#if I forgot you I'm sorry bc I tried

[clowningaroundmars]

Hobie1610 pt. 3

part 3 has finally arrived!!! at a faster rate than part 2 but a bit of a wait nonetheless lol

not entirely sure how long this lil story will go on for but hope y'all are enjoying this ride regardless, whether it ends on the next part or in 3 more chapters ldfjkdhf

in this installment: thrilling action, a high stakes chase, and we get to learn more abt our beloved hobie jones! yippee!

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 2 here<

>pt. 4 here<

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

By some miracle, Hobie did not mention the suit to Miles once they started texting semi-regularly.

Unfortunately, they also couldn't really make their lunch date (date? God, get it together, Morales. It is not a date…) as soon as Miles would have liked, due to a million different things getting in the way of them setting a solid day aside to chill together.

Just his luck, of course.

But in the hallways, Hobie actually deigned to give Miles a passing smile every now and then. They didn’t ever get to hang out like they did for those precious few moments on the first day of school, but Miles didn’t feel the crushing weight of guilt every time he saw Hobie in his same classroom anymore. What a relief!

So Miles was mostly okay with how things were going anyhow, even if the hangout ended up falling through and they both decided not to go in the end. He was able to patrol and do his homework in blissful peace for the first time in months.

… Kind of.

That look on Hobie’s handsome face as he looked down past Miles’ coat collar though…

That still ate away at an anxious part of Miles’ brain whenever he had the time to sit down and really let his worries manifest.

No time to think about that now, though. Miles was suited up again on a school night, hoping to get at least an hour’s worth of patrolling in before security at Visions noticed he was absent from his dorm room. He hoped Ganke would be able to cover for him like he always did.

It was yet another cold evening out in New York City, and Miles was steadily covering the edges of Brooklyn, heading towards Manhattan to do a quick sweep through Central Park like he did on occasion. There was always something going on in Manhattan, especially during the evening.

Miles decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek before calling it a night and heading back to Visions.

So away he went-- now fully in his Spiderman element-- vaulting and soaring over buildings, showing off every now and then by doing silly flips and tricks mid-air for the opportunistic New Yorkers looking to snap their Spiderman Sighting of the day. A little social media promo never hurt anyone, after all…

Spiderman finally swung down onto a tree branch on the western side of the park from a street lamp and was just about to lower himself down as inconspicuously as he could, before immediately feeling the tingling electricity of his Spider Senses race up and down his spine, giving him the usual headache along with it.

He crouched down quietly on a branch and watched as a familiar lanky figure streaked across the path underneath him onto the grass and beyond.

Whoever this runner was, he was fast. And hot on his trail was a gang of burly bumbling assholes cursing up a blue streak as they gave chase.

Spiderman’s eyes stayed glued to the fast runner like they were a lifeline. His senses honed in on the person and he erupted out of the leaves of the tree with one mighty leap, sailing through the air to shoot a web out and swing his way on over to the excitement.

Several joggers, people walking dogs after work, and mothers with baby carriages exclaimed and shouted as they were barreled into by the gang of men trying to keep up with their moving target. The runner didn’t seem to be giving up, though, as their long legs sent them flying over bushes and rocks and lounging people as gracefully as a ribbon in the air.

It was indeed getting dark soon again, but the darkness didn’t really affect Spiderman’s senses at all. His mask helped him fine-tune his powerful vision and anticipate the runner’s next moves.

It looked as though they were trying to make their way up towards the Great Lawn from Cedar Hill, but whether the person was planning to make a break for the now-empty Delacorte Theatre or the Metropolitan Museum Of Art… or beyond? That was the million dollar question.

Spiderman didn’t want to lose the person in case they happened to just be a petty thief, since that would be a quick and easy problem to fix. But as he silently chased down the runner alongside (and unbeknownst) to the gang, his suspicions gave way to some other... ideas.

Namely, that the runner seemed young, a bit too young for someone to be pissing off this many fully-grown gang members.

He pushed through his confusion and made a break for the theatre the second he guessed that the runner was pivoting in that direction.

The trees were getting thicker the closer they got to the Belvedere Castle and Spiderman eventually resorted himself to hoofing it, mindful of sticking to the shadows of the foliage that surrounded them on all sides.

He was super grateful now more than ever that his suit happened to be his signature sleek black and red, rather than the tacky and hyper-visible reds and blues of many of his Spider counterparts (sorry Peter!)

Once he confirmed that the suspicious target was indeed planning on hiding in the bleachers of the massive amphitheatre, he shot up a web to hoist himself into the infrastructure from the tall stadium lights. From there, he positioned himself a bit closer to the fray, hearing the loud and heavy boots of the gang following the runner, not far behind.

Then, he squinted into the dusk as he watched one of the entrances from his perch up high... and almost choked on his own saliva!

In comes none other than Hobie Motherfucking Jones, streaking down several steps like a shooting star, clutching onto�� something tucked under one of his arms. He was breathless, panting loudly, and heading straight for the Belvedere Lake.

Upon hearing the heavy bootfalls get ever closer with every passing second, it seemed that Hobie got the idea to attempt a last-minute juke by throwing himself underneath the stairs that faced the lake, tucking himself as tightly as he could under the massive stage at the center.

Spiderman watched all of this happening with wide eyes, holding his own breath in. He prayed that the ugly thugs didn’t see Hobie’s sneaky last-second move, but climbed up high onto the stadium lights and prepared to swing down anyhow, just in case.

What was Hobie even doing here, out at this hour? And what the hell did he manage to steal that was so important to these men anyways? It was quite a chase they were caught up in, running nearly two entire miles all the way up to the amphitheatre just to catch him, and that was only from what he could see when he swung into action.

The group split up and pulled out flashlights, determinedly searching the bleachers and corners as best they could while the sky rapidly darkened above them.

From right below the webbed crime-fighter, Hobie poked his head out from the shadows and took a peek.

No, no, duck back down! Spiderman wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.

No one knew he had followed them and he was safe high above the action where he balanced himself on the metal bars that housed the bulbs. His muscles tensed as the bright beam of light from one guy’s flashlight swept a little too close to Hobie’s head. Damnit.

Spiderman couldn’t just sit there all day! He had a friend to save, stolen item be damned!

He rechecked his web shooters furtively and took aim.

He set his sights on another stadium light pole across from the stage, figuring that if he was quick and agile enough, he could time his swing well enough to scoop Hobie up from where he was hidden and avoid any detection. Hopefully.

Seemed like a solid enough plan though, until Hobie just. Shot out from his hiding place all of a sudden, the heels of his boots rapping loudly against the cement and echoing all around the stage as he made a beeline for the lakefront.

Shit!!!

Miles wanted to kill him. Those guys didn’t even suspect he was hiding where we was in the first place!

... Okay, plan B!

Spiderman’s brain whirred at breakneck speeds as he watched the thugs exclaim loudly and give chase yet again, this time much closer to Hobie than they ever were before.

Without thinking, he swung down from his perch and bowled over a couple of men in his haste to simply just… grab Hobie like a damsel in distress and fireman-carry him back around the gang to get a good line of web onto a nearby pole.

The men all cursed and shouted in surprise of course, flashlight beams waving around everywhere.

One of them even yelled, “what the hell was that?!” like a character in one of his dad’s favorite cheesy slasher movies.

Spiderman was too fast for them, a black blur simply whizzing by as he grabbed Hobie and hoisted the both of them up into the air with a mighty leap. Hobie yelped in surprise, grunting from the effort, and seemed to let whatever he stole slip out of his hands which then clattered loudly onto the ground below.

The thugs rejoiced then, shaking fists at Hobie and his rescuer as they flew up to the top of a tree and detached themselves so they could fall onto the stadium light opposite from Spiderman’s initial hiding spot.

Spiderman didn’t stop until he attached another web up to the lights and dangled there for a bit. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he shifted Hobie off of his shoulders and let him slide slowly onto his side, his friend’s wiry arms clutching him tightly.

They both watched with rapt attention at the goings-on several feet below them.

The thugs congregated around the fallen item, picking it up and turning it this way and that. It looked like a briefcase, though with the low lighting it really could’ve been anything. It was only when one of them-- the biggest and burliest of them all-- shouted out another colorful swear word that Hobie then seemed to come back to himself again.

He squeezed Spiderman’s shoulders with his arms and kicked at him. They swung a bit from the wiggling.

“Ouch!” Spiderman hissed, as quietly as he could. He was hoping the dark dusk would conceal their position now as long as they made No Noises, but even that wasn’t guaranteed.

“Go, go, go, go, man! Let’s get out of here!!” Hobie hissed right back into his ear, his face mere centimeters away from Spiderman’s mask.

Spiderman stubbornly ignored the heat radiating out from his face at that realization and jerked this way and that, looking for an easy escape from their conundrum.

Flashlight beams danced around the ground before finally swinging up to the trees and catching sight of a pair of shoes dangling in the sky.

The biggest and meanest one of the bunch pulled something out of his pocket and took aim.

Bullet! Spiderman’s senses screamed into his cerebellum.

“Goddamn,” he huffed ruefully as the shots rang out. Hobie panicked. “Bullets for us? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

Hobie clung onto his hero for dear life. “Brother, if you do not get a move on from here, we are both gonna get turned into fish filets!” He shouted into Spiderman’s ear.

“Ow. Okay,” Spiderman grumbled, sticking himself to the side of the pole they dangled from and readjusting Hobie so that he clung onto his back instead.

He took a deep breath and narrowly dodged a bullet that whizzed unnervingly close to their heads. Hobie yelled again.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Spiderman began, speaking quickly. “Hold on, okay? Hold on tight. Just hold on and do not let me go for even a second!”

“On it!” Hobie shouted back, legs kicking a bit before wrapping themselves tightly around Spiderman’s torso.

They both took a breath and then Spiderman jumped, gaining some air before twin webs erupted from his web shooters-- aimed directly towards the seating area entrance.

Together, he and Hobie rocketed from their airborne position towards their escape route once the fluids connected to solid architecture. To his credit, Hobie only whimpered a little bit through the ride.

The thugs had no chance! They stumbled on tired, aching legs towards the very door the two teens had left out of, complaining and cursing some more as they searched through the steps and made their way out onto the theatre’s general admission and concessions area.

They searched and searched through the bushes and trees, going so far as to even check the sculptures near the structure.

After several tense moments of gruff shouting back-and-forth, the search eventually died down until only a couple of the men were left sweeping the area once more. The others had already given up their fruitless endeavor and called it a night.

“Fucking kids, man. What the hell,” Spiderman heard one of them grumble before kicking at the Romeo and Juliet statue angrily and following the rest of his cohorts down the path towards the Great Lawn again.

Hobie and Spiderman let out matching sighs of relief then, happy to have given the men the slip by managing to hide behind the giant 3D Delacorte Theatre sign right above the box offices. Lucky for them, most people don’t think to search behind lit-up signs, so they went completely undetected.

“… Wanna let me know what you were doing here this whole time? You could’ve gotten killed!” Spiderman breathed. He wanted his tone to be sharper, more authoritative… but he was just so glad to see his new friend still in one piece instead of riddled with more holes than a chunk of swiss cheese!

Hobie scoffed, tucking a loc behind his ear and sitting back. Thanks to the lighting of the sign and the other park lights in the area, Spiderman could see him digging around in his coat pocket and fishing out-- a USB drive?

Hobie held it up triumphantly, sleepy down-turned eyes glistening with pride.

“I got it! Suckers! Screw them by the way, I’m not the thief, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

Well. He was sneaky, alright. Spiderman had to hand that to him, at the very least.

He sat back on his heels as well and exhaled. “Fine. I believe you. What’s on that drive?”

Hobie squinted at him then, really giving him a good once-over now that the excitement had officially died down. “…Damn. You’re Spiderman,”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, hi, nice to meet you, I’m your friendly neighborhood Sp-- ugh, seriously man, just tell me what all of that was back there or else I’m webbing you up and calling the cops.”

“Hey!” Hobie objected. “Like I said already, I’m the good guy here. I snagged this from those guys because I caught them snoopin’ around the museum over that way. I followed them and found out they were stealing this!”

Spiderman bobbed his head. “Okay? And what’s on it?”

Hobie turned the drive over a bit in his hands, admiring it. “Most likely? Security codes, schedules, maps. I’ve been uh… investigating those dudes for a while after watching them sniff around the museum for a few days now. It looks like they were just art thieves plannin' a heist, so I jumped on the opportunity to deliver justice myself.”

Hobie’s mischievous grin was met by Spiderman’s disapproving stare.

“And why didn’t you just call security and let them know? Like I said, super dangerous thing you did back there! If I wasn’t there to save you, you could’ve died, man.”

Hobie pocketed his USB drive again and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, for a vigilante hero with cool superpowers, you sure are a square.”

Spiderman sat up and placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Oof, ow. That’s mean,”

“Yeah, it is, but you know I’m right. If a kid like me walked up to some cops and tried to warn them of a possible art heist, you just know those pricks’ll laugh in my face and do literally nothing about it. I had to take matters into my own hands!” Hobie jutted his chin out defiantly.

Well. Couldn't really argue with that, especially considering PDNY’s less-than-stellar track record of taking preventative measures most times. All that they would most likely do is nod along to whatever Hobie was telling them and chuckle, shaking their heads as they walk away. Not their problem.

Spiderman rubbed his chin. “Point taken," he conceded. "So what’s your plan now?”

Hobie glanced around, as if he was checking for any eavesdroppers. “I’m gonna submit some photos to a journalist I met online before turning this in back to the museum. The journalist’ll help get those guys behind bars once a story's published and some actual adults talk to the cops. I am going to go collect my reward,”

Spiderman blinked. He had a bunch of questions swimming in his head, but the first question out of his mouth was, “what reward?”

“The reward for turning in precious security info, genius!” Hobie tapped at his forehead with a finger and grinned. “If I get to negotiate with them, I can get some money to save up and-- uh. Nevermind. Listen, are you gonna rat me out or not?”

Miles’ brow creased behind his mask. “… I don’t think I will. Sounds like you’re doing the right thing… mostly.”

Hobie cheered silently. “Yes! Okay, I take it back, Spidey. You are cool!”

Spiderman sighed. “But first, I need to know you’re gonna be safe. Like, actually, and that you’re not gonna get followed home.”

Hobie shrugged nonchalantly and pushed more locs out of his face again. “Yeah, you can walk me home if you want,”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, that’s not the only thing I mean. I need you to promise me that you’re not gonna get into stupid stunts like this again. That was so dangerous and you really could’ve gotten hurt!”

Hobie exhaled as well. He stared intensely into the mask’s giant white lenses for a beat, making Spiderman shift uncomfortably.

Then, he held up his pinkie. “… Fine. I won’t do stupid shit like this again. I promise.”

Spiderman blinked a few more times and hooked his pinkie onto Hobie’s. “Uh. Okay, cool! Cool, that’s what I wanna hear, considering keeping New Yorkers safe is my job! I just wanna see you safe, that’s all. No more art heists, you gotta leave that to the professionals to handle,”

“What, professionals like you? You might’ve not even gotten to them in time before they snuck off with like millions of dollars worth of art, bro.”

“Anyone ever tell you you are just so mean? Dontcha have a little faith in me? The ‘vigilante hero with cool superpowers’?” Spiderman shot back.

They both laughed.

“Seriously, though. I do appreciate the fact that you saved my ass back there,” Hobie admitted, eyes cast downwards for a second. “I was actually gonna throw this thing into the lake and hope this drive got eaten by like… a fish or something.”

“And what about you?” Spiderman smiled despite himself.

“Well,” Hobie shrugged. “If I died, I died. I guess,”

It was Spiderman’s turn to scoff now. “You have a family, man. Don’t be ridiculous. You have friends and family that would miss you!”

Hobie’s expression turned dark, his entire face shadowing for a second before being replaced by cool detached nonchalance. A slight hint of annoyance stayed put underneath.

“… My family’s barely my family. I don’t have any friends, either. Don't worry about me.” Hobie admitted in a clipped tone. He stood up abruptly and started doing some casual stretches.

Spiderman stood up as well, knowing fully well how this song and dance was going to go.

He would never admit it out loud, but he’d seen his fair share of self-destructive citizens throwing themselves into the middle of danger in the short time he’d been doing this whole vigilante thing. He had talked many a melancholy or manic person from tossing themselves off of multiple different buildings, different bridges, stopped them from “falling” onto train tracks.

And as loath as he is to admit it, this Hobie’s particular brand of cool detachment was entirely too familiar to him as well.

A flash of his uncle Aaron’s face lit up a part of his brain that he hadn’t really allowed himself to acknowledge since that fateful day. He quickly stamped that out.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “… Well. That sounds pretty depressing, man.”

He didn’t notice Hobie’s shoulders hitch at that phrase.

“But,” Spiderman continued, “You got people out here who care about you, even if you don’t know it. You’re still so young, you could be ending your life before you even meet, like, your favoritest person in the whole world, right? So just do me a quick favor, take care of yourself. For me. Live long enough to meet your favorite person, alright?”

Spiderman put on his best comforting expression that he could despite the mask most likely getting in the way of Hobie fully seeing it. He hoped his words were enough to convince him not to dive off the deep end, at least not anytime soon.

It seemed to work at least a little bit, because Hobie looked back at him with a much warmer-- albeit hesitant-- expression.

“Can I ask you something?” Hobie finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Uh, sure.” Spiderman replied.

“Do you know about a kid named Miles Morales at all?”

The air was sucked out of Spiderman’s lungs right then as he floundered like a fish for a minute, brain working into overdrive to make his answer sound both intelligent and convincing.

“U-uh, maaaybeee? I dunno, I meet a lot of New Yorkers everyday and I don’t get many names, yanno? S-sounds familiar, but sorr--”

“I knew it,” Hobie exhaled a laugh and surged forward to embrace Spiderman with both arms.

Spiderman stood frozen in his place, arms held in mid-air as he worked to process this.

“Uh. What--”

Spiderman felt Hobie’s chin dig into the side of his cheek a little as he turned his lips to his ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I’m not telling anyone,”

Miles felt his whole world turn on its axis before shattering completely.

Oh no, no, no, no, no! Goddamnit!

Miles pushed Hobie off and stepped back, holding his hands up. “Oh hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. I dunno what you’re thinking or who you think I am, but--!”

Hobie sighed loudly. “Miles, I saw your suit.”

The world screeched to a halt.

Hobie picked his gaze back up off of his feet and even seemed apologetic, almost. “I, uhm. Like, back on the roof. At Visions. I wasn’t… a hundred percent sure I saw it, since it could’ve been any logo at all, but. Well, you’re a pretty bad liar too, y’know that, right?”

Miles sucked in a slightly shaky breath, gulping loudly. “Uh. W-well,”

Hobie smiled shyly. “You, uh… you’re like around the same height as Miles Morales, anyways. And you sure sound a lot like him, too.”

Damn. Damn it all.

Miles spun this way and that, placing his hands atop his head as he panicked slightly. “H-Hobie, you cannot tell anyone else about this, whatsoever. Do you understand? No one. At all. Or we’re both dead!”

Hobie held his hands up, lines creasing in his face. “Look bro, you’ve got secrets of mine too. We pinkie promised, remember? I don’t break promises.”

Miles didn’t point out that the promise was so that Hobie would stop getting himself into stupidly dangerous situations, but he accepted it anyways, albeit reluctantly.

“D-do… do you actually, like actually promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone? Ever? At all?”

Hobie held up his right hand into the air, as if taking an oath. “I, MJ, solemnly swear to never breathe a single word to anyone about your super secret identity, so help me god.”

Miles planted his fists on his hip and shook his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales on a shaky laugh.

“Don’t you believe me? What would I have to gain by selling you out? Oh,” Hobie stops suddenly, perking up. “We could even work together! I got me my sweet camera and my extensive connects, man. Think about it!”

“No, no. Hobie. Stop that, man. I’m not putting you into any danger after I just saved your skinny butt. Spiderman doesn’t do sidekicks anyways,”

Hobie looked a bit put out, but shrugged anyways. “Well, I mean… think about it sometime. We could seriously take down criminal activity around here, if you’re down! And, uh. You do have my number,”

Miles looked up and took a deep breath. “Mmnyes, I do. I do have your number. That’s… I mean you’re not wrong about that. Listen, I think it’s getting pretty late and we should both be heading back home now, though.”

The corners of Hobie’s mouth curled up mischievously. “True, true. It is a school night, after all.”

Miles couldn’t stop grinning despite the heavy anvil that threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yep, yes it is! Okay, time to get you home now. C’mon, let’s go.”

Miles moved to step into Hobie’s space and carry him on his back again so he could lower the both of them down from the lip of the theatre roof.

But before that happened, he felt Hobie place a cold but strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Miles looked up inquisitively and felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt those same hands slowly slide up the smooth spandex of his suit, up his shoulders, and then they stopped at his neck, at the seam of where his suit and mask met.

The entire thing probably only took a few seconds to do, but to Miles it felt like eons passed as he felt every single muscle twitch and the pulse beating underneath Hobie’s skin while he ran those fingers up his arms.

He was standing so close to him! Oh god!

The entire ordeal was unbearably intimate, and Miles could barely stop the shudder that wracked his body suddenly.

Hobie’s soft lips were slightly parted, the lighting of the sign next to them caught in the dark brown portals that were his eyes.

“U-uhm. Sorry, this is weird...” he mumbled quietly. But his hands didn't move.

All around them, crickets started their soothing chorus.

Here they were, right behind the giant lettering of the Delacorte Theatre, intertwined in each other’s arms on a cold night-- and Miles’ core body temperature has never felt hotter before. He felt like he could melt steel, the way this night was going. He didn’t know when his hands raised to grasp onto Hobie’s arms, but they must’ve done it of their own accord because Miles then felt himself squeezing softly onto Hobie’s biceps.

Slowly, painstakingly, and carefully… Hobie made his move.

Every centimeter of the mask being pushed up was accompanied by a soft look that asked-- no, it begged-- for permission to continue. His hands seemed to move on their own eventually, as he slid the mask up over the back of Miles' head and then eased it up off of his nose.

Hobie wore a soft look of determination then, that fully came into view again once Miles felt his mask slide right up off of his eyes. Hobie’s soft hands eventually fell away, mask in one hand, no sounds in the air except for the wildlife of the park starting to wake now that the night has officially fallen.

Miles wasn’t sure why he did, but he held his breath.

After a few seconds of appraising gazes from each other, pupils meeting pupils, exchanging a million words a second with just a few looks… Hobie grinned beautifully.

“Damn. There you are,”

Miles felt a plume of heat erupt from his gut and rush up to his face. “Uh. Hm, y-yep. Here I am,” he blinked back at Hobie with his big brown eyes.

Hobie had a look of pure joy on his face before it started to melt away suddenly. “You know… I should backstab you for abandoning me out of nowhere that one time, though… I really should...”

The moment collapsed like an undone web, a delicate thing now completely destroyed as Miles leaped up in indignation.

“Hobie!”

Hobie stepped back and laughed loudly. “Re-lax! I’m not gonna actually do it. But. Y’know.”

“And if you do, I’ll leave you webbed up to that billboard near Visions,” Miles threatened, mostly light-heartedly.

“Psshh, and then get my mom’s two million lawyers on your ass? Good luck,”

“As if they could ever catch me! I’m Spiderman!”

Just as easily as they had stepped out of being just kids for a moment, they stepped right back into it, bickering like they'd been friends since forever.

Miles lowered the both of them from the sign and they headed towards the eastern side of the park, making their way over to Hunter’s Gate. They bickered and bantered back and forth the entire way there, and it was only once they made it to the outer gates of the park that Miles stopped them both.

With his mask back on and other New Yorkers now milling nearby, Miles made it a point to lower his voice as he turned to Hobie and puffed his chest out heroically.

“So, random citizen. Where are we off to today? I told you I’d take you back home safely, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“’Cause you promised, right?” Hobie smirked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. I did. So, lead the way!” Spiderman made a grand ushering gesture, and Hobie chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped aside and exited Central Park.

“You gonna walk me home, Spiderman?” Hobie threw him a side-long glance.

“Yyyeah…? Why? You’d rather swing home?”

“I liked swinging, actually. Yeah,” Hobie stopped where he was on the sidewalk and nodded with an air of finality. “Yeah… let’s swing!”

Spiderman felt his heart do a few somersaults in his chest before he gestured towards his shoulders. Hobie quickly assumed the position, long lanky arms wrapping around him and leaning his body weight against Spiderman’s side.

Spiderman shot up a web to a nearby street lamp and gave his friend one more glance.

“You sure?” He asked again, really making sure that Hobie was okay with this. Not many people really liked swinging, which was understandable. Even Miles wasn't the biggest fan of it at times.

Hobie chuckled and ignored the onlookers as they slowly ambled past the two, throwing the teens questioning glances as they made their way past them.

“Yeah, I am! Let’s go,”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Miles: Do you actually actually really like on your LIFE promise that you’re not ginna tell a soul about… well…

Miles: gonna*

MJ: Yes, Miles. I PROMISE [eyeroll emoji]

Miles: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

MJ: Do you actually, though? ;)

Miles: No. But I can find out… I got connects

MJ: Uh huh. I’ll tell your “connects” that if you don’t take me out on that promised lunch date, our friendly neighborhood Spiderman just might be the next trending topic on ALL social media apps again very soon……..

Miles: Oh my god. You are Evil. I can’t believe this. My next arch nemesis… damn

Miles: What a killer plot twist. The greatest foe I have yet to face happens to be none other than one of my very own classmates

Miles: It be ya own people

From his family’s Lower Manhattan penthouse, Hobie laughs out loud as he reads the text messages, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown his way by various members of his team.

From Miles’ own humble dorm room at Visions, he laughs aloud as well.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[onlythebravest]

some more red plum carpet shenanigans 2/?

Oct 15 2023

[sanatomis]

⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐃𝐀𝐃!

it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.

content. canon divergence (suguru’s alive and studying to be a kindergarten teacher), possible ooc characters, female!reader.

notes. guys i’m a sucker for satoru who really, really tries and isn’t just a goofy man-child ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ also ! thank you all for your patience, it took me a while to finish this piece bc of uni, so i'm vv happy it's finally done <3

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“I don’t have a dad.” 

As cruel as it may be, a part of Megumi hopes that the sentence makes his teacher greatly uncomfortable. Demanding for a father to attend a Career Day at school simply isn’t fair to children without one—or, well, to the child without one. It’s not his fault his father hauled ass and left, so why is she making this so difficult for him? 

“Oh,” she mumbles. It seems his arrow hit the target, as her eyebrows pull together in a frown and she shifts her weight between her feet. “Well, you, uh, have a male guardian, don’t you?”

Megumi grimaces. Instantly, he thinks back to last week. Satoru Gojo, self-proclaimed strongest, had hit his head on a kitchen cabinet. With a dramatic pout and an overexaggerated wobble to his lips, he clung to you for hours. Some affection will make it all better!

Of course, when Megumi criticised his skills surrounding his infinity technique—because, really, how couldn’t it block a simple cabinet—the sorcerer opted to ignore him. He suspects there was some foul play at hand. 

“Barely,” he mutters, as the memory resurfaces. 

His teacher lets out a startled hum. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” Megumi says quickly. He watches as she starts typing on her computer, and the realisation that she’s probably currently taking a look at his file isn’t a particularly welcome one. “What about my other guardian? Can I bring her, instead?”

“This event is geared towards fathers,” she explains. It’s obvious she forgot her reading glasses today, Megumi thinks, as she needs to narrow her eyes to read the screen in front of her. “I have one Satoru Gojo noted down as your male guardian. Surely, he will be able to attend.” 

Megumi pauses. He blinks up at her expressionlessly, and fights off the urge to push his teacher down a well. You often preach about being kind to others, and that wouldn’t be very kind. 

“Can’t I take my oth—”

“I’m afraid not,” she interrupts him before he even gets the sentence out. It irks him. Megumi isn’t fond of speaking to begin with, so when he does, he’d prefer not to be cut off halfway through. “An exception will not be made. Please, make sure to bring Gojo-san to school.” 

Megumi briefly, and for the very first time ever, mourns the fact that you and Satoru weren’t married. A small part of him calls the man a coward for not asking you to. If he’d simply taken the step, then Megumi would be able to pass you off as Gojo-san. Unfortunately, he can’t, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s no way around this problem. 

“Fine,” he grumbles. It takes all of his remaining willpower to not stomp out of the classroom. Once again, he thinks of you. It’d be extremely bad manners. He can’t find it in himself to wish his teacher a nice day this time, though, and so she’ll have to make due with a slightly less polite Megumi for today. 

There’s nothing he can do about it. Satoru will have to come to the school. 

Megumi suddenly despises the idea of Career Day. 

“I need you to come to my school next week.” 

Immediately, all chatter around the dining table stops. For once, Megumi finds himself annoyed at the sudden appearance of silence. Before he said it, he knew his words would most likely have such an effect—he just didn’t expect it to be so instant. 

He tries his best to feign nonchalance, as if the topic that’s coming up didn’t make him feel stressed-out beyond belief. The confused, startled glances you and Satoru share don’t do much to help him, either. Perhaps it’s because Megumi is looking straight at him; him instead of you. Yeah, Satoru, he isn’t a fan of it, either. 

“Me?” The man asks then, and Megumi has to resist the urge to say, ‘no, I meant the snail in the backyard—yes, you,’ in the most sarcastic voice he can muster up. Satoru once again steals a look at you, ever so oblivious to Megumi's mental remarks. “Don’t you mean—” 

“I don’t,” Megumi cuts him off solemnly. His lips are pursed shut, and he pokes the slices of pork belly in his bowl with his chopsticks. One didn’t need to be of particularly high intelligence to notice the boy’s displeasure.  “I have to bring a male figure for Career Day.” 

It’s slow, the morphing of Satoru’s face, but it happens gradually and doesn’t stop until he’s positively beaming. Megumi doesn’t like it one bit. Nothing good happens when he looks like that, and he’s quite sure that all that will spew out of his mouth in a few seconds will be nothing except for pure nonsense. 

“Well, luckily, I will have the day off, then!” Satoru chimes, with a smile so wide it causes two dimples to appear on his cheeks. You copy his smile, and gently go to poke the little dent in his skin—Satoru lets you, as he always does. Megumi would think of it as cute if he weren’t so annoyed. “I will be there.” 

It seems he was right. Satoru’s words are pure nonsense.

“I didn’t tell you when,” he comments dryly. 

The sorcerer blinks. His smile is still on his face, but it’s fading, and the dimples do so with it. Your hand hovers halfway in the air, stuck with nothing to poke, and you slowly bring it back down to your side. It seems neither of you had taken time to think about that small fact—Megumi blames Satoru for dragging you down with him; him and those indentations in his cheek that you always seem to coo over. 

“Oh,” Satoru mumbles. A crease between his brows forms as his brain hurries to catch up with the newfound information. A few seconds pass, and then the previous bravado returns. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I can take the day off. When do you need me? Tell me, and I’ll be there.” 

Megumi very much doubts he can take days off all willy-nilly like that, especially after he pushed his workload onto someone else to attend his science fair last time, but then again, what does he know? If Satoru didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, then Megumi wasn’t about to break his own head doing so, either. 

“Next Friday,” he mumbles. From the tone of his voice, it’s quite clear that he’d rather be saying anything else. “We have to leave at eight a.m., please, be on time.”

“Sure thing!” Satoru chimes, and with that, Megumi thinks the dreaded conversation has finally come to an end. 

All in all—it could’ve gone worse. At least Satoru didn’t prolong it unnecessarily. Nor did he add a bunch of relentless teasing. He glances at the sorcerer. Satoru is happily munching on the dinner you’d prepared, both his cheeks stuffed full with entirely too much rice. It’s unbecoming, and a reflection of his poor manners, Megumi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how you look at the man with such hearts in your eyes. 

Though, your more than adequate cooking seems to have saved him from one of Satoru’s onslaughts. He’s grateful. Even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight in front of him. 

“Hey, ‘toru?” You ask, breaking the silence with a slight hesitation to your voice. It nearly sounds nervous, and both Megumi and Tsumiki look up in alarm. Satoru hums, still chewing away. “What are you going to tell the class?”

Satoru stops eating. His chewing comes to a halt, and his chopsticks freeze in the air. A slice of pork drops from between them, and falls back into his bowl—It’s not hard to see the cogs turning in his head. “Uhm, I. . .” He swallows the food still in his mouth, and clears his throat. 

Right. It’s Career Day—but Satoru can’t tell a bunch of seven to eight-year-olds that he hunts and kills grimy, ugly, and freakishly scary curses for a living, now, can he? Megumi doesn’t think that would go over well with the other parents. The boy sighs. It’s just one thing after another. He grimly believes the world might just be out to get him. 

“I. . .Oh! I can tell them I’m a teacher,” his guardian scrambles for a solution, and Megumi can’t help but think it’s a little lack-lustre. Who would believe that guy is a teacher, anyway? Then again. . .Megumi doesn’t know a better fix for their current problem, either. He was so focused on the fact that it was Satoru that had to come to the school, he all but forgot about the fact that the dear thorn-in-his-side didn’t possess a normal job. “Suguru has told me a thing or two about his internship. I can take inspiration from there.”

Ah, yes. The famed Suguru Geto. Megumi has met him before. He hasn’t actually spoken to him, however. The man often visits, and has twin girls clinging to him when he does, and while Tsumiki seems to really like him—and them—Megumi doesn’t have an interest in seeking out some form of interaction, yet. Whenever he comes over, Megumi opts to hide in his room. Suguru never tries to disturb him, nor does he try to coax him into coming out. He’s very grateful for it. 

So, despite never speaking to him, Megumi knows about Suguru. Well, he knows enough. He knows Suguru went to school with the two of you, and he knows something really, very bad (nearly) happened that caused the man to take a step back from the world you all live in. What exactly happened (or what didn’t happen), Megumi doesn’t know for sure. You and Satoru almost never speak about it, and when you do, it’s in hushed voices—and you always stop immediately when he enters the room. 

But that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. Suguru doesn’t force himself upon Megumi, and so he will extend him the same courtesy.  “I thought Geto-san wasn’t a teacher, yet?” Tsumiki speaks up from beside him, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Mimi and Nana said he’s still learning. How can he be teaching, already?” 

“He’s not a teacher, yet, munchkin, well spotted,” Satoru answers with a proud grin. The nickname annoys Megumi—the feeling of irritation has been conditioned into his very being after Satoru chose it as the designated nickname for both of them. “An internship helps him build experience in the field. It means he is still learning, but he will do so while teaching.”

Tsumiki nods in understanding, her mouth opens and her lips curl into a small ‘ah’ as the information settles in. “So, you will pretend to be a teacher, then? At Megumi’s school?”

Satoru bites on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Seemingly—as Megumi is quite convinced he doesn’t ever think before he speaks. “I think so, yes,” he explains, and unknowingly retorates Megumi’s train of thoughts. How annoying. Satoru looks towards you for approval; it’s something he does very often. “It’s probably the safest route, no?”

“It’s our best option,” you say, and bring a thumb up to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Gently, you wipe away a grain of rice stuck to his skin. It’s effortless, and nearly automated. Megumi wonders how many times you’ve had to do that. “Pretending to be a teacher shouldn’t be too difficult a task. Right, mochi?”

“Right,” Satoru echoes. His eyes track your every move, and the slight, pink colouring of his cheeks doesn’t seem to embarrass him even a little bit. Megumi thinks it should. Have some decorum. “I can do it, no problem.” 

“Alright then,” you say, and smile. First at Satoru, and then at Megumi. You look at the boy for a few seconds; you’re about to ask him if he’s okay with it. He knows you are, because you always do. “Is that okay for you, Megumi?” It’s like clockwork, almost. 

Megumi feels the need to answer with something snarky. Something akin to the sound of ‘What choice do I have?’ but he doesn’t—because you’re being kind, and you don’t deserve such a response. So, instead he turns towards Satoru.

“. . .Just don’t mess it up.” 

Satoru delivers a whole spiel about how ‘he’d never do that’ and that he’s ‘more than capable’ of telling a little white lie, but Megumi dilutes it to background noise rather quickly. He continues sputtering his nonsense when Megumi and Tsumiki stand up to clear the table, and still hasn’t stopped even when you and him start loading the dishwasher together—Megumi chooses to seek reprieve in his room while he’s distracted. 

It isn’t until many hours later, when Megumi leaves the sanctuary of his room to swipe a quick snack from the kitchen, that he first hears Satoru speak about something other than his great, and very much sufficient, ‘capabilities’. Your voices are muffled, and Megumi has to focus to make out your words. His soft, inaudible padding down the illuminated hallways comes to a halt. As if that would make his ears function better. 

“Are you sure you want to do this, Satoru?”

The boy frowns. With such gentleness in your voice, it’s hard to identify the worry lingering beneath the surface. Megumi moves a bit closer. He stops one step shy of bumping into the wooden surface, and peeks through the groove. The door is ajar—it’s something that allows him to watch how your eyes follow Satoru’s large frame as he paces around the room. It’s strange. Seeing him so. . .frazzled. 

Satoru nods. “I can do this, I know I can,” he says, and quits his pacing to look at you. Megumi can’t see his face, but he can see yours. He might as well not have, though, as he can’t make out the emotion that fills your eyes. It’s not one he himself has in his repertoire, that he knows for sure. “He never asks me for anything, princess. I have to do this right.” 

Ah, this isn’t a conversation Megumi is meant to hear. He should probably seize his eavesdropping, he thinks, and winces a little when he properly analyses Satoru’s words. They’re truthful. Megumi doesn’t go to him when he needs something. His first thought is to go to you—and his second, Tsumiki. And if he’s being honest anyway, his third thought very likely isn’t Satoru, either; He’d try to solve it on his own if it came down to it. Megumi frowns again. He doesn’t like how that realisation makes him feel. 

A careful shuffle of footsteps breaks him free from his thoughts. Megumi looks up, and catches how you place a hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll do great, baby,” you mumble. There’s a small, soft smile on your lips, one that quickly makes way for the peck Satoru places upon them. 

“Thank you,” Satoru whispers. One of his hands reaches for yours, and Megumi suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something when the man brings them up to his lips to press a tender kiss to them. Okay, no, definitely intruding—ew. 

The boy scrunches his nose up in disgust, and hurriedly darts back towards his room. Suddenly, he has lost his appetite for a late-evening snack. Megumi lets out a deep sigh once he’s all tucked into his sheets again. Perhaps giving Satoru a shot wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Just one, though.

. . .Yeah, just one should be enough.

It’s the final, conclusive thought Megumi has before dozing off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the conversation you and Satoru share—now behind a very closed door.

You stifle a giggle. The disappearance of Megumi’s presence outside your bedroom was quick and rampant as soon as Satoru started to kiss your hands. Something the sorcerer did very deliberately. It’s as if the boy suddenly forgot about the very special, very effective pair of eyes his guardian possesses. And with a cursed energy output such as Megumi’s, it would be hard not to recognise his presence.

“You did that on purpose,” you comment. “How cruel of you, mochi.”

Satoru hums, and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Maybe, the little brat shouldn’t eavesdrop, then,” he defends himself. There isn’t an inkling of guilt to be seen on his pretty face.

. . .Though, both of you still take some extra care to shut the door next time.

Megumi faithfully believes that, as of today, he has used-up all of his luck for the next five, no, ten years. It can only go downhill from here. For some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason—Satoru is actually pulling this off. That’s not all; he’s not merely winging it, he’s genuinely doing well. The boy can’t quite believe his eyes.

When he’d walked to the front with such an overexaggerated pep in his step, and an overabundance of bravado rolling off of him in waves—Megumi couldn’t help but watch on with a grim look, and a healthy dose of negative thoughts. It only amplified the nerves he’d collected so far during the walk to school. Somehow, watching Satoru give your flashcards a frantic do-over did very little to ease his bubbling anxiety.

There were many of them, flashcards that is. All possible questions his peers or his teacher could ever think of are written on those little pieces of cardboard. Courtesy of you, and your boyfriend. Megumi’s able to recall all those nights the two of you spend at the kitchen table—practising. He thought it was silly at the time.

But, as it turns out, it works.

Satoru is fun. To other people; Megumi doesn’t share the sentiment. Against all odds, he’s dynamic, and speaks with conviction. His flamboyant hand gestures have others think of them as amusing—captivating, even. Satoru is talking, and they’re all hanging onto his every word. No matter the fact that they’re all cleverly disguised lies.

Megumi can’t wrap his head around it. He doesn’t need to, however. If anything, he’s relieved that his peers think of his guardian as cool. While he certainly does not share the opinion, he isn’t too dense to admit that such a belief will save him a lot of embarrassment in the future. So, for this one, single day, he will let Satoru Gojo be cool. His snarky comments can resume tomorrow.

“Ah, it seems you have a deep love for your profession, Gojo-san,” his teacher says. She interrupts Satoru’s rant, and catches his attention as well as Megumi’s. Her voice is light and airy, and carries nothing that should cause him to fear the worst. Still, the boy feels on edge. “Though, I don’t remember the grade you are teaching. Could you tell us, again?”

Ah, and there it goes. The very first card in the elaborately built castle of lies.

Satoru pauses. A second passes, and then two, and three, and so on. He doesn’t speak for a good thirty, and Megumi can nearly see his mind leaf through his beloved flashcards—flashcards that are now neatly tucked into his pockets and entirely out of reach. That’s good. Because the absolute last thing Satoru should do now, is resort back to the flashcards.

Megumi shakes his head no as a signal.

“Ah,” Satoru says. “I teach kindergarten.”

Satoru didn’t catch the hint. Megumi wishes the ground would swallow him up. It would have been the correct answer—it is the answer that’s written on the flashcards—if Satoru hadn’t decided to go off route. Getting too caught up in the story he’d been free-writing, and allowing himself to get carried away by the looks of awe is resulting in his downfall, which, consecutively, will end with Megumi’s downfall, as well.

“Huh? But! What about the science experiment that exploded?” One of the children in his class whines. “I didn’t get to do that in kindergarten!”

“And the backflip you taught your students!”

“What about the first prize in the talent show? I thought your students were famous!”

The little bit of colour that normally resides in Satoru’s face steadily disappears, and he clenches his fist at his side. Ah, it’s great to know he’s at least aware of his mistake. That won’t help either of them at the moment, though. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a feeling of distress overtakes him. It shows on his face. He doesn’t exactly go through the trouble of trying to hide it—there are bigger problems right now.

How utterly humiliating to be caught lying.

Satoru’s eyes find him. They’re just as troubled as his own. It worsens his anxiety.

“Oh, uhm, you see. . .” Satoru stammers, and Megumi’s stomach churns when the children around them continue to ask more and more questions. The wince his guardian lets out does little to soothe him. Megumi sighs, and looks at the ground. “Ah, I see. It seems you guys saw right through me.”

Megumi slides down in his seat. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, the ground would absorb him. It’s currently looking like a preferable fate.

“. . .I’m actually a detective.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

“And. . .And for a detective, it’s very important to listen to what people say, because they could be lying!”

It’s a sad, pathetic excuse for a save. Megumi briefly ponders the distance between his seat and the door. Perhaps he could make a run for it. The subway station is very close by—getting on and travelling to an entirely new city to start a new life doesn’t seem like such a bad option. He sighs. No, that’s not possible. You and Tsumiki would be very worried. What else is there to do, though?

“You all picked up on my lie, which tells me every single one of you could make a great detective in the future.”

Megumi thinks Satoru might have some underlying mental problems. Though, they can’t possibly be as severe as the problems his classmates have—for they all believe the nonsense he’s giving them. Bright eyes, filled with hope and admiration, stare up at the man at the front of the class; impressed hums and entertained smiles get passed between the parents standing at the edge of the room. And Satoru, well, he seems entirely too proud of the fact that he made a bunch of children think they’re destined for a career in law enforcement. But, be that as it may, it works.

The children stir up unrest—the good kind this time, the kind that vocalises their excitement—and all rush to ask the detective a question. But, before they can even open their mouths, Satoru claps his hands together. It seems he has decided enough is enough, and it’s one of those very rare moments where Megumi agrees with him. The boy needs this to be over already.

“Alright, that’s it for today,” Satoru says, and feigns disappointment. He pretends to be affected by the sad groans of the children—keyword being pretend, as to the trained eye it’s quite clear that he wishes to leave. “I’m not allowed to tell you more.”

Ah, see, now that’s a good card.

“Wait, but, what about. . .”

“Ah, sorry, that’s confidential. Detective stuff, y’know?”

Confidential. Megumi thinks that might just be his new favourite word. The lingering feeling of anxiety slowly starts to subside with every step Satoru takes towards the back of the room—to the back, and away from the spotlight. His eyes follow the man’s large frame, but Satoru never chooses to look at him in return. His line of sight is firmly focused on the floor. It confuses Megumi, but he chalks it up to a mere whim.

All things considered (and minus the near cardiac arrest he went through), today went pretty well, after all. Much to his surprise.

Perhaps Megumi doesn’t hate Career Day. A strong dislike is more like it.

Megumi can’t count the times he wished for Satoru to be quiet. The exact number is much like the digits of Pi—huge, and absolutely never-ending. He can, however, count the times he didn’t wish for him to be quiet. As of today, that stands at a very solid one.

The birds around them chirp, and the bustle of other people is heard all around them—but they’re the only sounds gracing his ears. There is none of Satoru’s incessant chatter, nor is there even a glimmer of gloating about a job well-done. It’s eerily silent, and Megumi isn’t sure what to make of it. This isn’t quite how he imagined the walk home to go. Far from it, if he’s being honest.

“What’s up with you?”

It’s possibly the first time Megumi decides to break the silence, ever. The boy frowns, and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. There isn’t a middle-ground with Satoru, he has found out. Either he speaks entirely too much, or unnervingly little. There’s a tiny pebble in his path, and Megumi feels the need to kick it forward—so he does.

“I kind of messed up there, huh?”

The kick doesn’t have nearly enough force to it. Megumi watches as the little rock skips forward. Once, twice, and then it comes to a standstill again. “Yeah, kind of,” he agrees.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru rushes out. It’s said so fast, as if it physically pains him to say it. Perhaps it does. It’s sincere, however. There isn’t even a hint of a joke to be found. Something must be bothering him. “It didn’t go how I wanted it to go, and I don’t know why I went astray, and forgot about the cards. It—well, it was pretty stupid.”

Megumi doesn’t exactly feel the need to deny it.

“So, I get it, okay?” He continues, seeing the boy’s silence as an empty space for more conversation—more rambling. Since that’s what it is; rambles, plain and simple. Megumi doesn’t see the need for such a fuss. “I shouldn’t have strayed from the plan, and. . .”

“It’s fine.”

Satoru blinks at him. “What?”

“I said it’s fine,” Megumi repeats. Because it really is fine. Admittedly, it wasn’t smart of Satoru to all but discard your carefully planned presentation, but it ended well enough regardless. No harm, no foul. “Thank you for coming.”

That small, short sentence is enough to stop Satoru in his tracks. Megumi doesn’t, however. The man is very tall, he’s sure to catch up in a jiffy; he doesn’t need him to wait. There’s another small silence, though this one feels a lot more comfortable than the last. Satoru takes his time to process, and Megumi lets him.

“W—What?” The sorcerer stammers in shock. There is no need for Megumi to turn around and see—he can hear the smile curling onto his lips. “Did you just. . .”

“I won’t say it again,” Megumi grumbles definitively, and picks up his pace. The very tips of his ears heat up, and the apples of his cheeks turn red. The feeling of embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned it to appear when the day started.

Satoru attempts to run after him, to catch up. “Megumi!” He calls out, the very prominent, very familiar whiney lilt now back in his voice. Megumi didn’t miss it. “Wait for me, I didn’t hear you! Could you repeat that?”

“Yes, you did!” Megumi says, and throws him an annoyed glance from over his shoulder. He tightens his hold on the straps of his backpack. “Stop lying.”

“Nuh uh!”

“What are you? Six?”

Satoru’s toothy grin is infuriating. But—it’s familiar. And Megumi discovers he’s much more at ease when that grin is on display, than when the man in question is moping around. It’s a lot less alarming.

“And a half,” Satoru adds.

The scowl that’s on Megumi’s face appears almost instantly when he goes to ruffle his hair. For a man whose technique largely surrounds being untouchable, he has a surprising lack of awareness concerning this thing called personal space.

“Ugh,” Megumi groans, and pushes him off. It doesn’t work. Satoru gravitates towards him again—almost as if he’s a magnet. He doesn’t attempt to move a second time. In moments like these, it’s best to let Satoru get it all out of his system. “You’re so stupid.”

It’s true. He does think Satoru is stupid, but he can’t deny it—Satoru tried his very best today, and in the days prior. Which makes him one of the very small, barely existent group of people who have done so for him.

It seems one shot was enough, after all.

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

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[gremlin-girly]

Late Night

Pairing: Bucky x gn!reader (with one use of "doll")

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, mutual pining, Bucky crushing on you HARD, sleepy reader (again), friends to lovers, pet names (doll and sweetheart), a hint of angst bc of past trauma, mentions of past trauma (winter soldier), cuddling

Summary: After another late night at work, you refuse to let Bucky down and insist on still coming over to watch the movie you've both been trying to arrange a viewing of for the last few weeks. However, five minutes in you find yourself falling asleep...

Word count: 689

Not beta'd. Written this morning. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted or fed into an AI machine.

A/N: I thought of this a while ago. Am I procrastinating the final installment? Yes. 🫠 I spent two hours editing it yesterday and have found something I don't like and want changed 🙃 oh well.... it should be out by the end of this week sorry Mel

And in typical Friday the 13th fashion i have slept 4hrs, forgot to book my taxi and there's a spider currently scuttling the floor and harassing me. Please send assistance 🥲- Love, Grem x

Masterlist | Busy Morning w/ Steve | The Bucky Barnes Collection

It's said that when animals feel safe around you, they fall asleep near you. Although Bucky wasn't surprised you'd fallen asleep (you'd been working so late recently it was understandable), he was surprised when your head hit his shoulder and even more surprised when you nuzzled against him.

His heart jackhammered painfully in his chest as he tried to control his breathing. He glanced down to where you'd taken residence against him, your soft cheeks pillowing you from the hard muscles in his shoulder. God, you looked perfect even when you slept.

Bucky's heart strings seized as he smiled down at your sleeping form. You felt safe around him. The Winter Soldier had killed so many people and had been a danger to everyone. Everyone was, at least in Bucky's mind, rightfully fearful of him or at least worried about him "snapping".

Everyone but you, it seemed.

When he'd first met you, you'd greeted him with a warm smile and a quick handshake. You didn't even bat an eyelid when you'd grabbed his left hand (the metal hand, the killing hand) and continued blabbering about welcoming him to S.H.I.E.L.D officially. He knew you'd be different from that moment but he didn't realise just how different.

Your sleepiness and lack of sleep was relatable to Bucky; nightmares, nightterrors and nighttime anxiety attacks had plagued him for months. You'd shared tips with him and whilst they weren't entirely helpful at times, there was a comfort there. You were someone he could speak to freely. In fact, he hadn't even told you about the nightmare nor had you asked. One morning at the compound, making coffee in the kitchen you'd only said, "trouble sleeping? I get the feeling. Apparently cherry juice helps."

He'd playfully joked back asking if he looked that bad and you'd grinned at him saying that he was still pretty to you.

It was the first time anyone had called him pretty.

How and when he fell for you he couldn't pin point. Maybe it was that first encounter, maybe it was when you called him pretty or maybe it was ten seconds ago when you fell asleep next to him, blissfully unaware at how you somehow managed to always turn his brain to mush.

"Doll?" Bucky murmurs, nudging your pudgy cheek with his shoulder and biting back a smile when you frown at him with your eyes closed. "The opening credits have barely started and you're falling asleep."

"Hmm? Hmm." You may have been willfully ignoring Bucky in favour of sleep but the facts remained that he was warm, cosy and smelled ridiculously good. Any excuse to stay asleep like this was an excuse worth using.

Bucky sighs and flicks the TV off, scooping you gently into his arms. You make one weak sound of protest but otherwise limply fall against him.

"I'm putting you to bed." He tells you, carrying you into his room and gently setting you onto the bed.

"'M not tired." You mumble curling into his covers as he tucks you in. Your surrounded by the smell of Bucky and the all too familiar fuzzy feeling warms your chest.

"Yeah, you are." Bucky chuckles softly. "Get some sleep. We can watch the movie tomorrow."

As he moves to leave, he hears your whispered request and he pauses.

"Stay with me?"

"Uh...." Bucky swallows. What he wouldn't give to stay next to you but you're sleep-addled brain is the one making the request.

"Please?" You mumble into the covers. "You're so warm. I feel so safe with you near me."

The bed dips as Bucky concedes to your request instantly but he doesn't dare touch you, no, not until you turn until him and snuggle against his chest and grumble a sleepy goodnight does he drape his arm around you and hold you close.

It takes a while for him to fall asleep, his mind racing with thoughts of you and what it meant that you felt safe enough to sleep in his bed with him in it. But when he does finally drift, it's the best night's sleep he's had in a long while.

[wmnwntmefshfrme]

I FINISHED THEM. I DID IT. WOOHOO (crying)

edit: putting myself back in the trenches, more extreme though since i'm making character sheets LMAOAOA

design notes:

Yaira: nothing changed

Estrella: dead mom ponytail gone </3 i only did it in the og drawing of her bc its funny

Robin: ROBINNNN. IM SO SORRY I FORGOT THE PUFF BUNS UUEHEHHHHH- anyway, when i was planning out the designs for the other named npcs, i was like "why the hell are there so many gingers" so i made her have blue hair :3 to match with her confidence stat :3 also gave her yellow/orange eyes instead of green bc there were also a lot of green eyed npcs

Sydney: SKUNK HAIR. I DUNNO HOW I FORGOT ABOUT THAT YUMMY DYE STYLE. SYDNEY IM SORRY. i completely forgot i wanted to still have her natural hair (also just made pink bc teehee i like whimsy) to show

Whitney: not much changed besides the hair style. completely forgot i wanted her to be super gyaru OTL. gave her cheek piercings bc they're cute :3

Kylar: i lowkey started to not like how i did her hair originally and then came across all the sketches i made for the LIs and was like FLUFFY KY :3 ofc had to keep the emo bangs :3

Avery: nothing changed LMAOAOA

Great Hawk: FEATHER HAIR. I FORGOT I MADE A SKETCH FOR FEATHER-LIKE HAIR FOR HER. IM MAD AT MYSELF.

Black Wolf: not much changed, just made her hair longer bc why not

Alex: not much changed, just made he hair more of a red red, darkened her skin, altered her bangs, and changed the color of her bandana. still wanted to keep her looking like a cutie patootie

Eden: I ACCIDENTALLY GAVE HER A GIANT FOREHEAD THE FIRST TIME AND I DIDN'T MEAN TO SOBBING. not much changed though, just made her hair darker and have a green tint to it. look im trying to make my designs have lots of whimsy

Quinn: you can tell with Quinn LMAO. i just felt like she needed to have a distinct look since she's a special npc n all :3 classic purple and green color scheme for a shady character

Bailey: i'm gonna be honest, i was originally gonna go with a mean asian mom look for Bailey but then i was like "....what if muscle mommy"

Remy: i wanted her to look like a little shit. that's all

Briar: tried to go for a bit of a Jessica Rabbit and Rarity type aura. i really like her design and she could put me in the underground brothel any day :3 /j

Leighton: just an old hag, nothing special

Harper: wanted to make her look a little inhuman??? i think i got it with how dead her skin looks idk. also wanted her to look like a little shit

Landry: here's where the asian mom look went. i like her and Mickey's dynamic and they both just look like regular people (better for crime)

Sirris: Sydney if she was older. idk what else i should've done lol

River: old lady :3 hot old lady :3c (pt 1)

Doren: i wanted her hair to look fluffy as hell

Winter: old lady :3 hot old lady :3c (pt 2)

Mason: SEAWEED HAIR. that's all

Charlie: wanted to embody :3c

Darryl: she's very cutie patootie to me so i made her a cute patootie

Sam: wanted her to look like candy kinda. idk :3

Niki: i only made her hair a little longer and no weird two layer thing for the short portion

Zephyr: wanted her to look smug and also kinda cute???? idk, i didn't really have a vision for her

Jordan: also didn't really have a vision for her, but it did want her to gave similar eyes to Quinn

Gwylan: her i did have a vision for :3c she's a cutie patootie, that's all :3

Wren: thought a side shave would make her look cooler

Mickey: hairstyle changed a little. other than that, not much changed

Morgan: still a wet rat

Ivory Wraith: nothing changed (they have special eyes tho)

[willowsnook]

Can I get a Carlos one where they lowkey hate each other bc they constantly fight on track but there’s a bunch of tension between them. Maybe something happens on track and afterwards she goes to bitch him out and then he just kisses her or something ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

yesss just a little different

carlos sainz x williams driver reader

-----------------------------------------------------

You had been nervous when you joined the grid a year ago as the first female driver but everyone had been pretty welcoming and treated you the same as the rest of the competition. You honestly were glad to join Williams because it was a lot less pressure on you than it was for your friends Oscar and Kimi at McLaren and Mercedes. Last season you had finished 12th in the drivers standings which was pretty good in your opinion. This year had been a lot different thanks to the new arrival of Carlos Sainz.

He didn't want to be here, that was very clear. Honestly you didn't blame him, with his record he should have been in a top car but when the 8 time world champion comes knocking...what can ya do?

It seemed like he definitely expected to easily be driver #1 and to be treated as such. Most people probably shared that same opinion but you didn't. You weren't going to be a supporting actor in this kind of cut throat sport. Things had started cordial in the offseason with the two of you doing a lot of PR together but you just didn't really have that same bond that you did with your former teammate Alex. It only got worse from there.

First race of the 2025 season, you had out-qualified Carlos heading into race number one sitting P8 while he was behind at P12. He was not pleased. While everyone congratulated you after your run, he stood in the garage with his arms crossed, anger radiating off of him. This escalated the next day to him trying to overtake you resulting in both of you spinning out into the barriers. Instead of jumping out of the car and heading back to the paddock like a good girl, you stormed over to him as he was getting out of his car.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You yelled, pulling off your helmet.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?" He yelled back glaring up at you. "You are supposed to let me pass?" You scoffed.

"Oh I'm sorry, I forgot who I was talking to," you retorted. "I'm so sorry Mr. Sainz I forgot that I have to let you win even though I'm faster and you're washed."

He stomped over from his car putting his finger in your face.

"Watch your fucking tone," he said angrily.

"Or what?" You spit back. The two of you spun around and barged back towards the garage.

As you headed into summer break, the two of you had crashed into each other three more times with probably equal blame in total. It was a disaster for team points and a PR nightmare. At this point they couldn't even get the two of you in the same room without it ending up in you trying to bite each others heads off. You had fun with it though, because by now you knew all the Spainard's tells. Like how he clenched his jaw when he was starting to get annoyed, or fisting his hands when you were close to pushing him over the edge. It's like the two of you were magnets, you'd always find each other no matter how hard the team tried to keep you separate.

---------- Last week of summer break------------

You were lounging by the pool with Oscar and his gf Lily at an airbnb in Australia trying to enjoy your last couple of days of freedom before having to be back.

"Have you talked to Carlos at all this break?" Oscar asked nonchalantly and you saw Lily shoot him a look.

"Why would I waste my precious breath?" You replied not even looking up from your book. Oscar sighed.

"Don't you think you guys should fix whatever this thing is that's going on?

"He's the one that fucking started it," you hissed shooting him a glare. He put his hands up in surrender.

"It's just like I've gotten to know him, and he's a great guy," he said. "I feel like you guys could be friends if you just sat and talked like normal people."

"I think that is literally impossible," you said. "We can't go longer than 2 minutes without him swiping at me."

"Hmm, and do you think he's unprovoked?" Oscar asked and Lily laughed. You flipped both of them off.

"Look, I tried to be nice at first but it's kind of hard when he came in and just expected me to roll over because he's been racing longer," you admitted. "It was offensive and things just went from there."

"I know how he came in was wrong," he said. "But I think you should give him some grace looking at it from his perspective. He should be in a faster car, we both know that. So it was insulting for him to have to come to Williams but that has nothing to do with you." You sighed, knowing he was half right.

"I don't know how to fix it Oscar, I really don't."

---------Dutch Grand Prix--------------

Things had been going well in Zandort so far, you and Carlos had been mostly avoiding each other and when you were together you kept it civil. You'd had good free practices and now were gearing up for qualifying.

You'd easily sped into Q2 and then jut inched by Fernando to make it into the top ten. The car felt good and you were feeling pretty confident you could get even faster in the last session. You were flying on your fast lap, on track to make it to P5 but heading into the corner you could see another car not getting out of the way. Of course it was none other than your teammate. He moved away but it was a little too late as you already had to slow down to swerve around him, losing time.

"What the fuck is he doing?" you screamed into the radio.

"Uhh he said he didn't see you coming, sorry y/n." Your engineer replied to you and you slammed your fist into the steering wheel. You managed to get one more lap in but the loss of focus put you in P9.

You didn't say a word to anyone getting out of the car and the garage was tense, a lot of engineers shooting you sympathetic looks. You stormed off towards your driver room and were a step away before you heard him call your name.

"Y/n," Carlos called out and you turned to see him walking towards yo you down the hallway. Instead of your rage boiling over you felt your eyes fill up with tears as you just felt defeated. You put your hand up to stop him from getting any closer.

"I just don't understand why you hate me so much," you yelled, your voice breaking. "Do you know how hard it was for me to get here? How hard it is to listen to the media constantly tell me I'm here because having a female driver is good PR? I have worked so hard for everything just for you to try time and time again to take it all away."

Tears were starting to leak from your eyes as you shouted and Carlos's eyes were wide with panic. He tried to take another step towards you but you moved back.

"No, I don't want to see you and I don't want to talk to you," you got out before turning and slamming your driver's door in his face. You sunk down to the floor crying and heard a loud bang, as if someone had punched a wall.

You laid in your driver's room for what felt like forever just staring at your ceiling before changing into a pair of sweats and a tank top. As you were collecting your stuff you heard someone knock on your door and open it. You looked over to see Kimi's sympathetic face which caused your eyes to water again. He opened his arms and you walked into them burying your head in his shoulder.

"Come on, let's go get dinner," he said leading you out of the garage.

You spent the rest of the night hanging out with him and his friends before heading back to the hotel to get a good night rest. You stepped out of the elevator onto your floor and saw someone standing by your hotel room. As you got closer you could see it was Carlos. He had changed too into a pair of Williams sweats and a tight fitted tshirt. His right hand was wrapped up with gauze, explaining the noise you heard earlier.

"Here to rub more salt in the wound?" You joked weakly as you came closer to him. His head snapped up and his raked over you getting sadder.

"No, I came to apologize," he said and you rolled your eyes motioning for him to move so you could unlock your door.

"What did PR promise you in order to get you here?" You bit back as you stepped inside, him following close behind.

"Nothing y/n, we need to talk," he said his tone more firm.

"Well I don't really feel like talking," you said turning to him, throwing your hands up. "Now why don't you go back to James and figure out how to get me off the team, I'm sure whatever plan you have will work."

His jaw clenched and you knew that one landed. You should have stopped there but something about him brought out the fight in you.

"I'm sorry that you're washed and the only way for you to beat me is by taking me out," you started, not even believing what you were saying, just wanting to hurt him like he did you. "That's the only apology I want to hear from you." Carlos took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair.

"Or maybe you should go back begging to Mercedes to get a seat to get away from me."

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?" He asked glaring at me and I crossed my arms.

"Make me," you replied daring him.

Within two seconds your back was against the wall and his lips were on yours. When your brain turned back on you found yourself wrapping a hand around his neck pulling you closer. Your lips fought for dominance but you both were clinging together like you could never let go. Your other hand was tangled in his hair as you slightly pulled causing him to groan into you. He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours and you brought your fingers up to touch your swollen lips.

"If I knew that was how I could get you to stop talking I would have done that a long time ago," he said smirking and you shoved him off.

"You caught me in a moment of weakness," you grumbled before flopping onto the bed. He came over to where you were and pulled you up so that you were facing him as he towered over you. His eyes softened as he looked down at you.

"You are a good driver, one of the best I've ever raced again," he started and you stayed quiet. "I should have came in as a leader to make the both of us better and this a competitive team. Instead I was too wrapped up in how I got burned and acted like an ass. It should have never gotten this far and I'm sorry."

You didn't know what to say as you'd never really seen this side of him. He pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear as he met your eyes again, waiting for a response.

"Was that a real answer or a PR one?" You joked with a small smile causing him to relax.

"A PR one cariño, the real answer is that you're too hot when you're mad at me so I couldn't stop," he said and you laughed. He pulled you off the bed and you wrapped your arms around him.

"This is so weird," you said. "I'm so used to hating you."

"I know, but we got to go be seen in public as friends," he said. "That's an actual request from the PR team."

"Yeah yeah, you can buy me ice cream and I'll forgive you for today," you said heading to the door.

"And then we can start over?" He said hopefully.

"If you let me pass tomorrow too," you said smirking at him. He kissed your forehead as he passed you holding his hand out.

"Not a chance."

[ravisinghs-wife]

The seven + Nico and Reyna and their red flags ✼

warnings: not proofread, swearwords, lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: okay I'm sorry I didn't post for like two months, ngl I simply forgot that this blog existed😭

notes to the fic: reader is written as gn (one mention off y/n), but pls don't read Nico's part if u identify as female! :)

masterlist

Percy

he's always barefoot during spring and summer

you'll never catch him with shoes on because he things that they are "blocking the fresh air his toes need"

at least they never get that dirty because he can't survive five minutes without jumping in the sea

when he was younger sally had to force him wear shoes to school, to the parkt et cetera and he was always so angry at her after that because he hated it with all his passion

that anger quickly faded after she baked some blue cookies

after growing up he learned that he should wear shoes to school et cetera but the second he is at camp he gets rid of them

after you dressed it he delegated that he always washed them and kept them clean so there was no wrong doing it and that it's actually healthy for your feet

Annabeth

listen, I love annabeth

but she's always mansplaining

Like u could be talking about ur close family that she only met once and she‘d say something like „actually, i had the impression that…“

It’s so annoying

she doesn't even mean it mean or something

but it also could be just a conversasiation that she isn't even involved in and she'll just randomly pop up and mansplain the topic

jason

That boy doesn’t have any basic knowledge

Like he is at camp jupiter since he’s three or something

I‘m not sure if they even knew what they where teaching him

Like that boy doesn’t know algebra

You could be talking about something in history and how deeply that event infected the way society lives now and he‘d be like „what do you mean?“

And he’s serious

Everytime Percy and Leo make fun of him for not knowing something he‘ll run to you and beg you to explain it to him

Most of the time you make a bit fun of him too because a 17 year old boy who doesn’t know what the french Revolution was is kinda funny

He knows that you‘re just joking though

hazel

I love her but she's like one of the extra careful mom's whose world break when their child hears a swear word

every time you are someone near both of ou swears she has this weird shocked and impressed look and looks around the room

you had to stop swearing around her bc she always starts blushing and looks at you in awe

they don't even have to be the "bad" swear words, it could be something like shit and she'd still be shocked

you had to learn to find alternatives like fudge or fox

she made you browse for the alternatives to swear words for around two hours at midnight and made you subscribe to the mommy blogs incase they had "more cool little alternatives"

piper

she's a die hard romance book hater

she always gives you the weird look when you read one or even only look at one at the bookstore

like she doesn't even have a plausible reason besides that they "always have the same ending and are very predictable"

I mean she's right but still

when she was 14 she had an instagram where she just talked shit about romance books because she was bored

it's not even that she doesn't like reading or books that much, she just doesn't like them because they (as already said) have the same ending and because she gor sick of the perfect romantic ending after drew talked night in and out about it

you once convinced her to read your favorite romance book and she tried her best to be nice

she actually didn't find it that bad and liked the ending but she would never admit that to you

leo

that boy either doesn't shower for one week or takes two hour showers

it's a bit better in the summer but especially in winter he never shower because he "would just get dirty later again"

you have to force him too properly shower because he would just forget it again

and when he actually showers for once he takes two hour showers

but especially in summer he's just gonna swim in the lake and call it a day because he basically "got clean already"

frank

I love frank sm but he would 7 in 1 shampoo

he doesn't get why it's bad and insists that it makes his hair shinier

you try to explain it to him once but he just doesn't understand 😪

he also tries to convince you all the time that it's so much better than owning body wach, shampoo and conditioner

nico

is a pop music hater

he always has this annoyed look on his face when you play pop music

he always makes this disappointed dad sigh and says "again?"

nico sounds so disappointed

he secretly loves it about you tho

reyna

she's like a confused mom and never gets jokes

"what do you mean by that, y/n? I never do that"

you try to explain the joke to her but give up after 10 minutes

she's grumpy for the rest of the day because you wouldn't finish explaining it to her

eventually she gives her pride up and asks you again

and after another ten stressful minutes she finally gets it

she kept arguing that what you said doesn't make sense

[lausaivrse]

Hoshina Soshiro x fem reader.

They're married but when Soshiro gets home he was surprised that his wife didn't greet him he got worried so he called out to his wife.

Then....

I'll happily let you decide on the "surprised" anything at all 😉✨

WHERE’S MY WIFE? ft. soshiro hoshina

━━━━ ✦ pairings. husband! soshiro x wife!fem! reader.

━━━━ ✦ warnings. nothing really, maybe bad writing(?) currently in writers block and i forgot how to write a story. reader is safe and she is only sleeping lol. soshiro panics bc he thought his wifey was gone + maybe typos because your girlie is a fast typer

━━━━ ✦ synopsis. coming home from work was one of soshiro's favourite part of his day but what will happen if he founds out his wife wasn't in their shared home?

━━━━ ✦ notes. Ack! my first ask:D i tried to make this better but since it's been a year since i made a story and not chatfics it's pretty much bad but will probably improve in the future! hope you guys enjoy this though < 3 i love Soshiro sm:( and sorry if this is so short lol i run out of ideas.

coming home from work was one of SOSHIRO's favourite part of his day, the best part of coming home? seeing his beloved wife of course! after all you're his comfort and solace and what's better than coming home and plopping into your arms while you whisper sweet nothings into his ear and soothe his sore body from all that fighting?

the door of your shared home was clicked open, sliding the door swiftly with a huge smile on his face and he was ready to meet you in the kitchen as you greet him a “welcome home!” every time he walks right in through the door but something feels different.

the room was silent the usual sound of your sweet humming, the sound of sizzling of the food you were making for dinner and the sound of your favorite music blasting through the kitchen wasn't there. it was. . quiet.

awfully quiet in SOSHIRO's opinion, he wasn't used to this at all. normally you would greet him and pamper him with kisses and prepare dinner for the two of you but no — it was just pure silence that envelope the whole room, no warmth, no sounds of music blasting on repeat. . nothing at all.

SOSHIRO isn't someone who would panic immediately he was a laid back person but something about the eerie silence makes him feel anxious, what if you left him because you we're tired of him not coming home because of his job? what if you went out for groceries and got attacked by a kaiju—? surely, that wasn't the case right? nothing horrible happened right? it was all just a prank to get back at him, nothing more.

but that still didn't soothe his worries the silence was still there - and he hates every single second he was in the doorway. he doesn't like the silence of the room - it was lacking your warmth, it was lacking the sound of your favorite song repeating and it don't sit right with him at all.

“My love? are you there? I'm home.”

SOSHIRO tried calling out for you but instead of getting a response from you - all he received was silence, no response from you at all. did you fall while waiting for him? maybe that's it - you're just sleeping! yeah, that's it. nothing bad happened.

He slowly made his way upstairs, praying to god that you we're only sleeping due to how late he was on arriving home. his steps were heavy, his heart was beating fast and his hands were sweaty - he hopes and hopes that you are safe and sound is only sleeping. he softly knocks on the door of your shared room, checking if he gets any response from you somehow.

“[name], love? are you there, baby?”

SOSHIRO's voice was shaky he was anxious about the whole thing, vulnerable even. he wish nothing had happened - god forbid if one single strand of your hair gets misplaced he will seriously slice them with his blade. for what seem like eternity, as if his prayers were answered he heard the sound of soft snoring coming from the inside of the room.

he opened the door faster than the wind and just like how he thought you we're on your shared bed - sleeping so soundly and peacefully without a care in the world, SOSHIRO's breathing calmed down as he walked towards the bed his footsteps were light, careful not to stir you awake from your deep slumber as if he was taking care of something so vulnerable.

the mattress creaked a little bit as he sat down next to your sleeping form, his hands were shaky as he traced the softness of your face reassuring himself that you were here with him and in a safe place it didn't take long for a genuine soft smile formed in your husband's face before he pressed a kiss on your forehead as he slipped inside the blanket along with you not even bothering to change his clothes before mumbling a small “goodnight, my love. sleep well.” as he drifted off to sleep with you by his side.

glad to say that you are going to make up for scaring him by giving your undivided attention.

xiaolia writes ! ━━━━ ✦ hope you guys will enjoy this! posting this before leaving lol!

reblogs are very much appreciated

[fresanita]

Angel Dust Turns Human - Pg2

Part 1

I'm so sorry about the quality, idk what size the canvas should be when it comes to comics, this is technically my 1st one☹️. I PRAY it doesn't look crappy on other people's end💔

Anyways, I had drawn these 2 pages (technically 4ish with how I spread them out) within 3-2 days bc I just rlly wanted the idea to get done already🤲 Sorry if the pacing wasn't that good when I introduced Alastor - again, I don't know how to convey that in 'comic form' (?) since this is my 1st, but I tried😔 (it probably needed more frames/pics but I was rlly lazy).

If you couldn't tell (☹️), Alastor & Angel Dust have some backstory (!!!) - Alastor didn't realize until he saw his human form, which looks very different from his Hell form. The majority of this is in Angel's pov, so this is kinda unreliable narrator, in a way. I need to mention, idk if anyone's written/drawn anything w a human in Hell, but my first thought was they'd definitely pass out from the heat usually portrayed - hence the heat exhaustion; Angel kinda passes out before he could fully react. Btw, I don't like how I drew Angel on pg6 so let's ignore it🙏

Also, Alastor pronounces his name as "Antoní", or An-tone-nee, with emphasis on the last sylabel, which is why it's spelled with an accented "i" - I just forgot to use that when I wrote the dialouge💔

My fav thing to draw was him holding Angel's face and carrying him, Parental Alastor fans RISE✊️!

[ranhaitanisgf]

also i'm sorry i forgot to specify it but a scenario!! so, i'll do it again 😹 is it okay to req scenario + enemies to lovers + pocky game + mitsuya. like the game started bc of a dare SKDJDHFJRK OK THAT'S ALL SORRY I JUST WOKE UP

—mitsuya takashi // enemies to lovers // pocky game

☆ ˎˊ˗ HI MEI !!! ik u left tumblr but this combo was so cute !! if u see this i hope you are doing well :))) i kind of didnt follow the combo but i think it turned out alright !! i hope everyone enjoys ! xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.9k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

“(y/n), i dare you to do the pocky game with the president!” 

pausing your work, you took a moment to process what you’d just heard; there was absolutely no way you heard that correctly, right? you blinked, eyes flicking around the other various club members who had also stopped their work, instead looking up to stare at the girl who had burst into the classroom. 

it seemed like she had been running, her breaths coming out in hot puffs as she looked at you with an excited look on her face. there’s no way she was actually serious, right?!

“...huh? what’re you talking about…?” you asked, frowning a bit at her strange request. “you do realize that you’re thirty minutes late to club, right? where’ve you been?” 

yasuda marched into the room, walking right up to you and planting her hands on your shoulders. she was beginning to startle you a bit, though you had to admit that the excited sparkle in her eyes intrigued you; surely, she had a reasonable explanation for this, right?

“(y/n), listen!” she leaned down to match your height in your chair, cupping her hand to the side of her mouth to prevent anybody from hearing her as she started to whisper in your ear, “i just heard something crazy from hayashi-kun!” 

“oh…okay? what is it?” you asked, albeit a bit hesitant. “you’re acting really strange.” 

“he told me that the president has a crush on you!” 

“...excuse me?” 

“yeah!” she leaned back, awaiting a response from you. “isn’t that amazing?! you should go talk to him!” 

you merely sighed, shaking your head and going back to working on your project. as you pulled your needle in and out of the fabric, you pondered for a moment, wondering where such a ridiculous idea even came from. 

“yasuda-chan, there’s no way that’s possible. i’ve literally declared war on him because of how evenly matched we are in sewing. i’m not going to embarrass myself just because hayashi-kun thinks he knows everything! you should know better than to trust everything he says.” you chided. 

all yasuda did was roll her eyes, her lips curled into a smug smirk. 

“now that he told me, i totally see the chemistry between you two! and, since i dared you, you have to do it!!” 

“we aren’t even playing truth or dare right now, what?” 

“you know, just let me-” yasuda snatched your needlework project from your hands, “-handle this! i’m a matchmaker, and you two are perfect!” when you tried to retrieve it, she slipped out of your grasp, already running away and out of the classroom. 

“you’re a highschool student, not a matchmaker?!” you yelled after her. she was long gone at that point, and now that she had taken your project with her, you were stuck. 

you sat back down, sighing as you slumped down in your chair. you had absolutely no idea what she had been talking about, but now that she had gotten the idea in your head, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. mitsuya? likes you? there was absolutely no way it was possible. after all, you had told him that you two were rivals, (you were only 50 percent serious about that) so why would he like you? 

it wasn’t exactly like you were against the idea of him liking you; it was quite the opposite, in fact. you’d always thought that mitsuya was one of the kindest boys you’d ever met, and he was certainly easy on the eyes, (there had been more than one time when you’d caught yourself staring at him). 

you weren’t about to get any hope over something like this though; there was absolutely no way. 

not more than five minutes had passed before the door slammed open again, although this time yasuda wasn’t alone. along with her was a very confused looking mitsuya, who was currently being shushed in response to his inquiries as to what was happening. 

“(y/n), c’mere!” you glanced around, wondering how exactly you were supposed to be acting in this situation. all the other club members just shrugged at you, going back to their own project. it made you want to sigh again, but you didn’t, instead getting up and reluctantly walking over. 

i guess i can kiss my peaceful afternoon goodbye…please come back another day. 

“yo…” you greeted, trying your best to shy away from yasuda. of course, it was to no avail, since you were immediately dragged into the hallway, the door shutting behind you as you nearly lost your balance from her surprising strength. 

from seemingly nowhere, a pair of hands steadied your frame, holding you firmly by your shoulders to keep you from falling. when you looked up, you were met with mitsuya’s familiar gaze, his lilac gaze laced with concern. 

“hey, you alright?” 

of course it’s him. why would it be anybody else?

“yeah, thanks…” you mumbled, taking a step away from him, leaving a healthy amount of space between the two of you. “yasuda, what is this about-?” 

“okay, here!” the girl damn near hurled an object at you, with you barely being able to catch it. “bye!” without another word, she immediately zoomed off, leaving you with a box of pocky in your hands and a very confused mitsuya. 

he laughed a bit out of shock, which made you laugh a bit too; seriously, this was one of the most random situations you've ever found yourself in. 

“so, do you know what’s going on?” mitsuya asked, his face a mix of amusement and confusion. “yasuda-san just mentioned your name then dragged me over here. is something wrong?” 

“well, not exactly…there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding, i think…” you explained, shaking your head. “yasuda’s got it in her head that you have a crush on me, or something like that. she said she heard it from hayashi-kun, so she burst in all like ‘i dare you to play the pocky game with the president’ and stuff, and that’s really all…i know…yeah…” your words tapered off as you talked, watching how mitsuya’s ears and cheeks began to turn a light shade of pink. 

once you stopped talking, mitsuya’s eyes wandered to the side, his ears progressively turning a deeper shade of pink as you stared at him. he chuckled a bit, one of his hands moving behind his neck to fiddle with his hair. 

“i guess i’m caught.” he admitted. “peh-yan can’t keep a secret to save his life, so i knew i would be outed sooner or later. jus’ didn’t expect this soon. ‘m not really prepared…” he muttered, seeming a bit annoyed. “i was planning to have this be a little bit more gentlemanly, but-” 

“wait, you…you like me?” you interrupted, pointing to yourself. mitsuya subtly raised a brow at you, seeming confused at your question. 

“didn’t i just admit to it?” 

“i know, but…i just, i thought that she was being crazy or something! i always thought that there was no way…” when you realized what you had just admitted, you immediately tried to backtrack. “i-i mean! uh, not that you’re terrible, actually, you’re the opposite of terrible, i just meant that i…i…”

“can i?” mitsuya suddenly asked, gesturing to the pocky box in your hands. 

“huh? uh, yeah…” you murmured, holding it out to him. the embarrassment flooding your body now was unmatched to anything you’ve ever felt before; why were you bumbling like a complete fool?!

you watched as mitsuya opened the box, ripping open the wrapping and plucking one of the chocolate sticks out. he held it between his fingers for a moment, seeming to be thinking about something before walking a bit closer to you. 

“just let me know if you want me to stop, okay?” 

“o-okay…what’re you-?” mitsuya slipped the pocky stick between your lips, essentially cutting your words off. he waited for a moment, seemingly waiting for any sort of response as he looked at you. you could hear your heartbeat in your ears at this point; you’ve never had someone look at you with such intense eyes before. 

when you didn’t seem to be rejecting anything, mitsuya moved just a bit closer, one of his hands moving to hover near your jaw. he paused for a moment, waiting before he did anything. when you didn’t move away from his touch, you finally felt his hand move under your chin, gently moving your head to tilt up. 

without any more hesitance, he bit down on the end of the pocky stick, eyes locked on yours. on one hand, you wanted to look away from embarrassment, but on the other hand, you were anticipating and watching his every move, not wanting to look away even for a moment. his lazy lilac eyes were burning with so many different emotions, and you wanted to see all of them. 

slowly, he took another bite, and then another, starting to move closer and closer to you as he kept biting down on the pocky stick. before you knew it, the two of you were face to face, and you knew that if he took one more bite that the two of you would-

a crunch! interrupted your thoughts, and just a moment later you felt velvety soft lips, pressing gently against your own lips. the taste of chocolate briefly filled your senses, and all you could think and feel was mitsuya. 

and then it was over, the boy pulling away gently and giving a small smile. despite how cool and calm he seemed to be, you could tell that he was also nervous and excited from the flush across his cheeks. 

“does that answer your question?” 

“huh? what?” mitsuya chuckled a bit at your confusion; in your defense, you were still delirious from kissing him. 

“remember? you asked if i was sure i liked you.” 

“oh…” you mumbled, recalling that you did in fact ask that. “i, uh…i am definitely not convinced…you should try and convince me.” you tried to say calmly, (you definitely did not say it calmly). 

“hah, i have to finish my tutoring session, but i’ll pick you up after club is out, okay?” he asked, seeming amused at your lame attempt to get another kiss out of him. 

mitsuya seemed like he was about to leave, taking a few steps away and giving you a smile, but he stopped, backtracking to you. 

“just to give you a little more convincing…” he murmured. before you could ask him what he was talking about, one of his hands slipped behind your head, gently pushing you forward a bit as he leaned down, lips carefully pressing against your forehead. he stayed there for a moment before he leaned back, giving you a warm smile. “i’ll see you in a bit, (y/n).” 

“oh, okay…”

“bye.” he chuckled, seeming to be amused by your shell-shocked state. 

“bye bye…” you waved as he walked away, his first few steps being backwards to keep facing you before he turned around, jogging down the hall and eventually out of sight. 

as you kept standing in the hallway, you brushed your fingers against your lips, feeling like they were tingling and on fire at the same time. the taste of chocolate lingered on them, making you remember mitsuya. 

wow…

almost as if you were possessed, you slowly walked back to the club classroom, sliding the door open. what you weren’t expecting was for almost all the home ec’s club members to be pressed against the door, falling back when you opened it. without any words, you all stared at each other for a moment in shock. in an instant, they were all scrambling up from the floor, scurrying back to their places as you continued to stand there, your jaw hanging open. 

oh my god.

[winwintea]

eternally yours

PAIRING ↬ idol!winwin x idol!reader

TAGS ↬ fluff, romance, anniversary, marriage proposal, established relationship, idol au, winwin loves flowers, random sm trainee helps winwin sort his shit out, jaehyun deals magic potions because i said so, technically fantasy au for that, no explicit content but they get VERY intimate at the end, ww calls y/n 'good girl' once bc i'm me, my obsession with hands also seeps through...

SUMMARY ↬ roses are red, violets are blue, sicheng prepared 108 roses for your anniversary, what shall you do?

WORD COUNT ↬ 3.1k+

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ HAPPY WINWIN DAY. i have been working on this fic for a while only because i wanted it to be absolutely perfect. i don't think it's good enough yet, but i hold myself to a higher standard when writing fics for my favs. it's shorter than i wanted it to be too i'm sorry 😭😭 it's wayyy harder cause ww is my ult, but i hope i still do him the justice he deserves, his content is so scarce on here... also sherlisa is a sm trainee that i randomly included for fun lol. lowkey forgot about sm's new girl group until hybe brought it back up again. how is hybe more obsessed with sm groups than me?

SICHENG WAS OVERTHINKING THINGS.

He’d been working non-stop, but he couldn’t deny his mind had drifted—right to his anniversary with you. He’d overheard you talking with one of your friends about how excited you were, how much you were looking forward to it. He wanted to make it perfect, something that would make you happy. Dinner reservations were easy, but they didn’t feel like enough. Should he get a gift? Plan a whole day out? Come up with something else that might be truly memorable?

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even notice when his bandmate, Kun walked in and took a seat across from him, observing him with a hint of amusement.

“Sicheng?”

Blinking, he looked up, a bit surprised to see Kun there. “Huh? Sorry, what did you say?”

Kun just laughed, shaking his head. “Not much. Just that it’s rare to see you this distracted unless you’re really deep in thought.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Sicheng rubbed the back of his neck, trying to brush it off. He didn’t want Kun reading too much into it.

“Lately, it’s like you’re in another world. Everything all right?”

“Yeah, of course…” Sicheng answered a little too quickly, trying to sound casual.

Kun just smirked at him. “You sure? I mean, there’s no comeback, no new schedules, and you’ve been back from China for a while. So the only thing I can think of is…Y/N.”

Sicheng let out a wry chuckle. Kun knew him too well. It was true; every free moment, his mind drifted back to you, to your anniversary, and to how he wanted to surprise you. He hadn’t expected one person could so easily take over his thoughts, filling him with the urge to make every moment with you special. “Alright, maybe you’re right,” he admitted, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “I just…want it to be perfect.”

“Why don’t you just ask her?” Kun pointed out. 

“I’ll try I guess.” Sicheng knew it was a bit silly, but he couldn’t deny how much he’d changed since meeting you. 

After wrapping up work, he headed home, the excitement building as he approached your room. Seeing you lying comfortably in bed, he slipped in quietly and sat beside you, gently brushing his fingers through your hair.

“Y/N…is there anything special you want to do for our anniversary?” He tried to keep his voice casual, hoping to hide just how much he’d been agonizing over it.

You looked up at him with a small smile. “Honestly? Just spending the weekend together sounds perfect. It’s been a while since we did that.” There was a slight hesitation in your voice, as if you didn’t want to ask for too much.

“You don’t have to hold back,” he said softly.

You shook your head, reassuring him, “I mean it, Sicheng. You’re always working so hard; I just want you to rest.”

Sicheng’s eyes softened. If there was ever a time for you to ask for anything, it was now, your anniversary of all days. Reaching out, he brushed the backs of his fingers along your cheek, your smile putting him more at ease. “Honestly? Seeing you smile is what makes me relax when I’m tired. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make that happen.”

He thought back to when your relationship had first become public, some fans were supportive, some fans were not. The two of you saw some of your worst days, the only people to depend on for support was each other. But through it all, you’d both stayed strong, and now here you were, closer than ever.

“Besides, I can rest anytime,” he murmured, as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.

You chuckled and leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Well, I’m really happy that I can help you relax.”

Seeing the happiness on your face, he made up his mind—he’d plan something extraordinary for your anniversary, something that would bring that same beautiful smile to your face, even if you hadn’t asked for it.

—

The next morning, as Sicheng watered his plants, he found himself lingering by the peonies, their delicate petals reminding him of you. Maybe a bouquet would be a sweet anniversary gift? It wasn’t flashy, but it was heartfelt, and he couldn’t help but picture the smile it might bring to your face. As he absentmindedly watered the flowers, his thoughts drifted back to last night. You’d tried to be considerate, downplaying any big celebration just so he could rest. But he wanted you to feel comfortable expressing what you really wanted, even if he had a surprise up his sleeve.

That afternoon, after another agonizing day at that entertainment company, Sicheng made his way to a cozy flower shop owned by a friend’s family. The warm, fragrant air and the sight of bright blossoms felt like a haven from his hectic schedule. A new part-timer greeted him. He immediately recognized her as the new Thai-Chinese female trainee Ten had introduced to her a while back. Sherlisa. That was her name. With a smile, she asked what he was looking for.

“You want a bouquet of roses?” she asked, a curious smile forming from her lips. “That’s a little unexpected.”

Sicheng nodded, almost shyly. Meeting someone from work outside of work hours was awkward for him, especially it being a 19 year old trainee. He was glad dispatch had laid off his back for a while, since he hadn’t seen anyone following him around lately. “It’s for our anniversary. I just… I want Y/N to know what she means to me.”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Oh, so you mean you’re ready to tell her you’re madly in love?”

Sicheng chuckled, glancing down at the counter. It was more than that, though. His thoughts returned to you, the way you’d changed his life without even trying. "My life already belongs to her," he murmured softly, more to himself than anyone else.

When he looked up, Sherlisa’s jaw had dropped a bit. “Damn boy, I knew you were whipped, but I didn’t think you were that whipped. If you’re serious about what you just said then that’s pretty much a proposal.”

“A Proposal?” He’d been so absorbed in the idea of making you happy that he hadn’t considered that. But now that it was out there, the thought settled in his heart with unexpected warmth as he started reflecting over his feelings.

“You want to live your life for her, right?,” Sherlisa added knowingly. “So maybe… make it a bouquet she’ll never forget?”

He could only smile, the decision suddenly clear. “Yeah… you’re right.” Picturing you in his mind, his heart swelled with certainty. Yeah, that’s basically what he wanted to tell her, yes. Ever since the two of you became a couple, his feelings for you have just grown stronger inside of his heart. 

“Sherlisa,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “I need to change the number of roses in that bouquet.”

—

That night, Sicheng found himself outside your room again, his heart beating a little faster than usual as he knocked. 

You smiled at him as you opened the door. “What’s up, Sicheng?”

He cleared his throat, trying to keep his composure. “I wanted to invite you out on a date.”

Your eyes widened, a flush creeping up your cheeks. “A date?” You sounded a little surprised, and it was so endearing that he had to resist the urge to throw his arms around you right then and there.

“Yeah… how about this? We’ll meet in front of SME on our anniversary, and then head somewhere special.” He hadn’t worked out every detail yet, but he had some ideas—something that would make this a night to remember.

“That sounds amazing,” you replied, a bit of hesitation still in your voice. “But… are you sure you’re not too busy?”

He gave you a gentle pat on the head, watching as your smile softened. “Don’t worry. I’ve made sure there’s nothing that could keep me from you that day.”

“All right, then! I’m excited already,” you said, beaming up at him. But, truth be told, it was him who could hardly contain his anticipation.

Leaning in close, he brushed his lips near your ear, his voice dropping to a warm murmur. “And make sure you don’t have any other plans that night, either.”

“O-Of course,” you stammered, your cheeks turning even pinker. Despite how long you two had been together, his spontaneous displays of affection always seemed to catch you off guard.

He smiled, brushing his lips over your flushed cheek in a quick, sweet kiss. “Good night, Y/N,” he whispered, pulling back reluctantly. As he turned to leave, a rush of excitement filled him, and he couldn’t help feeling excited about your anniversary already.

—

The next night, Sicheng made his way to a quiet pub tucked away from the bustling city. It was the kind of place he only went to for close friends— and this one he hadn’t seen in a while. As he entered, he spotted Jaehyun already waiting at the bar, nursing a drink and giving him a casual nod.

“Thanks for meeting me,” Sicheng said, sliding onto the seat beside him.

Jaehyun chuckled. “Anytime. Besides, I needed a night out myself.” He reached into his bag and handed Sicheng a small, glass vial filled with a clear, shimmering liquid. “Here’s the…potion, chemical—whatever you want to call it. If you put it on the flowers, they’ll stay fresh and won’t wilt forever.”

Sicheng took the vial, a wave of relief washing over him. “Thanks, Jae. Really.”

Jaehyun glanced at him curiously, eyebrows raised. “I’ve gotta ask…what’s with the magical flower potion request? You’re usually not the type to go all out on that kind of thing.”

Sicheng hesitated for a moment before taking a steadying breath. “I’m going to propose. To Y/N.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened, nearly spilling his drink. “Propose? As in, marry?” He was definitely shocked, but within seconds, a smile spread across his face. “Sicheng, that’s amazing! I didn’t know you were thinking about it. Congratulations, man!”

Sicheng couldn’t help but smile back, the nerves mixing with excitement in his chest. “Thanks. I’ve thought it over so much lately. And this just…feels right.”

Jaehyun laughed, patting him on the back. “I always thought you’d be one of the last guys in our group to settle down, but it looks like love changes people.” He shook his head, looking impressed. “She must be really special.”

“She is,” Sicheng replied softly, picturing you in his mind. “She’s been with me through everything—the highs and the lows. She’s the one person I want by my side, no matter what.”

Jaehyun raised his glass with a warm smile. “Then here’s to you, man. And to Y/N. May she say yes and make you the happiest guy in the world.”

Sicheng lifted his own glass, clinking it with Jaehyun’s. “Here’s to hoping.”

As they drank, Sicheng felt a new sense of confidence settling over him. The night was filled with laughter, memories, and stories of the past. He had never imagined that his friends would be this supportive during one of the biggest moments of his life, and Jaehyun’s unwavering encouragement made him feel more ready than ever for the step he was about to take.

With renewed determination, he tucked the vial carefully into his pocket, knowing it would be the final touch to make his proposal perfect.

—

It was finally here—your anniversary. Sicheng’s heart raced the entire evening, each little detail of your date building up to this moment. Dinner had been perfect, and when you’d discovered that new cafe for dessert, your face lit up with excitement, making him feel like he’d already succeeded. But the real surprise was waiting back home.

“That dessert was amazing,” you said, still smiling as you unlocked the door.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he replied, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.

As you stepped inside and turned on the lights, you froze, eyes going wide at the sight of a massive bouquet of roses waiting for you on the table. “Oh my gosh!” you gasped, looking between the flowers and Sicheng with an expression of pure delight. “There are so many!”

Sicheng couldn’t help but smile; you were reacting exactly as he’d imagined, if not better. He stepped forward, picking up the bouquet, the roses almost spilling out of his arms. “Today’s the anniversary of the day we became a couple.”

“Yes…” You looked up at him, eyes softening as a sentimental smile crossed your face.

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding. He had been thinking about this moment for days now, planning and preparing. This was it. “Did you know that giving someone 108 roses means asking them, ‘Will you marry me?’”

Your smile faded as you froze, eyes widening even more as you processed what he’d just said.

“I love you so much it makes me crazy,” he continued, his voice filled with emotion. “Since the day I met you, everything I do has been about making you happy. Being with you… it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” He held out the bouquet which was practically overflowing from his arms, his voice soft yet steady. “So, will you accept this and say yes?”

Tears sparkled in your eyes as you reached out, fingers slightly trembling. “Yes, of course!” You took the bouquet from him, clutching it close to your chest, your smile radiant with joy.

Your eyes shimmered with tears, and Sicheng felt his heart swell. This was exactly the reaction he’d hoped for—a sign that you felt the depth of his love.

You lifted the bouquet, inhaling the sweet fragrance. “They’re gorgeous, and they smell amazing… I wish I could keep them forever, so I’d always remember this day.”

He smiled, feeling the joy bubbling inside him. “You can.”

Your eyes widened, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled softly. “Those roses were treated with a special potion to keep them from wilting. They’ll stay just as beautiful… forever.”

“Wait, seriously?” You gasped, looking back at the bouquet with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. Almost like a kid in a toy store. “So they’ll stay like this, and I can keep them forever?”

“Yes.” Your cheeks slowly turned the same deep pink as the rose petals, and he took a step closer, cupping your face in his hands. “You sacrificed so much just to be with me,” he said, his voice tender. “I want to make all your dreams come true, no matter how small they are. Even if you wish for something as simple as a flower, I want to give it to you. I want to give you everything.”

You gazed up at him, emotions swirling in your tear-filled eyes. “Sicheng…”

“I want to spend the rest of my life making up for anything you’ve lost,” he whispered. “Because you’re the person I’ve been searching for all along. And I want to stay by your side forever, just so I can remind you every day how much I love you.”

He pulled you gently into his arms, holding you close. Your head rested against his chest, and he could feel the warmth of your embrace, the quiet joy that had always connected you two. 

Sicheng felt as if his heart might burst. He gently cupped your face, his eyes filled with a sincerity that spoke louder than words. "I love you more than anyone in the entire world,” he murmured. It was rare for him to voice his feelings so openly, but tonight, they poured out effortlessly, the depth of his love shining through in every word.

A warm smile spread across your face, and you whispered, “I love you too, Sicheng. So please… stay with me forever.”

“Of course I will,” he replied softly, his gaze steady. 

As you gazed into each other’s eyes, you felt the air grow thicker with a shared warmth. Unable to resist any longer, he leaned in, pressing his lips softly against yours. The kiss was gentle but full of promises, and when he pulled back, he took the bouquet from your arms, setting it carefully on the table.

Without a word, he swept you up into his arms, drawing a startled laugh from you. “Sicheng?” you whispered, cheeks flushed.

He grinned, feeling a sense of boldness he rarely indulged. “I want to see your smile from closer up.” Your scent drifted up to him, light and sweet like the roses you’d been holding, and he couldn’t help but lean in, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

Your cheeks turned pink, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “O-Okay…”

“Good girl,” he whispered, feeling your heart beating wildly against him as he carried you to the bed. As he gently lowered you down, you hesitated, fingers slowly releasing their hold on his neck. He brushed a soft kiss on your cheek, his fingertips trailing over your face and down to your lips.

He leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. “I want to see you the happiest you’ve ever been.” His fingers caressed your cheek, moving to your slightly parted lips. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it for you.”

You gazed up at him, your breath warm on his cheek. “You’ll do anything?” you murmured, an unmistakable glint of joy in your eyes.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice filled with certainty. “Name it.”

Your eyes dipped down shyly, and after a brief moment, you said softly, “Okay… I want you to stroke my hair.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he nodded, his fingers gently combing through your hair. You closed your eyes, your expression melting into one of pure happiness. “Your hands… they’re so big and gentle,” you whispered, your voice almost dreamlike. “I love them.”

He smiled, his heart swelling. “I’m glad to hear that.” He continued to run his fingers through your hair, brushing a tender kiss on your forehead. “Anything else?”

You looked up at him, your gaze softened with affection. “I want you to kiss me…”

His lips curved into a warm smile, and he leaned down, his mouth finding yours in a tender, lingering kiss. The world faded away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, quiet moment, wrapped up in each other. He kissed you again, and again, savoring each touch, feeling his love deepen with every brush of his lips against yours. Your breath hitched, and he could feel the echo of his heartbeat mirrored in you.

He was yours, eternally yours. He’d spend his life by your side, sharing each joy, every little moment, every kiss, forever and always.

PERM TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @ldh0000 @peterm4rker

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter 11 — "you promise?"

—Deep Down.

Toc/cw; ateez being absolutely fking whipped for you. Mutual pining(they don't know its mutual tho). unironic use of alpha(I'm sorry ik it's bad). omega, omega, and more omega. (you'll understand that soon) fluffy but also really angst but dw it's gonna be okay I SWEAR. You overworking, mention of diet culture (for one line) and the struggles of being an idol, suggestive undertones towards the end. If I forget warnings, it's bc I don't know or forgot to add them.

There's a forbidden trail you follow. One you never thought you'd be led on. Wooyoungs hands are firm and soft when he pulls you along, and your tears dry quickly. Something you've gotten used to with time, the way his soft, smooth hand holds your own. You wish to be able to feel them for the first time again.

The first time. It was a fan sign. It's one of the first ones. You can't believe how nervous you were, yet you stood your ground and faced the crowd. Deep and methodical breaths filled your lungs.

Wooyoungs hand slips into yours under the table, out of view from everyone. If it was accidental, he doesn't seem to notice. Back then, you were just as small and niave. He squeezes once. Then twice. You wait. Feeling as if you should anticipate something.

You watch him from the corner of your eye. With his free hand, he waves, on his chubby face is a smile. His purple hair sways from the fans overhead. You want to push it out of his face.

You squeeze. Not once. Not twice. But three times. 'I love you.' The three squeezes. Letting the words echo in your mind. You don't expect him to know it. Something you learned when you were a kid in a foreign place, pretending to know what those words actually meant.

He squeezes back, one time.

You don't even pull your head up to look at the car. Don't even bother to watch where you step when you get into it. Wooyoung does the guiding for you. Doubtfully. Messily. He's never been good on his feet unless he was dancing.

That's not true, but he wants to make it seem like he's not nervous at the realization.

You, the beta of the pack. The one he's got closest with as soon as you met. You, the slick smiling, bias wrecking, only girl, 9th member of his permanent group. You, who he loves to squeeze, tease, and mess around with. the most calm, level-headed, beta person he knows.

The alpha can't believe it. Well, not to stereotype. But he's definitely stereotyping when he says you are- were the definition of beta.

You're an omega? He doesn't understand it himself.

It's a flashback to the day seonghwa found your bottle of scent suppressants.

It takes him a while to realize what it is, fiddling with the bottle in his hands.

"What's this for?" He asks, yunho. His left eyebrow raised. Yunho sits across from him on the free couch. He sits on the edge, scratching at his hair. The energy he holds is as if he's about to defend the reason he slipped the bottle into seonghwas hand when they got through the front door from filming. And he does.

"Have you been noticing anything off with her?" He points to the bottle, eyebrows raised. Seonghwa tries to connect the invisible dots yunho is throwing at him.

He nods. But he speaks up, "she's been different since she came back from the hospital. She's tired." He defends your honor even if it isn't something you said directly. Seonghwa looks back down at the yellow label. 'New Box' is the headline of the bottles sticker.

'Scent suppressants for all sexes, works best for omegas and betas' the smaller fine print says under it.

"Did you steal this from her bag???" Seonghwas jaw drops, he finally connects some of those invisible dots. A picture is beginning to form.

Yunho shoots up from his seat, pacing between the couches. "I did, but earlier today at the monitor, you remember, yeah?" Yunho looks to seonghwa briefly. His hand falls to his hip.

"Yes.. and?" How could seonghwa forget the display his younger membered showed with you? He had half a mind to turn away and walk. It's not like he was jealous, not with yunho.

He's just not a big fan of being touchy in public, but he wouldn't have mind if he was there, telling you you're perfect along with yunho. He doesn't think about it any further.

"When I was showing her the monitor, I leaned over, and when I did, I smelt.." yunho rubs a hand down his face. "I smelt her, really her," even yunho sounds crazy to himself.

"You know that artificial smells she's had since she came back?" Yunho jumps to the deep end. "Yeah?" Seonghwa sighs. Yunho takes his seat across seonghwa again. "That's what that is, and since I helped myself to her bag. I found a bunch of other things too"

Seonghwa doesn't want to pry into your personal stuff. But yunho doesn't sound too far-fetched. Yunho pulls out his phone, handing it to seonghwa. On the screen is a picture. The first thing he sees is a couple of small roll on perfumes. Clear, tiny fluid filled bottles without labels. A couple of medications he knows you keep on hand. Headache relief and sore body relief pills. Your tiny knick nacks take up the bottom of the bag, it's endearing really, everything in the bag screams you.

'Heat suppressants'

His eyes bulge. He zooms in with the pads of his fingers, zooming in on the bottle. Like birth control, it's got a subtle design to blend in.

Seonghwas heart leaps to his throat. He blinks, at a lost of words. "Thats not all" yunho leans behind the couch tucked against the wall. Where he pulls out something he hid.

Yunho throws the brown bag he recognizes from earlier this week, from when you got back from the hospital. The bag san grabbed. It's zipped open.

Tea bags and cake recipes in plain boxes. Shampoo and conditioner seonghwa is unfamiliar with. Perfumes and bottles of lotion he knows none of the guys or you use. But most distinctly is the smell of you. The scent of you. Vetiver, pumpkin, ambrette, and morning rain. There's the linger of alcohol and artificial scents in it.

Artificial beta you. It's surprising since it's coming from a bag and not the direct source that is your comforting aroma.

"She's an omega" yunho breathlessly says, taking the words straight from seonghwas' thoughts. The news isn't as shocking as he thought I'd be, it's like he already knew deep down.

Hongjoong doesn't know anything about that. The day he returns to the apartment at 4 am, he's surprised to see you wrapped up all comfy on couch. For a second his eyes watch the screen flicker across your soft features.

And when he takes his seat next to you, his hand drifts to find you. Subconsciously, his finger touches the soft skin on your ankle. He doesn't dare move any further.

He knows his hand is cold, his rings even colder. When you shiver, but don't pull away. You unconsciously drive him crazy. The back and forth conversation is at the very back of his mind. He misses you. He missed you a lot. And since he's been so busy, he hasn't gotten the chance to actually be there with you ever since you got back.

That week without you was miserable.

"I wanted to wait for you," your soft voice says. It echos in his head and peirces the silence that settles over the two of you. God, if only you knew how long he's been saying that for years to imaginary you that loves him equally so. Whenever you got close, and he wanted to lean in and kiss you all over.

But it's all in his head. And that's where it'll stay.

When your hand grips his, he leans in so you're not contorting yourself. "Lay with me?" You don't have to ask twice. Hongjoong scoots up right next to you. He drinks in your makeup free face, bare skin on display. A little breath you let out has him looking down at your plump lips, he quickly looks back up, hoping you didn't catch his stare.

"Nightmare?" He whispers, that's the only reason you stayed up, that's the only reason you want him so close. It's his duty as the pack captain to keep you safe in his close proximity. He pushes out his scent, hoping to ease you.

Your soft breathing fans his face, your droopy eyes slowly closing. His favorite smell in the entire world is you. Distant Vetiver. He breathes out. Watching your face relax. Soft Pumpkin. His hand falls over your hip. He wants so desperately to pull you closer. ambrette, and morning rain. He didn't know morning rain could smell like anything, but it's you.

You. It's always been you. All day, ever since you walked up that hill and gave him the most content of hug when you got back, the smell you unconsciously pushed out from the scent gland on your neck. he's been thinking about it.

You don't smell like those familiar scents anymore. You smell completely different now.

Sweet sugary nectar that enraptured his every being. And he isn't upset about it. Something in him is very fond of it.

When he wakes up the morning after. He doesn't want to move an inch. But he knows if he doesn't, your neck will be sore from the awkward way it lays on his arm. He sits up slightly, wordlessly wiggling his arm from under your head. He makes sure it doesn't fall with his hand cushioning you.

For a minute, he doesn't slip his hand from behind your head. His right thumb caresses your cheek, soft and shallow. You lean into his touch whilst you sleep, and he smiles down at you, a small snicker passes his lips at the situation. He bites his grin back.

Hongjoong wants nothing more than to be wrapped around your finger. To be the guy you want. To take care of you like you do him.

Hongjoong wants you to come to him with the truth when you're ready.

Jongho walks past your room. Once, twice, five times. Every time he wants to knock, he hears you on the other side. And he freezes up. He's like some lovesick puppy crawling at your door, whining to be let in.

Fuck it.

He knocks and pushes your door open. You're spread on the bed, your comforter and sheets scrunched up around you. The sun from behind him casts on you like an angel. The hue of sleepiness in your eyes when you lock them with his has him gulping nervously.

"Want to get some breakfast?" He sighs into his words, letting the anxiety out. Your smile- That makes jonghos' heartbeat thump loudly in his ears- lights up your face.

"Yes"

The walk is short, something jongho isn't fond of when he gets the chance to have these moments with you. Your shoulders bump. And he pulls the door open for you. The crowd only makes him walk closer to you.

You wrap your arm in his. Do you know what you're doing? You're killing him. Truly. Even the tiny things hold him hostage.

When he goes to order, you don't cut him off. That's the first red flag he sees. You're so independently you. It's custom for you to do so.

When you lean up to whisper in his ear. That's the second one. You never lean up to anybody. Usually, people lean down to hear you. Not the other way around. Still, he meets you halfway.

Jongho slides next to you, the excuse of it's too crowded on this tip of his tongue if you ask. You never do. You don't pull away when his shoulder bumps yours. "How's your elbow?" His fingers graze your arm.

You look up at him, your brows crease. It's then jongho thinks about how short you are. It distracts him only for a second.

You respond simply, shrugging him off. That's red flag number three. Jonghos eyebrows furrow, and his face pulls at his mask.

"If it wasn't, why were you in the hospital for a week?"

He watches the war of emotions flash your features. And that's the final straw for him. You clearly lie when you mumble out an excuse. He wants to press you. What are you lying about?

Why would you lie?

"Tests? What for?" He leans on his shoulder, staring at you from over the black mask on his face. He takes charge of the conversation. He waits.

"Because i.. because I'm a -" Ding!

The ding signifies jongho clicking everything into place. It's like a puzzle he's been working on. How you smelt different when he hugged you after you returned. How docile you looked this morning. How you leaned up into him. How you grabbed him. All of this is so uncommon for you.

Jongho is so used to you looking throughly messy in the morning. It's not something he dislikes (he likes how you look always), but it's so you to be messy. You leaning up into him, he doesn't ignore the way you take a big inhale in his ear before you speak. It's not his imagination. These things are so unlike you. Yes, you are the beta standard. Everyone agrees. Even you. But this.. You're being so.. he can't wrap his head around it.

Because.

He walks up to the counter, taking everything he ordered in his strong grip.

Because you're an omega and jongho is the alpha who figured it out.

Jonghos feet past faster than yours on the concrete. He doesn't slow down because he's locked in thought. He doesn't even notice when he sets a tone he didn't mean. He's gotta ask someone else about this.

He's got to figure something out.

Mingi is so clueless when it comes to you. Mingi is.. actually very clueless all the time. When yunho bursts into their shared bedroom. Ripping off the blanket from mingi. He's got half a mind to sit there, blinking his eyes in a sleepy daze. Yunho explains his master plan.

Mingi doesn't register any of it until yunho tells him a second time.

Mingi isn't unhappy about being told by yunho that you're an omega. He's completely still out of it. He's mostly unhappy he didn't figure it out himself.

It's very mingi to come to your room with a pillow that smells heavily like him. Your room is the most comforting in the apartment. He likes to think he contributes to it because his scent lingers in your bed the next morning. A certain possessiveness mingi indulges in.

Your sleepy face turns towards him. Beckoning him in.

He forgets the story yunho prepared for him.

You are so pretty. "Can I sleep in here tonight?" He fiddles with your doorknob when you look at him. He knows if the media got wind of how pretty you actually are, they'd be all over you in a second. He's somewhat happy the makeup artist don't do your specific features justice. When you let him in, he kicks his feet when he falls on your bed. The bed that smells like you.

The sugary sweetness under the mask of your beta scent is something he particularly takes a full second to shove his face in.

"I sleep better in your bed," he finally says, pulling his face up from your spot that smells specifically like you and no one else. Your fingers pull the glasses off his nose. He forgot he even had them on. As you lean over to put his glasses on your side table. He takes an indulgent whiff of you.

"It's because my room isn't messy," he can hear the smile in your words. It makes him smile. He bites his cheek gently. In the silence he tries to remember what yunho wanted him to say.

"I'm sorry again," he murmurs. And like you always do, you reassure him. It isn't his fault. There's no witty remark, something you usually make because you prefer to keep things light and he knows that.

Your excuse doesn't make him upset either, he doesn't think anything you do will make him upset. When he says something that makes you laugh, his heart pumps blood up his neck and his cheek grown warm.

He knows he's awake enough that it's not the drowsiness that takes over his next moves. Mingi searches for your hand under the pillow, when he finds it, he pulls it closer to his side. A satisfied sigh leaves his parted lips.

The softness of your skin to mingi is like falling into a basket of bunnies. Okay, maybe he's being dramatic. But his thumb caresses you like he would a bunnies ear.

What does he say now?

"I'm here if you ever need anything" it slips outs, his finger parts your thumb to intertwine his fingers between his. The scent glands between his fingers meet yours. A passionate and forward display of affection that mingi soaks in.

Until you pull away. And the faint crack of his heart rings in the dark room.

San and yeosang share the space at the top of the tower, prideful, they watch you lean and maneuver yourself. San is doing most of the shouting.

As soon as you get close enough, yeosang is pulling you over. Praises stop just as he's about to say them. The whiff that comes with you is sweet and all-consuming. San smells it, too.

You take it with you when you run to the table. Your smile is beaming. But San and Yeosang don't smile back.

Shock hangs in the air. Yeosang and san only stare in shock when you pull out something. Rolling it over yourself.

Afterward, you run without looking back. Yeosang doesn't know exactly what to do. Neither does San.

When they meet up at the bottom of the tower, San pulls hongjoong aside whilst wooyoung pulls yeosang aside. "What happened? Where is -" He asks his best friend with worried eyes. Yeosang doesn't know whether or not to tell him.

"I.." yeosang looks anywhere else. Wooyoung doesn't wait for yeosang to answer, pulling him over to the boys who crowd San and Hongjoong.

"I don't know where she went." San throws his hand up. Hongjoong steps back with his hands on his hips. Somewhere around here they will be called back to set and you will be missing.

Wooyoung is utterly confused, "what's going on?" He asks, and everyone goes silent. He steps forward, repeating himself louder this time.

"She's an omega," San says quietly, glancing at hongjoong and then back at wooyoung. Whatever response wooyoung was expecting, it certainly wasn't that.

And now that you're all caught up. Wooyoung storms the entirety of the building searching for you. Any hint of your freshly dyed hair, scent, or perfume is another lead to getting to you. Letting an omega, one distressed and upset loose around a building where, yes good people are, but there is bad somewhere. Everywhere. And he especially told the guys about this.

"You let OUR pack member go? When she's extremely upset? Did anyone even- by herself! She's still healing and you let her go off by herself!?"

Yes, maybe he's being more mature than he's even seen. It shocks himself more than his members. And when he finally finds you, a different weight falls over his chest. Your sobs and tears are the last thing wooyoung wants to hear or see. Softly, he reaches out. You pull away, upset, you say words that have wooyoung pulling his lip between his teeth to prevent barking back anything he could say in the moment that'll hurt your feelings more. You're highly sensitive right now.

Wooyoung doesn't know if he's ever seen you cry like this before. Doesn't even remember an instance he's ever seen you so upset. The first time wooyoung saw you crying, you let a few fall, wiped them away, took a deep breath. Then you got up and continued with your day. Just a few tears compared to the river you are at the moment.

He wants to wipe them away and pull you into his chest. He can't, though. You're irratic, lost in your own head, and nothing he's currently saying will get to you.

He chances it. "Omega, please." he calls to you.

It's like a switch. You look up at him with puffy eyes. The shock on your face makes wooyoung feel terrible. It should have been something you came to tell him about. It's not something he overheard from someone else like gossip. It shouldn't have been.

As soon as the car comes to a slow stop at the apartment, you can't bring yourself to walk up the stairs or even get out.

You know, as soon as you get out and stay locked up in your room, once the guys return, someone will come to ask questions. That things will change from what you're used to. And you'll lose something valuable. It's just a sneaking suspicion. But to you, it's the ever growing truth.

"Chen? Could you please take me to the dance studio?" You ask, staring up at the building. Chen, bless his heart, takes a second to think about it. Worry creases his graying eyebrows.

The dance room is a breath of fresh air. The familiar space takes away your thoughts.

And now that you're in this familiar space, you do what you do best. You dance to distract yourself. Your phone hooks up to the speakers, blaring loudly. Music beats your eardrums, and your heart does, too when you move about freely.

Your newly dyed hair sticks to your face. Your clothes aren't very dance worthy but you've wore more uncomfortable ones on stage. Your low waisted jeans stick to your skin, along with the hoodie sweater you wore. You're sweating heavily.

You don't even have your purse to reapply your scent blockers. It doesn't matter if you did. You don't care who knows anymore. Your manager isn't here either. A giant no-no. You left filming, an even bigger no-no. And now no one knows where you are except for Chen, the ultimate no-no. You trust him not to say anything, though.

You might get removed from the group for this. You might get blacklisted. Kicked off the face of earth. And you wont know until they tell the media. You wont know until atiny find out. But what does it matter when nothing matters to you at the moment. You've never broken your contract rules. No dating? Not even when you were a trainee. Keep up with diet culture? Who needs food anyways. No partying? You got it, boss. No smoking? You don't like smoking anyway. Get used to wearing irritating makeup and the stuck-up people you deal with on a daily basis? Gladly.

Never, never allow yourself to get comfortable. The fear of never being enough will keep you on your toes, perform until you pass out, sing til your lungs hurt, and write lines until you can't feel your fingers. Work endlessly 24/7.

You fall to your knees, breathing heavily. Your head meets with the cold wood floor. You lean against it for support. Breathe. You're trying. Continously heaving for breath. You wrap your arms around yourself, your knees pull into your chest against the floor your head still is tucked on the wood.

The burden taken on every day is your own. The way you work yourself to the brink of death is your own doing. Your manager has told you this before, even in your day off. Everyone you know has said the same thing, everyone knows how hard you push.

"You've earned it," Kimmie celebrates. Handing you a cupcake. "You debuted!" She cheers, blowing on a whistle, you stare down at the pink frosting in shock. "I'm so proud of you"

Years later, are you proud of yourself, though? Years later, are you willing to let your dream die? Years later, are you willing to risk everything? To tell them how you really feel, why you are the way you are now? How you became this way?

The door to the dance practice room stutters open. The foggy glass gives away your position inside along with the bright lights. Your breathing is all caught up, but you still keep yourself as low to the floor as you can.

Don't look, pretend you're not here, please. Please.

A warm hand meets your back. You can't hear anyone over the music. It stops abruptly. The silence is suffocating, just like the jeans you're wearing. Just like the hoodie you have on. The cold of the floor caresses your sweaty forehead, that is, until someone's hand wedges between it and you.

Softly pulling your head off the floor, yeosangs lean pale arms come into view. Your face turns in his direction, a deep set pout and fear in your wide eyes. He's squatted next to you, his knees on the floor must be uncomfortable. His hand brushes the hair off your hairline back. Words are stuck in his throat.

"It's okay." he whispers just to you, sighing at the end. Your eyes fall into a squint at the floor, and your nose scruches. He takes a second, thinking over his next move. He decides to guide you into his chest. He doesn't overthink it. Maneuvering your arms to wrap around him.

Yeosangs arms wrap around you. he's comfortable and caring, his heart beats down next to your ear. He doesn't really know what to do with his hands, he's not very good with touch. But he's trying for you. He lands softly on the floor, sitting on his butt and pulling you closer into the gap between his lean legs. His hand rubs on your arm, the other hand on your hair strokes it behind your ear delicately. Lemonade tea and cocoa butter stripes the stress off your shoulders, yeosangs scent is addicting. Like a warm blanket.

"I'm sorry, I'm okay" you try to reassure. Who? You don't even know. Yeosangs head nods over your hair, he doesn't believe you thus why he keeps pushing out his scent to calm you. But he let's you say it anyways. The door opens once again, scraping against the wood sharply.

"Did you -" it's jongho, his words fall short. He turns around and walks back out the door. The distant shout in the hallway signals that this is real and jongho is calling the rest of the guys.

You don't know if you can do this.

You pull away from yeosang, taking one final deep breath. These emotions that choke you are unwelcome. You need to get your shit together. You need to act like an adult and take care of the issues you cause. Yeosang pulls his hands back and stands up from the floor.

You take a full second to follow. Just in time, the manager bursts through the door, right behind him is jongho. Jongsiks hands grip your shoulders. "You okay?" He words out, the older man concerned. You adore jongsik like a father. He's your favorite staff member.

You nod, straightening your lips into a thin line. Jongsik scans your face as if decoding your answer like it has a secret meaning. He nods after, pulling you along with him down the hallway.

Your phone is on its last life, 2%. How long were you in there for? 10 pm, the clock flickers. Finally, it shuts off. Completely gone is the comfort of your phone. You sigh. Behind you, yeosang and jongho trail back. It's silent even when you step out of the building.

The night air nips your nose when you wait for jongsik to pull around with the company car. Yeosang stands on your left, awkward, looking anywhere else but at you. Your arms subconsciously wrap around you. You're cold, but you won't admit it. You won't say you're cold, not when the tension is so thick and making you claustrophobic.

The whiff of fresh florals, mahogany, charred sandalwood- you know this smell, it's jongho. You turn to look at him on your right. He shoulders off his black jacket, sticking it out to you without another word. You don't want to take it, don't want to give him another reason to pity you in this moment. But the look in his eyes when he stares so deeply into yours says 'go ahead'. You look down as you take it, unfolding your arms and shuffling it on. It's all the smell of jongho, every last bit of him. Every hint and detail.

You subtly sniff it as you shuffle around. Leaning on the balls of your feet. Jongho doesn't have another jacket on, just a thin brown hoodie. His eyes look ahead at the empty street, and his large palm wraps around his forearm while his other arm swings loosely by his side. He looks as if he didn't just hand over his jacket to you. He looks normal in the chaos that swirls around you. His soft eyelashes flutter, his heart-shaped lips part.

He's so boyfriend coded, you think. The thought makes you turn away. Where did that come from?

No one takes the front seat, you wonder why, when you first got in the car you sat in the middle, you're so used to sitting in the middle so the guys have room to move around, squishing them together seems cruel. You don't even think about scooting over. Yeosang takes your left whilst jongho takes your right. It doesn't even bother you when you when the potholes make you bump into yeosang. Or even when jonghos big shoulders lean into your spot.

All of that lingers under the anxiety pouring out of your pores. You're mentally sweating profusely. What the hell are you going to say? How are you gonna explain you went into heat? It is so embarrassing explaining to the eight guys you love (more than friends, you've always known) that you were locked up in a room having to do the do with yourself for a week. Perhaps you should have your priorities straight instead of wondering about that.

Your face feels like it's heating up from the embarrassment you're gonna feel.

The apartment is a little less cold than the hallway. The door shuts behind yeosang. Signaling to everyone else you've just gotten back. Jongho types away on his phone, no doubt texting someone. He heads straight to where the kitchen is. Your eyes don't follow. Instead, you take off his jacket and hang it up in the closet. Yeosangs hand brushes yours when he does the same from next to you. You don't stop to stare, and neither does he.

The living room is normally spacious, but you feel claustrophobic in the setting you've comfortably gotten used to. You take your seat on the couch, and your head falls into your hands. Your palms rub at your eyes, pushing away the sleep clawing to consume you in its grip.

The night light of the city cascades against the dark apartment. You watch your vision blur the shapes together that dance on the wall across you. Your shadow smack dab in the middle, hunched over to hide into yourself. Yeosang moves about in the darkness, walking towards the kitchen himself. Just out of your view, you hear the chit-chat of the guys. They must all be in the kitchen trying to learn how to start a conversation with you.

You take the lead, pushing yourself to stand up. You take one deep sigh. And walk toward the kitchen yourself. The chitchat dies as you come into view, you learn against the entry, your hip meeting the cold countertop. The majority of the guys are still dressed. They must all have been out looking for you. Your head falls down, shamefully.

"Three weeks." You start, voice small. You clear your throat, shaking your head towards the floor. "I've been like this - an omega for three weeks" Your arms cross over your chest. The silence eats away at you.

"I-" "Why didn't you tell us?" Mingi says, hongjoong stares daggers at his face. Possibly hoping to quiet him. "I. I didn't.." You're tired of lying. You swipe your finger under your eye. "I was told not too," you speak clearer, looking up. All eyes are on you.

"They told me not to tell you guys. They said they were gonna sit us all down and explain it. Keep it under control until they have a statement to the press for my absence and my new sex.." You get more silent as you continue. Confidence deteriorating. "I didn't want to lie, but I.." You stop there, sighing heavily.

"How?" Hongjoong asks, eyes glance to him but the majority of them stay on you. You know exactly what he's asking. "I don't know, really. it started just a couple days before practice, I wasn't feeling well. Seonghwa, yeosang. You two noticed my scent was off and I still didn't think about it until I collapsed." You kick your foot, looking towards the two members you mentioned.

Seonghwa and yeosang look like sirens of the night. Their eyes peirce you. "I still don't know the exact cause of the change. The doctors said a few different things. I won't know 'til I get a call." You honestly say. The silence lingers in the air again.

"When is your-" a hand slaps over mingis mouth, it's jonghos, he holds mingis head to prevent him from moving out of his grasp, mingi struggles. It's funny, yet you dont laugh, only smile the tiniest bit. "When is your heat?" Wooyoung finishes for him, all eyes on him now. Well, more like all shock directed at him now. Mingi stops struggling, both he and jongho stare at wooyoung like he grew a second head.

"Less than two weeks" you bite your cheek, facing the bold question head on. "Actually, i had my first one while i was gone." your head falls back towards the floor. The wood planks are so very interesting. Wow. "I've been taking heat suppressants to bide the pain.. but I don't know. I won't know until I get there."

Silence again.

Seonghwa coughs, turning around. He breaks the silence as he moves bags on the counter. "Most of us had dinner but I saved some food for you" he hands you the solid plate, like its a code word. Each of the guys go to do something else, moving around and doing their own things. Plastic wrap covers the plate, you stare down at it in your hands.

The change of the conversation makes you trip on your thoughts. "You're not mad?" You blurt out, looking up at seonghwa who goes to pass you. He stops, surprised, he turns. "Mad?.." he mumbles, looking away as he thinks. "I'm not mad, why would I be?" He mumbles, eyebrows pulled taunt over his smooth forehead.

You blink back, once, then twice.

Seonghwa bites his plump bottom lip, looking to the living room where hongjoong is sitting with his laptop in his lap. They pass glances to each other. A plan under wraps that no one else knows about except for them. He turns back to you, sucking in a breath. Your eyes hold the universe, sparkling when you look up at him. He catches his hand before it reaches out. Scratching the back of his neck. "They're not mad either." He whispers down to you.

Mere centimeters away, the pure smell of you has seonghwa wrapped. If anyone is mad, he's certainly covering for them just because he doesn't want your pretty eyes to shed any tears. "You promise?" It's completely quiet. Seonghwa looks down at your lips pouting out gently.

"I promise." He glances between your eyes and lips. His hand scraps up against the doorway, leaning into it.

The tension is noticeable between the two of you, hanging high in the air. Your eyes never move, neither does seonghwa. In this moment he has you locked in his siren like stare. In the same instance your big worried eyes hold seonghwa hostage. Neither wants to break apart.

"Have you thought about.. who you have to call when your heat hits?" Seonghwa pulls his pliable lip between his teeth again, trying to drag an answer he didn't know he wanted.

Your lips part, your tongue pokes out to wet them. A shining sheen seonghwa wants to drown himself in. "No... I was just gonna endure.." You whisper, cheeks feeling hot. Seonghwa, scans your eyes. "You did it on your own?" He whispers back heavily, his mouth falls open only the tiniest bit.

"Mhm" you nod. He sucks in a breath, images flash through his mind. "Poor 'mega" he sighs just under his breath, his free hand reaching up to rub his thumb just under your lip, he holds your chin "you didn't have your pack to help you, yeah?" He glances down at your lips. It takes all restraint in seonghwa to not turn down and capture you in the passion he's feeling. Your thighs shifting is what catches his eye.

Your sweet smell is stronger in his proximity. Seonghwa wants to drink it in. He has to keep composure. He reminds himself.

He turns away quickly, leaving you in the kitchen. Plate still in hand. You let out the breath you had been holding, holding the plate tightly.

What was that?

Less than two weeks. Less than two weeks you have a decision to make. Whether or not they'll take up your offer, you don't know. But seonghwas display of affection yesterday captured you in the tide of troublesome emotions.

The sun beams through your window, shedding your dark room with lights. The breeze pushes open your curtains. They swirl in the brisk morning air.

You hold the paper in your hands. The mail you hold is very important, very, very important. You have to fill in the blanks and can't change it until your heat after this upcoming one.

The line that stunts you, is your emergency heat contact. The people or person that you should immediately be directed to, to situate you and take care of you when you won't be able to.

The line is blank, it can be left that way.. but you have many names in mind to fill it. You just hope they'll want to be on it.

Why did I write him like that omg(i know exactly why). Thank you for the continuous support, mwuah.

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @unripeapple7 @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog (if you wish to be added to taglist please comment under the main masterlist ♡ thank you)

[screamingforests]

Hi, hello ,:^

I have come here to ask about your Catshifter!reader AU. I wanted to ask, how does Simon feel about reader not liking him and how do we show it(? >:) because yes, we will bite the one masked man that called us strays, how dare he, but what else? Do we go feral every time his mask comes into view?

And also, maybe if we can get some more instances where Kyle is minding his own business and reader decides that yeah, actually I want attention and if you don't give me it, I will go tell on you to Price.

Happy to have found your blog, by the way, welcome >:)

Omg im sorry this took me so long to respond!! Totally forgot my asks were open 😅

Simon is 100% jealous, he wants the love. Especially after you start opening up and spending more time around the boys. I imagine you stay in cat form for cuddles because of the ability to purr and show general contentedness. He tries to be nicer but he's a big man and he's not quite right. That's alright though, he'll do something in the main story line that will help :)

Kitty 100% launches themself at Kyle when they want attention. No doubt of it in my mind. I'm sorta basing them off of my cat(Blender) bc he's a chaotic gremlin but he's also super sweet too.

If Kyle doesn't give you cuddles? Easy, you'll just try and trip him when he gets up.

Obligatory cat pic of Blender:

[browsing-and-anon-asking]

SORRY IM BACK BACK NOW THANKSGIVING WAS SOOOO HECTIC!!!

Sturges

Ruffled that man's hair and honestly held back from making it super oily dude to being a mechanic. I like to think he still tries to keep himself decent

Scruffy face bc yes. You gotta say yes.

Made him more muscular. He's used to making big metal sheets around imo, and is known for trying to work on power armor

Overall pants are ripped/ burned bc I'm sure that there have been times his work gets dangerous.

Arm scars/burns bc of the last thing

Tooth gap<3<3<3<3

Arm hairs too. I literally love arm hairs

Arthur Maxson

Darkened his clothes.... emo fuck.

I kinda toned down his beard.

Big outer coat pockets

Tried to make him younger and a bit more toned

BoS patch bc I enjoy it when military factions repeat the mistakes of the past[aka overly worshipping of said flag]

I forgot his eyeshadow, but emo does still do the eyeshadow

X6-88

I did not change much bc he's fucking perfect

I am right. I will not listen to X6 haters.

Changed his uniform bc I like to think of him enjoying keeping his white clothing clean and proving he could go to the wastes and come back completely untouched. It's something he brags about

Changed his rifle a bit, mostly bc I suck at drawing games

Oh, my princess with a disorder. I hope you run away from the institute with me<3<3...

The next poll is in 15 minutes!!! :33

[1-800reki]

Chapter 4: Bro.

i'm gonna die. i have a lisp bc im getting braces.

I KEEP GETTING MADE FUN OF MY FAMILY AND SOME RANDOM GUY IN MY CLASS KMS

anyway.

Pairing: Kusuo Saiki x GN Reader!

'Gyatt!' ← Thoughts!

"Gyatt" ← Speaking!

'Gyatt!' ← Saiki's thoughts!

"Gyatt!" ← Saiki speaking!

'Gyatt!' ← Saiki speaking to one person via mind

masterlist | next chapter!

"Why do I have to answer it?!"

You whispered to Kusuo who was currently being tugged on by Yuuta. You were over at his house because you needed homework answers. He had to babysit Yuuta since his mom was out and he dragged you with him when he felt Teruhashi's presence. The doorbell rang and he was making you answer it. "Because you owe me for giving you homework answers." He said to you as you groan.

Before you both could do anything, Yuuta opened the door. "Um. Cybor Cider Man Number Two! Come quick! You too, Cyborg Cider Man Number Two's partner!" Yuuta said dragging you and Saiki to the door. It was Teruhashi. "Oh! L/n? Saiki? What are you both doing?" Teruhashi asked with a small smile. 'What?! Why is L/n with Saiki?! And why is this little brat calling them Saiki's partner?! Okay, calm down Kokomi. You're perfect. Saiki will fall for you!' Teruhashi thought as Saiki internally groaned.

"Oh, me and Ku- Saiki, were babysitting Yuuta. I live around the corner." You said to stop yourself from using Kusuo's first name. He told you not to since it would draw suspicion. "Oh, how nice! I was invited by Mrs. Saiki so she could teach me how to cook!" Teruhashi said with a smile. 'Beat that L/n! Not only was a perfect pretty girl invited to his house, but his mom likes me!' Teruhashi thought.

"Oh, I love Ku- Mrs. Saiki's cooking! I haven't had it in so long!" You say with a smile. "Oh, you've met her?" Teruhashi asked with a tight smile. "Yeah? We're childhood friends and neighbors." You say with a nod. Kusuo tried to leave but Yuuta kept a firm grip on him. You, Kusuo, Yuuta, and Teruhashi went to Kusuo's house. He was carrying Yuuta, you were right beside him, and Teruhashi was beside you.

"Oh my! Ku, you look like a married couple with Y/n!" Kurumi said to her son looking at you, Kusuo, and Yuuta. Teruhashi awkwardly shifted on her feet. "Oh, Teruhashi, I forgot to buy ingredients and I have a meeting! Could you wait a little while while I attend it and buy the ingredients?" Kurumi said to Teruhashi, looking apologetic. Teruhashi nodded with a polite smile. "It's no worry, Mrs. Saiki! I can wait." She said with a smile.

To be fair, you weren't paying attention. Yuuta and you were having a staring contest. When he blinked, you snickered and he pouted at you. He tugged on Kusuo to tattle on you. "Cyborg Cider Man number two! They cheated!" Yuuta tattled on you. You gasp dramatically. "He's lying. You can't cheat in a staring contest." You say poking his side as he laughed. "You did cheat!" Yuuta said with a giggle.

Teruhashi could only look at the three of you. Kurumi's sentence from before ran through her head. 'Why is L/n so buddy-buddy with Saiki of all people? Saiki's hard to get close to... and L/n isn't the type he would hang out with. So what gives?' She thought looking at you and Yuuta bickering playfully. "Oh um, I actually think I forgot! My parents need me today, it escaped my mind, how about another day Mrs. Saiki?" Teruhashi said bowing to Kurumi as she smiled. "Oh, it's not a problem! I'd love to have you over another day!" Kurumi beamed with a wave of her hand.

Teruhashi nodded politely before leaving the house, and Kurumi soon followed after to head to her meeting. Kusuo sighed before turning his attention back to you and Yuuta who was pulling on your hair as you fought. Five minutes. That's all he asks for. He's never getting peace. Especially not at school, not with what Teruhashi witnessed.

taglist!: @sugurumybeloved, @freakywhenshefaded, @11sophiq, @peskybirdysya, @august-screams-intothevoid, @lovingyeet, @greeningout

SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG :((