#it makes me tag youtube sigh

[nex-eats-eyes]

oh my goodness

Past VS Present VS Future

with each team being represented by one idol group

who cares about bread vs rice vs pasta anymore when THIS was announced

edited to put link here https://youtu.be/rOd7uHiEp9s?si=9vdrntPLzKv_4pWl

[fdrsamericanflagduckfloaty]

I AM GOING F U C K I N G INSANE OVER THIS VIDEO?!?!? HELLO?!?!?!?

WATCH IT??? PLEASE???

IM GONNA SCREAM

[smile-files]

friends, followers, and fellow freaks... should i share my soul-bearing album with my high school compsci teacher, whom i have a frankly ludicrous parent-child parasocial relationship with? or should i pretend to be sane? (genuine question, but i admit it's also very funny)

here is it again by the way :) for some reason i couldn't figure out how to link directly to the playlist before... but now i can! yay

[buggyandthebartoclub]

.

[itsalwaysdark]

read asoue to weeman as a bedtime story he liked it YAYYYY

[screampied]

plz write a domestic toji fic

៹ content tags. ៹ fem! reader, pure fluff, house husband toji, reader is pregnant, toji attempting to cook, petnames.

wc. 1.8k

toji quirks an arched brow in frustration. with a concise glance at his broken watch you bought him for his thirtieth birthday, it reads three am. sighing, the back of his wrist smears a sheet of sweat off his forehead as he gets a good sniff of the cuisine. like always, he stayed up all night, watching those random cooking mom videos on youtube. trying so hard to mimic their recipes and methods but failing anyway. “tch. fuckin’ shit,” he grumbles under his breath, covered in nothing but flour. the sizzling of the pan was quite loud. the smoke detector went off at least four times. he was wearing another thing you bought him. an apron that had the words of ‘kiss the cook’ imprinted near the front in bedazzled little sparkles. “why does it keep stickin’ to the pan.”

as his annoyance grows, he hears familiar little footsteps approach the linoleum kitchen floor. it’s you, his shoulders lower and his mood softens at the sight of you in comfy silk pajamas and a grouchy expression. “toji? ‘s like three in the morning,” and as you take a whiff of the air, you furrow your own two brows. “are you . . cooking?”

“yeah yeah,” he gruffly grouses, going back to whisking the flour. “go back ‘ta bed, baby. almost done. ‘m jus’ practicing.”

“at three am,” you deadpan, a hand rubbing against your plump growing tummy.

so cute, you were a few weeks pregnant yet everything was moving at such an rapid speed. with the way your body was changing so quick, he could barely keep up. toji hears the sass in your tone as you speak and he knows good and well he should be back in bed with you. you wondered why the left side of the mattress felt empty. you waddle over beside him, hugging him from behind. his bulging muscles rub against you and you let off a playful little whine. “tooooji, you need sleep. come back to bed.”

“princessss,” he plays along with a fake pout, his entire hands covered with piles and piles of doughy flour mix. “but ‘m makin’ breakfast for us two,” and with a brief notion of turning the fire down a bit, he utters last minute. “er— three.” and you smile at him not forgetting to include your unborn child.

toji never cooks, it’s always been just you.

it’s not like he was incapable or anything. he’s always found a liking to watching you cook though.

you always prepared him the best of meals, so good that it had his mouth watering, licking the tips of his tongue in sweet sweet relish.

right before you’d got pregnant, you’d pack him the most divine lunches for work, always with such loving care. you’d never forget to leave him a little adoring note or two, wishing him the best of shifts. so the moment you ended up getting knocked up, he wanted to try.

try to do better,

for you.

sacrificing his sleep wasn’t really an issue—he didn’t mind if it wasn’t for you and his unborn baby. and if toji had to learn how to cook simple meals, he’d do that.. despite the struggle it was.

giggling, you stretch your arms over his torso.

“toji . . making pancakes is easy,” you hum, and his muscles relaxes from your gentle touch.

he’s missed you dearly, even though he was only out of bed for at least a good hour now. hearing him swear vulgar curses underneath his breath at messing up the instructions was quite near adorable. peering at the mess in front of you, you take the cerulean blue mixing bowl from him. “you could’ve woke me up if you needed help, you know.”

“i know,” he grumbles, his voice softening a bit.

you pause—toji’s body language seems a bit different. it shifts. he looks a bit ashamed.

once toji turns off the stove, he deeply sighs. “i just wanted ‘ta learn how to cook for us— you know, like as a family. so when the baby’s here, i’ll uh- be prepared. don’t want ya to be doin’ everything, darlin’. y’er gonna be limited to do lots of stuff soon ‘n i jus’ wanna help out a bit more.”

with a smile, you stroke a thumb against your husband’s chin, right near his little scar. “awww,” and there’s an immediate embarrassed scowl stretching against his thin lips.

toji wanting to try more for you made your heart swarm up with a variety schools of butterflies. it flutters and flaps as he spoke. speaking in a soft tone, a thumb swipes a few remnants of flour near the crevices of his lip. “you’re sweet, toji. but i don’t want you stressing out over cooking. ‘s okay, besidessss we can always do it together.”

“eh,” his eye twitches at your smug growing grin. “that’s… not what i meant, mama.”

“don’t eh me. yeah it is, you want me to teach you how to cook like me,” you simper, planting a kiss against the back of his arm. “you wanna learn how to be a househusband?”

toji groans, turning to face you. verdant eyes leer at you for a long time—but he could never stay too vexed at you, you were so adorable, especially whenever you were this enthusiastic.

“that’s not the term i’d use for myself, but i guess,” and he wipes a few pounds of flour off his apron. “don’t worry ‘bout the mess. i’ll clean that up too.”

“i like this new toji.” you tease, leaning up close to press a wet kiss against his temple.

toji buries his hands in his pockets, staring off to the side and trying to ignore the incoming flush setting against his skin.

oh, you had him weak,

weak everywhere—weak in the knees.

he was feeling himself getting soft as the seconds pass. toji couldn’t lie, he was starting to like this new side of his too. he’d never in a million years admit it though. “baby please,” he grunts, switching the sink on to wash his hands. as the water screams out of the faucet, he lathers everywhere with soap before grumbling. “been watchin’ so many of those damn mom vlogs of cooking. was so annoying, wanted to pull my hair out.”

“you could have just asked me for help, silly,” and your arms securely wrap around his beefy body once more. toji’s frame was a lot more broad and built compared to you. he sucks his teeth, leaning into your touch before staring at the kitchen counter. “okay, good. you have all the ingredients . . eggs, flour, milk, umm sugar..”

and as your words continue and you observe his unkempt handiwork, toji clears his throat. “i gave up once the things kept stickin’ to the skillet.”

you let off a pretty laugh that makes his ears twitch. “welllll that’s probably because you didn’t add enough oil or butter to the pan,” and he watches as you grab a nearby stick of butter. you cut near the end part it with a butter knife before spreading it on the middle of the pan.

toji cutely stays quiet, staring intently and taking in everything you’re doing. he’s attentive, he doesn’t wanna miss anything because he’d soon be doing this for you and his soon-to-be baby.

after a few long seconds, you turn on the stove and it starts to sizzle again. “okay, so you mixed the batter, that’s good. now all you have to do is just pour a good amount into the pan and flip it once it’s a brownish color.”

“ehhhh.”

“toji, you wanted to cook so you’re gonna cook.”

“yes ma’am.” he sighs, his tone playful.

some minutes pass before you both finally finish making a fresh, scrumptious batch of pancakes. with your arms wrapped around him, you showed him all the steps slowly. you were patient with toji, helping him pour the batter and mix it. every time he messes up, you’d kiss the edge of his arm, reminding him that he can just try again. he calms down after a while, and you step away to watch him make a pancake of his own. he flips it over, and he has a sly grin—glancing back toward you, hoping you caught that. you did, giving him an encouraging smile before showering him with praise.

it was almost four am and toji was desperately trying to stay awake—you could tell he was struggling to keep his eyes open with how he’s swaying a bit. turning off the stove for the nth time, you set the steaming hot spatula aside before looking in toji’s direction. “we can always eat them when we wake up.”

“we?” he grumbles, combing a hand through his messy strands, giving it a solid scratch.

“yes, we,” and you wrap the heated pancakes with plastic wrap, tucking the undersides of the plate with the material before putting it in the microwave to preserve heat. you then grab onto toji’s hand. “we’re going back to bed.”

with a sigh, he knew he wasn’t gonna win this little spat. toji squeezes your hand back, yet before the two of you could go back into bed, he bends down.

raising your brow, toji gets on his knees before bringing a chaste kiss toward your tummy. “hey little one,” he whispers, rubbing a palm gingerly against the front of your stomach. dark, tired eyes meet yours and he bedaubs a thumb near your the print of your navel poking through your his oversized t-shirt. the cold, frigid texture of toji’s fingertips almost tickles. as he softly runs a finger down the center of your growing belly bump, a bit of flour gets against your clothes. “how are my girls? any cramps or pain i should know about?

girls,

the gender was still too early to determine but toji always pondered about how it might be a girl.

“n- no,” you breathe, moving a few raven strands of hair out of his face. everything felt different, it was as if you were walking with volumes of water stored within you. toji’s always been supportive during your pregnancy, he was trying. he stands up again before kissing the crown of your head. “you still think ‘s a girl?”

“kinda, yeah,” he utters, and a strong arm slings around your shoulders.

toji guides you to bed, not minding your cute slow waddle of a walk. “up we go, c’mon,” and he helps you up the steps, lowly chuckling into your neck at your adorable state. toji was always patient, the moment you finally reach the bed, he pulls down the fat cover so you could climb in. “…. thank you baby.”

“for what?” you slump against the cushioned sheets, slipping off your baby blue socks. toji crawls in beside you, leaning in to switch off the lamp. he still had a bit of flour on his face—and he spots you swiping some of it off with your thumb.

toji groans, acting as if the next incoming sentence was gonna kill him.

“for . . teachin’ me how ‘ta be a good househusband,” he pouts, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “i love you.”

“i love you too toji.”

“i love ya more,” and he lowers his neck to kiss the middle of your stomach. “oh, ‘n papa loves you also, little one. love my girls so much.”

[mrslestappen]

Disease : paranoid ✦ cl16

summary: The fact that you have to work as a Formula One driver's assistant for your final college grade is not the worst of your problems; the true issue is that no one told you that you would become a emotional support human for him.

pairing: charles leclerc x assistant!reader

tags: fluff + angst?, caring charles (tiny bit) + comfort, bad thoughts.

# part one - next part [ series masterlist ]

Everything feels unreal. You're watching the mechanics work in the garage, and the only thing you can think is: has red always been such a pretty color?

It was the first race of the season, and you didn't have much to do yet, they told you that you just needed to make sure that Charles did everything that they asked him to do, and that was easy, thanks to him.

“Have you seen my notebook?" Charles asks as he looks around to see if he can catch a glimpse of the tiny notebook somewhere, you let out a chuckle, grab your purse from the floor and give him what he needs. 

“How is it that you always have everything I need?” he took the notebook from your hands and opened it “I try my best” he gave you a knowing look.

Charles still remembers the first time he saw you at the Ferrari headquarters in Maranello, you had just signed your contract with them and he had just been told that he had a new assistant. 

You were quite awkward and a bit clumsy when he first struck up a conversation with you. He learned that this was your first job, and he made a mental note to make you feel welcome, and also he didn't want you to leave him like the others. 

He tried his best to make you feel as comfortable as possible before the season started, he was patient and generally nice, which was what you really needed at that moment. 

When you made your first mistake and didn't tell Charles that he was supposed to be in a meeting, he took the blame and told Fred that it was his fault. 

You thought he would be angry, but he just said "It's okay, everyone makes mistakes" and in that moment you thank the angels for making him such a nice person. 

"Thank you, Mr. Leclerc" 

"None of that, we are a team you and I, if you ever need help just come to me." 

That was a month ago when you were still new and walking on eggshells trying not to make any mistakes, luckily you got better after all your final grade depended on it. 

"Have you eaten today?" Charles asks, handing his notebook back to you, just needed to check something he thought he should comment on the car in the next meeting they will have. 

"I haven't, but I was about to do so," you told him as you walked out of the garage with him beside you, trying your best not to look at him to see his face, which probably had a disappointed look on it. 

"I thought you said you already ate." 

"I did." 

"What did you have?" 

"Coffee," you mumble softly as you enter the Ferrari hospitality, "that's not food y/n," he scolds you again, you already lose count of how many times he does this.

Charles grabs a plate and starts to put different kinds of fruit on it, "you already ate," he nods, "This is for you," you try to grab the plate out of his hands, but he stretches his arm as high as he can to make sure you don't have a chance to grab it. 

"It's my food, let me grab what I want," he ignores you, grabs your wrist, and walks over to one of the tables. 

He pulls out a chair for you and you sit down, he puts the plate in front of you and sits across from you, motioning for you to start eating, which you do, but not before giving him the meanest look you can.

You take out your phone and play a YouTube video while you eat, it is a bad habit and Charles has told you several times but he still watches with you. 

When you put the phone at the right angle so that you and Charles can see the video without any problems, you notice that he is not watching.

“Mr. Leclerc" you called him but he didn't answer, you sighed softly, you know he heard you. 

"Charlie?" 

"Yes?"

"You have to stop doing that," he tilted his head as if he didn't know what you were saying, "I shouldn't call you that," "Why not?" "Because you're my boss.”

"There's nothing wrong with calling me that, besides it makes me feel old when you call me Mr. Leclerc."

"You are old" 

"I'm twenty-six." 

The look you gave him was enough to make a dramatic gasp come out of his mouth, you were already used to his tactics so you didn't apologize for calling him old. 

When the alarm on your phone went off, you grabbed it and stopped it before it could keep ringing, "Time to go, you have a meeting," you said as you handed him his notebook that he needed for to take notes. 

He gave you a quick thanks, but you grabbed him and raised your hand, he gave you a pout, but you shook your head at that, he took his phone out of his pocket and placed it in your hand, "it was worth the try," he muttered to himself. 

✦ ✦ ✦

While you were waiting for Charles' meeting to end, you took out your laptop and started to finish the assignment you were supposed to send for this month. 

You were quite happy when your professor told you that all you had to do was to send in a report on what you had done, the experience you had gained, and what you had become better at, for your monthly assignment. 

It was a pretty easy assignment since you were traveling around the world and learning things that you didn't even know existed, and since this was your first job, it was easier for you because you were learning a lot of new things. 

“Y/n?" You took your eyes off the computer and looked at the person calling your name, you tilted your head as if to ask if they needed anything but they shook their head and motioned with their hand towards the hospitality door. 

You quickly grab your things and walk to the door to greet your friend, "Did you see what Professor Brown posted in the announcements?" You shake your head and ask, "Is it something important?" "Depends, he wants us to take pictures of what we have been doing lately." 

It didn't sound too bad, if the assignments continued to be like this, you were pretty sure you'd get an easy A. 

"Did you do it?" You ask her, "I did," she nods, "but I came here to tell you because I know sometimes you don't check the announcements," you give her an embarrassed smile, "I'm not that bad," you mutter softly, and she gives you a look, which you shrug off. 

"Well, I'm going back, I'm pretty sure Lando is already out of control again, see you, take care," she gave you a quick hug before walking quickly towards the McLaren hospitality. 

You watched her go and sighed, taking your phone out of your pocket, ready to take some pictures to send with the assignment, "Hey, have you seen Andrea?" You jump a little at the voice next to you, "Don't do that, and yes he’s in your driver's room, are you okay? You've been acting weird since yesterday" you ask him with concern evident in your voice, but he quickly shrugs it off and tells you that he is fine. 

You make a mental note to ask him later. "I'm going to exercise, go to my driver's room if you need anything, okay?" You nod, take his phone out of your purse and hand it to him. 

He quickly says goodbye and walks away before you can say anything else to him, you have noticed that Charles has been acting strange since you arrived in Bahrain. 

You have been meaning to ask him about it, but every time you get the chance he seems to run away, which is so unlike him. 

You snap out of your thoughts and head back into the hospitality area, ready to take some pictures and send off the assignment. 

✦ ✦ ✦

Practice one is about to start and everyone is running around making sure everything is perfect. The only thing that seems not to be here is the driver. 

"Y/n, where is Charles?" Fred asks, you want to shrug your shoulders but then you remember that this is your job, and you should know where he is, you look at him and tell him you're going to get Charles, and he gives you a thumbs up.

You look for Charles everywhere, including his driver's room and the hospitality area. Has he left? You were pretty sure you saw him a few minutes ago.  

How can a person disappear so quickly? you even ask people from other garages and they haven't seen him. 

You tried to call him, but his phone was dead, it didn't even send you to voicemail. 

"Y/n!" You hear someone yell your name and quickly turn your head towards Carlos, he seems out of breath, and you can see his chest rising and falling faster than normal.

"Charles is in my driver's room, I don't know what happened," he said, but that was enough for you to start running towards the Ferrari driver's room. You still shouted a thank you to Carlos and that seemed to have caught the attention of other people who looked at you strangely.

But you did not care about that, you needed it to find Charles and to make sure that he was ready to get into the car. 

You reach the driver's room trying to catch your breath as much as you can, you probably look terrible with hair sticking in your face from how much you've been sweating, you want to kill him for making you suffer like this.

You were now outside Carlos' driver's door and you could hear soft mumbling, was he talking to himself?

You knocked softly on the door and waited for an answer, when you got none you decided to open the door. 

"Charles how can-" you couldn't continue as Charles was lying on the floor with his hands on his head rocking back and forth as if trying to calm himself down, your thoughts of scolding him left you just by seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

You walked as slowly as you could and bent down to his level. You grabbed one of his hands, and that was enough for him to look at you quickly. 

"I'm sorry - I can't, it's going to be like last year," he said quickly, you know from what you heard that last year was not a good one for Charles, the car didn't seem to work for him at all, you didn't know he was that affected by it, and now looking at him you didn't want him to feel that way. 

He's such an amazing person and always so happy and joking with you, but he was hiding a lot of things that had hurt him and you couldn't let that happen.

"Hey, you can do this, okay?" both your hands grab his face and you give him a tiny smile, "I can't..." you shush him and try to get as close to him as you can, were you allowed to hug him? You did not know, but at that moment he probably needed it. 

"Hey, those bad days don't define you, you're amazing and such a talented driver, last year the car wasn't good, let's leave that in the past, okay? This is a new opportunity and you're going to show everyone who Charles is, you're going to make them eat their words, so go and destroy them, champ". 

That seems to make Charles' worries melt away a bit, you told him to take a deep breath with you, and when you felt that he was better you slowly let him go. But that seems to be a wrong move, because when you do, Charles seems to look at you as if you took something away from him, but you ignored it. 

"Okay champ get up, time to make jaws drop with your amazing driving" you joked and you were quite happy because you could see the corner of his mouth move up a bit. 

"Thank you, Mon ange" 

"None of that, we are a team, you and I, remember?" 

He nodded and in that moment he let himself look at you while you smiled at him, he felt as if your smile had the power to melt away his worries leaving behind a feeling of peace, in that moment he was grateful for you, he took a deep breath and let it out, there was nothing to worry about.

He's pretty sure this season will go well with you by his side because you wouldn't leave him, would you?

Scuderia :: @evie-119 @tempo-rary-fix @spookystitchery @boiohboii @halleest @itsjustkhaos @aphroditeisamilf @vicurious28 @lozzamez3 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @heyheyheyggg @teamnovalak @fakeplastiqtree @michelleyw81 @lillyssh-tposts @these-books-are-ruining-my-life @kqliie @deliciousfestsalad @biitch-with-wifi @xohollie01 @charlesleclerc2003 @loloekie @elliegrey2803 @steamy-smoker @doesnt-care @delululeclerc @vip-access @theseerbetweenus @haikyuen @arian-directioner @marvelfangirl04 @melagem02 @rach3164 @zucchinimalfoy @scopeiguess @landoslutmeout @reiofsuns2001 @badussybumper @nixily @forevercaffeinated-lee @i-wish-this-was-me @gabys-gabs @entr4p3 @trouble-sistar @thef1diary @puttyly @solo2leo @f1and1d4eva @liliummz

Team radio: I hope you like! it I feel I could have done better but English is not my first language but I will do my best to improve, I will keep practicing and improving my writing every day.

[cult-of-husbandos]

yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

[papurgaatika]

Nothing Fucks With My Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader

A/N: This got so out of hand so fast, but it is FINALLY here. This is for all my Joel girlies with crazy daddy issues, I see you and I get you. I really didn’t mean for the first half of this fic to be so angst-filled, but I think the smut is a good trade-off for it in the end. AS ALWAYS humongous shoutout to my beloved beta readers @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin yall kill me with your comments and I love yall so much. And yes the title is a Hozier lyric, I love that guy. Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! Tags: daddy issues, minor misogyny, minor body shaming, angst, Joel wants to beat up reader’s dad, age gap, daddy kink, pillow humping, exhibitionism if you squint, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller’s filthy mouth, breeding kink, cumplay kinda, protective Joel, no outbreak AU, no use of Y/N Word Count: 5.3k

Visiting your parents with Joel for the first time brings up some bad memories. And lets you make a few good ones too.

(aka Joel hates your parents and fucks you in your childhood bedroom)

Your fingers stilled over your phone, minor panic setting into your bones when you got a text from your mother asking you to come over for dinner with her and your father. Now you loved your parents and you think they loved you too, in whatever weird way they showed it, but your relationship with them was never amazing. They were overbearing when you lived with them, always expecting the most of you but never recognizing what you actually did, like you were never going to be enough in their eyes. You were a grown woman, a degree in hand, and jobs lined up, but with rent at an all-time high and entry-level positions barely paying enough, you had sucked it up for as long as you could and continued to live with them. The passive-aggressive remarks about their friends’ kids moving out and about your degree essentially being a waste barely mattered anymore, you kept your head down and didn't engage unless you really had to. Your daydreams of moving out and being independent dwindled a little with every snide comment your father made, but you were living rent-free so you didn't say anything. 

But then you met Joel, and Joel couldn’t see a single flaw in you, his perfect angel. You weren’t even planning on dating anyone, especially not someone this much older than you, but there was just something about him that drew you in. You could still remember the day you met him like yesterday. You had been driving home after taking a much-needed weekend to go see one of your friends from college and managed to run over a nail and saw your tire pressure going down. You had pulled over and contemplated calling your father, but the idea of him driving out to lecture you on being a better driver and why he thinks women shouldn't drive just gave you a headache. So, being the self-determined woman you were, you got out of your car, popped on a YouTube video on how to change a tire, and knelt next to your car. 

Granted, the video wasn’t helping you out much, and your headache was getting worse under the blistering Austin sun, and you felt the tears start to brim in your eyes as you rested your head against the door of your car. You were seconds away from sucking it up and calling your father when you heard a gentle, “Do you need any help, ma’am?” You’re not one to usually take help from men, especially not random men on the side of the road, but your head was pounding and your eyes were red, and something about his voice just put you at ease. So you sigh and nod, explaining how you really did try to change it, but it just wasn't working and he shoots you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “I’ve got it for ya don’t worry, it’s just a tire ‘ain't worth those tears.” 

You stand to the side as he kneels down to take a look at the damage before standing back up and grabbing the tools from your trunk. His arms were working on unscrewing the bolts of your (now useless) tire, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. His sleeves were pulled taut over his biceps and beads of sweat were rolling down his tanned skin. You watched as the fabric of his shirt clung to his belly and his gray-streaked hair grew damp from the heat, finding yourself unconsciously biting your lip when your eyes linger on the veins that strained under his arms. He lets out a soft grunt when he gets off the ground and turns to look at you. “I don't think it’ll be safe to drive on your spare sweetheart, let me call you a tow.” 

“Oh! No, it’s okay really,” your eyes go wide and your brows furrow as you try to figure out how much it would cost and who you would even call to come pick you up, but he’s already dialing a number into his phone and telling them they owe him a favor before hanging up and giving you another smile. “You really didn’t have to do that-” Your words falter because you realize you don’t know his name.

“Joel. And I couldn't let ya deal with it yourself, my mama raised me better than that.” You blush softly at his words, genuinely grateful to have met him. You let out a breath, your tears having subsided and your heart rate finally calming down before sitting back down on the ground, fully expecting Joel to walk back to his truck and head out, but are instead met with a frown when you look back over at him. “Can't just leave you here like this sweetheart,” he sighs looking down at you, “Let me take ya to the garage at least, just so I know you’re safe.” 

Quite honestly, you weren’t used to someone treating you with this much care and attentiveness, you weren’t sure what to do with it. But the worried look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice have you nodding, taking his hand and getting into his truck to go to the garage with him. You sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for the next few minutes until you decide to be bold and ask for his number “Well, just in case my tire pops again” Your words are matched with a small grin playing on your lips, and JoeL, well joel was a goner the moment you had said those words. 

You and Joel had moved relatively fast, only being together for about eight months before you were packing your stuff and moving in with him. He had heard all about your parents before then. He saw the tears that fell after a fight with them, heard the words they threw at you while you recounted to him, and he could never imagine treating someone, especially not someone as perfect as you, like that. He could recount how many times you would curl up into him, breathing in his scent to try and calm down while he ran a soothing hand over your back and told you it was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that he had a few choice words when you mentioned that your mother had asked you both to come over. “Dunno how civil I’ll manage to be, sweet girl” he groans into your shoulder, arm draped over your middle as y'all lay in bed. You giggle softly and tilt your head to the side so it’s leaning on top of his slightly. 

“Gonna have to be,” you catch his fingers in your own, running circles over the rough skin to soothe yourself. “I haven’t seen them since I moved out... I just want them to be okay with us I guess.” A sigh leaves your lips when you think about how displeased they used to be about anything that you ever did growing up, that displeasure skyrocketing when you started seeing Joel. 

You feel him still your fingers, taking your hand and wrapping it with his own, before shifting to look at you fully. “I can’t promise they’ll be okay, sweet girl, but just know I’m in it with you forever okay?” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles and you feel your eyes start to water as you nod. “Now, we don’t need to think ‘bout it for a while, lets get some sleep yeah?” You curl into his side and mumble out a soft okay before letting yourself drift off, feeling the weight of his arm draped around you. 

The rest of the week passed with relative ease, you were busy with work and Joel had been doting over you more than usual to keep your mind off of things. Eventually, Friday rolls around and you find yourself in Joel’s truck fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, heart pounding in your chest. You’re staring out the window lost in the endless stream of anxiety that is your brain, until you feel Joel's hand, warm and heavy, running small circles on your knee. You let your hand rest on top of his, basking in the intimacy of it all before he pulls up to your old house. You can feel your breathing start to quicken, chewing on the inside of your lip, before looking over at him. “Wait, baby, can we go back, I can’t do this. I’m not ready,” your words were tumbling over each other, panic clear on your face. 

“Hey, hey, look at me angel. It’s gonna be okay. We can do this okay?” His hands are on your cheeks making you look at him, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but I’ll try to be on my best behavior, and if we go in and you wanna leave at any time, we’re outta here okay?” He breathes out a small sigh of relief when you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips at his words. You take one last steadying breath before throwing open the door of the truck, smoothing out your outfit, and letting the flowers you had picked up for your mother rest in your arms. 

You knock at the door and feel your nerves setting in again, but Joel's hand is holding yours and you feel like he’s pulling you back down to the ground again, keeping you steady. You’re both met with a loud laugh and are pulled in for a hug when your mother opens the door. “Oh! Sweetheart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You certainly look like you’re eating well.” You did not miss those passive-aggressive comments at all, so you hand her the flowers with a tight-lipped smile, mumbling something about just having more time to make the food you enjoy, 

And being the attentive boyfriend that he is, Joel senses your discomfort immediately. He turns on his southern charm and throws one of those gorgeous smiles at your mother, complimenting her cooking and how good it smells in here. “If her cooking is any indicator, I’ll be asking for a to-go bag tonight.” Your mother just blushes and goes on about how her food isn’t that good but she hopes he likes it. You grin, watching the two of them interact helping your nerves dissipate slightly. Joel was always a charmer, that’s why you were drawn to him, he knew how to make you feel safe which was something you had seldom felt in this house. 

You’re sitting on one of the chairs, head leaning against his shoulder while he laughs at something your mother says. It finally feels like you can breathe like you don't have to put your guard up because Joel does it for you. And then suddenly it’s like the floor is being ripped out from under you as your father makes his way downstairs. It was like you were 16 again begging to get his approval for anything, waiting for the day someone would whisk you out of that house. You sit up straight and move your head from Joel’s shoulder and let your eyes dart to his, and he is visibly angry. Joel knows about your father, the fights and the screaming matches, the way you were so similar it made you sick, and he just could never understand how someone would ever treat their child that way.

Now your father isn’t necessarily short but Joel was looming over him, eyes burning daggers in his direction as you both stood up to greet him. Joel’s hand envelopes your fathers in a grip that looks like it could break a bone and you give your father a curt nod and however much of a smile you can muster up with a quiet “hi dad.” only to be met with a grunt like you weren’t even worth sparing a few words to say hello to before muttering and going to sit on the couch. “It's alright Joel… he’s just like that baby... let it go.” you manage to press a kiss to his cheek to let him know you’re alright, it wasn’t like you were expecting the world's warmest greeting anyway. 

Joel tries to let it go. He really tries for you. But it is so hard being nice to someone who hurt the person you love. So he brings up Sarah, not out of spite really, he just loves to talk about his girl. “Comes up to visit almost every month, jobs got her real busy though,” he says, taking a sip of beer, eyes focussed on your father across the table. “Couldn't go without seein�� her.” Joel’s face immediately brightens up when he talks about Sarah, the pride he feels for his girl sparkling behind his eyes. 

Your father is not a man who is good at hiding his emotions, anger, and resentment showing clearly on his face. “‘M sure it’s nice to have a daughter who amounts to somethin’,” you feel your blood go cold for a moment, tears stinging in your eyes as you duck your head down to look at your plate very carefully. Joel’s hand is immediately squeezing yours, bringing you back down to earth, back to him. You take a deep breath to respond, but before you even get the chance, Joel’s voice is hurdling at your father. 

“Sure is. You’d understand what it would feel like if ya made any effort to be in her life.” The silence in the room is eerie. You cannot remember a single time in your life when your father didn’t have something to say, something to hurl at you in a fit of anger, only to claim it never happened after the fact. You feel Joel squeeze your hand again as your father shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, not making eye contact with either of you. Your mother just looks between Joel and your father silently, apparently still unwilling to stand up for you. You press your eyes shut for a moment at the absurdity of it all; the absurdity of bringing Joel to meet your parents, of him trying to defend you, at the idea that you had truly believed that your parents would have changed. You knew better than to hope for things like that. 

The rest of the dinner passes in relative silence, save for a few questions your mother asks Joel about his work and a minor argument that ensues because Joel mentions his love for the UT Longhorns after your father brings up his love for the Aggies. You roll your eyes at Joel when he throws up the Hook ‘Em hands before you get up to wash the dishes, only stopping when Joel tugs at your wrist. You look down at where he’s sitting, eyebrows raised at you because you're well aware that washing the dishes is his job “Baby it’s okay, I'll just do them today”

Joel just shakes his head and pulls at your wrist again, essentially pulling you back into your chair. “Don’t think so angel, you know that’s my job,” you giggle with a small nod of your head before the both of you turn to look at your father who is scoffing from his seat. “‘S there a problem?” 

Your father rolls his eyes at Joel, clearly still upset about how dinner went. “Just think you should let the woman do the woman’s job, ain't yours to do.” Your father barks that out with such ease that Joel thinks he sees red for a second. He grew up helping his mamma around the house when he was younger and became even more fond of cooking and cleaning when Sarah was born, so it is safe to say that he doesn’t agree with the idea that housework is a “woman's job.”

You know how Joel feels about this but your father is getting irritated again and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take another argument between them, so you’re trying to grab the plates from Joel again. But stubborn as he is, Joel does not let up, especially if it means letting your father think that he’s right. “I don’t think so, sweet girl. Ain’t the 1950’s anymore, if you’re too pussy to wash a dish wouldn’t consider you a real man.” Your mouth falls open slightly, and you try to bite back your smile when your father huffs and gets up from the table muttering something about not knowing a real man if it bit him in the ass. 

You finish helping your mother put leftovers in the fridge, save for a bag filled to the brim with leftovers for Joel, and catch a glimpse of Joel smirking happily to himself while the sink runs hot over his hands. You sneak behind him and press a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your hands snake around his waist. “I’ll be honest baby, kinda hot watching you tell him off like that..” You hear him huff out a laugh before he shuts the water off and spins you around in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting his mouth drop to your neck. You giggle as he nips at your skin lightly, but push him off gently after a moment. “They’re gonna see you, Mr. Miller, gonna get me in trouble.”

“Is that so?” his hands are on your waist, prints from the water on your shirt. He grins down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “let ‘em see baby, not their little girl anymore, all mine now.” He presses another kiss to your neck, finding the spot right above your pulse point and drawing a small mewl from between your lips, before standing up straight and letting go of your waist, a grin plastered to his face. 

“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” You squint your eyes at him, poking a finger into his chest, eliciting a laugh to tumble from his mouth. You give him a small kiss again and find yourself smiling into it. “‘M ready to go home now baby,” you murmur against the plush of his lips, wanting to feel his hands on your body again. Joel simply nods and grabs your purse for you while you say an awkward goodbye to your parents. You take your purse from his hands and open the door only to be met with the sight of rain. You were used to how quickly Austin would flood when a storm hit, you had grown up with it, but you hadn’t checked the weather and this was certainly dampening your plans to go home. 

You turn around to face Joel, eyebrows furrowed and before either of you can say anything your mother is swooping in. “Well, now I cannot send you two out in this weather! I have your old room set up still, and Joel can take the guest room!” Your eyes lock with Joel's, taking in the look of shock on his face. You should have assumed that your parents would be weird about letting Joel stay in the same room as you, despite living with him, but you were still caught off guard. 

You say your goodnights and thank yous, your father’s grip on Joel’s hand dangerously tight, before showing Joel up to the guest room giggling about having to be apart for the night. “Dunno how I’ll be able to sleep without you angel,” he groans sitting down on the old guest bed. 

You roll your eyes and kiss the scar on his nose “Sure you’ll be okay for one night cowboy, I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?” He just scrunches up his nose in response and plants a few more kisses on your lips before letting you walk out to your room. You can hear him exaggerate a sigh as you close the door and walk back to your old bedroom. You grin to yourself before walking into your room, taking in the sight of what used to be yours. Your hands skim over your dresser, the drawers mostly empty from when you packed in haste to move in with Joel, dried petals from the last bouquet of flowers he had gotten you still sitting in a small jewelry box. Pink sheets, pink pillows, and at least five stuffed animals still sit in their perfect setting on your bed, and a pang of guilt for leaving them bubbles up inside of you. You sigh and pull out an old shirt from the drawer and slip into it, foregoing pants and just staying in your panties. 

You spread out on the bed making futile attempts to fall asleep. It wasn’t like you needed Joel to be next to you, but you missed his hand draped around your waist and the way his body was a literal furnace to the point where you had to take the blankets off. Your mind cannot stop thinking about him. The way his hand was on the small of your back when you came into the house, the way he stood up for you when your father was speaking, the taste of his lips when he pulled you in for one last kiss before you left his room. You let your fingers trail down your body, sneaking into your panties and letting out a shaky sigh when you feel the slick pooling between your legs, eyes falling shut for a moment before situating a pillow between your legs. You press your face softly into one of the stuffed animals Joel had given you, the smell of him just barely lingering in it, and start to grind your hips down on the pillow. Your breath hitches when you feel the pressure on your clit through your panties, moans muffled by the bunny as you grind your hips down chasing your pleasure. Your eyes are still shut imagining Joel, lost in your pleasure until you hear a low whistle behind you, making your head whip around, your heart pounding a mile a minute. 

And there he is. Joel is leaning against your door, when he got in is beyond you, his eyes are hungry and locked in on you, eyebrows raising when you stop to turn around. “Why’re you stopping, baby? Go on, put on a show for me.” Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s cutting you off with a small tsk and a shake of his head “Nuh-uh. Don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, keep going.” His voice leaves no room for discussion, and his hands are on your waist pulling you flush with the pillow again. You whine when his hands leave your body, and try to turn around to grab at him. He pins your hips back down to the pillow, a low noise leaving his throat. “Like you were before, wanna see what you used to do when you miss me” 

A whimper leaves your mouth and you lay your head back down on the bed, pussy grinding on the pillow again. You move your hips back and forth, breathing becoming heavier as you angle your hips a bit higher and you bite back a whine as you clench around nothing “Joel please-” you plead, looking up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes,  “want you to touch me,” A small shudder movies through your body as you whine at him again. 

He just shakes his head at you, eyes not leaving your clothed cunt, “Not yet baby.” He brings his hands back to your waist and traces small circles into the skin just above your panties. 

  “but-” You keep grinding but throw a pout at him trying to get his decision to sway. 

He swats at your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to be a good warning “You arguing with me baby?” His eyebrows are raised, the look in his eyes not one that wants to deal with a brat tonight. 

You shake your head with a pitiful no sir and keep grinding on the pillow, your panties fully drenched by now. You feel your hips start to stutter as your climax catches up with you, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Your stomach is clenching and your breaths are ragged, “Joel- fuck gonna cum, oh god- fuck-” You babble at him, words muffled, legs trembling lightly, and eyes falling shut as you’re hit with your orgasm, face falling into the stuffed bunny again. 

You try to steady your breaths after coming down from your high, eyes still closed until you feel his hands sneak around your waist and under your shirt, grabbing your tits softly. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy girl, probably did this all the time when you thought about me? Desperate fucking thing.” You groan into his touch, and arch your back into him when he pulls you flush against his chest. He grabs at the hem of your shirt, before pulling it off and tossing it to one of the corners of the room, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. You let out a squeak when he tugs at them before he lets go and presses his hand over your mouth. “Quiet. Gonna wake up your parents, or is that what you want, hmm?” His hand dips into your panties, rough fingers swirling over your clit “wanna get caught in the room you grew up in?” 

A whine leaves your mouth, muffled behind his hand, as you try to grind into his fingers. He brings his hand back to your nipple, flicking at the nub and making you jump. “Joel please- need it” You plead as he circles your clit. 

Joel pauses, drawing a pathetic whimper to leave your lips. “Came already and want another one? Greedy fucking thing” You nod at his words before yelping when he throws you down onto the bed and pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you buck your hips into the air, trying to catch his touch. He rests his head on the plush of your thigh, eyes on yours, waiting for you to ask for what you want. 

Your eyes are pleading with his, hoping that you can get out of having to beg by batting your lashes at him. “I’ll be so good for you, please.” your lip trembles a bit, hips still moving in the air, trying to get into his mouth. He relents and his lips press against your thighs, his stubble scratching at it gently, before pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jump softly. “Fuckk thank you.” Your head falls back as his tongue sweeps over your weeping cunt, his arm pinning your hips down to keep you from bucking into his face. 

His tongue dips into your slit, making your back arch off the bed as your hands fist in his hair. His lips wrap around your clit, and your hand clamps over your mouth to stop the obscene noises you were making from leaving it. His fingers tease your entrance before slipping into you and thrusting in and out at the same pace he was flicking his tongue. You feel your thighs start to tremble and clench around his head, your grip on his hair growing tighter as you feel your second orgasm hit you, red hot in the bottom of your spine, and up to the tingling in your fingers. Joel’s pace does not slow down as he coaxes you through it, hitting all the right spots. “Fuck look at her baby.” He says pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your slick over your pussy. “Fucking weeping for me. I’ll give her what she needs don't worry” 

His fingers press against your lips, and you let them into your mouth, tasting yourself off of him and groaning at the taste. He drags his spit-covered fingers down your chest, relishing in the fucked out look on your face. He takes off his jeans letting his cock spring free, dumb bastard going commando at your parents' house, and spits into his hand before fisting his cock in your line of sight. You whine at him, pouting your lips at him, cunt dripping down your thighs onto your bed. He chuckles at you and brings his hands to your waist, before slipping his cock into you, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. “Look at that sweet girl, taking me so well.” He moves so his cock is buried to the hilt in your cunt, the coarse hair that surrounds him pressing into your pelvis. 

You try to rock against him, to gain any friction. “Joel please move... please I want it” You plead with him, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. “Gonna be so good for you Daddy, please” And that does him in. He lets out a groan and thrusts into you with enough force to move your headboard. His cock is hitting you in just the right spot, filling you up almost too much. 

You feel yourself clench around him as his hand tightens around your waist, one of your legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good angel,” he says as your pussy clenches around him like it was begging for his cum. “Make you all mine, show everyone who you belong to,” his thrusts are growing messier, and you can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s almost too much. Your toes curl and you meet his thrusts as you let out a pathetic slew of pleasepleasepleaseplease before you feel him cumming inside you with a soft pant of your name. You feel him pull out of you slowly, his cock replaced with his fingers. “Said I was gonna make you mine, gotta make sure it takes.” His fingers collect the cum that leaks out of you in the most obscene way and pushes it back into you, as a shaky breath leaves your lips at the depravity of his words. 

“Fuck thank you, baby,” You manage to get out after what feels like an eternity of recovering from your orgasm. Joel shoots you a sleepy grin, before wrapping his clean hand around yours and laying his head down on your chest, looking up at you with love in his eyes. 

“I should be thanking you, sweet girl. Did so fucking good for me” You grin and look down at him with sleepy eyes and run a hand through his hair. 

“You know you gotta get back to the guest room right?” You ponder, realizing the situation that you were in. The idea of your mother waking up to find you naked and stuffed full of Joel’s cum was horrifying. 

Joel just grins back up at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast before pushing himself up off your bed and peeking at the window. “Dunno baby.. Rain stopped a while ago, I'm ready to just get outta here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, sliding back into his jeans as you drop your arm over your face with a dopey smile playing across your lips. 

“So long as you carry me to the truck, I'm game, baby” You bite your lip and smile up at him as he tosses your dress at you before he scoops you up and tromps down the stairs quietly and puts you into the passenger seat before getting in and pulling out of the driveway. “Thank you for being there tonight baby.. I love you.”

Joel just smiles at you, half asleep in his passenger’s seat, and runs a hand over your knee before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Love you too angel. Don’t plan on ever making you come up here again though” You just giggle and lace your fingers through his, extremely content to just spend the rest of your days with Joel, not worried about your parents.

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.  Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[wintersera]

01 — frozen awakening

masterlist

— pairing: kim minjeong x scientist!reader

notes: half of the time i was writing out this chapter, i was listening to this “dystopian scifi” ambience on youtube to get into the mindset 😭

cw: pwp, SMUT, reader is a virgin, a guy dies, descriptive language of a gross looking monster, two guns being used, a singular needle, non consensually taking blood.

wc: 11.6k

personal log: no. 235

status performance on the prosthetic arm created approximately 47 days ago:

inactive. per usual. i don’t know why the officer constantly nags me about consistently trying to get the damn thing to work. clearly it isn’t. not one budge, not one twitch. nothing. just a lifeless chunk of metal. i’ve hooked it up to the life source in pod 05, but man, this piece of shit is just too stubborn to move.

but it’s not like i can do anything about it anyway. i was assigned to this position and the officer will kick my ass if i don't manage to make this arm move by the end of this month… what does he know anyway? the military is full meatheads who know nothing about science.

anyway, signing off.

kwon [redacted].

date: 16/01/xxxx

—

“it’s late, doctor”

with one click of the keyboard, a quick swig of the umpteenth energy drink of today, and one final weary exhale, you recline back into your desk chair, swivelling the black and dusty seat around to meet your coworker.

“i know. but officer kim wants this arm done by next month. can’t afford to leave the lab even if i wanted to” on the table lies a metallic arm, a few wires attached to the wrist and fingers. “oh and to make matters worse, the things not budging. at all…” you say through gritted teeth as your frustration was evident. the thing was a cold and empty vessel, disgustingly soulless, lacking heat and life. this wasn’t something you enjoyed, but you had to do regardless.

again, you let out a weary sigh, propping your elbow up on the table as you rest your head against the heat of your palm. exhaustion was shown in the deep and dark circles that had settled uncomfortably underneath your eyes, your hair carelessly thrown in the messiest and loosest ponytail your fatigued fingers and arms could manage. the same could be said for your lab coat too. the once crisp and prim white material all crumpled up and wrinkled together. then there was your name tag that hung on your breast pocket askew… jesus, when was the last time you had a shower?

“…well, don’t overwork yourself too much, doctor. your intellect exceeds most of us, and if you’re exhausted your research would be gibberish garbage that we wouldn’t be able to decipher, and you know that” the doctor in front of you gently scolded you as they whipped their head towards your slumped over body, a low and equally fatigued chuckle parting from their lips, resting a hand on your back as they point out your scribbled down notes and diagrams “c’mon doctor. i’ll shut down the lab for you. just head back to the dorm”

for what felt like an eternity, you had remained firmly glued to your chair, immersed in your own task. the hours had flown by in a blur of focus and determination, your body stiff and cramped from the prolonged stillness. finally, you pushed yourself to your feet, a chorus of creaks and pops echoed through the empty room, your aching back cracking as you attempted to straighten your spine “alright, but i need to do a quick check around the building first.”

“hey” despite the apparent fatigue in the doctor's face, they addressed you with a hint of spirit “how about we split? that way we both can head back to the dormitory much faster”

“sounds fair. i’ll go check around section 02, there’s more tech in there. i don’t think a rookie like you can handle all that”

—

feeling the weight beneath your feet, you trudge silently throughout the various corridors, the faint, eerie glow of the flickering blue fluorescent lights casting shadows across the floor. at some point, you swear you could hear the sound of skin slapping across the freezing floors, but you paid no mind to that. maybe it was your mind playing games with you. after all you were on the verge of passing out.

with each step you took, the soft echoes of your footsteps and your laboured breathing ricocheted off the hollow walls. the corridors seemed to stretch out endlessly in the gloom, a sense of disorientation seeping slowly into your body “how long did they have to make these corridors… swear to god i’ll die in one of them some day”

a sense of dread suddenly washed over you. something seemed wrong, like fresh air had wafted through the dusty building. then after a prolonged and uncomfortable silence, there was a deafening clash, perhaps a thick sheet of metal had fallen onto the ground flat onto the ground.

protocol states that if you heard a strange sound emitting from any of the rooms, and if no scientist that was assigned were present, it would be best to avoid the area as a whole, maybe to even contact the military in case it was a one of your regular mutant attacks.

yet, for some inexplicable reason, you found yourself trusting your intuition. as you carefully tiptoed into the familiar room, you laid eyes on one of the cryogenic pods. all of them had been occupied by presumably brain dead bodies, preserved for historical records should memory extraction ever be required from the era of old earth. all of the pods were pristinely polished from the top all the way down to the bottom, the glass surfaces gleaming in the darkness. but that one pod. it’s once smooth and functional form was now severely damaged from an unknown cause. the cryogenic liquid that kept the body preserved inside, flowed slowly out of the broken vessel. with a depressing trickle, it pooled around the front of the pod, drops of the substance bringing forth a strange sense of melancholy. it was like a cruel mockery to the warmth and life that it contained.

on the pod was a date of birth, and a name.

“patient 0101, huh? born january 1st 2001.” you muttered, unable to hold back the ironic chuckle “wow, what a birthday to celebrate. now, the name” with the sleeve of your crinkled lab coat, you wiped away the condensation that had clung to the cold metal of the surface.

“ah, shit. old korean lettering” you reached into your pocket to extract out a bizarre looking device. it’s red laser scanning the old korean characters. a beep signalled the completion of the scan, the device’s screen displaying the full translation of the mystery person's name.

“kim minjeong” you read aloud. the name rolled off your tongue easily. though it was a much older version of the current korean language, it still held its similarities.

this was uncharted territory. a cryogenic pod breaking out of the blue was unheard of. a concept so unrealistic and impossible, and yet, against all odds, a body laid there. preserved, untouched. ready to be researched and discovered by an extremely talented scientist. ahem, aka you.

as a researcher, a scientist who specifically specialised in biomedical engineering, neurobiology and material science, you felt the sudden compulsion to retrieve the naked body out from the vessel and cradle it into your arms. the girl felt cold to the touch, lifeless in your embrace.

“doctor jeon doesn’t need to know about this…” fiddling with the radio on your belt, you hastily call in your coworker, the scientist on the other side of the building concentrating on their task

“hey, i’m nearly done closing up your workstation. you sure have a shit ton of empty red bull cans… sheesh”

“uh, about that. just remembered that i’ve got a few important things to attend to. leave without me. oh and don’t close down my workstation you idiot. it’s open for a reason” your mind raced with many questions as you dismissed your coworker so urgently. how did her pod break? who was she? what was old earth like? how would she react to waking up a millennia in the future? was she dreaming whilst under a comatose-like state during the cryogenic freezing?

besides all of the questions swirling around in your mind, you momentarily set them aside to focus on the more pressing matters “you must be cold, right?” you whisper as if you were to wake her from her deep slumber “here, take my coat” you slid off your lab coat, draping it around the girl’s smaller frame. without further thought, you carry the girl’s almost weightless body in your arms, pressing her closely into you, being careful not to jostle her around too much.

again with the endless stream of corridors within corridors and hallways within hallways.

it was bothersome to navigate through them every single day. even after working for years here, some way or another you’d end up lost “i don’t have time for this…” you tread carefully throughout the lengthy halls, holding onto the naked girl’s body with a tight grip.

upon hearing footsteps of a nearby officer, you quickly, yet cautiously step closer and closer to your workstation on the far end of the room you had just entered.

it was a long day, and you hadn’t had time to perform the sterilisation procedure in a hot minute. but there was another issue at hand, you had a girl in your arms.

fuck it.

you adjusted your grip carefully, holding her up with one arm and one hand, and the other arm free to clean up the possibly stained table from your previous fiasco. carefully you slinged her over your shoulder as you began the tedious process of thoroughly cleaning the surface.

cryogenic incident log no.1

subject: patient 0101, kim minjeong.

DoB: january 1st, 2001 (old earth era)

vitals: currently unconscious. vitals are weak, however pulse and respiratory rates are within a safe and acceptable range. brain activity, questionable (most likely due to a millennia of cryogenic preservation)

condition: slightly hypothermic

appearance: asian, 5’4, quite frail. appears to be in her 20’s, pale skin (either from cryogenic preservation or genetics), bleached blonde hair.

extra notes: further examination and tests are required to determine the subject's health status and her identity. subject kim minjeong has a rather peculiar mark on her neck. further examination will be performed once subject kim minjeong regains consciousness.

kim minjeong will be placed under doctor kwon [redacted]‘s care until further notice.

date: 16/01/30xx

—

there you were, observing the young woman’s unconscious body sprawled across table. a multitude of wires were attached to her, one particular one on her chest just below the collarbone. that specific wire was connected to a monitoring device, displaying the activity of her heart on a dusty and almost broken up screen, thanks to the military’s lack of investment, and also not giving a shit about the devices you scientists had to work with. each placement of different leads were positioned accordingly; every vital signe shown on the screen. she was somehow alive despite her predicament.

all signs showed that she was fine, but deep down you knew there was definitely something up with her.

the wavelength began to accelerate, which made your own heart drop out of sheer panic.

she was quickly regaining consciousness and you didn’t know what to do.

minjeong’s fingers twitched underneath the white polyester blanket that covered her bare body. you could see them moving one by one, each finger wriggling around as they struggled to find life. and for a split second, you swear you could see her eyes twitch.

as sick and twisted as it may be, seeing her sprawled out on the table had you thinking a few inappropriate things. she was out, unconscious as a person could get… so vulnerable under the thin and flimsy blanket. with her in mind, you huffed out a small unexplainable sigh.

without warning, her arm jolted suddenly. her muscles began to spasm for a few one second intervals until they both came to a stop.

and then, with a gasp, minjeong’s eyes snapped open. her body sprung up right, heavily panting, her bare chest heaving with deep breaths as she whipped her head around the dimly lit room.

“…hello?”

“hi…”

no amount of training could have prepared you for such a situation. a whole ass woman, who you thought was on the brink of death, was alive. a woman who was born a millennia ago right in front of your very eyes “there… might be a language barrier between us. do you understand what i’m saying?” you clutched the alien looking translation device in the palms of your hands, scanning over the subject for any signs of distress.

“where am i?” this girl looked around frantically, taking in the foreign surroundings. the wires were hooked onto the monitors that were connected to her body, the dimly lit turquoise coloured room, the constant beeping of her heart beat showcasing on one of the alien looking devices right next to her. all of it was creating a sense of disorientation and confusion. she had no idea where she was, what year it was. then there was you, standing behind the glass as your eyes shined bright in contrast to the darkness.

“maybe she’s simply disorientated…” you mutter under your breath. well, since she had just woken up from a one thousand year sleep, would it be alright to tell her the truth. “you- you’re inside a facility. the whole cryogenic free-“

“then where’s my money?” she abruptly interrupted you to ask one of her questions “where’s the one million i was promised? i need to get to my family” with a silent curse, minjeong ripped off the wires attached to her body, throwing the equipment onto the floor as she attempted to stand up from the table.

at least she understood you.

“hey, hey- no, don’t stand up yet. you’re going to be a little dizzy, well not little, but you’re going to fall over” opening the airlocked door to the examination room, hastily, you came to the woman’s side, holding her frigid shoulders with one swift movement of your arm “let me at least get you a wheelchair, and maybe some clothes”

“that would be nice. this room is freezing cold” minjeong shuddered under the room's iced temperature. the AC was on full blast in the dead of the night for some reason.

“honestly, that might just be because you’ve woken up from being frozen. you're chilled to the bone” you guided minjeong outside the examination room with your arm wrapped around her shoulder. it was a futile attempt to transfer over your body heat to her freezing body, but it was better than nothing. you were desperate to help her combat the cold that seemed to have seeped into her very bones.

you led minjeong further into the facility, guiding her gently, but firmly, into the long deserted corridors. eventually, the two of you had walked long enough, coming across a familiar faint and eerie glow from the flickering blue fluorescent overhead lights. whilst walking, you and minjeong hadn’t uttered one word. just awkwardly clearing your throat from time to time as you attempted to pry your eyes away from minjeong, who had your lab coat draped around her shoulders. you couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable she looked; goosebumps covering her entire body, exhausted, somewhat distant.

finally, you had made it to your destination. a locker room, and the much more technically advanced ones too. with biometric scanners for locks, uniform compartments and protective equipment and gear. this one also had a private stall for showers in case of a sudden outbreak of… something? well, anything really. sometimes random liquids could splash all over you, or maybe you just fell in some dirt on the way here.

“let’s hope that there’s extra clothing somewhere” your hand slid across minjeong’s bare back as you parted from her body. quickly, with your handprint identification, the door slid right open, lights flickering and steam hissing as it exited the now opened room “oh, this steam is just for sterilisation purposes, no need to worry”

minjeong simply nodded her head, moving carefully inside the futuristic locker room. the door slid shut as you stepped inside with minjeong, comfortably undoing your top button with one hand “not much of a talker, are you? neither am i, guess i’ll make it a little less uncomfortable by talking outside my comfort zone.”

the younger woman nodded once again. she seemed a little stiff, but that was to be expected. new environment, no people around except for the two of you, a whole new world that she wasn’t familiar with, and to repeat it again, she was naked “i’ll introduce myself later when i find you something to wear. now… let’s see”

nothing other than a few crinkled lab coats here and there. of course you felt bad, minjeong was practically on the verge of becoming hypothermic. the AC didn’t help either, but you couldn’t turn that off for safety reasons. luckily for you, in your own locker - which you should have checked in the first place, had a few of your more casual clothes in there. just a plain black shirt and plain black pants “will this do?”

after what seemed like an excruciating prolonged silence, minjeong had finally spoken up with a hushed voice - most likely because she hadn’t talked properly for god knows how long “enough with the yapping. i need the money for my family. that’s why i went and got myself frozen in the first place”

how could you tell a vulnerable girl that her family was dead, and that she had been kept safe in the military for a millennia without freaking her out?

“that- i can’t do that” you chewed your lip nervously “see, you’re inside a military and science facility”

she tilts her head in a confused manner. it made no sense to her unless she was tricked into some sick experiment. she doubted you for a second, scoffing at your face until she realised that maybe you were right.

“so i’ve been tricked. is that what you’re implying? i’ve been tricked into becoming a test rat?”

to assume you were going to use her for tests so unethical like that was crazy. though, you understood why she would come to such a conclusion.

“absolutely not. i don’t know the full story of how we ended up with these pods in our care, nor do i know why yours happened to break during this night. it’s never happened before”

her slender arms folded across her chest, leaning back on the wall as she assessed your body language. it seemed like she was ready to pounce. given her height in comparison to yours, it somehow frightened you “how do i know you’re not lying to me?”

“cctv footage of me walking into the room you were unconscious in” you reply back immediately.

“you got me there”

“that i did. anyway, i can assure you that i have no ill intentions whatsoever, so don’t worry about anything for now.” you tossed her your clothes, turning your back around to respect her privacy, then pointing towards the shower room where she could freshen up. until you realised that maybe the shower was most likely foreign to her as well.

as much as you wanted to help, you pushed down the idea of doing so. that was until she called you for help.

since it was the year 30xx, showers might have undergone a few technological advances. from what you could remember from reading articles about old earth, maybe showers now hadn’t gone through much changes within the span of those long years.

“jesus christ, just- just tell me what button switches this thing on. why would you need a button for aromatherapy? or holographic images? what is that for anyway, porn in the shower?” minjeong was an amusing person for sure. her crude comment made you chuckle for the first time in a couple of days. she was quite the character for someone who had woken up a mere 45 minutes ago, already showing such a colourful personality.

“it’s to scroll through information that we could have possibly missed while showering, but maybe some people use it for pornographic content” you turned the metal knob around, much like how the showers functioned back in the 2000’s. minjeong thought that it would be a tad more complex than that, but the shower was straightforward. one thing about these showers was that it immediately set itself to spray warm water rather than having to wait for ot to heat it. ‘huh, perks of being inside a scientist facility’ is what minjeong thought.

“pornographic content you say?” she cackled, slipping your un-ironed lab coat off, the fabric pooling onto the floor as she stepped inside of the shower “you’re so formal”

you spin around as fast as possible, eyes darting up towards the ceiling as minjeong stripped herself from the only thing that covered her naked body “sorry. i don’t talk that often… or to many people. i can be less formal if you like?”

“do what you want” drops of water splashing on the hard surface of the acrylic tiles created a soothing symphony of sounds, minjeong’s soft humming mingling with the rhythmic pitter-patter, the steam that flowed out of the stall caressed around the room in a warm and enveloping cloud and the noises of wet linen sliding against minjeong’s dampened skin distracted you from breathing.

“is the temperature to your liking?”

“it is. the water feels good on my skin”

loosen up doc, why are you so stiff and awkward?

you, an introverted scientist who preferred the company of work rather than social interactions made it difficult for you to respond back to her. your mind raced with a multitude of different things to say, but to your avail, all you could do was stand frozen in place, feeling helpless and out of your depth. the thought of talking to her or saying something witty flew right out of the window, replaced by the overwhelming awkwardness that weighed you down as if you were carrying bricks on your shoulders. you wanted to say something, literally anything, but your mouth failed you.

“how long was i asleep for…?” the younger woman sounded much more vulnerable than before. that veil of bravery slipping off her lonesome facade as she knocked on the glass door of the shower “can’t be that long right? i mean, the company said 10 years more or less from what i remember”

it was a hard pill to swallow, but you were never one to sugarcoat over anything, especially when it came to situations like this - unless you were lying to the overseers.

“do you want the hard truth?” minjeong reluctantly nodded, but obviously you couldn’t see that since your back was facing her.

“is it that bad?” you finally turn around, reluctantly, as you swallow saliva harshly down your throat.

yes it was that bad.

making yourself comfortable, and also readying yourself for any potential outburst, you pressed your back onto the wall, leaning against its smooth surface “how should i say this… well, for starters, do you see anything in particular that catches your eyes?”

“don’t play mind games with me. hurry up and give me the truth.” albeit impatient, minjeong browsed around the room, her eyes locking onto some sort of device and you follow suit. ah, the biometric scanners “i… i’m guessing i’m- no, we’re in the near future”

“unfortunately, no… we’re about-” the next words were spoken under your breath in a calming manner to ensure minjeong wouldn’t freak the fuck out “about one thousand years into the future”

minjeong’s eyes widen momentarily, looking at you with nothing but pure disbelief “one- one thousand…?”

the poor girl laid her back flush against the wet wall and slid down until she sat on the soaked acrylic tiles. she looked dejected. her body curled into a ball as she hugged her legs close to her chest, softly whimpering - which eventually turned into a full on sob. it broke your heart to see her in so much pain, wailing away her sorrows while clutching onto the wall in an attempt to compose herself, but nothing worked.

so with haste, you made your way towards her, sliding away the glass door until you too were soaked underneath the warm spray of water, focus remaining solely on the sobbing woman huddled on the floor. you were never the one to comfort people, but for minjeong’s sake, you knelt down onto the ground, embracing her as she cried away the pain.

no words were exchanged between the two of you for a while. the both of you held each other dearly, until minjeong’s cries came to a halt “so that means my family… my family is gone…”

“i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but unfortunately yes… to my knowledge, humans don’t live for more than one thousand years” your futile attempts of comforting brought minjeong back into another fit of pain and denial. her dainty fingers clutched onto the back of your white buttoned up shirt, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as she began to sob once more.

“on the brightside, you- uh, you’re safe and sound here… i’d like to fill you up- i mean fill you in with what’s happened over the course of your millennia long sleep, but only if you’re ready” your brief and unnoticed mistake caused you to slap yourself around your face, mentally.

thankfully minjeong didn’t catch onto your mistake, instead, she buried her head further, holding you closer and closer to her body “sorry, i’m not good at comforting people…” she only gave a quick nod before leaning back, looking you up and down as you let the warm water cascade down your face, and also soaking the clothes you were wearing.

“where am i supposed to go now? my family is gone, it’s one thousand years into the the future and i’m not getting my money's worth—“

suddenly, minjeong was cut off by the loud blaring of an emergency siren, followed by the piercing screech that startled the two of you in the shower. sounds of metal groaning eventually coming to a stop until it sounded again. doors being pried open by what seems to be a grotesque amalgamation of flesh was shown on one of the cctv cameras. thankfully, the video was caught on the camera right inside one of the multiple hallways, now the image of the thing treading with unsettling movements throughout the facility was being displayed on the holographic screen inside of the shower “…what the hell is that thing?”

“a mutant…”

you shot up from where you knelt down, urgently pulling minjeong out from the shower. to your left was a button. the button in question being slammed by your fist locked the locker room with a series of steel shutters falling from the ceiling.

“here, wear the clothes i gave to you. i’ll… dry myself up” as you threw the pile of clothes in minjeong’s direction, you threw off your soaked clothes and dried them up almost instantly with one of the much larger contraptions in the far corner of the room. once they were done drying, and you were now fully dressed again, you searched around the room for a weapon to protect yourself from that thing that seemed to run, or well, slide at high speeds towards a lone soldier “aw fuck, there goes officer lee” minjeong followed the direction of where you threw your clothes and followed suit, drying herself up, which went rather fast.

the bloodied scream echoed throughout the empty facility in the most eerie way possible. the flesh creature seemed to have broken a few bones in the poor soldier's body as the cracks happened to leak through the thick walls of the room… which was fairly strange considering the walls were thick as hell. the poor man's screams must have been loud enough for him to be heard like that.

minjeong, having no clue as to what was going on, stood behind you as she stayed frozen in place. what she had just seen on the cctv footage was a mutant, one of the more dangerous looking ones as well.

it’s body was composed of multiple corpses pulsating together in one disgusting ball of flesh and broken bones. the way it moved was uncanny, how it glided over floors leaving trails of slick and blood wherever it moved. not only that, but it barely had a face. could you even call it a face at that point? it’s mouth was a combination of multiple mouths from the fallen bodies melting together. the thing didn’t have a nose, well it did, but it was just two holes on it’s supposed ’face’. as for the eyes… it’s eyes were scattered all over it’s body. and if we were talking about limbs, you could say it had none, since they were all collectively melded together.

in one of the unlocked lockers was a new and improved weapon, a simple rifle that was kept solely for emergencies like these. unfortunately you were never the one to hold such weapons since this was completely out of your field, but minjeong, oh god, the woman took the gun out of your hands and held it with such precision that it rendered you speechless. she had the stance of a soldier, holding the gun in such a way that it impressed you given the fact that she was still adapting to a new world “what’s that thing's weak point?”

“don’t tell me you’re gonna shoot the damn thing with that gun?” you turn your head towards her, fascinated at her bravery.

“it beats letting it roam free”

“doesn’t have a weak point… it’s best if you incinerate it. since it looks like it’s a cluster of living people, i’m assuming it has multiple hearts and multiple organs” to your knowledge, the laboratory you work in holds a plasma gun, strong enough to melt its target “it would be risky to even leave this room right now. we need to stay put and-“

emergency alarms screeched throughout the locker room. lights flashed red as the damn mutant was prying itself through the tough steel that was keeping you two safe “fuck- get behind me” minjeong yelled, taking a step in front of you as she cocked the rifle, waiting for the moment the creature decided to slip inside the large gash in the wall.

you decided to stay quiet, watching as the thing squeezed itself through the cracks. although the creature was solid, the thing forced itself through the cracks, it’s body moved like liquid until it reformed back into its unnatural state. you’ve never ever seen such motion in a mutant before, and it was very worth studying for later breaches like this.

its body stretched upwards, sizing up the two of you as it readied its deformed mouth, unhinging its so-called jaw as if it was ready to engulf its prey.

minjeong ever so swiftly shot inside its mouth, rendering the mutant stunned for a couple of seconds. she took this time to escape with you, dragging your arm as you both ran down the long corridors “we need to get to my lab. there’s a plasma rifle somewhere in there. i-it’s probably our only chance of ridding ourselves from this thing”

“then lead the way”

body overrun with adrenaline, you ran for your life, swerving through corridor to corridor as the mutant chased behind you and minjeong. it’s erratic movement really threw you off. one moment the damn thing is on the ground, next thing you know and it’s sliding up and down the walls, trying to block off your exits.

finally, god- finally, you and minjeong made it towards the lab, losing the mutant for now. as you slam your fist onto a large red button, thicker sheets of metal slid down from the ceiling, sort of protecting you from the creature.

you laid flat on the floor, catching your breath, chest heaving up and down as you groggily looked towards minjeong who seemed completely fine. what was she? some kind of superhuman? minjeong stood her ground right in front of the door, checking if the mutant was about to break through the tough steel with its enormous body. and thankfully, a few minutes go by without a peep from outside.

“where’s that gun you were talking about?” still laying flat against the ground, you point towards a sleek black case on a desk right behind you.

“t-there… it’s in there” minjeong casually tiptoed her way towards the table, quiet enough so that the mutant that could potentially be outside couldn’t hear. with two hands carefully placed on each side of the case, she unclasped it slowly. the case opened with a click.

and there it was in all its glory. newly made, recently tested and proven its worth - a plasma rifle that was millions better than its previous models “does it work like a regular rifle?” as she picked the rifle up in her hands, she held her breath, observing the cold and smooth material. it seemed to hum with otherworldly energy, its alien technology unfamiliar to her felt terrifying yet thrilling.

“uh, yes? if you’re referring to the ones used back then, maybe no…?” after being glued onto the floor for god knows how long, you finally stand up with wobbly legs, stabilising yourself on a desk right besides you “well it’s got the trigger and everything else a rifle would need, so… i think it works the same! i-i don’t know. maybe test it out?”

“if i shoot it wrong, this is your fault”

minjeong slammed the button right beside the door, retracting the metal walls back into the ceiling. the cluttering caught the attention of the creature nearby, its body hurtling itself towards the sound. it moved at a disgustingly high velocity, the sheer force of its massive body colliding into the walls boomed throughout the facility as it couldn’t even keep up with its own speed.

the younger woman slowed down her breathing, focused solely on the mutant hurtling towards her direction. with unbreaking precision, minjeong quickly pulled the trigger.

after a few seconds, the creature bursted through the metal doors with a deafening roar. at this point, you thought you were about to die a horrible death. that was until you saw a bright indigo beam shoot right through the mutant’s body.

another beam was fired. then another beam, and another for good measure. multiple beams were shot into different parts of the things body. its bloodcurdling scream rang into your ears, causing you to momentarily become deaf. it screeched, wailed and flopped around until it finally came to a stop, becoming a heap of melted flesh and blood on the ground.

“what kind of future is this? minjeong’s breath wavered, staring directly at the gross, melted and burnt corpse, or well, corpses on the floor. she kicked it’s remains, the frail thing still sizzling away from the intense heat it just took in every vital part of its body.

“not a fun and bright one”

-

what seemed to be a long walk within the facility; flickering fluorescent lights illuminating your way towards the military’s housing units, you had explained what had happened in the past thousand years.

long story short, the world had been plunged into chaos when a nuclear war broke out. it all began with a world leader becoming unhinged and issuing threats to other countries, which quickly spiralled into World War Ill. in the years that followed after the catastrophe, the radiation from the bombs and the fallout continued to mess with the environment and society, turning things into radioactive sludge or infecting more than half of the population. this led to the military, in multiple different countries, to seize control and impose martial law. with their power, they prioritised scientific progress and advancements, hence why the scientists work so closely with the military… even though it seems as if the south korean military have recently been straying away from their main goals in the past few years.

“so, that thing that chased us down… did it, or did it not have a consciousness?” you didn’t have a definite answer to her question. it could have, it couldn't have. you couldn’t know for sure, and it would stay that way due to the fact that the mutant was already dead.

“can’t say for sure. but for my sanity and yours, i’ll say no” as you two continued to chat away, you stayed vigilant, scanning the surroundings for potential security threats. a soldier could walk past, security footage could be captured of you two and you didn’t like the thought of being caught with a person of the past, especially since you were treading around science and military ground.

every corner and hallway presented a new opportunity for someone to spot minjeong, so you kept your pace quick and light, opting to stay in the shadows rather than walking into the more brightly lit areas, or open spaces that could be monitored by the cctv cameras. despite your efforts, you still felt as though something, or someone, was watching you closely.

eventually the two of you made it back to your assigned room in the middle of the night. the door slid open as soon as you scanned your hand print, the same sterilised steam enveloped yours and minjeong’s body as you stepped inside your bleak grey room.

“make yourself comfortable” you say, stripping off your worn out lab coat, dumping the poor old fabric somewhere in the corner of your neglected room. settling down into the chair in front of your desk, you gesture for minjeong to step inside. the air was slightly dry, a reminder of how little you spent your time in the tight quarters the scientists called ‘home’.

“it’s a little… ahem- bland in here” she coughed out, wafting around her hand to circulate some air. she sat down on the grey mattress, sinking into the sort of dense material of your double bed. the poor thing had been left for god knows how long, evidently shown by a thin layer of dust having formed on every surface possible. there was no life in your so called bedroom, no pictures, no sense of personality whatsoever.

“i don’t spend a lot of time in here” you confess, taking out your slightly outdated laptop and turning the alien looking technology - from minjeong’s perspective, at least, from one of the empty storage boxes to your right.

“yeah. i can see clearly” her delicate fingers ran across the top of your beds headboard, collecting the dust underneath her fingertips “you seem like the person to sleep in a laboratory” scanning at your dishevelled appearance with a keen eye.

adjusting the screen of your laptop, you chuckle dryly “perceptive much” on some occasions, yes, you did tend to fall asleep on your desk, maybe even drool a little too. after all, you were basically up all night since the day you were assigned to this specific position given to you from one of the higher ups “and yeah, i have”

for other reasons you didn’t stay inside your own room. there were many explanations as to why; the room was a shockingly low temperature, the walls were surprisingly thin considering that the entire facility’s walls were made out of thick sheets of metal - and god, hearing the snores of over a hundred people, all collectively inharmonious and unbearably loud in a single night can drive a person off the walls.

so, if not for the room, where did you stay?

“i actually have another place. somewhere far out, that’s why it’s so dusty in here” minjeong hums, finally resting her weary body on the unused sheets. it was a long day, ironically. waking up from a deep sleep, to then take another after something rather traumatising happened not too long ago. she needed some shut eye.

“you still haven’t told me your name yet”

you reply almost instantly without looking at minjeong, fingers dancing across the keyboard as you began to write “it’s doctor kwon y/n. call me whatever you want”

“alright, doc” how cute.

personal log: no. 236

two interesting things happened over the course of this night.

one. a young woman called kim minjeong woke up from the cryogenic pods in section 02. don’t really know how that happened. the machine broke and it’s glass was shattered all over the damn floors, and the liquid was pooling everywhere…

poor girl was on the brink of permanent freezing, thank god i was there. from my understanding, and from lurking through the database, nothing like this had ever happened before. it was truly fascinating… studying her body like that. it’s not everyday that you see a living and breathing relic from one thousand years ago.

two. a weird mutant breached through the facility's walls. definitely need to talk to one of the higher ups about this in the morning.

lord, i mean the thing was disgusting. never seen a mutant like that before… it was moving so strange and so inhuman. like regular human mutants are, on most occasions, bipedal, but this thick fuck moved as if it was living slime. it had no damn legs?

not only that, but it’s whole body was composed of multiple mutant humans. anyway, one thing that stuck out was the way it seeped through the gap in the wall. how do i explain this? well for starters, it shaped itself and moved like liquid, and fuck? it can stick onto walls and run, no, slide at an alarming speed.

it’s best if i study both that mutant and minjeong.

signing off.

kwon [redacted].

date: 16/01/xxxx

—

concentrated on your next task of filing an incident report to send in for the morning, you failed to notice the soft sobs from the younger woman laid flat on your bed. as minjeong clutched the thin blanket, her face pressed against the dense pillow, she tried her very best to hold in the tears left from earlier inside the shower. after the events that took place a few minutes ago, she was subjected to her own thoughts once again. her family, friends, colleagues and the people of the past were all gone.

a distant memory…

seriously though. how could you make her feel better about a situation like this? many thoughts racked in that smart brain of yours, but none of them seemed good enough to comfort someone who was mourning the loss of multiple long gone lives. the only option left was to comfort her physically, which wasn’t your forte.

so, having to take a quick shower, scrubbing down your body head to toe so you don’t smell like sweat and coffee, you leave the bathroom with a thin veil of mist trailing behind. the immediate transition from the cosy warmth of the shower to the biting cold of your bedroom left goosebumps on your skin.

minjeong, who’s eyes were red from all the crying, looked up at you curiously “are you seriously going to sleep next to me?”

“i mean, it’s my bed. plus, i don’t know how to comfort you, so this is my best attempt at it” minjeong simply huffed, moving aside the blanket to fit you right next to her.

taking up her invitation, you awkwardly shuffle into your bed despite it being your own. the rustling of your clothes, the soft breathing coming from minjeong, and the heat radiating off her body brought more tension to the room, more than you were used to. you wondered if sleeping next to her was making her feel less lonely, but really, the whole thing was a stupid idea.

on the inside you were panicking, keeping up a calm and collected facade whilst you discarded one thought for another terrible one. she was alone in a new world, and you wanted to at least alleviate the emptiness she was experiencing, but how? a hand rested on minjeong’s shoulder, squeezing it in a way to somehow console the poor woman.

“i know you’re feeling an unexplainable amount of pain, however-” not to sound like a broken record, but again, you were never the best at comforting people. besides the point, you had to try either way, and thankfully your knowledge and studies surrounding neurosciences helped massively “did you know that, uh- that there’s various chemicals that can reduce stress and are associated with positive emotions”

minjeong’s curiosity piqued, listening intently as she still sniffled time to time while she stayed wrapped in your blanket on her now claimed side of the bed.

“dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin. those are the three feel good hormones that are released during… certain activities”

besides the obvious implications, minjeong tilted her head in a way that made your heart skip. she seemed so vulnerable, too much for your poor heart to take. it took her a while to understand what you were hinting at, but she eventually got the memo as you continued to explain what you were referring to with a flustered expression, hiding behind the blankets as if it minjeong was the one to bring it up first.

“what?” she chuckled at your beet red face “don’t get all shy now. you suggested it”

“no, no i didn’t suggest anything. i-i was only just informing you about it since you were clearly upset, and i wanted to see if you would want to try since i couldn’t figure out another way for you to feel better…” in all honesty, there were much better ways to go around this situation. maybe offering minjeong the money she was promised, but then again, where would she use the money “okay, maybe i was suggesting it. but we don’t need to do anything that makes you uncomfortable-“

“i’ve got nothing to lose anyway. sure, let’s do it” despite her strained voice due to her sobs, her softly spoken confidence impressed you “i might as well take up the offer anyway. take my mind off what’s happened since i woke up i guess…”

a lump formed in your throat.

“wait, what?”

to say you were shocked was an understatement.

“oh come on, you suggested it. don’t tell me you’re going to back up now, damn” minjeong seemed to be looking forward to this, but god would she be disappointed if she found out you were a virgin “unless. don’t tell me you’re a…”

“what? no, it’s not like- well it is like that. see i don’t have the time for all that stuff you know. i’ve been studying and working almost all my life” you confess with a hint of embarrassment.

“jesus christ” in a way, minjeong was slightly frustrated, but it couldn't be helped. though, she found it rather amusing how easily you say things without considering to stop and think “it’s like you’re trying to blue ball me. i was expecting a little something from you, doc”

“then what can i possibly do with little expertise? i’m not going to dive in head first into some uncharted territory, minjeong”

“why do you make it sound like it’s so complicated? ‘uncharted territory’… doc, i’m sure you’ll be alright” minjeong gave you a reassuring smile - a genuine one too, slowly peeling away the thin blanket from her clothed body.

sex really wasn’t often the main focus in your life. every time you had such thoughts, you’d push them into the deepest parts of your mind, allowing yourself to focus on much more important and pressing matters. maybe this is why you never had many close friends as well. always pushing them away in favour of continuing your research and studies. but now was your chance to try something you’ve never done before.

…and you were about to have sex with minjeong, who seemed to have caught your attention a little too much.

“i’ll try my best”

first of all, was it you topping her or vice versa? given what you had said earlier, it was most likely you doing all the work. after all, you were the one to lightly hint at it.

if you could, you would’ve looked up on how to ‘initiate sexual intercourse in the least awkward way possible’, but alas, it was too late for your poor self—

“don’t keep me waiting, doc” without hesitation, minjeong took off the shirt you lent, throwing the balled up fabric mindlessly in some neglected corner once she had straddled your thigh “someones gotta help me release those feel good hormones, or whatever you said earlier” with the absence of her shirt, her tits were exposed to the cold air. her pretty pink and puffy nipples out for you to ogle at. shit.

you didn’t exactly know where to look, nor what to do. the added pressure of minjeong’s body trapping you between her small body and your dense bed had rendered you speechless. so this was step one, what comes next. from what you had overheard in a colleagues conversation, the next step would be to maybe kiss her? or would it be to touch her body?

your hands seemed to stutter as you carefully hovered your clammy palms above minjeong’s chest. a part of you wanted to go for it immediately, this was of course your first time anyway. but another part in you held back. it was nerve racking to say the least.

minjeong stared at you with doe like eyes, anticipating for what comes next. although it took you quite a while to figure out what part comes first, then what part comes after the first part and so forth “my god. just touch me, damn” she huffed, grabbing your hand and pressing your palm flat against her tits.

at a loss of words, you froze for a good few seconds before feeling your face immediately heat up. your eyes flicked down from where she had placed your hand then back to her face, then back down again. certain things had a set way of executing stuff, so to have your hand cupped against her chest was surprising, yet not unwelcomed at all. just… it kind of threw you off guard. you thought you should have kissed her first before anything really.

“s-shouldn’t i kiss you, then place my hand on your boobs?” you admit, you sounded like an absolute buffoon in front of her, but hey, not your fault for thinking that there was an order you should follow.

minjeong simply scoffed “pft- no? i’m no prude. but if you want that, then go ahead. come and kiss me” before you knew it, minjeong pulled you upwards, throwing her arms around your shoulders. for her height and size, she was surprisingly kind of strong.

“wait, i don’t know how to do that either” you were too nervous to even think about kissing her, the thought alone made you flustered beyond belief. however, too afraid to disappoint her, inch by inch, you came closer to her face, her hot breath fanning against your quivering lips.

it should’ve been you doing all that work, not minjeong manoeuvring you to her will. you were supposed to be the one to take control instead of her. but besides that, you strengthened your resolve, shaking off the anxiety that caused you to behave like a wuss, which was in fact not like you at all. much like the movies you watched, you shut your eyes as you closed the gap between you and minjeong. for a brief second minjeong hesitated, but with time, the two of you shared a rather delicate and sweet kiss.

“was… was that okay?” it was a quick and innocent peck on her lips. minjeong chuckled, stroking your jaw with her hand before tilting your head to the side by your chin.

“how about you follow my lead instead” thumb resting on top of your lower lip, minjeong parted your mouth open. leading from where you stopped, minjeong kisses you slow and soft, savouring the taste of your lips. she caught your bottom lip in her teeth ever so gently, moving towards you again to kiss you with a much needed intensity this time. your hand was still rested on her chest, clearly not knowing exactly what to do with them. noticing this, minjeong guides your hands, squeezing her hand around yours to mimic the action of you doing it to her.

the contact alone made you groan. her boobs were nice and soft, modest, but they fit perfectly in the palm of your hands. the sensation they provided was so much more better than you had ever imagined. and without guide from minjeong, your hands instinctively moved across her body; drawing circles on her back, sliding your hands up and down the sides of her body, occasionally coming back up to her boobs to tease her sensitive nipples all while you let her savour your lips.

minjeong momentarily pulled away, stroking a few strands of hair away from your face “that’s it doc… just like that” her approval felt great to hear, made you more motivated, more confident in your actions “shit… mhm…” she groaned against your lips, pressing herself against your thigh as she rocked her hips back and forth.

this kiss gradually turned passionate. with you not knowing how or what to do, your teeth had accidentally clashed into hers briefly, but that didn’t deter her from carrying on. minjeong felt the need to take more from you, eagerly pushing her tongue inside your mouth to deepen this kiss, which in return, had you whipering pathetically. minjeong thought that your reaction was utterly adorable; she needed to hear more of those sounds.

upon your reaction, you pushed minjeong back a little. what came out of your mouth was entirely unexpected, and it kind of shocked you at how submissive you really did sound “s-sorry… it felt a little weird. but not a bad weird, you know. more like a, uh, tingly sensation”

“that usually means that what i’m doing is good. i take pride in my kissing skills thank you very much” despite the view in front of you, you couldn’t take your mind off of something else. between her thighs was a slightly damp sensation right on top of your own thigh. a small grin, a rather mischievous one, played across her face, giving her the expression of someone who had something up their sleeve.

whatever she was doing right now in the moment already had you a mess. what she had in mind would most likely have you confused, aroused, but definitely lost.

“move your hand down” she commanded. minjeong didn’t like to play around, always the type of girl to get what she wanted. you didn’t know that of course, but whatever, you obeyed anyway.

extremely hot and slippery was the only way you could describe what you felt in her lower regions. curious as ever, your fingers explored her covered pussy as if you hadn’t touched one before, because you haven’t. even though your touch was as light as a feather, the volume of her moans that fell from her lips sent your body into a temporary freeze. it was okay, you were okay. more than okay really. you were ecstatic.

honestly, you thanked yourself for turning off the bedside lamp. if it wasn’t for your hatred of a single shred of light whilst you were sleeping, minjeong would have seen your joyous smile in its full glory. now you were riled up, and it was evident in the way you glided your finger up and down her slit, her wetness clinging to your skin, enveloping them in a sticky warm mess.

it wasn’t like you to become so easily obsessed with something so quickly, but the way minjeong rolled her hips as soon as your fingers made contact with her throbbing heat had your head spinning around in circles “fuck— you said you were inexperienced doc. what’s with the sudden boost of confidence”

you didn’t quite understand it yourself, but there was something enchanting about minjeong. kind of like how sirens would lure their prey in with their looks, or their voices. either way, the comparison made sense in your head. she was naturally alluring, and it seemed like she knew about that “don’t know” you muttered, fingers pressing against a certain spot that piqued your curiosity “maybe it’s the fact that i’m interested in your body. it feels good to touch you down here specifically… it’s throbbing”

“my clit?” a smirk played on her lips, slowly grinding her swollen clit against the tips of your fingers, much like she was doing previously on your thigh.

“clitoris is the right term” after correcting her, you were too focused on the rolling of her hips to notice that you groaned out loud. and as a response, minjeong chuckled.

“you’re so unsexy. just use the word clit” her attitude prompted you to roll your eyes in slight annoyance.

“alright then. your clit is throbbing. was that any better?” all while you bickered with minjeong, your fingers never stopped moving, and neither did her hips. eventually the thin layer of cloth that kept you away from touching her directly, was moved aside by your hurried hand “you know what. just take of your pants”

“i’ll do you one better” her weight shifted off your body for a while as she fumbled with taking off the pajama pants you lent her. shortly after she threw the item of clothing next to the shirt she dumped off into the corner, her panties followed straight after. once again, minjeong was completely naked, and above you, straddling your hips with that grin she had that left you in a hot mess “i think you should use that mouth of yours” she spoke low, shuffling over to hover above your face with both of her thighs placed comfortably on each side of your head. her glistening pussy was right in your field of view, and frankly, you couldn’t fathom what was about to happen next. to answer her question, you simply hummed, caressing her thighs in languid strokes.

“what if i suck at this though?” there was a hint of insecurity in your tone, but minjeong was confidently sure that you were able to please her well enough. she trusted her intuition, and hoped you wouldn’t disappoint.

“i doubt. all you have to do is suck, lick, kiss and maybe even use your fingers if you’re feeling frisky. you’ll be fine” you weren’t fine. that sudden boost of confidence didn’t last long enough for you to do something as wild as this. yet you found yourself instinctively darting your tongue out with a subtle nod, inviting minjeong to take a seat on your face “eager aren’t you… just keep your tongue out like that for me doc”

time seemed to slow down once her soaked pussy made contact with your tongue, and my god did she taste divine. at this point you could feel your own heartbeat pounding in your chest and your mind filled with nothing but a need to pleasure the lonesome woman that sat right on top of your mouth, gyrating her hips to her desired speed.

it started off as minjeong simply using your mouth to get herself off, but you couldn’t bear not to do something to help her out. as she said a few minutes ago, you planted your lips on her heat, a few kitten licks around minjeong’s aching pussy, feeling around her dripping folds as you hummed in satisfaction as a response to her flavour “ah… that feels— fuck, that feels good. keep going, you’re doing amazing” continuing to lap around her folds, tasting the sweet and warm essence that dripped from her hole all the way down to your chin as you greedily chased it with your tongue, minjeong squirmed her body around in ecstasy; a tight grip on the headboard turned her knuckles white from the overwhelming force. a means to ground herself.

“s-shit… focus more on my clit, please” you obliged almost immediately, shifting focus on where she needed it the most. sliding your tongue from her lips all the way up to her overly sensitive clit, you gave her a quick suck, just as she had mentioned, earning a light moan that sent shivers down your spine. the more you brushed over with your tongue, the more minjeong whined and whimpered.

each moan that rolled from her lips encouraged you to increase the delicious friction your mouth could only provide “mhm, that’s it doc… keep sucking my clit like that…”

crude as it was, and how much those words affected you; after all, your eyes rolled as she moaned those words out with a breathy sigh, you began to lap around with hunger as if you had an appetite that couldn’t be satiated.

words muffled against the heat of her mound, you spoke after a long while of staying silent - since your focus was directed towards satisfying her needs “mmm, like this?”

you couldn’t see her nodding her head, but with the way she let out those decadent moans of hers, it was clear that she was enjoying the moment.

for some reason you decided this alone wasn’t enough for the grieving woman, so with your new found knowledge in terms of sex, your hand made way towards her slit, massaging her folds with your middle and index finger.

again with the frantic nodding. minjeong felt like she was enveloped in total bliss, forgetting about the people in the past and focusing on your fingers pushing inside her tight pussy “hhng… fuck. your fingers are so- they’re so long”

minjeong’s fleshy walls clenched around your fingers, practically trapping you there. it was hard to explore around with how tight she was, but eventually, as you started to feel around with your two fingers, stretching minjeong’s tight and pretty pussy, your ability to comfortably push in and out of her hole became much more easier.

with your lips closing around her clit, fingers pumping in and out with fervour; so fast, and rough that it was hard to believe that you were a virgin with absolutely no experience with sex whatsoever, made minjeong shamelessly moan your name for the first time ever.

“my god… oh my god, y/n. you’re so fucking good at this” a familiar tightness formed in the pit of minjeong’s stomach; a coil that was about to break from the sheer amount of pleasure jolting through her entire body. out of nowhere, you slammed the palm of your hand against her skin, fingers hitting her g-spot in rhythmic thrusts.

“is this spot good? does it hurt?” you were a tad worried about minjeong. the poor woman couldn’t usher out a sentence with how much she was feeling. the stimulation on her hardened clit, your fingers hitting every single spot that she couldn’t do herself, your muffled groans and sighs as your mouth paid special attention to her sensitive parts. it made her lose her mind.

to answer your question, minjeong whined out an almost inaudible “no”. her legs squeezed around your head as a way to tell you not to stop, to keep up what you were doing until she was satisfied. but with her legs trapping you between her thighs, you couldn’t properly breathe. did that stop her? no it didn’t. and did it stop you? absolutely not. you were determined to bring her to her edge; sucking, licking, kissing against her overly sensitive clit while your weary fingers kept on pounding relentlessly inside of her.

after what felt like an eternity, minjeong fell silent for a good couple of seconds before chanting your name out like a mantra “y/n… oh my fucking god, y/n- i’m.. i’m gonna cum. a-ah… fuck, i’m gonna cum-“ her hands that gripped onto the headboard immediately tangled themselves in your hair, pushing your head upwards and into her pussy as she convulsed on top of you. as she came, her thighs clamped down on the sides of your head and you swore you could’ve heard your jaw popping out of place from the pressure.

“haa… mmm… y/n~” she whined, languidly rocking her hips against your fingers and tongue as she rode out her intense high.

a few moments of silence went by. minjeong eventually stopped in her tracks and dropped onto your mattress right next to your body “m-minjeong?” you tapped her face. she wasn’t responding “hey, minjeong?” you checked her pulse, her breathing and everything until you came to the conclusion that she had passed out from both exhaustion and from her orgasm.

you snapped out of your haze, wiped her juices of your face and chin after you had tasted it once again. what an unforgettable flavour.

fatigue now coursing through your own body, you had to get up and do something urgent first before your tired body eventually stopped moving. rustling around in your bedside drawer, you pull out a packaged syringe and an empty tube “don’t wake up. please…” with one hand wrapped around minjeong’s upper arm, slightly cutting off her blood circulation, her veins began to protrude, allowing you to safely insert the needle into one of the more prominent looking veins.

you could’ve honestly asked her about taking a sample of her blood when she was conscious, but you figured out that she might have grown suspicious as to why.

lets just say that your personal and private work wasn’t ethical. and for that reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell minjeong what you were going to plan to do with that sample of her blood if she ever asked.

—

morning came by quickly.

unfortunately the sun didn’t shine through your windows as your room was basically a metal box composed with a bed, a desk, a chair and a closet. every morning here in the facility was so bland and boring. highly depressing too. imagine waking up almost every day here. you’re surprised none of the scientists were sick of it.

but anyway. you knew it was early morning since your alarm clock woke you up from a strange dream, and how you heard the chatter of many scientists walk past your room's door.

you turn your head to the side, expecting minjeong to be gone, but she was still there, chest rising up and down as she breathed softly in your bed.

taking the time to freshen up from the activities the two of you shared a hours ago; you take a quick shower, brushed your teeth and hair, threw on a clean pair of clothes and a newly ironed lab coat to get ready for another excruciatingly boring day in the laboratory. but before you decided to wake minjeong up, you needed to file that incident report.

incident report form

date of report: 17/01/30xx

full name: kwon y/n

person(s) involved: 2

location: section 02 to 03 of the science department.

time: 12:36am

describe the incident: new mutant species, possibly class A, broke into facility 03 and chased me until i reached laboratory 0201 in section 02. used the untested plasma rifle to exterminate said mutant.

mutant species seems to be a combination of multiple human mutants, and has multiple vital points in its body. runs at high speeds, can break through metal with ease, can squeeze into smaller cracks and holes without damaging its body.

unfortunately the cctv cameras briefly caught the mutant on tape.

was anyone injured?: yes.

if yes, describe the injuries: soldier patrolling around section 03 had broken limbs. was consumed by the mutant shortly after. no remains left at the scene.

were there any witnesses to the incident?: no

—

minjeong stirred awake shortly after you sent in the report. there was a stinging sensation in her left arm, but she paid no mind to it. maybe it was because of how intense the night was that her body was aching everywhere.

“good morning” you yawn, swivelling around the seat as you face minjeong. you chuckle at her appearance; her hair messy, tired eyes and naked with the blanket draped around her small shoulders “you woke up just in time. i finished writing the incident report and the overseers emailed me immediately after”

half asleep, minjeong hummed and tucked herself underneath the blanket “mmm… what did they say?” she spoke in a gravelly manner, which was to be expected since she had just woken up.

“they said i can take the day off. only thing is, i can’t leave you here. so you’re coming with me” your words didn’t register in minjeong’s sleepy mind. she only responded with another hum before rolling over onto her tummy, closing her eyes “no seriously. you can’t be left alone here. i don’t want anyone finding you outside of your pod”

“mmfh… okay~”

—

it took a while for minjeong to fully wake up and get dressed, but after she was done tying her shoe laces, you briefly explained how you were going to leave the facility undetected “the scientists don’t usually leave the labs until it’s lunch time, so we’ll use that to our advantage” most of your colleagues stayed put in their stations, slaving away until they were tired and needed a well deserved break whenever they needed one, unless one of the overseers tells them to get back to their research “usually i hitch a ride whenever i enter the city. a bunch of locals i’ve made acquaintances with take me to where i need to go if i don’t have a car. so really, the only issue we have is that i need to get you out of here without people getting suspicious”

“or maybe i could pose as a scientist. or maybe a soldier that’s guiding you towards the city for research purposes” minjeong suggested. to be honest, that was a good idea. the military inside the facility didn’t really care all too much about scientists anyway. and also you were trusted amongst your peers and the rest of the military. that trust enabled you to roam freely within, and outside the building. in the case you needed an assistant scientist with you, they would need an ID.

“actually yeah. that’ll work. means we don’t need to sneak around the place then” you toss minjeong a lab coat and a spare fake id you had rotting away in your dusty drawer just in case a situation like this would occur.

and with that, you two were set to go.

a/n: if you spot any mistakes pls tell me 😭 i did read through the fic this time so i’m hoping there’s none… and if there is i’m going to kms </3

TAGLIST (open):

@jade-jini @yeetaberry127 @keervah @aespasoooool @1luvkarina @bitchiswild @masterfvck @myouicieloz @sseulforgii @rinapomu @saysirhc @yuyuy90

[greyias]

Important Cazador Whistling Update

This entire document is FAKE NEWS -- because he doesn't give two rats ass if you whistle in his vicinity. Things I tried:

Whistling at him mid-fight. He doesn't react, because he's too busy turning into a red mist to get away from the party kicking his ass. Higher priorities and all.

Drinking an invisibility potion, sneaking up to him and then whistling in his face. Just triggers the cutscene where he thinks he can use you as bait. Very irritating, I'm trying to annoy you here! Stop turning the tables on me you monster.

And on an abandoned save, desperate to try and cut out every other factor, I unequipped all my daylight shedding weapons, convinced Cazador I'd totes betray poor Astarion just to have Cazador not hostile for five seconds and then started whistling right in his ear

CONCLUSION:

Chamberlain Dufay made up the whistling rule himself, lied about Cazador hating it just so he never had to hear anyone's offtune whistling ever again.

Wait wait wait wait wait

THERE'S A WHISTLE FUNCTION IN-GAME

I need to try this out, don't I?

[marvelfilth]

The Witches Trap

Part 2

Pairing: dark!Wanda Maximoff x f!reader

Warnings: ghosts, description of death, paranormal activity, gore, blood, a bit of horror ig, typical ghost hunting stuff, nothing too scary tho

Words: 5.5k

Summary: you go ghost hunting with Peter, Yelena and Kate. What could go wrong?

A/n: first time trying out some spooky stuff, so bear with me. Heavily inspired by Sam and Coby on YT.

Masterlist

The way Yelena drives is far from smooth and sound, but she vehemently refuses to let Peter behind the wheel, so here you are, yelping and griping the sides of the driver's seat headrest like your life depends on it. You hiss when your head meets the roof, and Kate sends you another toothy smile from the front seat, her eyes flickering to look at Yelena every few minutes. You look to your right to check on Peter, but he is busy fumbling with equipment, his camera carefully stored away in a bag as he keeps checking the microphone.

You sigh and relax against the seat when the road finally smoothes out, and think about why you even agreed to this. Peter asked you to tag along for a new video for his YouTube channel, and by asked you mean begged you with his best puppy eyes and a bag of goodies in his hands. Apparently, if you agreed to go, Kate will go too. And if Kate goes, he won't even have to ask Yelena.

He was right.

So now the four of you are on the way to one of the most haunted places of America - Westview hotel.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Yelena asks, turning her head left and right.

"Yes," Peter answers, glancing up for a second.

"Honestly, this is too creepy already," Kate mumbles, her eyes locked on the numerous dolls pinned to the trees surrounding the road.

"The owner probably made someone do that. No way they had this type of dolls back in the eighteenth century." You try to reassure Kate as much as yourself.

"Actually, the first doll like that was made-" Peter finally looks up with an excited glint in his eyes, and you immediately press your palm against his mouth, "No. I don't need to know that."

"Ha! Little Y/n is scared," Yelena laughs, but her laughter is cut short when a twig hits the side window, making her shriek like a maniac.

"This never happened," she grumbles when the laughter finally dies out.

Relaxing against the seat you try to remember everything Peter told you about this hotel.

It got notoriously famous in the late eighties, when a high schooler got possessed by a demon and later died in a psych ward. The room the girl stayed in was closed off for twenty years after that. You wonder if Peter managed to book it.

Another thing you remember is numerous sightings of a dark, cloaked figure appearing in most random places, whether it's a supply closet or a presidential suite. It always managed to scare the shit out of anyone who was unfortunate enough to catch its interest. You shudder at the mere thought of encountering that particular entity.

"We're here," Yelena cuts off the ignition, and leans against the wheel to take a look at the building.

Your breath catches in your throat the second your eyes land on the magnificent hotel. At seven stories high it stands proudly on a hill, overlooking the vast grounds. The facade is noticeably worn, but no less majestic - a blend of dark wood and stone, a balcony stretching along its entire length. A dark figure on the corner of the rooftop makes you squint, and you gasp when you realize it's a gargoyle, albeit a very rickety one. You make a note to yourself not to walk under it.

Yelena ushers you along, shuddering as she notices the stone figures. “The air here is kinda thick,” she mutters.

You nod, feeling your chest tighten. She's right - the air grows heavier with each step you take. You hope the hotel itself is ventilated enough.

When you finally step inside you take a deep breath, looking around the foyer and spotting who you presume is the owner.

"Welcome to Westview Hotel! My name's Agatha, I'm the owner of this happy little place and your guide for today. Hope you have the worst time of your life here!" Her voice is too cheerful for the late hours, and you cringe at the full on villainous laugh she lets out.

Peter goes to speak with the woman while the rest of you look around. Yelena plops on the loveseat, her backpack thrown on the carpeted floor near her feet, and Kate just stands beside you with her mouth hanging open - you're sure you're wearing a similar expression.

While the outside of the hotel looked somewhat old and weathered, the inside completely blows you away with its beauty. It's elegant, if a bit eerie, with a grand chandelier and high arches that make the space feel even bigger.

You frown, sensing someone's eyes on you, and notice Peter glancing in your direction every so often. You send him a questioning look, but he only shakes his head, his lips pressed together and his cheeks puffed.

"Do you think he's going to sacrifice one of us to that witch? Scarlet Witch, right?" Yelena muses.

"Yeah, but I don't think you're her type." Kate winks at the blonde.

You snicker at her annoyed expression, and stumble back, accidentally bumping into someone. You turn around, an apology on your tongue, only to choke on your words when you are met with an empty lobby.

Your friends stare at you quizzically, but Agatha seems to be lost in thought, her eyes trained on the space right above your shoulder, then she slightly shakes her head, her lips pressed in a tight line.

"Sorry. I thought I bumped into someone…" You trail off, your back burning, an eerie feeling settling in your stomach.

"Sure thing, buttercup." Agatha winks at you, her mood changed back to normal in an instant.

You shudder, looking back at your friends. Yelena whispers something in Kate's ear that causes the younger one to chuckle, and Peter has his camera pointed at you.

"We already got some paranoid activity ten minutes into the night," he blabbers behind the camera, motioning for you to explain what happened.

"Um... It felt like I bumped into someone?" Talking to a camera is weird, but you manage to explain what you felt. "... I think it was nothing though, just my nerves acting up." You force a chuckle, your eyes moving to meet Agatha's stare.

She moves closer to be in the frame, and tells everyone about how much the Scarlet Witch loves to mess with younger women, her favorite pastime in this hotel seems to be entertaining the ladies. However, her idea of entertainment slightly differs from yours, and you gulp when Agatha mentions her choking sleeping guests and locking them in elevators.

"This is going to be incredible, guys," Peter says to the camera, his excitement too contagious for you to worry about your safety.

×××

The next two hours are spent walking behind Agatha and listening to her stories about various tragic deaths that occured in this hotel over the past hundreds of years. She stops every ten minutes or so in front of different rooms, each story worse than the previous one, and you shudder when she tells you a story of a woman buried alive in one of the walls, Agatha's hand casually resting on said wall.

She is telling you another story about a guy that danced on a ledge to impress a girl and fell on one of the spikes in the lobby, when you suddenly feel a tug in your chest. You stop, checking to see if anyone else felt that. Kate is staring at the ledge with her mouth wide open, Peter's busy filming Agatha and butting in with commentary (much to Agatha's displeasure), and Yelena grips Kate's hand so hard, you are sure she couldn't possibly see anything other than the wall in front of her.

You exhale and look around, trying to spot anything interesting, even though you've been looking at the same set of stairs for the past ten minutes. Strangely enough, you notice a door that surely wasn't there before, because you would've noticed it right away if it was.

While every part of this hotel was renovated, this door looks like it belongs in the past, with heavy iron hinges and a weird looking handle. There are no signs on the door, nor any numbers or words, and when something tugs on your hand, you follow the feeling.

You walk almost in haze, your friends' voices blurred in the background, unfamiliar warmth surrounding you, your chest lighter than it ever was and your mind in a euphoric state. You turn the knob and it gives in, the door rattling loudly as you tug it open, but before you could even glimpse inside, a hand slaps harshly on the wood, the door closing with a loud creak.

You blink owlishly, warmth gone and your head suddenly clear, as you take in Agatha's furious expression.

"It says 'Employees only'," she hisses through gritted teeth, and you step away from the woman.

"No, it doesn't, there's noth-" you choke on your words when you look back at the door, because now it looks like every other door in the room, 'Employees only' written in bold.

You look back at Agatha and apologize, but it seems like she doesn't hear you, her brows furrowed and her eyes flickering between you and the door.

"Okay that's hella creepy," Kate breaks the silence, her unoccupied hand digging in a pocket of her jeans to present a cross. "God will protect us." She puts it around her neck, and nods to herself.

"You don't even believe in God." Yelena jams her in the ribs, not letting go of the brunette's hand.

"You really should," Agatha casually advises, tugging at your elbow to move you further away from the door, "follow me, I'm going to tell you the story of the Scarlet Witch."

You cast one last look at the door and follow her down the hall to the very last room, something warm pressing at the low of your back to lead you. Shuddering at the feeling, you wonder why it is only you who feels something weird. Kate keeps sending you worried looks, but, other than that, she seems okay with Yelena's hand pressed firmly into her side. Peter isn't fazed at all, excitingly recording everything in sight.

Exhaling, you try to relax. If something here wants to harm you it wouldn't use such a gentle approach.

Or maybe it's just luring you in.

When you finally stop in front of room number 208 you feel a poke in your ribs, Yelena nods her head for you to look at Agatha, and you confusedly look up. Apparently, she wants you to open the door. Gulping, you move forward, your hand reaching on its own accord. You turn the doorknob with some hesitation, your hand trembling slightly. When you're met with a sight of a regular hotel room, you let out a quiet breath.

The walls are painted an unassuming beige, with green and brown accents, the earth tones bringing a feeling of calm. The four poster bed is pushed against the farthest wall, with nightstands on either side, and you could already imagine how soft it would feel to sleep in it. But the only thing that truly gets your attention is a floor to ceiling window and a french door, which hopefully leads to a balcony you spotted from the outside.

Agatha walks past you into the room, resting her weight against the foot of the bed. "It was locked," her eyes seem to be glued to yours as she speaks, "second locked door you opened today. I find that… interesting."

You are aware of Peter's camera being shoved right in your face, you're aware of Kate's hand reassuringly clasping your own, aware of Yelena's calming presence, but you are focused on something else entirely. There is this feeling again, now familiar warmth taking root in your chest, almost singing to you. You briefly close your eyes, savoring the sensation, wishing you could feel more.

"This is our most active room," Agatha says, "last year some teenagers decided to use a Ouija board in here and it got even worse. So you're in for a wild ride."

"This is nuts," Kate says from the other side of the room, trailing her hand over the painting of a burning witch.

"Oh, this actually happened here," Agatha drawls, taking note of your surprised faces, "almost a hundred young alleged witches were burnt at the stake here, on these grounds…" Agatha continues on with the story, but your eyes are stuck on Kate, on the other side of the room, your body frozen in shock. You can still feel what you thought was Kate's hand on your own, but with her standing on the other side of the room, and Yelena looking at you like you've grown two heads, you decide it's enough.

"Can you tell them to stop?" you shriek, stepping further into the room.

The warm feeling in your chest intensifies, the ghost of a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your cheek, turning your head to look at the painting. It's so gentle, so soft, it makes you lean your head in search of more.

"Them?" Agatha's voice grounds you. "I believe there's only one witch who is interested in you."

"What's going on?" Kate asks, moving away from the painting. Panic starts to rise in your chest, making you struggle to breathe. "Y/n, are you okay?" Kate's by your side in an instant, hands rubbing your sides, and you lay your head on her shoulder, silently reminding yourself that no ghost can hurt you.

"I thought you were standing beside me, I felt you take my hand, but you were on the other side of the room," you whisper against her shoulder.

"No. We're going back home." Yelena pales and tugs at your elbow, smacking the back of Peter's head with her other arm. "Your idiotic idea is going to give her a heart attack," she hisses and leads you to the door, hurriedly turning the knob.

It doesn't turn.

"What the fuck." She tries to open it again, and again, and again, until Agatha gets pissed and yells at her for trying to break the door.

"If she wants you to stay, you'll stay." She places her palm on the wooden door, and gives everyone a stern look.

"Say the word and I'll break that door open." Peter reappears by your side, looking guilty as ever, his camera now hidden away.

You take a deep breath and look around, now feeling much safer with all of your friends (and Agatha) by your side. The room looks like no one has touched it in years, and the warm, calming feeling in your chest only intensified after your little break down.

Maybe the witch just wants some company.

You meet Peter's eyes and manage a smile. "I survived Yelena's driving, I'm sure I'll be fine after this."

"Are you sure?" Yelena and Peter ask you at the same time.

"Yes, guys, I'm fine. I'm just not used to it like you are," you smile at Peter, and he nods in understanding.

He spent his college years filming in haunted places, a little hobby turned into a full time job as his channel grew bigger and bigger. Usually he invites his friend Wade to film together, but this time he really wanted you to come.

"Glad we settled that. Now sit," Agatha commands.

You take a seat on the bed, Yelena and Kate immediately placing their arms around you. Peter settles in a comfortable looking chair by the window, and Agatha stays standing, clearing her throat before venturing into the story of the Scarlet Witch.

"I'm sure you know that being a redhead, green-eyed, and exceptionally smart young woman in the 17th century meant one thing."

"Barbecue," Yelena mumbles, earning a scathing glare from the older woman.

"Yes. But here's the thing - the Scarlet Witch was never burned at the stake, and not because she was so good at staying hidden, but because she has never had a physical presence in this world, at least one that we know of. There's no proof of her existence, no paintings and no pictures, no sightings either."

Yelena shifts beside you. "Then how do you even know-"

Agatha cuts her off with another scathing glare, before continuing on. "We know because every single one of these poor women cried out her name before their inevitable death. They begged her to save them, but she never did."

"That still doesn't-"

"For the love of god, just shut up and let me finish!" The older woman shrieks, throwing her hands in the air. Momentarily closing her eyes, she clenches her jaw. "She never saved any of these poor girls, feeding on their fear, anger and desperation. She enjoyed what was happening. Hell, she spurged it on, manipulating minds, changing people until they became unrecognizable, and after this hotel was built she took charge, driving owners and residents away, leading people to their inevitable death, and lately possessing unsuspecting women. All of those poor people had one thing to say - 'it was the Scarlet Witch'." She shifts on her feet, turning to look out the window. "Hundreds of years of terror, but there was one good thing she's done. There was a particularly nasty witch trial, the poor girl was accused of seducing a priest's daughter. Imagine the horrors she was bound to be faced with if they got their hands on her. They never did, she escaped their clutches, and every single man involved in the hunt on the girl was brutally murdered. The girl died of old age in the safety of her own home, forever protected by the magic of the Scarlet Witch." Suddenly, her eyes lock on yours. "There's no trace of the Scarlet Witch, but there's a painting of the woman she saved. I'd show it to you, but for you it'll be the same as looking in a mirror, so I'll save myself the trouble."

Peter suddenly sits up straighter, nodding along to Agatha's words.

Kate slides her hand away from your shoulders. "Don't want to make her jealous or anything," she whispers, looking around.

"Do you say this to everyone or..?" You hesitantly speak up.

Her eyes turn serious, causing a chill to run down your spine. "Oh no, buttercup, you're a spitting image of the only woman she deemed worthy enough to save."

"She's not lying," Peter says, "that's actually the reason why I asked you to come." He sends you a sheepish smile, and shows you a picture on his phone. It's an old painting, weathered by time, but undoubtedly beautiful.

The woman looks just like you.

You gulp, your heart hammering in your chest. "Well, I'm not her."

"Maybe not. It's not like it matters." Agatha mumbles, standing up, a faraway look in her eyes. "She must've had her reasons to save the poor girl, and I suspect they were far from noble. Be careful." She looks at you one last time before turning to Peter. "Well, it's been fun entertaining you, but it's nearing midnight, so I'll leave you to your ghost hunting, or whatever it is that you're doing." Her lips purse at the numerous cameras Peter's unloaded from his bag.

"Wait!" You jump up, stalling Agatha. "How do you even know about what happened at the trials? Is there some kind of document?" You're aware of the absurdity of your questions, after all you are the one who experienced all of the activity so far, and while some of it could be blamed on your nerves or your brain playing tricks on you, the door accident still burns at the back of your mind.

"You don't believe me?" Agatha smirks, making you shift uncomfortably. "Don't worry, you'll see, you have a long night ahead." She sends you one last look, and easily opens the door before disappearing behind it.

You fall back on the duvet, pressing your palms against your face. The past hour puts an uncomfortable weight on your chest, and you struggle to wrap your mind around the fact that you're probably going to be targeted even more as the night goes on, either by your terrified, overly anxious mind, or the Scarlet Witch.

The warm feeling you felt when you first stepped into the room slowly disappeared, leaving you to wonder if it's done its job in luring you in.

"Okay, it's time to-"

"We're not using a Ouija board."

"- light up some candles." Peter says, looking quizzically at Yelena. "I'm not stupid, you know." He huffs, rolling his eyes.

You snort, shaking your head at your friends' antics. "Why do we need candles?"

Peter rolls his eyes. "To communicate with ghosts."

"Don't you have some fancy tech for that?"

"I prefer to keep it simple," he shrugs.

You share a look with Yelena. "And we'll be left talking to the AC," you mumble loud enough for Peter to hear and send you a middle finger.

"There's no AC in this room. Some people use flashlights, but I prefer candles. We'll also use a spirit box."

"We're not catching any spirits in a box, right?" You sit up, eyes darting between your friends.

Peter sighs and goes on a rant about his tools, explaining how everything works. To your great relief, you won't have to catch anyone, just put on a blindfold, some noise canceling headphones, and let some spirit talk though one of you.

"Sounds fun," Kate gulps.

"I'm not doing that." You shake your head, crossing your arms.

Peter looks up from the floor, where he adjusts the rem pod, the piece of equipment going off when he touches it with a tip of his finger, calibrating the sensitivity. "Yelena will do that."

It's almost comical how far Yelena's jaw falls. "And why is that, Parker? Why don't you let some spirit use you as a radio?"

"Um… my tarot reader told me you'll do best out of all of us."

Kate starts cackling like a maniac, clutching her stomach and bending over. You can't help laughing either, burrowing your face into the pillow to keep quiet.

Yelena continues arguing with Peter, and you decide to leave them to it and satisfy your curiosity. You smile at the questioning smile Kate sends you, and gesture to the balcony door.

You were right, it is the balcony you saw from the outside, stretching all the way to the other side of the hotel. You sigh and lean against the railing, taking in the view. If you thought it looked terrifying on the way here, it looks even worse from high up. Moonlight shines on crooked trees surrounding the land around the hotel, dark and menacing, broken branches hanging on the last threads. There is a well within walking distance, not too far away from where you parked the car. You swear to yourself you won't let Peter drag you over there, it looks way too creepy.

You finally relax, letting your eyes fall shut for a second, but a blurry movement to your left forced them open. You grip the railing, squinting.

Nothing.

"What the fuck." Kate's voice sounds from the inside, and you rush back just in time to see her exit the adjoined bathroom, snapping the door shut with a terrified look on her face. "No. Oh fuck no. Oh no, no, no."

Peter sits up, alarmed. "What is it?"

"There's blood on the mirror," she whispers, her hands shaking violently, "and in the tub, and on the floor."

Peter immediately gets up, taking the only camera that's been filming the whole time with him. You follow your friend, not paying attention to your shaking hands and your hammering heart.

When the door opens you see a pristine bathroom, so clean it's almost mocking. He inspects every corner from every possible angle, only to come up short.

"Guys?" Kate calls out from behind the door. "Are you good?"

"There's nothing he-" you freeze mid sentence when your eyes land on the mirror.

It's fogged up, one word clearly written.

Your name.

You reach out - not of your own violation, your hand guided by some unseen force - and touch the reflective glass right where your name is. You're hit with a vision, bits and pieces of what feels like distant memory escaping the prison your mind put them in.

You see a wrinkled face of an old man, his expression pure disgust as he spews something right in your face. The scene changes abruptly, and now you're in a dark cell, with only the moon to keep you company. Your heart clenches at the pure anguish you're hit with, the desperation drowning you, leaving you no room to breathe. There's a sudden blur, and everything turns blinding white, and then… you feel that warmth again. A woman stands in front of you, reaching out, her eyes glinting red. She looks ethereal, her skin pale, almost sheer, her unruly hair pushed back by a red tiara. You gulp, feeling the power radiating from her, chest aching with the need to submit to it.

You stumble away from the mirror. There's no warmth in your chest now, only pure, unconcealed dread. You lean against the door, palms pressed to your face. Peter doesn't dare breathe, his hands only shaking slightly as he makes sure to get it in the frame.

"Where did you just go?" He whispers, not daring to speak any louder.

You shake your head, blinking back tears. "Tell me you did this. Tell me it's a prank."

He looks at you, eyes full of fear. He bites on his lower lip, eyes wide. "I did this. I totally did this." He nods rapidly, ushering you out of the room.

Kate and Yelena wait on the other side, each holding a candelabra. You don't even bother to ask where they found them, heading straight to the balcony for a breath of fresh air while Peter explains what happened.

You look at the full moon, rubbing your chest in tight circles.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Again, and again.

The floorboards of the balcony creak, along with the railing, and you wonder if it's all gonna fall to the ground, and bury you in a mess of wood and cement. Maybe that's what the witch wants - for you to stay here forever.

You feel the remains of that need, that hunger for the witch. You long to see her again, even if it's just a glimpse, a whiff of her presence.

When you come back, the lights are off, and Peter is already asking questions, Yelena's terrified expression telling you everything you need to know about the answers they've been provided with.

The candle on the nightstand goes out, and Peter blinks, looking at you. "Weird."

"What?" You ask, looking around, hair on the nape of your neck standing up.

"He asked the ghosts if they wanted us to leave." Kate answers.

"That means they do." Yelena points at the candle.

You shiver, a breeze from the balcony making you curl in on yourself, eyes flickering to every dark corner of the room, flinching whenever you see shadows from the moonlight that look a little too ominous.

Someone is watching you, you're sure. A part of you hopes it's her.

"And why is that weird?" You ask Peter, watching as he collects the candles. You sigh in relief, glad to have missed the conversation.

"I thought they liked us - you - at least," he mumbles.

"Maybe they want us gone so the witch can have some alone time with Y/n." Yelena's brows jump up and down suggestively, and you can't help, but laugh, some of the tension finally seeping away.

That is, until the last candle on the nightstand lights up again, completely on its own.

Peter staggers back, dropping the stack in his hands. "No fucking way," he whispers, "that never happened before."

He pulls back to check the camera, making sure it's still recording.

"That's a yes, right?" Kate gulps, looking at you with wide eyes. "She wants you wants you. It's not a coincidence."

You take a seat on the rocking chair in the corner and close your eyes, reminding yourself that nothing here could ever hurt you. It doesn't really work when you still feel eyes on you. Your hands tremble, and your legs feel too heavy to stand on. Every sound is amplified, your senses going into overdrive, so when a clock stops ticking, you immediately notice.

The clock reads 12:08, the hands still for a moment, before resuming their course.

You're slowly starting to wish you never agreed to come to this place.

Agatha's words ring in your head. What if the witch thinks you're that poor girl? That'll explain the witches' interest in you. Maybe she made you see those visions to help you remember.

But… What if it's not even her that's been following you? What if it's one of the dark entities Agatha told you about? The thought makes you even more uncomfortable - you'd prefer the Scarlet Witch to haunt you instead of some dark, trapped soul, no matter how absurd it sounds.

"Hey," Kate approaches you.

You blink, and offer her a hesitant smile. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" She bites on her lip, her hands on your knees.

You nod, and take her hands in yours. "I'm fine. Just a bit shaken up."

She sighs heavily, head falling to rest on your lap. "Same," she mumbles, "I feel like a prey."

You rub her shoulders, hoping to ease some of her tension. "We'll be out of here in the morning."

She looks up, smiling. "Actually, we're not sleeping here. Peter said we'll try to talk to them one last time and then go."

You hum, wondering why the information makes you feel worse. Shouldn't you be relieved to leave earlier?

"Okay, come here," Peter calls, putting noise canceling headphones on Yelena's head.

Kate jumps up, her eyes lightening up at the sight of Yelena sitting rigidly on the chair, a blindfold and headphones in place. "Oh, this is gonna be good," she smiles, settling in front of the blonde.

Peter looks at you. "I think you should ask the questions."

You nod, biting on the inside of your cheek. You think of something appropriate to ask - something that would reveal information without offending any of the spirits here.

"Are we here alone?" You ask, and everyone turns to look at Yelena, awaiting an answer.

Yelena's head bobs up and down, like she's listening to her favorite song, but you know for sure it's just white noise.

"Hello," Yelena says, smiling slightly.

Not alone, then.

You nod, and Peter gestures for you to continue.

"My name is Y/n, what is your name?"

It's quiet for a little while, occasional squeaks from the balcony making you jump up and look around.

When Yelena doesn't answer, Peter decides to speak up. "Did you follow us here from the lobby? Was it you-"

"Shut up," Yelena barks.

Kate stumbles back on the floor, and settles against the foot of the bed. "Oh fuck."

Peter takes a step back, raising his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Sorry." He nods at you, urging you to continue.

"Do you not like him?" You ask.

"In… in the way…" her voice is unsure as she trails off.

"Peter's in the way? In the way of what?" Kate speaks up, looking at you.

"Deal," the blonde whispers, "owe."

Peter frowns. "You made a deal and you owe someone?"

Yelena purses her lips, tilting her head to the side like she can't quite figure out what is being said.

The bathroom door slowly creaks open.

"Are you in the bathroom?" Kate's voice shakes, and you take her hand, shuffling closer to the girl.

"Blood."

You exhale, looking at the open doorway with wide eyes.

Kate nods rapidly, her hand trembling. "There was a lot of blood. You scared the shit out of me."

Yelena chuckles, "Feed."

So whatever is here has been feeding on your fear.

"Who are you?" You ask again.

"You know," Yelena replies. "You all do."

"What's behind that door?" You have the strongest urge to go back there.

Yelena chuckles, shaking her head. “Go see for yourself.”

Light starts flickering, tears spring to your eyes, and you fight the urge to curl into a ball and cry. Yelena turns her head and sits up, leanings towards you.

"You forgot."

"Forgot about what?" You shudder, eyes darting between the door and Yelena.

"Our deal."

Peter darts to the other side of the room and snaps the door to the bathroom shut, his mouth set in a flat line. "We're leaving."

"She can't," Yelena singsongs.

"There's no deal. You're mistaken," Peter snaps, collecting the equipment.

"What deal?" You hesitantly ask.

Lightning strikes outside, a loud boom of thunder following. The painting of the burning witch falls.

"I own y-"

Peter tugs off the headphones, Yelena's mouth snaps shut. She tugs off the blindfold and blinks, brows set in confusion. "Are we gonna start any time soon?"

Kate groans, falling face first to the floor. "Fuck my life."

_______________________

Before you yell at me - yes, there will be a part two

[arthurhillmastermind]

George Clarke replied to your story.

2,172 words. Green circle. Red Circle. what’s the difference?

It all started a few weeks ago when George had posted a random Instagram Story asking fans to add him to their close friends lists so he could rank them for a YouTube video—“best, funniest, cringiest, whatever,” he’d promised with that ridiculous smile. Your group chat had of course collectively lost their minds.

“Oh my God, we have to do this,” someone had declared, already tagging him in a story.

You’d rolled your eyes at first. Sure, George was funny, creative, and admittedly attractive, but you weren’t about to feed his ego by crafting some elaborate story just for his amusement. Still, in the chaos of everyone else freaking out, you’d ended up adding him anyway. Not to make the cut for his video—you didn’t post anything remotely funny or interesting enough—but just to shut the groupchat up. And honestly, you forgot to remove him after.

Then came the thirst trap.

It wasn’t even planned. You’d been bored, playing around with some poses, when your friends dared you to post something from the many photos you’d sent them, a simple selfie where the light hits your face and hair in the perfect way, just to mess with people. It had been a joke, like everything else on your close friends, and you’d captioned it, “This one’s for just you ;)” to really sell the bit.

No one actually expected him to see it.

But George Clarke, the man with an unbelievably high screen time, saw everything. The notification came in mere minutes after you posted it. GeorgeClarkeey replied to your story

“Me?” one word. That was all it took.

“Girls” You typed very quickly

Cue the group chat imploding.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” your friend types back know the message “Girls” meant something had happened.

“George replied to my story”

“HE WHAT?”

“He’s going to think it’s serious.”

“Can we talk about how he responded in record time???”

“He’s going to make this a thing. I feel it in my soul.”

The replies came in at record speed. Sure enough, George wasn’t done yet.

Another message popped up while you were still processing the first: “Wait. That was for me, right? Like… actually?”

You groaned, tossing your phone onto your bed. What the hell was going on? George Clarke had a talent for this shit, and now you were directly in the middle of it. Of course it wasn’t specifically for him. It was a joke, a dumb joke fueled by group chat dares and late-night boredom. But now George Clarke was in your DMs, actually engaging, and you had no idea how to navigate this.

You sat down on your bed , unlocking your phone to stare at his messages through your notifications like they might explode if you opened them. What the hell were you supposed to say to that?

“Me?”

“Wait. That was for me, right? Like… actually?”

It wasn’t for him. Not really. But at the same time, it wasn’t not for him, and there was no universe in which you could explain that without sounding ridiculous.

Your phone buzzed again.

“Take your time, I’ll just sit here wondering 😏.”

You groaned, throwing your head back. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just scroll past like a normal person? Better yet, why did you still have him on your close friends list in the first place?

The group chat, of course, was zero help.

“Just say it was for him. What’s the harm?”

“Tell him it’s a metaphor. Keep him guessing.”

“Confess your undying love and ask him to follow while you’re at it.”

You sighed, finally flopping onto your bed and opening the messages.

“What if it was?” you typed, hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

Immediately, your heart dropped into your stomach. What had you just done? Before you could spiral too deeply into regret over your reply, another notification popped up on your screen.

GeorgeClarkey started following you.

You froze. What the actual fuck was going on? Was this some elaborate joke for his video? Was he about to screenshot your profile and blast you to his friends and his followers as part of his next roast video?

Panic set in almost immediately. You scrambled to your profile, fingers flying as you opened your highlights. What did I even have on there? Your close friends was one thing, but your highlights were public.

The first highlight was fine. A sunset. Very normal. The second was a random dog you’d seen on a walk. Also fine. The third? Oh God, the third. A blurry photo of your face captioned, “Why am I like this?”

You cringed, hitting the delete button, but before you could delete anything else, another notification lit up your phone.

GeorgeClarkey replied to your story:

“Ok but… jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?”

Your group chat exploded before you could even blink.

“HE FOLLOWED YOU?!”

“Shut up. He did not.”

“Bestie, you’re famous now.”

“Oh my God he did! i checked his profile! Did he post anything? Has he said anything else?”

You ignored them, heart pounding as you stared at the notification. This couldn’t be real. George Clarke, internet golden boy who had every teenage girl in a chokehold, was actually engaging with you.

What the hell were you going to do?

You stared at George’s message, your mind racing: “Ok but…jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?”

Before you could fully process it, your fingers moved almost instinctively, opening the group chat. You switched to voice notes because typing just wasn’t fast enough to convey the absolute thoughts in your head.

“Guys,” you hissed into the mic, pacing your room. “What the actual fuck is going on? George Clarke just messaged me again. AGAIN. And he said—wait, no, let me read this. He said, ‘Ok but… jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?’”

You paused, pacing more furiously as all your friends started typing back.

“I don’t know what to say!” you continued in the next voice note, your voice slightly higher now. “Like, do I admit it? Do I deny it? Do I block him and change my name? HELP ME.”

The replies came in almost instantly:

“Post the screenshot right now.”

“Oh my God, you’re in a rom-com.”

“Say it was about him and see what happens. Do it for the plot.”

“Voice note us back with the drama or don’t bother replying at all.”

You rolled your eyes, even as you hit record again.

“Okay, fine. I’ll reply. But if this ends with me being clowned in one of his videos, you’re all accomplices.”

With one final deep breath, you typed out:

“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. What’s it to you?”

Your thumb hovered for a second, but then you hit send, immediately regretting it as your phone buzzed with another notification.

“Oh, it’s something to me. 😉”

You groaned, sending yet another voice note to the group chat.

“I AM GOING TO SCREAM. He just said it’s ‘something to him.’ WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?”

Your friends weren’t helping, their replies now a chaotic mix of screaming voice notes and unhinged texts.

“He’s into you, bestie.”

“We’re living for this. Keep us updated.”

“I’m adding popcorn to my grocery list.”

Whatever George was playing at, it was… kind of fun.

You stared at his message: “Oh, it’s something to me. 😉”

Your heart thudded as you typed out a response, fingers moving on autopilot: “How come?”

For a second, you debated deleting it. Was that too straightforward? Too bold? But before you could overthink it, the message was already sent.

The group chat was on fire.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY???”

“Tell me you asked him why. PLEASE.”

“I’m pacing my room like it’s my drama, what is happening???”

You sent a quick voice note: “I asked him how come. Like, if he’s going to be cryptic, I’m making him work for it. I can’t just let him drop a winky face and get away with it.”

Your phone buzzed before the group could reply. Another message from George.

“Because now I’m curious. Was it really for me?”

You blinked at your screen. Curious? Curious?! Why did he have to phrase it like that? Like this wasn’t a throwaway Instagram post but some grand mystery he needed to solve.

You hit record on another voice note.

“GUYS. He said he’s curious. What the hell does that mean?!” you whispered furiously. “I’m spiraling. Do I double down? Do I back out? Help.”

The replies were just as unhinged as before.

“Double down. Always double down.”

“Tell him it’s his fault for making you curious too.”

“Can we just talk about how into this he clearly is? Like, bestie, he’s invested.”

You shook your head, biting your lip as you typed your next message.

“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. But now I’m curious—what if it was?”

Your thumb hovered for a moment before you hit send, already bracing for whatever chaos George Clarke was about to unleash next.

The notification popped up almost immediately:

GeorgeClarkey: “Well, if it wasn’t, how come I’m on your close friends and none of my friends are?”

Your jaw dropped. Oh, he was good. Too good. George Clarke wasn’t just playing along—he was winning.

You immediately switched to the group chat, hitting record on a voice note.

“Guys. He’s onto me. He said—and I quote—‘How come I’m on your close friends and none of my friends are?’” You paused, your voice rising in pitch. “WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT?”

The group chat blew up in record time.

“HE SAID WHAT?!”

“Oh my God, this man is flirting.”

“Deflect. Blame it on the algorithm. Lie if you have to.”

“No, no, you need to hit him back with something. Don’t let him win!”

You sent another voice note, pacing your room as you spoke.

“I don’t even know why he’s still on my close friends! It’s not like I planned this—he asked to be added for that stupid video, and I just forgot to take him off. But if I tell him that, he’s going to think I’m some kind of idiot who forgot George Clarke was on their list!”

One of your friends sent a voice note back, barely able to contain their laughter.

“Bestie, you are an idiot who forgot George Clarke was on their list. But now you’ve got him interested, so lean in. Own it. Say something mysterious.”

You sighed, staring at George’s message for a long moment before typing:

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

Your heart was racing as you hit send, half-expecting him to call your bluff immediately. Instead, the little typing bubble appeared almost instantly.

“Don’t mind if I do. 😏”

You practically screamed, sending another voice note to the group chat.

“Guys. GUYS. He’s not just flirting. He’s doubling down. What do I do now?!”

The replies came back rapid-fire:

“Marry him.”

“This is officially fanfiction territory.”

“No, seriously, keep him on the hook. This is your moment.”

You didn’t George’s last message—“Don’t mind if I do. 😏”—because honestly, you needed a minute to think. Or maybe several. So instead of spiraling over how to respond, you stuck to your plan.

Ignoring the little red dot on his message thread, you switched to Instagram stories and posted something casual to your story: a cozy shot of your coffee on the table, framed by the warm tones of a London café from last weekend. The kind of post you always shared on quiet afternoons. You added the café’s location tag for good measure, captioning it simply: Need this.

The group chat was, of course, waiting.

“Update: just posted,” you said in a voice note, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s a café pic. Totally chill, very me. If he reacts to this, I’ll… I don’t know, scream.”

You barely had time to put your phone down before it buzzed with a new notification:

GeorgeClarkey replied to your story.

Your heart jumped as you opened it.

“Good taste. But why didn’t you invite me?”

You sat there, staring at the message like it was in a foreign language. George wasn’t just reacting—he was flirting. Again.

“GUYS,” you hissed into a new voice note, pacing your room. “He replied. And get this—he said, ‘Good taste. But why didn’t you invite me?’ Like, is this man serious?!”

The chat erupted in chaos.

“Shut up, he did NOT.”

“He’s basically asking for a date. I’m calling it.”

“You better reply, right now.”

But you weren’t ready to give in that easily. Typing back too quickly would make it seem like you were waiting for him (which you definitely weren’t). So instead, you left his message on read, letting him sit with it while you debated your next move.

Another voice note: “I’m ignoring him for now. Let’s see if he doubles down.”

And honestly, you weren’t sure what thrilled you more: the fact that George Clarke had replied, or the fact that he was now waiting on you.

———————————————————————-

a/n my first george fic! there will be a part two! the formatting hasn’t worked the way it should have but i’ll work on it!

would like to thank George Clarke for seeing my close friends which then let to @pretendyoucantseeme who gave me the idea and @authortelevision for supporting the delusions. love you both😂

if you wanna be tagged in part 2 please let me know!

[blackynsupremacy]

CLARK KENT HELPING YOU TAKE OUT YOUR BRAIDS HEADCANONS

pairing: henry cavill!clark x blackfem!reader

fandom: DC

this was brewing in my head while actually taking out my braids today. plus, i wanted to give my baby henry a shot at this.

summary: it’s that time again! time to take down those 1-2 month old braids to prepare for your next fresh set. the only problem is, it’s raining, you’re tired, and you know it’s gonna take forever. yeah even getting your hair taken down, washed, detangled, and dried can be a hassle. fortunately, your fiancé, clark kent, is always happy to help with the process.

contains: lots of words, some things are based on true events, self insert, fluff, romance, established relationship, you and clark are simps, you and clark being fine, nudity but no smut, clark being a green flag, cuddling, kissing.

taglist: @rosiestalez @afrowrites @afrogirl3005 @simply-the-best23 @jkr820 @zombiehe4rt @elitesanjisimp @sabrinasopposite @gxuxhdjdu @tryingtograspctrl @ellethespaceunicorn

(i know i didn’t ask if ya’ll wanted to be tagged, but y’all are mutuals that consistently interact with my posts, so this is how i’m showing my appreciation! thank you! let me know if any of yall want to be tagged in my next blurb. again thank yall and i love my mutes)

• work was work today.

• it’s raining like hell.

• but good news, you’re getting your hair done this weekend! ain’t nothing like a fresh set of braids.

• the bad news, you gotta take out the old braids, wash/condition/detangle, and blow dry your hair all before your appointment. (yk how these new hair stylists be)

• girl, you’re dead tired, but you know you need to start asap!

• good news again though! your man clark kent is already home and you know he’s always down to help with your hair.

• ya’ll have been dating for 4 years before he popped the question a month ago on your anniversary.

• one thing about clark kent, he’s gonna hype up your hair no matter what style.

• he believes you’re stunning whether you have braids, twists, a lace front, locs, a slick back ponytail, a silk press or, your natural. he loves it!!

• he loves to watch you style it on your own or if you’re following along to a youtube tutorial.

• you’ve taught him a thing or two like taking down braids, detangling, applying edge control, and even helping you to wash and condition it!

• he catches on pretty fast and follows your instructions to a tee.

• his love language is acts of service and when it comes to your hair, he wants to make sure he does it properly.

• he told you he wants to continue learning because he can see himself helping out with your future daughter’s hair, so why not start with his future wife?

• this man is going to be the death of you.

• you see clark sitting on the couch with his laptop. as soon as he hears the door shut followed by your sigh of exhaustion, he’s already putting that to the side and zooming in your direction to take your bag, umbrella, and jacket off your hands.

• this man is teeth rotting sweet. how’d you get so blessed?

• he greets you with a warm embrace and plants a kiss atop of your head. he peeps that new growth, but he won’t mention it until you do.

• you both take a seat on the couch and have a brief conversation about each other’s day. you sigh again and run a hand through your hair one last time.

• “it’s about that time, clark. i’m getting my hair done soon and i need to start taking my braids down, but i’m so tired!”

• you whine and lean your head on his broad shoulder before you peer your “please help me” doe eyes into his blue ones that were hiding behind his glasses. he doesn’t hesitate to keep that eye contact either. it’s so intense yet intimate. you almost look away because even after 4 years, clark can still get you a bit flustered from time to time.

• “baby, would you like to help me out again? i promise you’re not gonna have to do all the work. i just need some assistance to get this done faster.”

• you playfully pout and bat your lashes. you already know the answer, but this brought you joy. you knew he was waiting for an opportunity to help with your hair again.

• he shows off those pearly whites before he enthusiastically responds, “i’d never thought you’d ask. you go change into something more comfortable, i’ll handle the rest, and we can get started.”

• he lays a chaste kiss to your lips and pats your behind to signal for you to handle your business and you don’t hesitate to do so.

• by “handling the rest”, clark gathers the necessities: 2 pairs of scissors, a detangling comb, 4 hair ties for sectioning, a plastic bag from that one drawer in the kitchen, your satin bonnet, and an order of chinese takeout placed on doordash.

• clark was waiting on the couch and he gleamed when he saw you come back clad in a white tank, no bra, grey cotton shorts, and one of his oversized, plaid flannels.

• as soon as you found yourself comfortable on the couch, clark handed you a pair of scissors and ya’ll got to work at cutting the braids shorter before you both section off your hair into 4 parts and start unbraiding from the front.

• you started on the right side, while clark took over for the left.

• you obviously know of clark’s abilities, his extraterrestrial heritage, and his intense duties as superman. he makes sure his powers can be of help in the most important areas of his life, one of them being your relationship.

• he’s had some practice with unbraiding and his fingers moves like clockwork. he moves at a delicate, quick pace and uses his keen eye to make sure your hair doesn’t get tangled or pulled, so there’s no unnecessary breakage. braid by braid, each one is removed out of your head and into the empty, plastic grocery bag that’s placed between you two.

• he’s seen you sometimes get it tangled and you would be quick to just cut it off, but with his aid, you’ve been doing that less frequently.

• after about 30 minutes, clark can already hear the doorbell ring and footsteps walking away. the food’s here.

• he opted for contactless delivery this time because he knew he just had one more braid….and done!

• he urges you to give your hands a break from unbraiding your side and to wash them because your dinner has arrived. he chuckled as you perked up hearing that because you were hon-grey!!

• he also takes it upon himself to gently place your satin, royal blue bonnet on your head.

• it’s his absolute favorite because it’s patterned with his iconic red and gold family crest!

• you have a friend who owns a small business of designing bonnets, durags, and head scarves with the cutest patterns imaginable for black nerds like you.

• they got some with superheroes, anime characters, hogwart house symbols, disney, you name it!!

• 2 years ago, you asked them to commission a bonnet to match his heroic attire.

• this was to show him that you’re proud of his kryptonian roots and that you 100% support him being one of the world’s most selfless heroes along with the other members of the justice league.

• you sometimes worry for his life, but he always tries his best to make it back to you in one piece.

• but girl, that bonnet had him geeking when you showed it to him!! his face heated with a bright hue of pink before he plants a billion kisses all over your face. his voice never ceasing his appreciation and eternal love for you.

• you both chill for a few minutes to eat and watch some tv.

• you stretch your hands, placed your bonnet on the coffee table and resumed to unbraiding the last strand on the front before sectioning it off with a hair tie and starting on the back of the right side. it seems that time moves slower (or faster) as your fingers meticulously unravel each braided strand.

• clark is half way done with his entire side. his brows raise at the sound of your soft groan of what seemed to be pain and exhaustion.

• “babe, my fingers are starting to cramp and so are my arms.” you gripe and pause your movements to massage out the stiffness in your fingers.

• clark also pauses what he’s doing. he delicately grasps your hands into his, sprinkling tiny pecks on each aching knuckle. his pink lips lingers on the rock that adorns the fourth knuckle of your left hand before those baby blues gaze into your own eyes.

• you could clearly see your worn reflection in his pupils, but you lovingly smile as you know what he’s about to say.

• “c’mere, beautiful. let me take care of the rest while you sit and relax. it’s just a few more and it’s nothing i can’t handle, so it’ll be my pleasure.”

• that’s true. clark’s an invincible kryptonian. unless your hair was laced with some green k, a cramp within the joints of his digits wouldn’t be possible. if you ask, he would one day take out your braids all by himself without you having to lift a finger and he’d be in pure bliss of taking that burden off your plate.

• he spreads his thighs apart. the large palms of his hands encircle around your waist to shift your body in between his legs before his fingers get back to tenderly remove the last remaining braids.

• as he does so, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. ya’ll would be cracking jokes, planning suggestions for the wedding, your jobs, and a myriad of other topics to kill time.

• about 30 more minutes pass by and your braids are finally out! he leans back feeling accomplished and marvels at how much your hair has grown over the month.

• “may i?” he politely asks. his expectant eyes glancing into yours for approval.

• “of course, kal.” you grin. it’s like seeing a child light up in a candy store, he’s so elated.

• you feel more at ease and lean into his touch as his fingers lovingly caress through your natural hair and scalp.

• you know that he just wants to feel your hair in it’s natural state. it’s not out of a fetish, but out of pure fascination, so you let him!

• you love that even though you’ve been together for 4 years and he’s helped you with your hair on multiple occasions, the curious kryptonian wonders why he always has to ask you before touching your hair.

• as a journalist, he’s gonna conduct his own research.

• he educates himself and he understands the history of that one boundary in your community, so he always asks you before touching your hair or he waits for you to offer.

• he’s not even human and he understands the basic human decency of not to reach out and touch someone’s hair out of nowhere.

• you sigh in relief and thank clark with a kiss before you go to dispose the plastic bag of worn out braids to the kitchen and into the large garbage can. you turn around and lean up against the sink.

• now it’s time to wash, condition, detangle, and dry.

• clark already knows the next step. he stands from his position on the couch and stretches his back muscles. he moderately saunters to the arched threshold that separates the kitchen and living room. his tall stature works in his favor as he casually raises his arms with his hands gripping the arch that’s a few inches above his head.

• you know exactly what pose i’m trying to poorly describe to the best of my ability. it happens to be one of those non-sexual turn ons that men do without them realizing.

• you go into a bit of a hypnotic state as you stare at his bulging biceps. you also take notice of how his white t-shirt raises up to expose a small section of his sculpted abdomen. the raven tresses on his skin that perfectly matches the messy curls on his head form a trail straight down to his—

• the trance is broken by the baritone voice of your fiancé.

• “my eyes are up here, angel. were you even listening to me?” he flirtatiously quips and tilts his head with a playful smirk curving on his lips, lowering his arms to cross them over his chest.

• like some suave lady killer, he approaches you and places his index under your chin to shift your gaze to his.

• girl, not you getting caught in 4K! you know that man is fine, but you got to finish off your hair. there’s no time to waste when it comes to that, so you must stay focused.

• you can’t help, but feel the heat of embarrassment rush on your melanated cheeks and giggle nervously before you confess.

• “i’m sorry, clark! after all of these years, you still get me sprung. now, what were you saying, boo? ”

• “it’s no worries, (n/n). don’t doubt that you’ve got the same effect on me too.” he blushes himself, beaming at the compliment and pecks your forehead, nose, and lips before he resumes his question.

• “would you like to wash in the sink or shower?”

• he bursts into a joyous laugh as you don’t hesitate to choose the shower.

• of course he was hoping you’d say that, but you shut down the idea because you just want to kill two birds with one stone, wrap this up, and cuddle in bed.

• he understands where you’re coming from and it’s no pressure at all. you both love when you two get down in the bedroom, but you share a common belief that spending quality time is the key to true intimacy.

• he takes your hand and leads you both to your shared bathroom.

• he puts his glasses on the sink, switches on the shower and checks for the perfect temperature that’s not too hot for your scalp, but not too cool for your body.

• you go to obtain large drying towels, african net wash cloths, and disposable shower caps. you then seek out the shampoo, conditioner, and detangling cream to nourish and clean your hair.

• you return to the bathroom with the items and clark gets your second opinion on the water temperature. you get a feel and let him know that it’s just right before you both strip of your clothes until you’re both completely naked. you make sure your engagement ring is placed in the velvet box it came in and set it on your drawer before you both step under the running water.

• clark reaches up to detach the shower head. before making a move, he asks if you need any further assistance in this step and you gladly accept, closing your eyes as he handles the shower head to pre-rinse both of your heads for a well deserved cleaning.

• as he puts the shower head back where it belongs, you let him know that you want to do the shampooing for both you and him.

• yep, clark uses your products on his hair!

• one time after your fifth date, he hugged you and his sensitive nose stealthily picked up on the natural, sweet, and intoxicating scent of the hair lotion that seeped into your scalp. he thought at first it was your perfume, which he loves too, but he was mistaken!

• “my god, you smell amazing.”

• clark takes you out to dinner and feeds your ego! okay, kal-el!

• he couldn’t get enough of it!

• this aroma— it was like something fresh and made from natural ingredients without any harsh chemicals.

• it reminds him of the homegrown warmth and love that his parents, jonathan and martha raised him up in back in smallville.

• if it wasn’t so soon (or the fact that he hasn’t told you his secret then), he would literally fly you out there in 10 minutes.

• when you moved in together, he would sometimes sneak a bit of your shampoo and conditioner in his hair routine once or twice a week until you finally caught up to him!

• you scolded clark a bit for using your products without permission because you would’ve let him use a little if he’d ask and plus, that stuff was expensive!

• he looked genuinely remorseful and apologized. “i’m sorry, (f/n). it was wrong of me to sneak like that, but i just wanted to use it because it’s like i’m taking a part of you with me everywhere i go. that way even though we’re apart, i don’t feel so alone in this universe anymore.”

• that almost had you crying and throwing up. he’s as big a simp for you as you are for him, so you couldn’t stay mad at him!

• you had an agreement to share or double up as long as you both are putting in for it.

• it was definitely no problem for clark because besides it’s sentimental value, it does wonders for his hair! it looks healthier, shinier and it feels softer compared to those 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner concoctions that he’s been using since high school.

• he loves your weekly beauty supply store excursions. he doesn’t care if the 6 items in your cart is $35, he’s paying for it all!

• clark’s aqua pupils observes from behind as you pour a generous amount of shampoo into your palm, rubbing the other against it, and massaging the bubbly, white substance through your scalp. your fingers work to make sure every single hair on your head is lathered in the coconut scented liquid and he notices that you’re careful not to tangle it.

• his own trance is broken by a “your turn! now lean down a bit, my love.” you’re now waiting for him to follow through, leaning his head down and forward to make his now drenched, dark hair right in your view and in your reach.

• he exhales at the contact of the cold shampoo descending on his scalp. as your fingers massage through his hair, his eyes close and a smile of ecstasy plays on his lips.

• your touch, the scent of the product, and the fact that if he opened his eyes again at this very moment, your breasts would be right in his face is clark’s idea of his personal heaven.

• you both take turns to rinse your own hair and each others to double check that all of the suds of the shampoo are gone.

• you repeat the process again, but this time it’s with conditioner. once that’s applied, you both put on the shower caps to let it rest and do its thing.

• you both use that time to talk some more and thoroughly clean your bodies of the filth of the work day using the african net wash clothes and aromatherapy body wash.

• after one last rinse of ya’lls hair, you cut the water off and grab the towels set out to wrap around your soaked bodies and dripping hair before walking to your shared bedroom.

• fortunately, you and clark have your own respective hair dryers, so that step doesn’t take too long before you take on the final boss: detangling.

• still clad in your towels, you and clark apply the detangling cream through your scalps. as he uses his comb to effortlessly rake through his noir mop, you just kind of stand and stare at the detangling brush in your hand.

• if you’re tender headed, you’ve probably lived the nightmare over and over with your heavy handed mother tugging the comb through the knotted ends, jolting your head and neck forward as you whined in pain. of course she got mad at you for that and said that it didn’t even hurt.

• you’re grown now! with your own bills, home, car, job, and man. there’s way more stressful things in the world than getting some knots out.

• you start the teeth of the comb from the root of your hair and hear the wet stickiness of the detangling cream as it glides to the end.

• okay, we’re getting somewhere! no pain or the pulling of knots for the next few strands near the front. now let’s start on the back. comb one, comb two, comb three—

• “ow, ugh!” you yelp. cringing as you hit a knot at the end.

“ woah! sweetheart, are you alright?”

• clark immediately halts his actions and puts his comb down. he takes one step behind you to examine the situation.

“please, lord, don’t tell me it’s tangled that bad.”

• you attempt to comb without breaking your hair out and the more you try, the more painful it gets. your arms and hands started to stiffen again.

• you lowkey wanted to cry because you just want this to be done and sleep peacefully in clark’s arms for the rest of the night.

• you immediately ask clark for help and he once again, comes to the rescue. he was gentle and comforting, but straightforward when it came to getting those knots.

• he talks you through it to make this a little easier.

• “i’m so sorry, honey. this is gonna hurt a bit, but we’re gonna knock these out and go straight to bed in no time, okay? i love you.” he kisses your temple before he proceeds with the task.

• several minutes of detangling are over! clark gets a second shower of kisses all over his face as you thank him again.

• you discard your towels and replace them with your nightclothes. clark’s shirtless with his sweats and you’re comfortable in another one of clark’s shirts with a fresh pair of cotton shorts.

• you put your hair in an afro puff ponytail and as always, you let your fiancé do the honors of placing your superman patterned bonnet on over your hair like a king crowning his queen.

• he looks at you with such pride and joy. seeing you happy feels so good it hurts. it makes him feel as weak as when he’s around green k. maybe even more.

• clark wouldn’t feel too comfortable to wrap his hair up just yet, so you suggested he uses a satin pillowcase instead.

• speaking of pillows, you look at the clock and realize it’s gotten late. you and clark shut off the lights and retire your exhausted bodies into your bed.

• you lay in a fetal position and turn to face him. kryptonians don’t usually need that much sleep as humans do, so you weren’t surprised that he was still awake.

• you both gaze and admire each other in comfortable silence. your hand reaching to his jaw. your brown toned fingertips caress the pale yet angelic face of the man you love. he closes his eyelids and leans into your warm touch.

• like a magnet, you drew closer to his face until your, full yearning lips rested on his. it doesn’t take him a second to melt into it, his hands clinging to your waist to rest your figure on top of his. your palms find themselves to rest on each side of his jawline.

• between each kiss, the moonlight illuminates the wide smiles you exchange to each other.

• after you two get your fill of each other’s affection, you lay your head on clark’s chest with his arms still acting as a shield around your back. he pecks your temple and is pulled in by the music of your steady heartbeat. he looks down to see your eyes pointed toward his and your hands folded flat on his chest.

• “thank you, clark. thank you so much for your help, your patience, your kindness, your love, and your compassion. not to mention that you are so fine, you still get me giggling like a schoolgirl at my big age! whether you’re superman, clark kent, or kal-el, i just thank you for being you. i love you, clark kent and that’ll never change.” your lips curve with a beaming smile.

• “(f/n), you need to know that everything i do, i do it for you and i’d do it again. you’re the most beautiful person and i’m not just talking about your stunning beauty. your heart is golden. despite everything that we’ve been through, it’s always been you. you understand me, you give me grace and hold me accountable, you still believe in me when i don’t even believe in myself. that’s how i knew i had to ask you to marry me, so i love you more, (f/n) kent and that’ll never change.”

• “look at us! we’ve only been engaged for a month and it sounds like we’re exchanging vows already.”

• “that sounds like a great start to me.”

• you both laugh and he gives you one last lingering kiss on your lips. your heads drop and your eyelids close before you take your peaceful slumber in each other’s presence.

[dailywatchersiblings]

my son my son vote for my rectangular son

he is five years old and nearly exploded at the end of the game

Favorite Sega Character Losers Bracket Round 1

[gorae]

eyeliner 101

pairing  —  lee jihoon (seventeen) x gn!reader

tags  —  fluff, established relationship, reader is pretty good at eyeliner, 0.9k words, unedited

there are certain days where you and jihoon are far too tired to go out and end up staying at home doing nothing.

today is no exception.

you are nestled in between jihoon's outstretched legs, with one of his arms around your middle. with every breath, his chest rises up and down against your back, and sooner than later your breathing becomes synchronized with his. both of your gazes are stuck to your phone screen, watching a youtuber apply makeup to their face.

“that looks difficult.” jihoon's deep voice rumbles from behind you.

you turn your head ever so slightly so you could see his face, giggling once you catch sight of his furrowed eyebrows. seems like he’s more invested in this youtube video than you are. “it’s not that hard once you get used to it,” you reply, amused by his undivided attention on the video playing.

“i’ve never had mine done that way before,” he mumbles, thinking out loud.

an idea immediately sparks to life in your mind. “wanna try?” you grin, looking up at him.

the turn of jihoon’s head towards you is quickly followed by an excited nod of approval. you push yourself off his warm embrace immediately after his response. scurrying to your dresser, you search your makeup bag and pull out a black eyeliner.

when you turn around, you find your boyfriend sitting on the edge of your bed, his focus already back on your phone screen. you bite your lip, holding back a laugh. “you ready?” you ask, walking back to stand in front of him.

“so you’re saying,” jihoon looks up at you, “you’re gonna do my eyeliner exactly like this.” he has an incredulous look in his eyes as he motions to your phone.

you squint your eyes. “are you underestimating me?”

jihoon's eyes widen. “no, of course not,” he stammers, scared to have hurt your feelings. unconsciously, his hands move to rub up and down your thighs, slightly pushing you to stand closer to him.

you giggle. “i’m joking, babe,” you say, as a sigh of relief escapes him. with a free hand, you tilt his chin upwards to face you. “now close your eyes.”

with a fond smile on his lips, jihoon complies and closes his eyes shut. you hold back his hair, then you rest your other hand on his cheekbone and started drawing on his eyelid with gentle strokes. you are too busy to notice him opening one of his eyes to marvel at your concentrated face in such close proximity.

“you are so cute,” he whispers under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

despite your heated cheeks, you shush him, not wanting anything to distract you from your work of art. jihoon smirks lightly at your reaction.

thankfully, your boyfriend managed to behave himself until you finish drawing winged eyeliner on both of his eyelids. taking a step back, you finally get to admire your masterpiece.

“i know i look good, you don’t have to stare that hard,” jihoon wiggles his eyebrows, only to have you roll your eyes in return.

ignoring him, you usher him to the mirror on your dresser, making him look at your work. “how did i do?”

“it looks really good.” jihoon turns his face this way and that, inspecting how the eyeliner enhances his eyes.

“tha-”

“i look really good.” he laughs when he sees you glare at him from the mirror. “can i try?” he asks as he turns around and walks back to you.

you tilt your head. “try what?”

“can i try putting eyeliner on you?”

after a few seconds of contemplation (and calculating the chances of him messing up and end up poking your eyeball with the eyeliner brush), you shrug. “okay. but be gentle and try not to poke my eyes.”

“of course.” jihoon makes you sit down on the bed and takes the eyeliner from your hand. “close your eyes, love.”

the last thing you see before closing your eyes was his mischievous smile (which in retrospect, should’ve been a warning to what he’s about to do). ignoring your suspicions, you stay quiet as you feel jihoon’s fingers tilting your chin up. mimicking your previous actions, he brushes your hair away from your face and rests a hand on your cheek.

everything was peace and quiet until you feel the brush stroking tip of your nose. your eyes shoot open, immediately leaning back to stay away from his reach. “ji, what are you-”

jihoon lets out a roar of laughter before saying, “wait- wait i’m not finished-”

“why are you drawing on my nose?” you whine, arms reaching out to try and grab the eyeliner back from jihoon. unfortunately for you, he effortlessly stretches his arm way out of your reach while continuing to laugh at the black spot on your nose.

giving up rather quickly, you pout before standing up to catch your reflection in the mirror.

and there it is. a jet black dot covering the tip of your nose. you whine jihoon’s name in protest, but it only makes him laugh louder.

“wait, i can make it look better,” he says, nearing towards you. you narrow your eyes at him. “i swear!”

you grumble quietly as he draws three lines on both of your cheeks. “i hate you.” you glance at the absurd drawings decorating your face in the mirror before turning back to jihoon.

“you look adorable,” he snickers.

(you really do. jihoon is genuinely complimenting you but you are far too exasperated to notice.)

“shut up.”