped and got up from your chair avoiding looking into his eyes as much as possible because you feared that if you did your heart would burst out of your chest. 

“Thank you. That means a lot. I-I mean… it was quite easy to see the muscle definition on you.”

Facepalm. Why did you say that? You internally cringed at your choice of words and continued to avoid looking at him while you hastily started packing your bag again.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” He remarked with a smirk and lifted your chin up with your sketchbook, forcing you to look into his eyes.

You opened your mouth in order to say something but everything you could’ve said died in your throat. So instead, you simply continue to stare at him while your heart felt like it was about to combust and you wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground in shame.

He huffed in amusement at your evident flustered state and closed the gap between your bodies, placing his arm next to your head on the wall, towering over you.

“Do you have any idea how obvious you are?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I see the way you look at me, or rather how you always avoid doing so now. And Kaveh happened to slip up and revealed your secret when he got drunk. And that’s why I can tell you that I feel the exact same way about you. And I’ve longed for a moment to tell you. You didn’t make it easy since you kept avoiding me lately.”

You didn’t know whether what was happening was wishful imagination or a fever dream because it felt surreal. 

He put your sketchbook back on the table and lifted your chin with his free hand now. He took hold of one of your hands and placed it on his abs.

“This is what you wanted to do the entire time, am I right?” He whispered while the bud of his thumb brushed past your lower lip. You slowly nodded as your traced along his toned stomach with a featherlight touch, feeling how the muscles moved below your fingertips.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered in a low tone when you looked up into his eyes.

He had barely even finished asking when you leaned into him more and took the initiative to place your lips on his for a shy kiss. But it was so fleeting it had you longing for more and it seems that the feeling was mutual.

He quickly snaked his arms around your waist and pressed you against him with fervor while he hungrily crashed his lips into yours once more. You slung your arms around his neck and entangled your fingers in his soft gray locks while pushing his face even closer to yours than it already was.

You could feel him smiling into the kiss, as you did so. His lips continued to gently caress yours like a tender whisper of affection shared only between you two. It made you feel lightheaded while also leaving you longing for more. It was an intoxicating feeling like no other. One you certainly could get addicted to - and maybe you already were. 

At some point, you had no idea for how long you had been standing there kissing but it felt like an eternity yet not long enough at the same time.

You were sure of one thing though – You needed more of it.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[blossoming-mind-palace]

I read your Chung Myung with pregnant S/O request and I was wondering if you could do another one where he finds out that his s/o is having twins? His reaction? How do you think Chung Myung and s/o would handle their first time parenting after the twins are born? What would the twins be like?

Of course! I loved writing the first one, so I was excited to write this! :)

Chung Myung and his S/O having Twins (SFW)

I’m assuming that no one would know about them until they arrive, because twins can be hard to detect. Just like your baby count, Chung Myung's anxieties double when that second head crowns. Accidentally yelled while holding the first one like “What do you mean there’s another head? They have to push out ANOTHER one!?” He definitely makes sure you have everything you want/need afterwards, because that ended up being a LOT more pain and work than you all expected.

The rest of the sect couldn’t believe their eyes when y’all leave the room with not one, but two babies.

Everyone is panicking, because they thought they would just have to deal with the original Chung Myung and one mini version of him… but what's worse than two Chung Myungs?? THREE Chung Myungs! Everyone expects them to be as chaotic as their father. (They’re correct) Get ready for trouble and make it double, am I right?

They probably both look and act like him… I headcanon him as having strong genes. 🤷🏻‍♀️

They gained the nickname “the two devils of Mount Hua” during their terrible toddler stage, and that title stuck around until adulthood. They’re biters, ofc. (Just like their daddy-) When they’re too young to fight, Chung Myung’s protectiveness increases tenfold.

Ofc as they grow older, they become stronger thanks to their dad's training. Even if they don't want to pursue martial arts, they're still gonna learn a little just so Chung Myung knows that they can defend themselves.

Chung Myung also works really hard to make sure that they're equally taken care of and loved. He's super thankful that you two have each other, because taking care of the two devils would have been a LOT of work for one person.

If they're identical, they definitely use their appearances to cause chaos or to get out of punishment.

They're both as expressive as Chung Myung, and all three are great at reading each other's micro-expressions. The only problem with this is that they can't hide anything from their father, and the two have gotten into trouble because their lying faces weren't enough to deceive their dad.

They only listen to their parents and don't care about the rest of the sect’s elders. It's kinda like how Chung Myung was with Chung Mun, y'know? If Chung Mun were still around, they’d probably respect him, too. :’(

[lovebugism]

hi angel! I have a little fictober request … can I pls get holding hands for the first time from the prompt list with steve harrington and shy!reader? maybe they’re in a busy place and steve doesn’t want to lose r so he grabs her hand, not realising how ridiculously flustered she gets <3333

ty for requesting angel :D this can be read as a part two to this fic!

summary: steve takes you to a mall in the city in a desperate attempt to spend time with you, fending off freaks, douchebags, and your anxious tendencies alike (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers cw for mentions of anxiety, 3.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve idles between the X-rated horror and thriller sections for several long minutes until he works up the courage to talk to you. You’re a pretty little thing behind the counter, hand in your palm as you scribble into the journal Keith threatened to confiscate from you earlier that morning.

He’s never been this nervous to talk to you. Things are different now. Post-first date, and Steve’s still toeing that wretched line between friends and something more. The puppy love is so painfully mutual, but it’s equally hard to navigate. He can’t come on too strong — not with someone as soft as you — but he’s still got some King Steve left in him. He’s still learning how to be gentle.

With sweaty hands, he walks up to the counter and tries to be subtle about the whole thing. Stealthy, like a ninja. He leans on his folded-up arms and blurts before he means to, “So you’re, like, totally coming tomorrow, right?”

You lift your chin and blink at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t heard him come over, too busy doodling a bunch of nothingness in your notebook. Your stomach whirls at the sight of him. It takes you a moment too long to answer.

“Coming… where?”

“To the mall,” he reminds, then corrects himself with a shrug. “The one in the city— not the shithole we have here.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t— I don’t know,” you stammer. Steve invited you earlier that week, and you promised to think about it. You did. And you want so desperately to go, but your brain’s too mean, and it just won’t let you.

The disappointment that flashes on his face is fleeting, but you don’t miss it. The hurt softens his features in an unbearable way. It makes your chest ache.

“C’mon,” Steve presses in a gentle lilt. He leans closer to you, eyes twinkling and lips curling. “It could be fun, you know? I mean, everyone’s gonna be there.”

He’s trying his best to persuade you. He has no idea that that’s exactly what’s keeping you from going. Crowds are always stress-inducing, even those of the familiar kind.

“Everyone as in…?”

“Robin, obviously. Dustin, too,” Steve answers, counting on his fingers as he goes. “Max is coming, but Lucas has a basketball thing, so he can’t. And the rest of the little shits are in California, so that’s definitely a plus.”

It’s a dumb joke, but it makes you laugh anyway — a quiet giggle of a thing that makes him grin.

“Uh… Eddie’s coming, too, I think— but don’t let that dissuade you, alright? I promise I’ll protect you from that freak. You don’t have to worry about him.”

You smile because you know he’s joking. You’ve met Eddie a couple times now. He’s always been really sweet to you. Him and Steve just have a strange complex that forces them to be assholes to each other.

“And also, I’m gonna be there. Obviously. So…” he trails off with a wavering smile. So if you don’t wanna come for them, maybe you can come for me, is what he’s really trying to tell you.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, quieter now as you shrink into yourself. You try and fail to meet Steve’s honeyed gaze. “I just feel like I’ll make everything all weird.”

His bushy brows pinch, almost in offense that you’d think you’re anything less than totally perfect. “Why would you think that?”

“‘Cause… I don’t know,” you murmur in a quiet sigh. You don’t want to lie to him, but telling the truth feels so much harder. “They don’t really know me, you know? And I feel like… like I’ll just ruin everything if I’m there…”

It takes Steve a couple of seconds to answer you. He doesn’t know how you could say something that — like you don’t light up every room you’re in. “Well, that’s… that’s just not true,” he argues with a shrug. “They like you. They love you, actually— they just wanna get to know you. And the only way they’re gonna get to know you is if you come hang out every once in a while.”

Your heart flutters. You want to believe him. It’s hard for you to comprehend that anyone could care so much about your presence, so you just nod and don’t say anything further. 

Steve is quick to comfort you, almost like he can read your mind. “But if you think it’s gonna be too much, you could always just stick with me. I’ll fend off the freaks for you, no problem.”

His cinnamon eyes glimmer with honey. He looks at you far too fondly to say no.

—————

There’s six of you crammed into Steve’s 733i. It’s already a tight fit, but it’s more suffocating when it’s full of a million different conversations. Almost all of them are pointed your way. Steve tries to bat everyone off of you, but it’s hard to yell at everyone and drive at the same time.

You’re being a pretty good sport about it despite how anxiously helpless you feel. 

You wring your clammy hands in your lap and try to regulate your bated breaths, nodding to whatever Max is telling you. It’s hard to hear her because Eddie’s talking to you, too. You’re too scared he’ll think you’re mean if you stop him.

You watch Robin reach for the radio, complaining about all the yelling as she turns up the volume. The cheesy pop song is all you can hear. The conversations around you become a monotone buzzing. You feel like you could just about explode.

“Jesus, you guys are acting like you’ve never seen another person before,” Steve shouts over it all, the only definite thing you can understand. “Let her breathe before she thinks we’re all a bunch of lunatics, alright?”

He’s met with a bunch of muffled complaints, but the noise quietens nonetheless.

Steve glances at you in the rearview, a quick check to make sure you’re still okay. You catch him doing it and try your best to give him a smile. It looks more like a wince.

“Well, it’s your fault for finally bringing someone cool around,” Max argues with all her practiced teenaged ambiguity. “I have to spend all day surrounded by freaks— at least now there’s someone halfway normal to talk to.”

“I’m normal!” Steve insists, face twisted in offense.

“You’re a jock.”

“Hey. C’mon, Red,” Eddie scolds, so obviously playful. “Let’s not go throwing the j-word around—”

The brunette boy huffs. “Thank you!”

“—Jock would imply that Steve’s still cool,” the wild-haired boy continues. “Which he isn’t.”

Poorly hidden laughter fills the small car. Steve nods and mutters beneath it all, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the clarification, Munson.”

He glances at you again and finds you cracking a halfway sincere smile. He shoots you a light-hearted glare. “Don’t laugh! You’re just encouraging him!”

“Sorry,” you apologize, hiding your giggle behind your fist. “’M sorry.”

Steve smiles at you, silently tells you he doesn’t really mean it. He’d let Musnon make fun of him all day if he thought it meant he’d get to hear you laugh like that again.

—————

You take your first good breath in an hour when you step out of the car. 

Steve shuts it off and gravitates towards you on instinct. His honey eyes are wide as they dart across your flustered features. You see his hands reach towards you, to grab your elbows maybe, but he decides against it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, quicker than you mean to. “I’m good.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I really tried to—”

“I know,” you cut him off with a sweet, still quiet smile. “It’s still okay.”

He sighs heavy, like a deep breath of relief. “Okay. Good,” he hums, almost to himself, nodding with a pink grin you could stare at all day. He would’ve let you, but neither of you get the chance. 

Your friends start messing around, and the chaos melts into the buzzing crowd surrounding you, and you realize the two of you aren’t the only people on earth. Bummer.

You gather around the large map at the entrance of the bustling mall. “Where should we go first?” Dustin chirps from the front of the crowd. His eyes are as wide as his smile. “Game Player? Sam Goody? Oh, look— they have a RadioShack! I’ve been looking for a new supercomm. It’s on the other side of the  building, though, but we can just work our way around, I guess—”

“Jesus, Dusty-Bun,” Robin interjects with a gritty laugh. She stands on the outside of the group, arms crossed over her chest, effortlessly too cool for it all. “Take a breath, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” the boy gripes over his right shoulder.

Steve shrugs. “Go wherever you want to. I don’t care.”

Dustin looks to his left, shooting the older boy a glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be the babysitter?”

“You’re fourteen!”

“Well, what if I get kidnapped?”

“No one’s kidnapping you, alright? Trust me,” Steve jokes, only smiling when he sees you trying to hide yours. He puts his hands on his waist and cocks his hip to the side. “They’ll send you right back where you came from. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dustin squints. “Rude.”

“We’ll just meet back at the food court in, like, two hours. And if you don’t get yourself killed, you’ll be fine,” Steve reasons with a nonchalant shrug and a jutted-out lip.

“Oh. Wow. Thanks, Steve. What would I ever do without you?”

He rolls his cinnamon eyes at the boy’s monotone. “Alright, smartass.”

When the rest of the group dissipates, he leans over to nudge your shoulder. It knocks you from your stupor — so deep in your own head you were practically drowning. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” he asks with a wavering smile. His laugh is equally forced. “You’re kinda staring a hole into the map there…”

“Oh. No. I was just…” you trail off with a shake of your head. You’re not entirely sure what to tell him, how to make him understand your easily overstimulated mind. “I was just distracted. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No big deal.”

“Where did everyone else go?” you wonder with a furrow to your brow, noticing the lack of familiar chaos around you.

“Eddie and Dustin went to some movie store, and I think Robin and Max are on the hunt for cassettes.”

“Okay...” you nod with a tremble in your voice. 

You’re still not totally used to being alone with Steve. Your friends are usually good distractions. They fill your awkward silences with something funnier and talk loud when you get too quiet. When they’re not around it’s just… awkward silences and quiet air. 

You get too in your own head, so eager to impress the pretty boy beside you, that you end up putting your foot in your mouth.

Steve doesn’t seem nearly as apprehensive. Instead, he’s beaming at the fact that he’s finally got you alone. He doesn’t have to worry about quieting Dustin when he gets too loud or shoving Eddie away when he forgets what personal space is. It’s quieter with just the two of you — warmer, cozier, easier.

“Wanna go down to the food court?” he wonders, honey eyes sparkling when he looks your way. “I know you haven’t eaten anything yet, so…”

Your eyes narrow, accusing and playful. “How would you know that?”

“Uh, ‘cause I know you,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. “I basically have to force you to eat every morning.”

“That’s not true!”

“It so is!” Steve giggles and it’s heaven to your ears, the exact sound of honey. “That’s why I hate not opening with you. ‘Cause if I’m not around to force you to eat the other half of my Poptart, I’m just, like, worrying if you’re withering away or not.”

Your face burns hot. Your heart swells with a similar warmth that borders on painful. You didn’t think he cared so much about you — or that he ever thought about you outside of work or the occasional hangout.

“Fine,” you concede with your arms crossed over your chest, trying not to seem as flustered as you feel. “Let’s go to the food court.”

Steve grins. He follows you in stride when you start to head that way. “Cool. We can go get one of those disgustingly good burgers or something.”

“For breakfast?” you wonder with a light-hearted laugh.

“Yeah! Like, one of those crazy huge ones, you know? The patties are, like, the size of your fist— make a fist.”

You do. You ball your fingers and hold them up between you. Steve holds onto your wrist for further inspection, fingers long and warm and soft. You swallow.

“Bigger than your fist,” he corrects with a laugh. The sweet sound is drowned out by the swell of yelling teenagers. They talk so loudly and over one another that their conversations become a meaningless drones.

Two in particular shove at one another, laughing loud like it’s fun. One of them almost barrels into you — long blonde hair, tight shirt, tighter jeans, and cologne so potent it stings your nose. He just narrowly misses you, mostly because Steve’s there to yank you out of the way.

The boy’s gentle grip on you tightens. He pulls you close until you’re stumbling into his side. With a strong arm wrapped around you, he shouts at the roughhousing teens — “Watch where you’re going, assholes!”

The scrawny boys walk on ahead of you. They seem apologetic, halfway scared at first. When they realize Steve’s not rushing to beat their asses, they chuckle about the whole thing and keep punching each other.

You’re still frozen in shock — not so much of fear anymore, but of how tightly Steve’s holding onto you. It’s an embrace of the firmer kind, a touch so solid you feel immediately safer inside it. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close before. The teenage girl in your heart starts to spin.

“You okay?” Steve asks when the anger ebbs.

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing tightly and forcing an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know?”

He nods rapidly, then notices how close he’s holding you. Fearful that he’s made you uncomfortable, he uncurls his arm from around you and takes a small step back. “No, I know! I just wanna— I just wanna make sure, you know? ‘Cause I know you don’t like… all this.”

He waves his hands vaguely out beside him.

You’re immediately cold without him holding you. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate for the lack of him. 

“Yeah, but… It’s not the rest of the world’s fault that I’m scared of everything,” you say with another forced laugh, shifting your weight on your feet. If you could melt into your oversized sweater, you would. “It’s mine. So I can deal with it. I have to deal with it.”

Steve nods, slower this time and with a silent sense of understanding. He steps closer to you and shrugs. “I think the least I can do is make it a little easier on you… And I feel like I’ve been doing the exact opposite of that all day.”

“That’s not true,” you argue with the shake of your head.

His chocolate eyes widen. You’re rarely so assertive. “No?”

“No,” you answer, softer this time as you grow sheepish all over again. Your unsure gaze darts from your dirty sneakers to his twinkling eyes until it makes you dizzy. “You’re actually making it more bearable for me, so…”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” he nods with a smile, breathless because his chest is swelling with pride. He knows the world can be a little much for someone as soft as you. It’s good to know that he’s the exception to all that. 

He gets lost in the way you look at him for a moment too long. He clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, do you still wanna go get food?” he asks, pointing off beside him. “We can find somewhere quiet to eat so we don’t have to deal with teenage douchebags the entire time.”

Your heart lurches into your throat. It’s practically your love language — spending time alone in a quiet space, with no overt need for conversation or people to fill the void. 

You nod, trying and failing to hide the beam on your face. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

—————

The quiet place in question is a photo booth on the halfway vacant, furthest end of the mall. Closed curtains, small spaces, and entwined breaths. It smells like his deep cologne, your perfume, and a freshly cooked meal. It’s too easy to forget that there’s a whole world outside of here.

You sit twisted on the bench, facing Steve with your burger trays in front of you. You pluck salty fries from the plate with a trembling hand, distantly fearful that you’re not supposed to be eating here. You think being so close to Steve is worth the risk.

“Is this the day you were expecting to have?” Steve asks with a lopsided grin. He takes a big bite of his burger right after and gets mustard on the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you answer, giggling as he swipes the stain away with his tongue. “But not because it’s bad.”

“Hm?” he hums to egg you on. He’s got too much of a mouthful for anything else.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, equally nonverbal as you chew on a handful of fry crumbs. You swipe your palms together to dispel the grains of salt. “I’m having more fun than I thought I would, actually.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief. “Spending time with me? Alone in a photo booth? That’s a good time to you?”

His tone makes you self-conscious. You feel a little shameful, like a child, because you don’t need much to be entertained. You get all warm with embarrassment, too. Being alone with Steve has always felt like climbing mountains — something short of an adrenaline rush that makes you think you could conquer the world. Maybe you’re too small in comparison to do the same for him.

“Yeah,” you shrug in an inaudible murmur. “I don’t know— I just… I like spending time with you, you know? I don’t really care what we’re doing.”

Steve’s chest swells. From a girl who too often keeps to herself, inherently nervous and incessantly frightened of being a burden, it’s more of a proclamation of love than he ever thought he’d get from you.

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he confesses with a crooked pink grin, internally praying his cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel.

He holds his half-eaten burger out towards you. You knock yours with his, clinking them together like champagne glasses. He takes another too big bite. You go to do the same but get a whiff of the sleeve of your sweater before you can. 

“God, I smell like a teenage boy,” you groan, only half-playful. The nose-burning musk from the kid from before has seemingly stuck itself onto you. Like fruit and sage and wood and vanilla, every scent ever made combined.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you definitely smell like bodyspray,” Steve affirms, scruffy cheeks jutted out from the burger in his mouth.

“I think I’ve been tainted,” you giggle, a quieter sound compared to his boyish laughter. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

You’re saying it to be nice, but you watch him get all shy about it when you take a bite of your sandwich. He shifts on the bench, like he suddenly can’t get comfortable. When he rubs his palms on his thighs, you can’t tell if it’s because of the salty fries or because they’re clammy.

“Yeah— I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he stammers with an apologetic twinkle in his eye and a gaze that can’t quite meet yours. “Just so you know. I was just trying to—”

“Save me?” you interject.

Steve smiles when he sees how softly you’re looking at him. He shrugs. “Well, I was gonna say ‘pull you from the line of fire,’ but sure.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I didn’t mind. It felt nice, actually— you have really warm hands.”

“That’s ‘cause yours are always ice cold.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re not holding them,” you blurt before you mean to. 

You freeze mid-bite, eyes wide in distant horror as your blood runs cold. In a desperate attempt to break away from the awkwardness you caused, you muster a trembling smile. “I’m kidding,” you murmur, halfway hidden behind your burger.

You weren’t.

Steve knows this, too, so he smiles. 

He’d been thinking about it all day, in truth — how he was gonna get to hold your hand without having to stick his foot in his mouth to ask you. Turns out, a series of unfortunate events and an impromptu date in a photo booth was all it took. And he’s grateful. For all of it.

“No, you weren’t,” he teases, fingers as warm as his smile when he wraps them around yours. He holds gently onto your hand — even though it makes eating a little harder, even though your fingers are cold, even though you tremble.

[fablesam]

picture you ;; sam winchester (part two)

cw;; smut!!!! bloodplay, biting, demon blood, violence, angst, dark!!! sam

a mere week after your first meeting, you and sam had learned each other in and out. you’d, more importantly, learned the solution to your overarching question. the two of you had worked tirelessly to find the truth about your abilities, if your theory was correct about demon blood increasing your power. 

you could see sam starting to slightly spiral, hardly sleeping, his desperation growing with each step you took in the right direction. he’d told dean he met someone, and that he wanted some space, a chance to ‘do his own thing’ for a while. this was, judging by dean’s reaction, incredibly out of character for him, but you didn’t argue. it was what you’d always wanted, the two of you alone in your apartment, totally invested in each other. 

you were sat on the edge of your bed, brushing your hair after a shower when sam entered your room, a borderline manic excitement in his eyes. “i figured it out,” he told you, pacing as he read from his journal. “we can summon a demon here, trap it in a devil’s circle. then we can extract some of its blood, store it to drink from, and send it back to hell. it’s the safest way, it’ll make sure you don’t get hurt,” 

you felt a pang of  sadness that he wasn’t even worried about himself getting hurt, but it was overshadowed by the happiness you felt that he’d considered you in his plan. “summoning a demon seems a bit extreme,” you said after a moments contemplation, “are you sure about this, sam? i don’t want to do anything we can’t take back,” 

he came to your side, dropping the journal beside you, taking both your hands in his and looking down at you. “this is what you wanted,” he said pleadingly, “don’t you want to see what we’re capable of? let me show you,” he pressed a brief, searing kiss to your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours, “we could be so much more, just like you said. you showed me the truth, so let me show you the way,” 

you nodded, lost in the trance of his soft brown eyes, swept up in the feeling of his hands on yours. he could’ve told you to do anything in that moment, and you were sure you would’ve. you were, not for the first time, grateful that sam was so good at his core. if he’d wanted to, you feared he could’ve had anyone submit to him, had anyone do his bidding. but if you knew sam, and you definitely did, he would never. 

he was all the goodness in the world, wrapped up in your own personal daydream. sometimes, it seemed impossible that such a shining example of purity had demon blood running through his veins, the same as you. he always had your best interest at heart, always worried what the consequences of this journey would come to, always thought about how this might affect dean. it only made you love him even more. 

“we’ll do it tomorrow,” he told you, sure as anything, “is that alright? are you ready?” you pulled him down to you, so you could rest your head on his chest from your seat on the bed, breathing in the scent of him. it never got old, the smell of chai and cedar and rain. “i’m ready,” you mumbled into his shirt, eyes closing as he stroked the back of your hair lightly, a contentedness you’d never known flowing through you, “are you scared?”

you didn’t have to look up to no he shook his head, “no, i’m not scared,” he murmured, “i guess i’m just curious. it feels wrong, still, but i know i’ve just been conditioned to feel that way. we shouldn’t be ashamed of anything,” “that’s right,” you hummed, “should we get some sleep?” 

he nodded, untangling from you, kissing the top of your head gently before going to the couch, where he’d insisted on sleeping the entire week. he’d been so adamant about not moving too fast, not taking advantage of you. it had only solidified your belief that sam was, inherently, better than you. you watched him go, tucking yourself under the blankets, ignoring the worry forming in your stomach. 

when you woke in the morning, sam was already well at work, clambering around your living room holding objects you’d never even seen before. “sam?” you yawned quietly, “what’re you doing? what is all this?” he turned to face you, as if he’d been caught, “just some things for the summoning. i have it all ready, i think, i just have to arrange everything,” 

you paused to actually look around, noting the taper candles lit on your floor, the encircled star scribbled onto your ceiling. “what is that?” you asked, unable to tear your eyes from it. “devils trap,” he said like it was the most natural thing in the world, “i’ll have to say an incantation to summon it, and we need to get it under that circle, okay? i just need you to stay back, i’ll take care of everything,” 

you forced yourself away from the setup, nodding, “and you’re sure about all this?” you asked hesitantly, “i mean, really sure?” he smiled slightly, nodding, “i’m positive. you know i wouldn’t do anything dangerous, right?” “of course, sam,” and you really did know that. you trusted him more than you trusted even yourself, for in some ways, he was more yourself than you were. 

he pulled you into a hug, his chin resting against your head, his arms circling you. “everything’s gonna be fine,” he said softly, “can you go in your bedroom for me? don’t want you to have to see this,” you pulled back just enough to look up at him, pupils dilated from his closeness, “wanna help you,” you said surely, “this isn’t your task, sam. it’s ours,” 

so you watched as sam paced the room, journal in hand as it had been the night prior, the candlelight making him look more angelic than usual. he’d cut a small incision on his wrist, letting the blood drip out into a copper bowl, placing it in the middle of the circle before he started reading. 

the energy in the room was palpable, an uneasiness spread through your apartment that you hoped would clear up soon, when all this was done. “daemon, esto subjecto voluntati meae!” he finished, and with that, the candles were out, an eerie stillness in the room. you looked to sam, eyes wide, when you saw it out of the corner of your eye. 

not so much an it as it was a fully fledged man, looking as human as you or sam, adding to your already heightening sickness. “sam winchester,” the thing said, “if you wanted me here, all you had to do was ask,” the voice was so painfully real, so clear, so human, your bones ached with the chill that came over you.

sam’s jaw tensed, and he took a step closer to it, so precise and calculated you didn’t even notice as he succeeded in his plan, backing it under the devil’s trap. “finally giving in?” it sneered, “gonna come home, sammy?” his eye twitched at this, and you thought for a moment his focus might break, but it only seemed to get more intense. 

“don’t call me that,” he snapped slightly, hands trembling, “i need you for one thing, and that’s it. then i’m sending you back where you belong,” “oh, i’m cowering in fear,” the demon said sarcastically, turning to take a step towards sam, but seemingly stopped by an invisible force. he looked up, irritation clear on his face as he discovered the trap, his jaw nearly as tense as sam’s. “so what’s your angle here, boy?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, “gonna kill me, hm?” 

“not gonna kill you,” sam took a step closer, the knife in his hand catching the light streaming through your window, “just hurt you,” you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he slashed the thing’s wrist, an animalistic howl leaving it’s mouth. sam looked to you, and without any words passed between you, you knew he needed the bowl. you hurried to his side, handing him the copper bowl he’d used to summon the demon, watching, entranced, as he let the thing’s wound trickle into it. your pulse increased with every drip-drop of the thick blood, your mouth watering in a way that almost horrified you. 

you had to resist the urge to surge forward, to take what your body so clearly craved, more concerned with obeying sam’s request than you were with drinking from the source. when the bowl was filled, you watched with a distant fascination as sam read more from his beat up journal, and the only evidence that the demon had ever been there was the ichor on sam’s hands. 

“are you alright?” were the first words that left his mouth, as if he hadn’t just summoned and dispelled a demon right in your living room, as if this was all completely normal. “i’m fine,” you nodded, eyes still focused on the bowl of blood in his right hand, “are you alright?” a small smile crossed his lips, and he nodded, “i’m fine, sweet girl,” he led you back a few steps, free hand on your lower back as he guided you to sit on your couch. 

you sat down, looking up at him with expectant eyes, “do we drink now?” he reached down, his left hand resting on your cheek lightly, cradling your face, “you’re so desperate, aren’t you? so brave,” he hummed, his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip, “open your mouth, alright? if you start to feel anything that scares you, you tell me. can you do that?” 

you nodded, feeling almost dizzy as he instructed you, anticipation making you giddy and electric, “i can do that,” you said softly. “that’s my girl,” he smiled softly, hand shifting to your jaw as he brought the bowl to your mouth, resting it between your lips. you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before opening your mouth, letting the blood trickle onto your tongue. 

the very second it hit your bloodstream, you were on fire. a soft sound, almost a moan, left your throat as you opened your eyes, enjoying drinking in the sight of sam watching you almost as much as you were drinking the blood. “is it good?” he murmured, looking as blissful as you felt, “do you feel good, sweet girl?” you just nodded, too drunk on the venom to respond, and a whine of protest left you as he pulled the bowl away slowly, as if he was tapering you off of it. 

“sam,” you panted softly, “god, it feels-” you stopped, unable to even describe it, to even do it justice. it felt like you had been in a coffin for a decade, like you were finally free, like someone brought you back to life after years. it felt like heaven and hell had collided inside you, like you were a vessel to something far greater, like everything you’d ever gone through had led you do this very moment. you watched as sam drank from the bowl, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, a groan muffled by the liquid. he was messier than you had been, scarlet drops down his throat, and when he pulled the bowl away, you nearly whimpered at the way it shined on his lips, the pink skin tined a deep red.

 you thought he’d never been more beautiful than when he smiled down at you, his teeth tinted pink. “oh,” the sound was almost too much for you to bear, the breathless whine that left his throat, “this is everything,” “sam,” you whispered, afraid if you spoke fully, you might cry from the intensity, “it’s so much,” 

“oh, i know,” he murmured, his hand returning to your jaw, the other tracing through your hair gently. you were slightly startled by how much better he seemed to be handling it, but you were entirely too far gone to worry over the implications, “you’re gonna be just fine, baby. this is how we’re meant to feel,” 

before you had time to question it, or too even think twice about his statement, he was pulling you up, his lips on yours in an instant. you kissed him back with a fever, your hands coming to wrap around his shoulders, all six foot four of him being pulled even closer to you. he turned, never pulling his mouth from yours as he sank into the couch cushions, pulling you into his lap like you weighed nothing. 

your entire body was alert, your back arched into his touch, his hands trailing over every inch of your skin. “you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled as he pulled away, trailing kisses down your jawline, biting gently at the delicate skin of your throat, “so fucking perfect,”

you knew logically this couldn’t be heaven as you tilted your head to give him more access, blinking up at the devils trap still on your ceiling, but it didn’t make you believe it any less. nothing between you was holy, you knew that. this was something else entirely, each kiss and mumbled curse awakening some sort of ancient, dangerous power inside you. you could swear you felt the earth shift as he rolled you over, laying you back on the couch, kissing down your chest like a man possessed. 

your hands were in his hair, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you looked down at him with heavy lids and glossy eyes, “want you so badly, sam,” you murmured, “come kiss me again,” he smiled up at you, looking deceivingly soft for just a moment, reminding you of the first few visions, “i’ll come kiss you again, you impatient girl,” he scolded, a soft tease in his voice, “just busy right now,” 

he pulled your pants with him the lower his kisses trailed, the cool air of the room raising goosebumps along your hips and thighs, “you want me here?” he hummed, pressing his fingertips to the now soaked cotton of your underwear. you nodded almost frantically, too worked up to be embarrassed by your neediness. he smiled against the skin of your thighs as he pulled the material off of you, tossing them into the floor without a second glance. 

no, neither of you were holy, but you could’ve died and gone to heaven or hell with sam’s mouth on you, wasting no time before he was lapping you up just as he had the blood. he groaned against you, his hands digging into your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. 

“sam,” you moaned, back arching off the cushions, your hands pulling at his hair desperately. you weren’t even sure what you were begging for, too far gone from the feeling of him paired with the newfound power coursing through your veins. he pulled away just long enough to readjust his arms, continuing to lap at your clit as he sank two fingers inside of you, curling them just where you needed him. “oh, god, sam,” you whimpered, your nails scratching at his scalp. he pulled back, gazing up at you with your wetness coating his lips, “god’s not here, baby,” he tsked, “it’s just me and you,” 

your eyes rolled back when he took your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking a long stripe against you. the feeling of his fingers stretching you out and his devilishly skilled tongue was enough to have you coming undone, his name falling from your lips like some desolate prayer as you rocked your hips against his face, all but grinding on him as you rode out your high. 

he pulled his fingers out slowly, holding eye contact from between your thighs as he took them into his mouth, taking his time sucking them clean. you could’ve come again from the mere sight of it, from the idea of him savoring the taste. he crawled back up to you, kissing you hard enough to make you dizzy for a moment, the lingering taste of the blood combined with the taste of you making you moan into his mouth. 

he reached between you, pushing down his jeans and boxers with one hand, the other holding him up as he kissed you. “you want me to fuck you like this?” he murmured as he kissed your cheek, such a soft movement in the frenzy of need, “or you wanna ride me, hm?” 

the desire to see his face, to watch him underneath you as he came, had you pushing his chest gently, pushing him back to sit down. he grinned up at you, his eyes hazy, hands settling onto your hips as you moved to straddle him. you reached between you, taking him in your hand, barely able to wrap your fingers around the width of him as you pumped him slowly. 

his eyebrows knit in pleasure, his head tipping back onto the back of the sofa, his breaths growing heavier. seeing him like this, coming unraveled from your touch, made whatever sickness you both had so incredibly worth it. you rested one hand on his chest as you slid down onto his thick cock, kissing him to hold in your gasp at how much he stretched you. 

he bit your bottom lip as he kissed you, his nails digging into the flesh of your hips as he bucked his hips into you, moaning into your open mouth. he licked the blood from your lip, sucking it into his mouth, holding you there as he fucked up into you. you were a mess above him, your head thrown back as you rode him, grinding your hips down for some friction. 

“you feel so fucking good,” he moaned hoarsely, pulling your head down to his neck, wrapping an arm around you to hold you, “like you were fuckin’ made for me, baby,” “i was,” you pant against his skin, sucking little marks down his neck, “yours, sam,” 

“i know you’re mine,” he mumbled, thrusting into your harder, pulling your hair just hard enough to make you look at him as he fucked you stupid. his lips found their way to your neck, biting gently, and you whined softly as he broke skin just slightly, enough to send a tinge of pain to the surface.

“got that demon’s blood pumping through these veins,” he placed another soft bite just above your shoulder, “bet i’d get stronger drinkin’ from you, baby. you think so?” you just nodded, too far gone to process his words as your hips rolled against his, gasping as he reached an even deeper spot inside you, “you wanna make me stronger, don’t you?” he hummed. 

“yes!” you moaned, clenching around him, “yes, sam, fuck,” he smiled against you, thrusting into you harder, his movements slowing. he gave you no warning as he sank his teeth into your shoulder, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the feeling. “fuck,” he groaned into the bite, his tongue laving at the blood trickling out, “you taste so good, sweet girl,” 

you could feel yourself getting dizzier as he pulled the blood from you, your entire body buzzing with alarm. “sam,” you whimpered, your hips slowing against his, “too much,” he pulled away, despite the frenzied look in his eye, pressing a gentle kiss to the area around his bite mark. “blood tastes almost as good as that pussy,” he mumbled as he pulled you into a kiss, his hand on the back of your neck as he quickened his movements. 

your thighs were trembling, vision swimming as you came undone a second time, nearly screaming as he fucked you through it. “good fuckin’ girl,” he panted, digging his hands into your thighs, “so close, baby,” you rested your head on his shoulder, bouncing your hips just enough to get him to the edge, looking up only to watch his expression as he filled you. “oh, fuck,” he groaned, his brows pinched, cheeks pink and mouth tipped open, his thrusts slowing. you kissed him as he stilled inside you, tracing your fingertips down his arm, anything to keep touching him as much as possible. 

he pet your hair gently, fingers running through the length of it, tenderness lacing his every moment. “is your shoulder alright?” he asked softly, trailing his free hand over the skin. “mhm,” you nodded, still catching your breath, “i’m fine, sam. was so good,” “yeah?” he smiled slightly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, pulling you into his chest, “get some sleep, baby. you look like you’re about to crash,” 

you just hummed quietly in response, nuzzling your face into his neck. the events of the day replayed in your fizzled brain, skin still tingling with the effects of the blood, your body aching. sam continued to stroke your hair soothingly, his other hand tracing down your spine almost absentmindedly. “gonna keep you here with me forever,” he said softly, almost too quiet for you to hear, “we’re gonna be so fucking strong, baby. you have no idea,” 

you let sleep take you before you could question the tone in his voice, the darkness creeping into his tone. after all, you were the one who put it there.

[maodear]

Yapping about the contestants Guardian’s!

TW: Abuse,drugs,SA and etc.

So not many people talk about the Guardian’s in alien stage. I will be making opinions on each, but I will probably write more about the guardians when my art-book comes. Which would have all the lore I need.

Shine 🩷 (Mizi’s guardian

As we all should know, Shine is the most friendliest and definitely the most sweetest Gurdian. She loves humans and has curiosity to them. Mizi and Shien definitely had the most closest thing to a Mother and Daughter relationship out of everyone else.

Shine wanted nothing but good for Mizi, which is probably why she wanted her to be in Anakt Garden. Mizi had talent for singing and dancing. I am sure that if Shine knew that Mizi would have to suffer and go through pain. She would have not done it at all.

During round 5, Shine was watching. And you can tell how she felt looking at Mizi. She looks so sad :((

In all of Mizi’s birthday art or official art with Shine. She looked so happy in each one, always smiling or having fun. Shine loves Mizi like a normal person would love there pet. It seems messed up but Aliens see humans as Pets. But Shine still loves Mizi as her

Urak 🖕 ((Tills guardian

Urak is the Segyein of Till. And I will say he sucks the most. He treats Till horribly, in all ways. Mentally and physically. Urak has had other of his pets compete in Alien stage, but he says that Till is different from all of them because of his personality. He goes on saying that He only kept Till alive because of his Musical Talent he has. Urak believes that a Gurdian should learn right away what their pet’s strengths are to see if they are worthy.

In round 6 flashback Urak is forcing Till to sing “Oh my clematis” which Till refused to, which Urak throws a bottle at him, pinned him to a table. And when Till does break free, He attacked another segyein. Urak then once again assisted in restraining him. It’s said that Till was also SA in that flashback.

When Urak was asked about round 6 in an interview, Urak says that the only thing that matters is winning. It doesn’t matter how, if he wins it all worked. He also does expressed that it’s possible for Till to beat Luka, given how much Urak invested in him. (Which ages perfectly))

As much as I hate to admit. Even if Till is alive or not. I’m glad he lost because Urak has set another of his pets for Failure. And I hope he knows that, no matter how much he abuses, drugs or whatever shit he does. It won’t work because he will always set them in failure. Over and over again and it’s his fault.

Apparently Unsha and Urak have romance..??

Unsha🐁 ((Ivan’s guardian

Unsha is the Segyein of Ivan. Unsha isn’t physically abusive to Ivan but definitely is mentally. He has horrible has Urak since both Mentally and Physically hurt as much.

Unsha bought Ivan for his wife since it was her birthday. Ivan was choose because of his eyes which he found intriguing. Unsha also does mention that he had just begun to venture into the pet human entertainment business, so the timing was perfect for him. Which makes me believe that Ivan was Unsha’s first Pet.

If I’m correct In an interview, Ivan claims that Unsha is well known and him and Urak had nothing more then a business relationship. Saying they weren’t close in any way. Nothing more nothing less.

When asked for his thoughts on Ivan's impulsive actions during Round 6, Unsha replied saying he was disappointed that Ivan essentially forfeited the round, and he thought Ivan had a lot of potential even before Alien stage. He also admitted to being curious about what Ivan was thinking during around 6.

He closes the interview by saying he felt like he learned a lot being with Ivan, and it was worth the loss. He lastly that he doesn’t intend to participate in Alien stage again anytime soon.

Phan💀(Hyunas and Hyun-woo Gurdian

Phan is the Gurdian Segyein of Hyuna and Hyun-woo. Not much is shown or known of her since she was never brought up.

I did find that Heperu has an interesting to her similar to how Luka is obsessed with Hyuna.

((Not my picture! I don’t own the Art-book yet!)

Heperu🖕🖕🖕 (Lukas Gurdian

Heperu is the Gurdian Segyein of Luka. I might get blasted for this but I believe he’s the worst one yet. He claims that he had made Luka overcome fear, which makes me wonder what kind of things he had done to Luka. As we know Luka as went through a test with was monitoring his heart rate, and stoping his heart completely. Luka barley shows any kind of emotion. But he was crying in that art, Heperu disgust me.

Heperu ego is very high I can tell, because in a interview he claims that all of Lukas achievements and his talent is because of him. And he should thank him always for making him perfect. He always puts Luka very high, saying he will win no matter what.

In one of Lukas official art it shows Heperu shadow being in a position in which looks like kissing.?? And his hand was caressing him. Luka also looked quite young too which just gives me more creeps.

In the music Video all-in Luka kissed Hyuna, which I want to say. Was because of Heperu. Usually when someone was SA they see as a normal thing and do it to another person. That would explain why Luka kisses Hyuna.

Luka has been out through so much stuff because of Heperu and like everyone else has. Luka as very right to be the way he is. Because of Heperu and how cruel he is, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Till did become the same way.

Heperu also has a thing for Phan, having an attraction to Phan, just like Luka has an attraction to Hyuna??

Neigh🐛 (Sua’s Guardian

Not much is known from Neigh, but from what we know is that Niegh sees pets as nothing more than dolls. She dressed them all out usually the same. In a white dress like a doll.

In Neigh’s profile it’s shown that she has 0% interest in Sua. Probably because Sua is a copy of everyone else there. They are all the same as emotionless dolls. With no feelings or opinions.

——<3

Pretty sure that’s everyone? When my art-book arrives I will make any other post on the Guardians probably.

I may hate every Guardian except for Shine, but they hold a lot of meaning in the story which I appreciate.

Thanks for taking your time to read all of this <33

[luv3ji]

Lessons from Love cook

ZoSan, Zoro x fem!reader

You'll only get married once. That's why Zoro wants to make sure that everything is memorable and perfect—even if it means that he’ll need to ask for help from the cook.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: ~1,000

Content Notes: Zoro x fem!reader, Lighthearted rivalry, wedding fluff, minor physical comedy, Zosaaaaan!!(⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

Zoro is about to do something incredibly stupid.

That in itself wasn’t new. He had charged into battles he probably shouldn’t have, gotten lost in places he definitely shouldn’t have, and pushed his body past its limits more times than he could count. But this?

This was humiliating.

And yet, here he was, standing in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed tightly over his chest, scowling at the blond bastard currently humming to himself while stirring a pot.

Sanji. Of all people.

The longer he stood there, the worse it felt. He should just turn around and figure it out himself. How hard could it really be? You pick someone up and carry them. Easy. But every time he tried to picture it, he kept overthinking. What if he dropped you? What if he held you wrong? What if he made a complete fool of himself in front of everyone on your wedding day? No. He wasn’t going to risk that.

He exhaled sharply through his nose before speaking up. “…Oi. Cook.”

Sanji didn’t even glance up. “Booze at 8 o'clock in the morning? That's a new record for you.”

“It’s not that,” Zoro muttered, shifting his weight awkwardly.

That got Sanji’s attention. He turned, giving Zoro a once-over, eyes narrowing slightly.

“…Then what?”

Zoro clenched his jaw, barely getting the words out. “I need you to—” He gritted his teeth. “—teach me how to properly carry a woman. Bridal style. I want it to do it for her.”

The silence that followed was absolute.

Then—

Sanji wheezed. Not just a chuckle. Not just a smirk. A full, body-shaking, knee-slapping, air-gasping laugh.

Zoro’s entire face twitched. “I will actually kill you.”

Sanji barely managed to compose himself, wiping at his eyes as he grinned. “Oh, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I swear to god, cook—”

“You—asking me—for help?!” Sanji clutched the counter, still grinning like an idiot. “Oh, if only I had a camera. This moment deserves to be immortalized.”

Zoro was so close to storming out. But he forced himself to stay. He had already come this far, and if he left now, Sanji would never let him live it down.

“Are you done?” Zoro growled.

Sanji sighed dramatically, stretching like this was the greatest inconvenience in the world. “Alright, alright. Let’s do this properly.”

Properly, as it turned out, meant humiliation.

Sanji led him to the deck—the damn deck, where anyone could walk by at any moment. Then, to make things worse, Sanji stood in front of him, arms outstretched.

“Alright, moss-for-brains,” he said, grinning. “Pick me up.”

Zoro froze. “…What.”

“If you’re gonna learn, you need to start with me.”

“I am not carrying you.”

Sanji raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So what was all that about ‘help me, Sanji, I’m too dumb to figure this out on my own’?”

“I never said that.”

Sanji smirked. “You might as well have.”

Zoro gritted his teeth. Every instinct in his body told him to just walk away. But he had already come this far. And the wedding was only a few days away. If he messed this up, you’d probably laugh, and he didn’t want to disappoint you.

So, grudgingly, he stepped forward, gripped Sanji’s back and knees, and lifted.

It was too easy. He barely felt the weight. But that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that Sanji—Sanji, the absolute bastard—wrapped his arms around Zoro’s neck, batted his eyelashes, and whispered, “Oh, my hero~”

Zoro dropped him.

Hard.

“ACK—!!” Sanji hit the deck with a loud thud, groaning in pain. “You absolute asshole—”

Zoro dusted off his hands. “Lesson’s over.”

“Oh, no, it’s not.” Sanji grabbed his ankle. “You want to do it for her, correct? Do it right.”

By the time the actual wedding arrived, Zoro thought he was prepared.

The ceremony was beautiful. The sun hung low in the sky, painting everything in gold. The crew had gone all out. Franky built a gorgeous wooden arch, draped in fabric, with lanterns strung across the deck. Robin and Nami helped you into your outfit, Luffy barely managed to sit still, and Chopper fussed over everyone, making sure things were perfect.

Zoro didn’t care about any of that. He cared about you. And as you walked toward him, smiling so bright it made his chest ache, he knew that he’d do anything to keep you happy.

Then came the moment.

Slowly, carefully, he stepped forward. His arms slid under your knees and back, and with one smooth motion— He lifted you.

Perfectly.

Zoro looked down at you, heart pounding. “Comfortable?”

You smiled. “Very.”

For the first time all day, Zoro let himself relax.

The crew went wild.

“SUUUUPER BEAUTIFUL!!” Franky sobbed uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face.

“BRO, YOU NAILED IT!” Usopp fist-pumped. “I mean, I totally called it...you know, since I gave him secret training—”

“You did not,” Nami scoffed, smirking. “But I’ll admit—that was romantic.”

Robin chuckled softly, watching with amusement. “He’s quite the natural.”

“ZORO IS SO COOL!” Chopper yelled, practically bouncing.

Brook tilted his skull. “Ah, if only I had eyes to cry tears of joy! Yohohoho!”

Luffy, sitting on the railing, grinned wide. “Oi, Zoro! You actually did it!”

Sanji, leaning lazily against the bar, took a long drag of his cigarette. “Not bad, mosshead,” he said, smirking. “Guess you’re not completely useless.”

Zoro rolled his eyes, but as he held you in his arms, he couldn’t even be mad. Because at the end of the day, it had all been worth it.

Even the damn cook’s help.

[astridthevalkyrie]

a weak heart | rafayel x reader

“Let’s go all the way, tonight, no regrets, just love,” she sings, and her voice is a little pitchy but Rafayel could listen to it all day, “we can dance, until we die, you and I, we’ll be young forever!” How very wrong she is about that last part. It’s almost funny. Someone with such a weak heart shouldn’t be this cocky.

cw: reader has she/her pronouns, fluff, light angst, rafayel being bratty but also down incredibly bad

word count: 1.4k

There’s a dip in the bed that alerts Rafayel to her presence. He’d already known she was inside, even though her footsteps were hushed. He’d heard her walk in and feed Reddie, and he almost gave up the vow he made to himself not to engage with her just so he could snark about how she was more invested in seeing the fish than in seeing him.

(Of course, she very well may have gone to the studio to look for him and decided to feed Reddie while she was already in there, but. He doesn’t want to be reasonable right now. He wants to be upset with her. And she gives him so little to get upset with because she is and always has been some kind of angel descended from the heavens with an embarrassingly weak heart, so he needs to take whatever chances he can get.)

A soft touch to the back of his neck is followed by a quick kiss to his cheek. “Rafayel?”

He doesn’t answer.

“I know you’re awake, Raf.” Well, his eyes are open so. Great observation, idiot. “You’re not even gonna talk to me?”

The window he’s staring through is so fascinating all of a sudden, all bright and stale with an afternoon light he’s painted a billion times. Literally a billion. That’s how old he is. One would think he’d learned to be patient in that time, but one would also think that after waiting for a woman for centuries, she could cut him some slack and not make him wait any longer.

(Not that she knows that but. Still.)

“It was really last minute.” She kisses his cheek again, hovering over him and he wants so badly to gaze up at her, because that will be something he’s never painted before—he’d title it Requiem For A Bland Thursday and Thomas would sell it for a couple hundred million and he’d tell her that and she would only ask him to buy her a rainbow popsicle because there isn’t a greedy bone in her body.

“I was going to text, Raf, I promise I was, but I’d pulled a night shift already and my phone was dead and Xavier and I both left our chargers at home, and we didn’t have a chance to stop and charge anyways.”

Always an excuse. Always a valid excuse that he can find no fault with. But it isn’t fair. The people she works with—Tara, Xavier, Captain Jenna who she’s definitely a little in love with—get her attention and her time every hour of every day. If there’s a mission to do, she’ll drop everything and do it. And Rafayel gets the crumbs, the vacation days and the after hours, whenever she remembers him enough to spare her time.

What’s worse than that is the fear. He doesn’t let it show through text, always opting to send whatever he thinks will make her smile, but everytime hours pass without a response from her, fear seizes his poor heart. All the twisted and cruel things that could possibly happen to her start playing on repeat in his head.

“Rafayel,” she pleads, tilting her forehead against his temple. “Please, look at me?”

His chest burns hot.

When he finally looks up, he finds he’s absolutely correct in his hunch. She presents like a masterpiece, hair mussed from whatever fights Xavier clearly couldn’t protect her from. Her eyes shine tiredly, lighting up when they gaze into his. And Rafayel’s heart releases a painful thump, thump, thump because if he could spend eternity with her looking at him the way she is now, he’d easily live the rest of his immortal life the happiest person in the universe.

She leans down and pecks his lips apologetically. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

(It’s what she always does.)

“It’s what you always do,” he says, not harsh but definitely blasé enough to make her wince. “Why should this time be any different?”

A sigh escapes her, and he starts to feel that old guilt again. To hold her up to a standard because he fell in love with two other versions of her, and to give her grief for being late as though she wasn’t doing an incredibly important job keeping people safe—it’s not exactly fair. To either of them, but specifically to her.

And yet, it’s not like he spends his time with her imagining a princess running through the sands calling his name. This version of her makes his heart pound all the same, whether she’s absolutely beating his ass at the card game in the cafe, or resting her head on his shoulder from behind while he paints, or when she’s in his bed just like this.

The biggest similarity is that damn sick bleeding heart.

“What do I need to do for you to forgive me?” She tilts his chin up with her index finger, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. Rafayel could never imagine being spoiled like this even if he was to be sitting on the throne in Lemuria right now, with jewels and gold surrounding him and beautiful maidens offering their hands. 

Somehow, this is more. Somehow, this is better.

“There’s nothing you can do,” he answers flatly, “and there’s nothing I can do. So let me be mad at you in peace.”

Her response is to brush the bangs from his forehead and drop a kiss to his forehead as well. “You make me feel like I’m in high school all over again,” she teases quietly, a small smile playing on the corner of her lips now. “My teenage dream.”

He groans. “Don’t—“

“Let’s go all the way, tonight, no regrets, just love,” she sings, and her voice is a little pitchy but Rafayel could listen to it all day, “we can dance, until we die, you and I, we’ll be young forever!”

How very wrong she is about that last part. It’s almost funny. 

Someone with such a weak heart shouldn’t be this cocky.

“Is this my punishment?” His nose wrinkles. “To hear you sing terrible renditions of already overplayed songs?”

Her giggle is the real music to his ears. “You’re an artist, you should know talent when you hear it.”

“I do,” he insists, realizing too late that he’s giving in. The lightness in his stomach is a bit frightening too. This is the same woman who carved out his heart. This is the same woman who needed to do nothing but flutter her lashes at him to make him give in to her any request. If, tomorrow, she were to ask him to rip his own scales from his body and place the bloody pieces in her palm, he’d do so without question.

Her hand comes up to rest on his cheek and he leans into it with a soft sigh almost on instinct. Such power she possesses, over the God of the Sea, and she’s the only person who would never even fathom abusing it. 

“You’re cold,” she murmurs, caressing his cheek. “Why do you always keep your house so cold?”

(So that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can—)

“It’s better for blood circulation.”

Her thumb gently brushes over his lower lip, like she’s mapping out her quest to treasure. “That’s like, objectively not true, Raf. My friend’s a doctor, he told me that cold is better for short-term pain and warmth is better for—“

“If you’re cold,” he interrupts, “get under the sheets.”

A brilliant, blinding smile lights up her face as she does just that, slipping under next to him and laying down at a slightly elevated level so she can tuck his head into her chest. Warmth runs through him like a flood, even the leather of her uniform is comforting because it’s smooth and light and smells just like her. Her lips press to the top of his head.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers, running her fingers through his hair, “I’ll do my best to text you and let you know next time, okay?”

And if she doesn’t, Rafayel thinks, curling into her more, they will still end up like this, quiet words and mutual teasing, memories of the past that he will forever be cursed by and she will never be burdened with, a heart that dances to the tune of her commands, wrapped up in each other, and absolutely nothing will change.

Because who really has a weak heart?

(It’s not her.)

[weareapackofstrays]

Come Light Me Up // Ji Changmin

Genre: Non-Idol college au, classmates to lovers?

Pairing: Changmin (Q) x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Masturbation. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: 3,305

A/n: Loosely inspired by a dream I had last night. Wrote this one quickly so there will probably be some mistakes. Graphics by @saradika-graphics!

It was the start of a new semester. While the first day of classes made some students nervous, you looked forward to it. Everything smelled like fresh books, paper, and ink. There were only two more semesters left until graduation and you couldn’t contain your excitement. A few of your classes this semester were completely online, which was convenient for you since you had to take on a few extra shifts to pay for this year's books and labs. 

After clicking the zoom link to start your first class of the day, you scan over the 20 or so faces blinking back at you for anyone familiar. While you recognize a few students from previous classes, one unfamiliar face grabs your attention most. Your eyes fall on a man who you had not seen before. He is dressed in a simple black t-shirt and grey sweats. You notice he is sitting on his bed as if he just woke up and his ruffled dark hair definitely looks suspiciously like bedhead. He was too casual and it irked you. While you weren’t a perfectionist, you still felt like how you presented yourself on the first day of class set a precedent for the rest of the semester. You force your attention away from him to focus on your Professor’s greetings. 

As class progressed you kept catching yourself staring at the student who you learned was named Changmin. He seemed so uninterested in class and it looked like something was distracting him off camera. It annoyed you and you weren’t sure why. Did you find him attractive? Of course. Changmin was very good looking, but he gave off douchey vibes so you did your best to pay him no mind. A task that would prove difficult.

The days pass by and you still find yourself totally bothered by this guy. Your eyes kept finding Changmin on the screen every time you attended class. And to make things worse, even though he never seemed like he was listening to the lecture, he still got every answer correct when the professor asked. It was starting to piss you off. I’m sure if anyone was watching you they could visibly see your annoyance and unbeknownst to you, someone was watching. Sometimes you would catch Changmin’s eyes staring right into the camera and you could swear they were looking back at you. But there was no way…right? 

If there was anything he was paying attention to, it was you. Changmin noticed you on the first day of class too and every time you popped up on the screen he would look you over. He found it amusing the way you would be dressed up, make up done, even for a Zoom class. Like today for example, your hair was in a half updo, clipped back with a large pink bow. You were wearing what he assumed was either a blouse or dress with puffy white sleeves that only annoyingly teased your cleavage. He couldn’t tell if you had lipstick on, but your lips looked particularly glossy…and delicious. Changmin could tell you were the type to be a teacher’s pet and the idea of corrupting you started to quickly creep into his mind. He watched every facial expression of yours, noticing how excited you would get when you knew the answer to something and the way you’d grow agitated every time he beat you to the answer. Your perfect facade faltering before him. He especially loved the way your lips would pout when you were trying to concentrate. It drove him crazy. He could no longer hold back so he decided to take a chance.

-

During the third week of class, your Professor announced that there would be a test coming up this Friday. You tried to remain calm, but the thought of a test so soon gave you anxiety. A ding from your zoom chat pops up interrupting your thoughts. It’s a private message from a classmate. You squint at your screen to see who the message is from. Surely, you must be misreading. It was from Changmin?! 

Changmin: hey, wanna study together? 

You have not actually interacted with Changmin before, in fact, you're not even sure you have ever exchanged words. The extent of your interactions was usually him saying something that bothered you and you rolling your eyes at him several times throughout the class. You continue to stare at his message. Hesitating for a few more moments, you finally start to type. Changmin watches you intently, anticipating your reply.

Y/n: Why do you want to study with me?

Changmin smiles while reading your message. 

Changmin: because we’re probably the only two in this class who actually give a shit 

You snort, forgetting your audio is on and quickly rush to mute yourself. Changmin watches your cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and laughs. Even though the conversation is private, you still look around at the other classmates nervously wondering if they know what’s going on.  

Changmin: you’re cute

You bite your lip to hold back a smile not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Changmin watches you roll your eyes at him, as you usually do, and it ignites his hunger further. 

Y/n: Fine.  Changmin: i’ll zoom you tomorrow night? Y/n: Sure, 8pm tomorrow then. Just ping me. Changmin: 8 is kind of late, no?

You glare at him briefly before responding.

Y/n: I get off work at 7:00 so I will need some time to get back and change. Changmin: sounds good. I’ll call you at 8pm sharp. Can’t wait!

Ignoring his last message, you turn your attention back to the Professor. Changmin can’t erase the grin on his face for the rest of class.

-

The next day you rush home after work to hop in the shower. Butterflies start to dance in your belly, but you do your best to shoo them away. You consider dressing up like you usually do for class, but worry Changmin will think you’re trying too hard. Ugh, why do you care what Changmin thinks, Y/n? You settle on a t-shirt and shorts with some cozy socks. Looking at the clock on your laptop, you start to feel the nerves as the time approaches 8pm. You continue to look at the clock and your watch every few seconds until finally the Zoom call notification pops up on your desktop. Shooting up from your chair, you quickly take a look in the mirror one last time to check your appearance before answering. 

“Changmin.” You say simply, lacking any emotion.

“Y/n,” he responds with a hint of amusement. 

You grab your textbook and open it. “I figured we could start from the beginning to refresh our memory first before diving into the most recent lectures.”

Changmin smiles, placing a pair of black rimmed glasses on. He looks good and he knows it. “Whatever you say.” He reaches for his book as well and opens it to the first chapter. “I’m all yours.” You grimace and give him a pointed look. He laughs and you watch the way his Adam's apple bobs on his long neck. He crosses his arms in front of him and your attention shifts to the curve of his biceps. Changmin is wearing a white t-shirt and what look to be his usual grey sweats. He notices your attention and tilts his head curiously. “Are we going to get started?” Your eyes dart up to meet his realizing you’ve been caught looking at him. You clear your throat and thumb through a few pages. 

Changmin actually turns out to be a decent study partner and you're shocked at how thorough his notes are. After about 20 minutes into your study session, Changmin decides he’s bored and wants to change the subject.

“Why do you get dressed up for every class?” You look up from your note taking and cock an eyebrow at him.

“I could ask you the same.” 

“But I don't.” 

“Exactly.” You throw him a sarcastic smile. He smirks in response.

“So…?” He’s waiting for your answer. You sigh and place your pen down. 

“Because I can.”

He nods. “Fair enough.”

“Why do you care?” you ask, resuming your writing.

Changmin places his thumb and index finger on his chin to ponder. When he doesn't immediately reply you look back up at him. “I suppose I just find it interesting when the rest of the class are practically in pajamas or off camera. Are you trying to impress someone?”

“Maybe I just like looking my best.”

“But right now you look pretty casual.”

You look down at your attire and internally curse. Maybe you should have dressed up. As if reading your thoughts, Changmin quickly adds, “Not that you don’t look good. I like the way you look tonight too.”

You’re not sure how to reply to his flirtation attempt so you try to get back on task. 

“I think the Professor is definitely going to have chapter 3 on the exam. He dedicated two of our lectures to it so I think we should review our mutual notes.”

Changmin pushes back on his chair, balancing on the back legs. He places his hands behind his head. “Mhmm,” he simply hums in agreement. You look up from your book and notice Changmin’s shirt has ridden up, exposing his midriff. His stomach is taut and toned. You try to continue your thought, but end up stuttering over your words. He reaches down and rubs his abs and that’s when you notice the veins leading down his stomach disappearing into his briefs. Changmin’s legs are slightly parted, giving you a full view of his lean body.

“Um,” You try to compose yourself, but struggle. “We..um..page 46…” Words fail as you start to imagine where those thick veins lead to. 

“What was that, Y/n? Didn’t quite catch what you said.” You look at him and frown. He’s teasing you and you know it.

“What are you doing?” You ask, impatience in your tone. 

“I see the way you watch me in class, Y/n.” Pleasure shoots down your spine and you shiver. 

Attempting to feign ignorance, you turn away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Yes, you do. I watch you too. Every time I see you roll your eyes at me I think about stuffing my cock down your throat to teach you a lesson.” You drop the pen in your hand. 

“Wh-what did you just say?” 

Changmin leans into the camera. His eyes shift down to stare at your mouth. “I think about the way those pretty lips would feel wrapped around my dick.” He closes his eyes briefly and moans as if imagining it right now. “Drives me wild. I look forward to seeing you every class. Thinking about ways I can piss you off.” 

“Changmin…you shouldn’t say these things,” you squeak.

“I’ll stop if you really want me to.” He leans back in his chair again and crosses his arms. The veins on his toned forearms poke out and you gulp at the thought of them around you, his hands gripping your neck. You shake your head to rid yourself of these thoughts. Changmin smirks and meets your eyes. “Do you want me to stop?” He palms his groin and you realize he’s hard.

“Fuck,” you say to yourself. Changmin places a hand around the outline of his dick and starts to stroke himself. You bite your lip as you watch him, feeling yourself growing wetter with each stroke. His eyes are on you as he slowly rubs up and down. A low groan escapes his throat.

“No,” you finally say.

“No what?” His voice is hoarse. 

“No, don’t stop.”

Changmin pushes his sweats down slightly to give you a better view of his hard dick and for better access. 

“Like what you see?” You nod enthusiastically and he chuckles.

“Does baby wanna see my cock?” You nod again.

“Use your words, Y/n,” he says sternly.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“I can’t hear you, baby.”

“Yes, I wanna see it.” Your voice is more confident. 

“And what will you give me in return?” 

Meeting his eyes, you ask, “What do you want, Changmin?” 

“Take your shirt off.”

Completely committed to whatever this game is, you agree to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you just in your pink lacy bra. 

“Mmm so pretty. What type of pants are you wearing?” 

You tilt the screen of your laptop to give him a view of your whole body. You’re in a pair of sleep shorts. Pushing your desk chair out of the way, you stand. Changmin looks you up and down, finally getting the chance to admire your full form.

“Take your pants off, sweetheart.” 

You shake your head. “Your shirt first.” 

Changmin considers refusing you, but he thinks your demanding tone is hot and does as you say. His body is chiseled. You’re surprised at how tiny his waist is and it makes your mouth water. Starry eyed and mouth agape, you stare unabashedly now as he resumes touching himself.

“Y/n, take your shorts off.” He is growing impatient with each touch of his hand. You stand and drop them to the floor, revealing a matching pink lace thong.

“You got all dressed up for me, baby?”

“No…”

“I bet you wanted to show it off. Hoped this would happen, huh? Fucking slut.”

You scoff. “You’re so full of yourself.” Despite your words, you can feel how aroused you are. Feeling bold, you sit on the edge of your bed and spread your legs, giving him a view of your clothed pussy.

“Fuck, Y/n.” He starts to stroke himself faster.

“Take your pants off, Changmin.” 

“Ooh, say my name again, baby!” he moans.

“Please Changmin,” you whine as need starts to take over you.

He stands and slides his sweats off. The head of his cock is peeking out of his briefs and you lean towards the camera a little for a better view. You want to touch yourself, but still feeling shy, you resign to rubbing your thighs instead. He sits back down, keeping his legs spread for you.

“I want to see your boobs.” 

You chuckle and unhook your bra without hesitation. You're horny and want this as much as him now. He watches it fall to the ground. You move closer to the camera so he can see your breasts better and now his mouth drops. You smile at the way his body reacts to you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Y/n. I just want to wrap my lips around your tits. Swirl my tongue until your nipples are hard.” You suck in a breath trying to hold back a moan. “Are they hard right now?” He wonders aloud.

You gently rub over your nipple knowing full well they’re erect. “Yes,” you say.

“Fuck I bet they taste amazing.”

“I wanna taste you, Min.” His eyes widen, surprised by your candor. 

“Yeah, baby? Want me to fill your mouth with my come?” You nod eagerly.

“Let me see you,” you demand.

He shakes his head. “Need you to earn it, baby girl. What do I get in return if I take my cock out for you?” You take a moment to think, then sit back on your bed. Leaning on your hands, you spread your legs wide again and dip your fingers into your panties. A breathy moan escapes you at the contact. Changmin groans in response. “Yeah, baby. Touch yourself, like that.” You toss your head back at the feeling of your fingers on your sensitive clit. “Don’t take your eyes off of me, Y/n.” You face him again and continue to rub while he stares. 

“Well?” You moan out. He nods understanding your question. Changmin lifts his waist and pushes his briefs off. His cock springs back, slapping against his abs while precum dripples down the sides. He looks so hard and you can tell he needs relief. You lick your lips at the sight of his long cock. “Touch yourself too, Changmin. Get off with me.”

“Fuck yeah, baby.” He spits in his hand and starts to fist his cock, squeezing his red tip with each pump. You pick up your pace, the sounds of your arousal and his slick fist echo around you. Your breathing starts to quicken and you can’t stop the moans that leave your lips. “Stick your fingers inside and pretend it’s me.” You do as you're told and try to reach your sensitive spot.

“Mmm not enough. I need you, baby,” you whine.

“I know, I wish I was there with you. Next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah, next time I’ll come over and fuck you for real.”

“Come over now then.”

“But you look so pretty touching yourself for me.” He tries to match your pace as you push in and out of yourself spreading your wetness back over your clit.

“Feels so good, Min. Wish you could have a taste.”

“Oh, fuuckkk. Baby, have a taste for me.” You pause momentarily, never having tasted yourself before, but you want to please him. Removing your fingers, you insert them into your mouth and sigh at the taste on your tongue. Changmin curses and starts to pump faster.

“Such a, fuck…such a good girl.” He can’t hide his moans anymore and you're surprised at how high pitched they are. It turns you on further so you return your fingers to your clit to rub harder. “I’m close, Y/n. So fucking close, but I wanna come with you.”

“Wait.” Impatiently, you take your panties off giving him a full view of your pussy. Changbin bites his lip as he looks over your body, watching the way your face contorts as you pleasure yourself. His orgasm is fast approaching.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby. I’m going to destroy you.” His words help bring you closer to your release, pleasure building with each bump to your clit. Your ministrations increase and you can feel the band about to snap. 

“Min, I’m, I’m-” tears start to spring at the corners of your eyes. You’re so close. “Ah, ah, ah, ah.” Your cries increase. 

“Yea, baby, fuck! I’m gonna come too.”

“I’m…Changmin, I’m…coming!” You gasp. Changmin shouts your name as he comes with you, spilling white hot liquid over his hand. He continues to pump himself through his orgasm and you do the same. Moaning and rubbing until your thighs start to shake. He looks into your eyes as the two of you try to recover your breathing. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. 

“Y/n, you’re so beautiful,” Changmin says suddenly. The compliment makes your heart flutter. He looks down at his covered hand, amazed at how hard he came. 

“If I was there I’d lick you clean,” you say.

“I bet you would. Guess you’ll just have to show me next time.”

“Next time.” You agree. 

Changmin walks off screen to wash his hand so you put your shirt and shorts back on. When he comes back, you sit back in your chair at your desk. Changmin notices how flushed your cheeks are. His attention makes you feel hot all over. You both sit in silence. He struggles to think of what to say next and you giggle at how nervous he suddenly seems. 

“Not getting shy on me now are you, Min?” He rolls his eyes at your teasing and you both laugh.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Not sure if this study session was too helpful…” 

Shaking your head, you chuckle before giving him a wave. “See you.” 

“Good night, Y/n.” Changmin returns your wave.

“Good night.” You both smile at each other before closing out the zoom. 

End.

xx

[anxiouswildfire]

wait, are you still taking fanfiction prompts? if so, I'd love a fic where arthur notices how bulked out and super mature looking merlin had got by the end. like... when you see someone every day you don't always notice those sorts of changes until something happens and it all hits you at once. and I imagine arthur would have Feelings about it. I feel like you'd kill it <3

I am still taking fanfic prompts!

As to gay panic Arthur at Merlin’s awesomeness.. it sounds awesome. Here’s a little thing I wrote. I’ll let you know if I turn it into a longer fic or the like.

The thing about seeing someone every day is that you don’t notice the little changes. Well, even big changes are hard to notice when they come in the form of gradual change.

Arthur had been making fun of his scrawny little servant for years now. 10 years in fact. He’s seen that same servant grow in height as well as character. And vice versa.

Arthur himself had grown into his swordsmanship. He had the honour and true courage to go with his fast acting fighting.

And it wasn’t like he missed all the change that happened to his friend. He grew at least an inch and learned a lot about politics.

Arthur prided himself on his observation skills. Others would say he’s blind as a bat off the training grounds, though. He could sense a bandit coming from a mile away, but many made fun of him behind his back for the obvious lack of awareness of Merlin’s love for him.

So of course, he didn’t think that he missed anything about Merlin. He watched his manservant all the time. Not in like.. a creepy way. And no, gwaine, not in a lovesick way either.. definitely not.

But despite all that, arthur had to admit that there were a few times in his life where there were things he did not notice.

The first was on some random day in late spring. Arthur was training when he got the bright idea to put merlin in some armour and onto the training field.

“Alright, merlin, all you got to do it hold out the sword and try not to die.” Arthur instructed, trying not to laugh. “I’ll correct you on your form as you fight Lancelot.”

Lancelot looked up from where he was standing. “Me?”

“I trust you to go easy in him, the poor man.”

“Hey I’m not that useless!” Merlin insisted, standing there holding the wooden sword in front of him in surprisedly good form.

“Of course you’re not, Merlin.” Lancelot said easily.

The two fought. Lancelot went easy on him, yes, but merlin was not too bad. Lancelot was one of the best and yet even he was working up a sweat.

Soon Merlin threw off his helmet, “it’s way too hot for this.”

“Come on merlin.” Teased Arthur, “no bandit will wait for you to take off your helmet!”

“Okay, yeah whatever.” He got back into action

Despite Merlin’s decent attempt, Lancelot soon got the upper hand.

Merlin pulled off his chain mail and then his shirt.

Arthur’s protests died when he saw Merlin. It wasn’t the first time he saw the other man shirtless, but this time seemed a bit different. Sweat drew his eyes lower and he had to pull himself away. Merlin wasn’t the skinny guy of 18 anymore. He had filled out over the years, with chores and with good food, he was no longer scrawny. Arthur gaped at the other man. When did his best friend become.. hot? The scars of battle covered the man’s chest, running down. Some were obviously deep wounds that healed over time, others newer.

“Whatcha looking at, sire?”

“..Where did you learn to fight?” Arthur asked after a slightly too long pause.

“You taught me.”

“Oh.” After one last glance at his best friend’s torso, he threw his shirt back at him. “You have chores to do, Merlin.”

Merlin was handsome, when did that happen?

Then of course, there was the time when Arthur asked for advice and merlin gave some really sage answer and Arthur later that night panicked.

Since when was my merlin.. wise? Since always right?

But then he remembered how serious he looked and how mature he took the topic. He realized that merlin actually knew when it was tiem to joke amc when it was time to be serious. And, man, was his serious face hot. Wait what?

Merlin was smart and mature and wise, when did that happen?

Then there was the time when merlin was making fun of him.

“Arthur, you cabbagehead.” Merlin was saying, completely normal thing for him to say so why it struck Arthur was a mystery

He looks so.. cute. Wait. Arthur stopped his thoughts. No way did he just think merlin was cute for calling him a cabbagehead. That was so uniquely Merlin. And oh my goddesses.. he’s in love. he’s so in love with his own best friend and he didn’t even notice.

“Hello, earth to Arthur? Heh earth arthur earth arthur.” Merlin snorted. “Almost rhymes.”

“You are so stupid and I am so madly in love with you.”

Merlin blinked, turning red. “What?