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readwritealldayallnight · 3 days ago
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Comatose Confessions
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader
wc: 4k words
warnings/tags: fluff
Part two to this
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He’s barely moved a single inch in the last hour
Though he blinks every so often, his eyes never once stray from where he’s held his gaze so steadily this entire time, as focused as any trained sniper could ever hope to be
Sat on his bed, back against the wall and stiff as a statue, he watches as the faint light creeping in under the crack of his door shifts every so often, the shadows outside refusing to stand still
He knows it’s you
As perfectly silent as you are, he can still see the shadow of your boots pacing back and forth, back and forth, again and again, just outside his room
You know he’s inside
And he knows that’s why you refuse to leave, annoyingly stubborn in your pursuit, determined in your efforts to get the man inside to put an end to his charades
He knows you won’t leave until you get what you want
And what you want, is for Ghost to stop avoiding you
He’s been very carefully, very intentionally avoiding having to speak to you
He can’t bring himself to do it
He just can’t
Not since he’s woken up
Not since his head felt worse than it had in a very long time, mind swimming through a heavy fog in an attempt to fight his way back to consciousness, his entire being had felt shaken to its core and thrown off its axis, his blood running cold with the unmistakable chill of pure, unadulterated fear, not too far off to how he’d once felt waking up with the taste of dirt in his mouth, buried six feet under ground
Only to be jolted into a startlingly opposite reality when he suddenly was able to smell that achingly familiar, enrapturing fragrance he’d come to associate with a certain someone, could somehow feel miraculously soft, gentle fingertips smoothing along his neck into his goddamn hair, an affectionate touch he’d only felt fleetingly as a young boy, and when he’d opened his eyes, he was certain he’d somehow snuck his way past the gates and into heaven
Because above him had been you, and though the light glowing around you burned his tired eyes, you remained a vision so beautiful to behold he could never dream of shutting his eyes ever again, could not help but to instinctually reach out to grasp you, should you vanish before him and he lose the chance to ever hold you, at least once
His brain was still pounding, insistently throbbing as it shocked itself back awake, fighting to take control back as his lips suddenly said the only thing that both his mind and heart could agree upon at this moment, looking up at you:
“Love.”
It was nearly an entire day later, following a flurry of you being whisked out of his room, doctors and nurses fussing over him, his mind and body slowly beginning to feel more like his own again, when Soap came to visit him and all too happily recounted to his Lieutenant what he’d supposedly said upon waking up from his days long coma
After the doctors released him from the med bay or rather accepted that the Lieutenant was going to leave when he wanted to whether they liked it or not, they’d given strict instructions for at least a fortnights rest, wanting to allow his brain enough time to truly recover, concerned that though everything else was checking out fine, that short bout of confusion upon waking could not be looked over when it came to head injuries
Confusion
Is that what they all thought it had been?
He couldn’t exactly blame them, he felt he’d done a more than phenomenal job of hiding the true nature of his feelings for you from anyone and everyone, making it appear as though he was nothing more than indifferent to your existence, far from someone he’d be relieved to see waking up in a hospital bed
No, he’d been far from confused when he’d insisted to anyone who would listen, not caring that anyone’s ears but your own would hear his words spoken with the utmost sincerity, when he called you his girl, his love
No, if anything that was the most honest Ghost had been in a long time
At least since you’d worked your way into his life and apparently his heart along the way
But now, nearly two weeks passed since he’d woken up and admitted to you in his vulnerable state of mind his true feelings for you, after months of carefully avoiding ever letting you know how he felt, months of keeping his distance in hopes of diminishing the gravitation pull he felt whenever you were near, and he couldn’t bring himself to face you
He can’t decide whether it’s a small mercy or not that in the fog of waking up and all the chaos that ensued, that he can’t recall seeing your reaction to his words, can’t remember seeing the look on your face when he admitted the words he would have preferred to have been buried with than to profess out loud to you
A blessing, in that he doesn’t know whether your face twisted up into a look of horror or disgust at his revelation, and a curse, in that he’s had days upon days holed up in his room, imagining every other possible reaction you might have had
Since his release from the med bay, you’ve come knocking at his door, he knows you’ve been asking around base for him, have tried to run into him during those few fleeting moments he trudges to the mess hall and back
Why you’re so determined to confront him, he can’t be sure
To laugh at him? Rub it in his face?
He doesn’t think so, it’s not something he believes you’d so, but then again he’s never had his entire heart held in a pretty birds hands before, especially when he’d never intended to hand the bloodied, somehow still beating thing over in the first place
Maybe you feel sorry for him, hope to let him down easy, or even pretend as though you never heard him in the first place, he’s not sure which would hurt him most if he’s honest-
None of those excuses feel right however, with the way you’ve been seeking him out so persistently, opposite to the neutrality the two of you had less than half a month ago, and so always more at ease in the certainty of his own misery, rather than the misery of uncertainty, he remains hidden from you
Fuck, he hopes you haven’t been speaking to Johnny too much
When he notices your steady back and forth pacing suddenly come to a halt with the shadows indicating you’re stood directly in front of his door, the only movement Ghost allows is the slightest quirk of his scarred eyebrow, gaze intent on where he imagines your form stands just beyond the thick plank of wood separating you
He’s holding his breath, wondering what your next move will be in this childish game of cat and mouse he’s roped you into, when he hears the slightest shuffling from outside, a crinkling sound accompanied by shadows moving about under the door, followed by the sound of your boots echoing away from him and down the hall
It takes him nearly another ten minutes before he dares to move again, already beginning to berate himself for the way he’s behaving like a frightened child, when his eyes lock in on the anomaly on his floor
The sun was just beginning to set when he’d dared to venture out to the mess hall and back to his room quickly, hoping it was the best time to avoid most everyone including you before they ran out of decently edible grub, only just slipping into his room and shutting the door behind him when he’d glanced down the hall and locked eyes with you turning the corner
Now more than an hour passed, the sun long gone and his food cold and untouched, he notices something that wasn’t there before
Slowly, Ghost approaches his door, bending down to a crouch to examine what’s been slipped so carefully underneath the thin seam of his door
A single cigarette
He huffs a silent approving hum, bringing the death stick up to his mask covered nose to smell the bad habit he hasn’t touched in a few days
In all his efforts to avoid running into you, he’d quickly gone through the packs he kept in his room, only daring to smoke them out of his own ajar window like a goddamn teenager hiding the smoke from their parents
He’d smoked his last one a handful of days ago, and had yet to pick up a new pack, his years long addiction to nicotine apparently coming second to his need to continue avoiding you, no matter the cravings he felt
Now however, holding the smoke between his calloused fingers, he finds himself too relieved to begin the logical train of thought that should accompany such a gift from you being slid under his door
Fetching his lighter out of his desk drawer, Ghost steps towards his window and cracks it ajar enough that he can lean his upper half out, prepared to enjoy his cig in peace
What he isn’t prepared for however, as he inches his balaclava up above his crooked nose and begins trying to spark the lighter to life, is for the flames to be reflected back at him through your very own eyes staring up at him, stood directly below his window
“Hi Ghost.” You whisper up to him with amusement, the faint quiver of your lip giving away the mischievous smirk threatening to push through the darkness of the late night hour
You’re quicker than he expects you to be, almost as though you anticipated what his next move would be, when you reach out to squeeze your hand between the window and the pane, just as Ghost hurries to shut it
“What the fuck do ye think you’re doin’?” The Lieutenant growls out, hoping to stall for time as he recomposes himself, internally shaking his head at himself for falling for your trick. Leaving him a damn cigarette like a taunt and waiting beneath his window for him to smoke it was purely childish on your part, but then again, he hasn’t exactly been the most level headed soldier on base recently either he supposes
“Apparently what I have to do to get you to acknowledge me.” You reply casually, refusing to budge your hand away from where it prevents the window from shutting you out. “How long are you planning on avoiding me? Hm?”
“You’re bloody mental if ye think tha’ I-” He cuts himself off with the sharp glance you throw his way, a look that easily reads ‘are you fucking kidding me’ even in the low light illuminated across your features. “Alrigh’, fine. You’ve got me. Your grand plan was to hide ou’ here, like some bloody lunatic, wait for me
 and then what? You plannin’ on climbin’ in through the fuckin’ window next?”
Fighting for the upper hand in this situation, Ghost watches as you take a deep breath, eyes quickly scanning the length between the ground and the windowsill, where you’re struggling to keep your hold while stood on tip toes
“Well I was hoping you’d invite me in by now. But I’ll do what I have to.” You decide confidently, raising your chin up high as you hold his gaze, refusing to back down now that you’ve got him in front of you. You must see something in him that puts a slight dent in your resolve however, as he watches your eyes soften ever so slightly, and you begin to shift on your feet. “I just want to talk to you, Ghost. Can’t we at least just do that?”
He fights the urge to grind his teeth as he clenches his jaw, shifting his eyes away from you as he struggles to maintain his composure seeing you standing there bathed in moonlight, a look of genuine sincerity on your face as you plead with him to be reasonable
“Fucking fine. But you’re using the bloody door. Don’t need you causing a scene out ‘ere.” He relents, pulling his hand back from the window pane.
“You promise to let me in?” You ask, hesitating before you release your grip on the glass. He peers back down at you, taking his own steadying breath before he offers a curt but steady nod in your direction. “Good, because my next move was going to be to pull the fire alarm, and that would’ve just been so much more of a mess.”
With that little revelation, he watches your hand slip away from the glass as you tip toe along the edge of the barracks, finding your way back inside. He scoffs to himself as he shuts the windows firmly, shaking his head at your antics as he stares solemnly at the unlit cigarette still pinched between his fingers
What the fuck has he gotten himself into?
Your fist has barely finished its first knock on his door before he’s swinging it open, reaching a large hand out to grip you by the waist and pull you inside before he has the chance to change his mind about this whole thing. He peers his head quickly around the corridor to make sure no one caught sight of anything before shutting the door behind you both, sealing him in with the last person he thought he’d find himself with tonight
He releases his hold on you as quick as he can, taking a large step backwards to put space between you both, eyes raking in the sight of you pressed up against the back of his door, an image he’s pictured many times before in his head but never believed he’d truly ever lay his eyes upon
He watches your own gaze hesitantly sweep around the space quickly, taking in the sparseness of the room. What he wouldn’t do to be able to take a peek into your mind, especially right now
“How’s your head feel?” You ask quietly, eyes shifting back towards the masked man’s visage as he clenches and unclenches his fists at his side. The only answer you get from him is a grunt you’ve heard from him often enough to know translates to ‘fine’. “Soap was telling me that if the docs clear you this weekend you’ll be able to start easing back into work.”
Ghost simply watches as you watch him, slowly lifting one foot before another, cautiously making your way over to his small desk and easing yourself down into the chair, all the while keeping him in your sight, as though he were a wild animal you might spook with one wrong move
“I’m sure they’ll pass you, but between you and me,” you add, leaning back slightly in the chair as a shadow of a smile crinkles in the corner of your lips. “I’d help you forge the docs signature if we had to. I’ve had my fair share of Soap, I’m ready to pass custody back over to you.”
At this, Ghost can’t help the soft chuckle that slips out, watching as the hesitant smile on your face forms into a full fledge smirk at the sound of his approval. With the tension in the room slowly beginning to dissipate already, he dares to allow himself to take his own atop his bed, opposite to you. Still though, he can’t completely let go of the nerves running through him, knowing you’re likely moments away from confronting him.
“You wanted to talk, let’s talk.” His deep voice rings out in the small space, hoping to cut straight to the chase, get this over with
“Right,” he watches you fidget in your seat, eyes leaving his for a moment as you begin to fiddle with your jacket pockets. “Listen Ghost, I- I realize that I might have heard something you didn’t necessarily want me to know.”
‘Yeah, that’s putting it fucking lightly’ he thinks to himself, but allows you to go on with whatever speech you’ve obviously prepare, hoping you’ll at least be quick in your rejection of him, and that this can soon all be a thing of the past
“And I figured if we were going to talk, it would really only be fair to level the playing field, so to speak.” He watches with veiled curiosity as you fish something out of your jacket. In your hands you hold a small, but clearly well loved notebook
“How’s that?” He questions, nodding towards the item in your grasp
“I don’t think I have to swear you to secrecy here but, I used to write in journals a lot, when I was little. Don’t really keep up with it as much anymore, you know how busy we are.” You mention, pulling the strap down from across the front cover and opening the book, fingers sifting through the pages covered in handwritten words of ink and lead. “Every once in a while I’ll write something down, if it’s memorable. But mostly I jot down my uh, well my more embarrassing stories.”
“Why would ye do tha’?” Ghost questions, eyebrows furrowing as he tries not to decipher any of the words he sees on in your book, unsure where this is all going
“Honestly,” you say with a small, airy chuckle. The Lieutenant ignores the sudden feeling in his chest cavity as he comes to the conclusion he’s never seen you smile so often, at least not so up close and personal. “Reading them back makes me feel better. They make me laugh. Especially after a long day or hard missions. Nice to come back to and remind myself not everything in life has to be so
 serious, I guess.”
You offer a casual shrug, still thumbing between pages as Ghost takes in your words.
“Anyways, I just thought that, maybe you’d want to hear something I would usually never tell anyone. Make us a little more even?”
He narrows his eyes at you slightly, understanding now what it is you’re trying to do.
He slipped up that day when he woke up from the coma, accidentally made himself vulnerable in front of you and said something he wish he hadn’t, something he’s embarrassed about
And so here you are now, offering to be vulnerable in front of him instead, to grant him access to some of your embarrassing moments and thoughts, level the playing field as you had put it
Yeah, he’ll bite
Again, he offers you no more than a subtle nod in your direction to communicate his agreement, but the way your eyes lights up at this response, you’d think he would’ve just agreed to make you Captain for a day
“Thought maybe we’d start easy. How about the time I accidentally spit my gum out on my CO’s boots? Or when I peed myself during basic-”
Ghost isn’t sure how you’ve done it, whether you knew this was how your cunning plan would work out all along, or if you’ve just gotten incredibly lucky tonight, but as one embarrassing story on your part turns into two, and then three, and suddenly hours have gone by, the stoic Lieutenant finds himself smiling with you, laughing with you, fuck he even starts offering up his own carefully curated stories when you pull an almost full carton of cigs out of your other pocket and toss them to him, the two of you sharing remarks over a shared smoke, hunched over the same window he nearly slammed in your face earlier
“Oh man,” you choke out in small fit of giggles, your hand holding your sides as you pass the cigarette back to him. “We oughta put all your dad jokes down on paper one day, you know why? Because they’re tear-able.”
He rolls his eyes as he takes a deep inhale off the cig, pretending the corners of his mouth haven’t been lifted nearly all night.
“Tha’ was awful.” He mutters, sparing you a side glance before he adds, “A real pun-ishable offence you jus’ committed there.” He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk anymore when your giggles grow louder at that.
“Alright, alright. I suppose my pun-ishment then,” you say between breaths, casting him a glance to see if he approves of yet another one of your corny puns tonight. “Would be to read these last few pages.”
He watches as your fingers dance across the handful of pages making up the end of the journal, yet to be read aloud tonight, your movements appearing hesitant for the first time this entire interaction.
Part of him feels the urge to tell you whatever it is, it’s not necessary, that you don’t have to read anymore about yourself that you don’t want to
Another part however, is far too curious, far too intrigued to know more about you, having learned more tonight from your own lips than he has in all the months he’s known you
“Actually, maybe I’ll just have you read it this time.” You say, reaching the journal out towards him, allowing him that one final glimpse into your personal thoughts. With a calloused palm, he takes the book from your hand, careful not to linger too long on the soft touch of your digits against his rougher ones. Glancing down at the words written haphazardly across the lined paper, he reads:
‘First week with the 141 went by in a blur, don’t think I’ve ever sweat so much on a base before, those men sure know how to train’
‘Captain is nicer than any other CO I’ve had before, and the Sergeants are funny, very welcoming’
‘The Lieutenant is
 different’
‘Not bad different (though he might not say the same for me), just different. Hoping to learn more about him soon’
‘One month on the team has flown by, almost can’t remember life before the 141’
‘The lads are great, but the Lieutenant still doesn’t seem keen on me being here. Which is a shame, his teammates speak so highly of him, and his work speaks for itself. Just wish he’d speak to me sometimes’
‘Almost half a year already, if you can believe it’
‘These men feel like family, all apart from the one who still won’t acknowledge me’
‘The lads say not to worry about it, that Ghost will come around eventually
 I just hope they’re right. There’s something about him I can’t shake. I find myself thinking about him more than I should’
‘Mission went bad. Lieutenant got hurt and has yet to wake up from his coma’
‘For the lads sake, I hope he wakes up soon’
‘Ghost opened his eyes yesterday
’
‘I don’t know if he meant what he said, or if he even remembers it, but I know I’ll never be able to forget it’
‘This entire time I’ve just wanted him and I to be cordial, to work together, hell maybe even become friends
 but ever since he’s said those words
 I can’t shake the feeling 
 maybe friends isn’t quite the right word for us’
Ghost isn’t sure how many times his eyes scan that last entry over and over and over, willing his eyes to believe what he’s seeing right in front of him, not until your hand slowly slips over his own, still holding the journal open, does his gaze flicker up to meet your own vulnerable stare
“I’ll be honest I’m not sure how to- do this.” You say with a slightly awkward chuckle, the vulnerability of the situation clearly starting to get to you as your Lieutenant stares you down wordlessly. “But I wanted to be honest with you. Couldn’t have you wallowing away in here any longer without knowing - well I guess without knowing how I felt too. I don’t know you as well as I’d like to Ghost, we haven’t exactly given each other many chances to do so. But I’d really like to be your
 friend.”
His eyes narrow in on the sweet but anxious smile you try to put on through your nerves, your earlier confidence diminishing now that you’ve truly laid your cards out and made yourself as vulnerable as you can before the man who still has yet to say anything.
Ghost takes a steadying breath, eyes never leaving yours as he tosses your journal onto his bed where it lands with a soft bounce.
Vulnerability like this, feelings like this
 it’s a grey area Ghost usually tries to avoid at all costs, a field of land mines he’d rather not cross, knowing no one makes it out on the other side unscathed
But with everything you’ve done for him, everything you’ve revealed to him, in combination with the throbbing organ behind his ribs fighting to beat its way back to life since the moment he met you and decided he couldn’t fall for you, Ghost finally relents and says fuck it. You’ve shown more bravery tonight than he has in the last two weeks, avoiding you like you were the plague, and it’s about time he put on his big boy trousers and show some bravery of his own now
“Don’ know it the lads told ya, but I don’ really do friends.” He says, slowly lifting a single boot and cautiously stepping in your direction
“I- I’ve heard.” You mutter, trying not to show the defeat that threatens to come across your features at his words, fearing he’s about to let you down.
The large man takes another step, and another, until there’s suddenly less than an inch of space left between both your heaving chests, and you have to crane your neck upwards while his is tilted down to keep his eyes on yours. Your eyes widen as you watch one of Ghost’s large hands come up into view, sneaking towards the bottom of his balaclava, which has been rolled up with entire time as you both shared some smokes
His fingers pinch the fabric, pulling it up further above his mouth to rest on the crooked bridge of his nose, revealing more of his scarred lips to you just as they whisper:
“But you and I, my love, aren’t quite friends.”
With the way Ghost’s lips come crashing onto your own waiting mouth, you’re inclined to agree with him
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 days ago
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Teacher's Pet Baby
First Time
Cg!Professor!Wanda Maximoff x little!student!reader
Summary: You slip during class for the first time and it doesn't go unnoticed
Word count: 1.4K
Warnings: Age regression, mild anxiety, emotional vulnerability, fluff and comfort
Authors notes: After writing the first part this had started to come to mind so it was nice to get it all written out~
Also, to all the littles, seeing this, please tred lightly on this blog! This is my big 18+ blog, but I do have some little!reader fics. Everything is marked accordingly!
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The first few weeks of class were nothing out of the ordinary—except for the way you found yourself drawn to Professor Maximoff. There was something about the way she spoke, how her voice carried both authority and warmth, that made you want to listen more intently. You were eager to impress her, to ask every question that popped into your head, just to see that soft smile she reserved for students who showed genuine curiosity.
You didn’t know what it was that made you crave her attention so badly, but you knew that every time she praised you, something deep inside you warmed, a feeling of safety and validation that you couldn’t quite explain.
Then, one day, as you flipped the page in your textbook, your eyes landed on the title printed in bold letters at the top:
Coping Mechanisms: Age Regression
Your stomach twisted immediately.
Two whole pages on the subject, defining it, explaining how it functioned as a response to stress or trauma. You barely heard Wanda begin her lecture, your mind spiraling as you felt yourself slipping, your fingers tightening around the edge of the book.
It wasn’t until you heard the soft laughter—quiet, but unmistakable—that the dread fully set in.
"People actually do this?" one student muttered under their breath.
"That’s so weird." Another scoffed, shaking their head.
Your breath hitched, and you had to blink rapidly to stop the tears from forming. They didn’t know. They had no idea that right here, in the same room, was someone who did—who couldn’t help it, whose mind sometimes reverted without warning. You wanted to shrink, to disappear, but before the panic could settle in further, Wanda’s voice cut through the murmurs, firm and unwavering.
"That’s enough," she said sharply, silencing the room in an instant.
All eyes snapped toward her, and you dared to look up. Her expression was serious, her usual soft demeanor replaced by something strict and protective.
"I expect professionalism in my class," she continued, her gaze sweeping over the students. "We are here to learn, not to ridicule others for coping mechanisms that are valid and often necessary for mental health." She let her words settle before adding, "If anyone here finds it difficult to show respect for psychological concepts that people actually experience, then perhaps this is not the right field for you."
Silence.
Your hands trembled slightly in your lap, but for an entirely different reason now. No one had ever defended you like that before. No one had ever made you feel like what you did—what you were—was okay.
Wanda’s gaze flickered to you for just a moment, softer now, like she knew. Like she had already pieced something together but wouldn’t call attention to it. Instead, she resumed her lecture, effortlessly guiding the class back on track, leaving you sitting there with a heart racing for a whole new reason.
From that moment on, you weren’t just drawn to Wanda Maximoff. You needed her.
As the lecture came to an end and you were trying to pack up Wanda called you over, "Have a good night everyone and remember to do the reading and get your assignment done for Monday's class! Oh and y/n please stay a moment. I'd like to discuss something with you." 
Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure Wanda could hear it. You weren’t in trouble—at least, she didn’t sound upset—but you still couldn’t shake the nerves twisting inside you.
She had never asked you to stay after class before.
You stayed frozen, hands gripping the edge of your desk as you watched her move. But instead of standing over you like a professor scolding a student, she did something entirely unexpected—she walked to the door, locked it with a soft click, and then made her way over to you.
Wanda crouched down in front of your desk, leaning against it with an easy, open posture. Her smile was gentle, and when her warm eyes met yours, something inside you softened, though your body still trembled slightly.
"Hi, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice filled with nothing but kindness. "You're feeling pretty small right now, aren’t you?"
You swallowed thickly. It was impossible to hide, not when she knew, when she could see right through you. Words felt too hard, too big, so you just nodded, blinking rapidly as emotion threatened to well up in your chest.
"That’s okay, sweetie," she assured, her tone soothing as she reached out, resting a hand over yours for just a moment. "This was your last class, right?"
You nodded again.
"I have papers to grade," she continued. "You and I can stay right here, okay?"
Another nod. This time, accompanied by a tiny, shy smile.
Wanda’s expression softened even further. She stood up, her fingers reaching out to gently comb through your hair, the touch grounding in a way you didn’t even know you needed.
"You’re safe with me, Malyshka," she whispered.
✎✐ ✎ ✐ ✎ ✐
While Wanda graded her papers you decided to draw, pulling out your crayons and drawing pad. Wanda let her eyes flick up every so often to watch you. Her expression softened as she saw you so concentrated, your tongue just poking out past your lips. 
She wanted to giggle, but worried it might upset you so she held back, turning her attention back to her papers until she heard you get up, feet padding over to her. She looked up past her glasses. 
"Yes sweetheart?" She asked softly, "Do you have something to show me?" You nodded eagerly and turned the page around.
Wanda let a warm smile tug at her lips as she examined the drawing, her heart melting at the sight of it. You had drawn yourself much smaller, hand held securely in hers, your features simple but unmistakably you. Wanda’s own figure was a little more detailed—her hair a mess of crayon strokes, her glasses perched delicately on her nose—but the most touching detail was the way your hands were clasped together.
Wanda ran her fingers over the crayon lines, her chest tightening in the best way as she admired your drawing. It was simple, childlike, but so full of love that it made her heart ache.
"You did such a good job, sweetheart," she murmured, looking up at you with a soft smile. "I love it, Malyshka."
Your lips curled up, eyes sparkling at her praise. You rocked on your heels, waiting, hopeful, and Wanda knew exactly what you needed. She set her papers aside, focusing entirely on you.
"Come here, baby," she said gently, opening her arms. "Come sit with Mama."
The second the word left her lips, she felt it—the way you froze. Your happy sway stopped, your hands clenched slightly at your sides. You blinked at her, uncertainty flickering in your expression as you searched her face.
"Mama?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.
Wanda stayed perfectly still, giving you space to process. She hadn’t called herself that before, at least not out loud, though she had thought about it more times than she could count.
"Only if you want me to be, sweetheart," she assured softly, her voice steady, warm. "I would never make you do something you’re not comfortable with."
You shifted on your feet, fingers curling against the fabric of your sleeves. "But... do you want to be?"
Wanda’s breath caught for just a moment before she exhaled, nodding. "I do," she admitted, her hand resting gently on her knee, not reaching for you, just waiting. "I’d love to take care of you in whatever way you need."
You stared at her, the hesitation clear in your expression. But beneath it, Wanda could see something else—longing, hope, the deep desire for safety and care.
She kept her voice soft. "You don’t have to decide right now, Malyshka."
You bit your lip, shifting your weight from foot to foot before, slowly, you stepped closer. Wanda didn’t move, letting you take the lead, and after a brief pause, you finally climbed onto her lap, settling hesitantly against her.
Wanda wrapped her arms around you carefully, rubbing soothing circles along your back.
You stayed stiff for a moment before you melted into her, resting your head against her shoulder. A soft sigh left you as your fingers grasped at her sweater, holding onto her like you were afraid she might disappear.
Wanda pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, her lips brushing against your warm skin. "I've got you, sweetheart. Always."
And this time, you didn’t hesitate to believe her.
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thebramblewood · 2 days ago
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Who knew window shopping could lead to so many revelations?
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All credit to @moonwoodhollow for Exerzierplatz, where you can find the bookstore, and @its-opheliasgarden for Umbra Boulevard, where you can find the antique shop, both of which are only one small part of these incredible builds!
Caleb: You’ve grown awfully comfortable with her.
Helena: First of all, you have no room to judge. [mockingly] Oh, she’s my sister and I loathe her! But I’m too much of a coward to move out.
Caleb: I’ve certainly never uttered those-
Helena: Secondly, being angry is exhausting. Holding an eternal grudge requires too much energy. And she can be fun — in her own way.
Caleb: You mean the way that’s fun until it isn’t? Not long ago, she had you on the verge of murder. Your memory can’t be that short.
Helena: We have our differences. But she respects my limits now.
Caleb: She’s being careful, but I know her too well to believe it’s for anyone’s benefit but her own. She’s only biding her time until you let your guard down.
Helena: God, you’re cynical.
Caleb: I’m realistic. For a long time, I held out hope she would turn back into the Lilith I knew. But there’s a point of no return, and she’s far past it. I just think you should tread carefully.
-
Helena: Why do you really stay? Is she holding something over you? Are you a masochist?
Caleb: I’ve told you. It’s complicated.
Helena: Have you ever even tried to leave?
Caleb: Helena-
Helena: Who’s Morgyn?
Caleb: [uncomfortably abrupt silent]
Helena: I heard that name in your head just now, not for the first time. I didn’t want to pry, but it must be someone who means a lot to you.
Caleb: Meant.
Helena: Did you have a falling out or-
Caleb: [flatly] They’re dead.
Helena: Oh. I’m sorry. [softly] Caleb, were you in love with them?
Caleb: Something like that.
Helena: What happened? Don’t tell me Lilith-
Caleb: [insistently] It had nothing to do with her. They were a spellcaster, a very powerful one. They wielded influence. They had detractors. One of those detractors killed them.
Helena: Oh my god. That’s awful. Could you tell me what they were like sometime — when you’re ready?
Caleb: [faintly] I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
Helena: Caleb, look! I haven’t used one of these since I was a kid. Do you think they’ve got film for it?
-
Caleb: Come on. Don’t waste it on a picture that won’t even turn out.
Helena: What’s the deal with that anyway? I saw something about silver online, but-
Caleb: Anything you read on the Internet is conjecture and myth.
Helena: Is it because we don’t have souls?
Caleb: [bemused] What does that even mean? Do you feel as though you’ve lost yours?
Helena: Yes. No. I don’t know. I guess I feel the same
 mostly.
Caleb: Countess Flores has a theory that we innately shroud our physical selves in images, just as we veil human minds, that we could appear if we willed it. But that remains pure hypothesis as far as I know.
Helena: I think I’ve attempted enough desperate selfies to safely debunk that one. You know, I wonder
 [trails off distractedly]
Caleb: Helena?
Helena: Maybe it’s not such a bad thing. I used to want to capture every moment, but now the pictures make it impossible to forget.
Caleb: We both know it’s not the pictures that keep the memories alive.
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00valentina-writes00 · 1 day ago
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I just thought about this and thought it was so fuckin cute. Ambessa (I’m so obsessed with her I’m sorry) x reader who likes to play in her hair? Just running her fingers through it and maybe styling it just to take it out later.
I love your work so much, you’re so talented but remember to take breaks every now and then. As usual, thank you. đŸ–€đŸ–€đŸ–€
This is really cute ngl-
LITTLE rant rq: I love running my hands through peoples hair, or just messing with it in general. It’s SO SO SO- comforting and fun to do. Literally I could sit next to someone for hours with a brush and just style their hair if they would let me.
✞⛧Tresses of Power and Softness✞⛧
Warnings: None! Just fluff
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You’ve always found solace in the simple things—the quiet moments, the stillness, the warmth. And tonight, that solace comes in the form of Ambessa Medarda. The cold, commanding warlord who takes what she wants and leaves no room for weakness. Tonight, however, she’s different. Tonight, you see her as she rarely allows anyone else to: soft, vulnerable, and still.
Ambessa sits in front of you, her powerful frame a mix of elegance and strength. The dim light from the candles flickers in her sharp eyes, casting shadows that accentuate the sculpted lines of her face. You sit behind her, your knees grazing the back of her chair, fingers poised to do what feels natural in this moment—run through her hair.
Her hair is short, practical, waves of dark, silky locks that are streaked with silver at the temples, adding a depth to the dark hue. You love it. Love how it feels between your fingers, the texture different from the severity of her usual demeanor. With every brush of your hand through it, you can feel her tension slowly fade away.
You start gently, your fingers tracing along the lines of her scalp, carefully moving through the short waves. Ambessa doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move. She simply leans back, resting her head on your chest, allowing you to touch her in this intimate way.
“Do you always find such quiet joy in the small things?” Ambessa’s voice is low, gravelly, as though she’s still adjusting to the feeling of relaxation. You notice the slight amusement in her tone, but there’s a softness there, too. An openness.
You smile, shifting your fingers so they begin to weave into her hair. “Maybe,” you answer, your voice equally soft. “It’s just
 nice, you know? The way it feels to be here, with you.”
She hums in response, and you continue your slow, deliberate movements. You gather sections of her hair, carefully styling it the way you like it, always with an eye toward the moment you’ll undo it. She lets you, never questioning your hands.
The first time you did this, you weren’t sure what to expect. It felt intimate—too intimate. Yet, when you brushed your fingers through her hair, you realized just how human she could be. It was an act of care, and something about her letting you do it spoke volumes. Ambessa, who commands armies, who runs Noxus with a firm hand, submitting to this small act of affection.
Ambessa shifts slightly, one of her strong hands resting on your thigh, fingers curling lightly, as if to anchor herself in this moment. The contrast between the weight of her touch and the tenderness in the way she allows you to handle her hair is striking, and you can’t help but smile to yourself.
“I never thought I’d be in a position to trust anyone with something so
 trivial,” Ambessa murmurs, her voice barely a whisper, but her words weigh heavily in the air. “But you,” she pauses, her breath steadying, “you’ve found a way.”
You pause, your fingers stilling for a brief moment, feeling the pulse of her breath beneath your touch. There’s something almost sacred about this moment, something you both know but neither of you speak aloud. Trust. Vulnerability. It’s a rare thing in the world of power she inhabits, and yet here she is, letting you care for her in this simple, quiet way.
It doesn’t escape you how different she is when she’s with you, how much more human, how much more like the woman you’ve come to love. A woman who isn’t just a warlord or a general, but someone who can relax in your presence, allow herself to be touched without the weight of expectations.
You resume your work, weaving another section of hair through your fingers, shaping it and twisting it gently. It’s almost a game at this point—styling her hair and taking it out again, a cycle that’s as soothing to you as it seems to be to her.
“Why do you like it?” Ambessa asks suddenly, her tone still soft but curious. Her voice holds an edge of something—something deeper than her usual tactician’s precision.
You smile, your fingers catching a stray lock of hair and carefully smoothing it back into place. “I like the way it feels,” you say, your voice low and unhurried. “I like how it looks when it’s styled, but I like undoing it, too. It’s
 comforting, I suppose. To touch you in a way that doesn’t demand anything.”
Ambessa is quiet for a moment, and you feel her muscles, once stiff and tense, gradually soften beneath your hands. When she speaks again, her voice is quieter than before, touched with something rare—vulnerability.
“I didn’t think I could let anyone in like this,” she admits, her fingers tightening slightly on your thigh. “I’ve spent so long keeping others at arm’s length.”
“I know,” you reply softly, not needing to explain. She has always been a fortress, and perhaps that’s part of why you love her so much—the complexity of the woman who holds the world in her hands but, with you, lets it go, if only for a little while.
You twist her hair into another small braid, each movement slow, deliberate, mindful of the way she reacts to your touch. Her breathing has evened out, a sign that she’s not only relaxed but letting herself be cared for.
You finish the braid, pulling it gently through her fingers, watching as she examines it. She turns her head slightly, peering into the reflection in the polished metal of a nearby desk. Her eyes narrow as she inspects the work, the edges of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“It’s
 fine,” she says after a beat, her voice soft but laced with approval.
You laugh quietly, brushing your fingers over the braid one more time. “Fine, huh? Well, I think it looks good.”
Ambessa’s lips curl into a faint, knowing smile. “You always think the best of your work.”
You nod, pleased by her rare acknowledgment, but then you let your fingers fall through the braid, undoing the delicate strands, letting the lock of hair fall loose once again.
Ambessa watches you, unbothered by the undone work, a sense of ease settling into her posture. It’s as if the act of letting you touch her hair and undo what you’ve done is as much a part of the ritual as anything else.
“You know,” she says, her tone shifting back to something teasing, “you could do this forever, and I’d still find a way to let you. I don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse, but I’m starting to think it’s both.”
You laugh again, the sound light and easy. There’s a comfort in it, a softness that you haven’t seen from her very often. She’s a woman of power, of wars and strategy, but with you, in these moments, she lets herself be something else.
And for you, that’s enough. That’s everything.
As you run your fingers through her hair once more, styling and undoing, she leans back into you, a quiet contentment radiating from her. The rest of the world could be falling apart, but in this moment, it doesn’t matter.
Ambessa Medarda is yours, in a way that few can claim. Strong, untouchable, but here, in your arms, she is something else. Vulnerable. Trusting. And utterly, profoundly yours.
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gdinthehouseee · 3 days ago
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Neon Secrets: KWON JI-YONG x READER
summary: ji-yong catches you getting in your own head so he decides to shake things up and bring you along for a much needed late-night drive
word count: 5180
tags: fluff, denial, idiots in love - everyone can see it but them type stuff
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All was silent in the rooftop practice room, save for the soft scratching of a charcoal pencil against paper. You sat curled up on the couch near the window, your notebook balanced on your knee, fingers gripping the pencil tightly. But the page in front of you remained mostly blank—just a few scratched-out lines and half-finished rhymes that didn’t feel right.
Sleep couldn’t seem to get a hold of you tonight—your mind raced with the same thoughts, replaying them over and over until they became a blur of frustration. You stared at the clock, wishing for a few hours of peace, but the ticking echoed in your ears, only adding to your agitation. 
The quiet hum of the building surrounded you, but inside your mind, chaos churned. The notebook’s blank pages mocking your every attempt to find the right words. Your thoughts were too scattered—too many ideas, too many emotions—but none of them seemed to come together. The pressure to create something meaningful weighed heavily on you, and the longer you sat there, the more frustrated you became. Naturally. You hated this feeling of being stuck, of not being able to tap into the creative flow that usually came so naturally. You had written countless lyrics before, but tonight, nothing felt right. Every word you jotted down felt forced, out of place, as if the inspiration you once had was slipping away. The longer you tried, the more you doubted yourself. What if you were losing your touch? What if your career was over before it truly had time to blossom?
"You look miserable."
You jumped slightly at the voice, snapping your head toward the doorway. Ji-yong leaned against the frame, his arms crossed and his dark eyes almost staring into your soul.
Your heart pounded, and not just because he’d startled you. "Keep your voice down," you hissed and motioned for him to come in, glancing toward the hallway. "People are sleeping."
He scoffed but lowered his voice as he stepped inside. "Relax, it’s just us up here. Unless you think someone’s hiding in the storage closet, waiting to snitch on you."
As much as you rolled your eyes, there was nothing you could do to hide the subtle smile forming on your lips. Hoping he didn’t see, you elected to return your gaze to the notebook. "What do you want?"
Ji-yong flopped onto the couch behind you. "To rescue you from whatever creative hell you’re stuck in." He glanced at the page over your shoulder, tilting his head. "Writer’s block?"
A long sigh escaped your throat. "More like ‘everything I write sounds terrible.’ I should just go to bed and try again tomorrow, but I can’t even do that for whatever reason, so I’m just kinda
 stuck here, I guess.”
He was quiet for a second before drumming his fingers against the couch. "Or
"
"Or?"
"We sneak out."
You stiffened for a second, before turning around to face him. Only to realise he had leaned closer towards you. 
"You’re insane. You know everyone is asleep in the next room, right? And most of the staff? One wrong move and—"
Ji-yong held up his hands in mock surrender. "I get it, I get it. But that’s what makes it fun." A playful smile tugged on his lips. "Come on. You’re stuck, I’m bored, and the walls in this place are suffocating right now. Let’s get some air."
You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. This was stupid. Reckless. If anyone saw you, rumours would spread like wildfire. But at the same time
 the idea of slipping away, of leaving all the pressure behind, if only for a little while—
"Fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you." You quickly stood up, moving towards the door. You didn’t even bother closing the notebook or tucking the chair back under the desk. A dangerous move.
Ji-yong grinned even wider than before, already on his feet. "Deal."
He reached the door before you could, grabbed the handle and opened it for you to walk through, his typical mischievous grin never leaving his face. “Ladies first.” 
“Such a gentleman.” You quipped and walked through, not after checking the hallway first of course.
And just like that, the two of you were sneaking through the hallways, hearts racing with every quiet step.
The tension in the air was palpable as the two of you stood in the hallway, the soft sounds of your footsteps echoing against the polished floor. Ji-yong’s eyes were gleaming with excitement. 
"You sure you're up for this?" He whispered, glancing around as if expecting someone to appear out of nowhere.
You hesitated, your gaze flicking nervously to the security cameras overhead. The building was still buzzing with activity, but most of the staff would be asleep by now. Still, the thought of getting caught was enough to make your heart race. "This is risky," you muttered, trying to stay calm. "If we get caught, we're in trouble."
He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing against hers as he took a step closer. "That's what makes it fun," he said with a wink. You’d be lying if you didn’t find it attractive. Unfortunately for you, he was incredibly charming.
"Come on, I know the way."
The two of you moved quickly but quietly, sticking close to the walls to avoid being seen. The dim lighting in the hallways made it harder to spot you both, and every sound seemed amplified as you tiptoed past the security desk. The guard was hunched over, lost in the glow of his phone screen, completely unaware of the two figures sneaking past. Your pulse quickened as you tried to cover up your breathing as much as you could, but Ji-yong kept a steady pace, signalling you to stay low as you made your way toward the exit.
As you neared the door, Ji-yong reached for the handle, his hand steady despite the adrenaline coursing through them. He glanced at you one last time, a playful smile tugging at his lips once more. "Ready?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
You nodded, biting back a grin. "Just don’t get us caught."
“You know I won’t.”
With one final look around, he pushed the door open, and you slipped into the cool night air, your hearts still racing but filled with the thrill of your daring escape. The moment you had stepped through the exit and carefully closed the door behind you, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a sprint toward the car parked just down the street. The night air was crisp against the mostly bare skin of your arms and legs, the sound of your hurried footsteps filled the silence. Neither of you spoke—just the occasional glance over your shoulders to truly make sure no one had followed, accidentally making eye contact here and there.
Ji-yong reached the car first, fumbling with his keys as he yanked the door open. “Hurry,” he hissed, motioning for you to get in. You certainly didn’t need to be told twice. You practically dove into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind you just as he did the same on his side. For a moment, you both sat there, frozen, chests rising and falling with quick, uneven breaths. The street outside was quiet, undisturbed. You made it.
And then, as if on cue, you turned to each other, eyes wide with the weight of what you had just pulled off.
Silence.
Then—laughter.
It started as a breathless chuckle from Ji-yong, but the absurdity of the situation caught up with both of you, and soon enough, you were doubled over, shoulders shaking with uncontrollable laughter. You pressed an ice-cold hand to your burning face, gasping for air between giggles. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
He leaned back against the headrest, grinning as he ran a hand through his hair. “I know, right? That was way too close.” He turned to look at you again, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You looked so scared back there.”
“Excuse me?” You began, “I was being cautious. Someone has to be the responsible one here.”
“And yet, here you are, sneaking out in the middle of the night with me.”
You rolled your eyes but, once again, couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips and the blood rushing to your cheeks. The adrenaline still buzzed in your veins, mixing with the warmth of the moment. Ji-yong shifted in his seat, tilting his head slightly as he studied you for a moment. His laughter had faded, but his expression softened, something unreadable flickering across his face before briefly looking away.
The laughter had faded, but the buzz of excitement still lingered in the air. He tapped his fingers absent-mindedly against the steering wheel. “So,” he said, glancing over at you. “Where to? Or was the plan just to run away with nowhere to go?”
You hummed, thinking for a moment, leaning back in your seat as you gazed out the window. “Honestly? I didn’t think we’d make it this far.”
That made him chuckle. “Wow. Such faith in us.”
“I’m just saying, the odds weren’t exactly in our favour. But I guess you do have a way of getting people to do reckless things.”
“People?”
“Me. Specifically me.” You laughed.
His grin never left his face as he started the car, the soft rumble filling the quiet space. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
You sat in comfortable silence for a while, the city lights flickering outside the windows, casting moving shadows across your faces. The world beyond the car felt distant, like a dream you were slipping through unnoticed. It was rare—to have a moment like this, away from expectations, away from the prying eyes of fans, staff, and friends alike.
Ji-yong snuck a glance at you when you weren’t looking. You were tracing patterns on your arm, brows slightly furrowed in thought. He wondered what was on your mind. He wondered if you had any idea how often he caught himself watching you like this—memorizing the way your eyes softened when you were deep in thought, the way you pressed your lips together when you were frustrated.
And if you knew, what would you think about the way Seunghyun, Taeyang, and Daesung teased him for it?
Ji-yong could still hear them now—Taeyang shaking his head with an amused smirk, Daesung’s knowing glances, and Seunghyun’s relentless, dramatic sighs. Just confess already, you’re embarrassing yourself. They never let him live it down, always pointing out the way his attention lingered a little too long, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you, the way he always found an excuse to be around you. And as much as he brushed them off, he knew they weren’t wrong. The thought made his ears burn.
It had started one evening in the studio. Ji-yong had been half-listening to a new beat, scrolling through his phone when Seunghyun leaned over his shoulder with a loud, exaggerated sigh.
“Hyung,” Ji-yong muttered without looking up, already knowing what was coming.
“What is this?” Seunghyun said dramatically, tapping the screen of Ji-yong’s phone. “You’re literally smiling at your messages right now. Are you in high school?”
Ji-yong scoffed and pulled his phone away, locking it. “Mind your business.”
Daesung, sprawled out on the couch, grinned. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
Taeyang let out a knowing chuckle from his spot near the desk, looking up from his own phone. “It’s always her.”
Seunghyun wasn’t letting this go. He leaned in closer, studying Ji-yong’s face. “Look at him. He’s already getting defensive. Next, he’s gonna say she’s just a friend—”
“But she is just a friend,” Ji-yong cut in quickly. Too quickly.
The room went silent for about half a second before all three of them burst out laughing.
“Ohhh, this is bad,” Taeyang teased, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen Ji-yong lie so poorly in my life.”
Daesung grinned, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Bro, you don’t even talk about your crushes, but you think we haven’t noticed how different you act around her?”
“Different how?” Ji-yong challenged, crossing his arms.
“You get all
 soft.”
Ji-yong rolled his eyes. “I do not get soft.”
“You do,” Taeyang confirmed. “Like earlier today, when she came by to drop off something for the manager? You barely spoke, but the second she left, you smiled to yourself like some lovesick teenager.”
“I—” Ji-yong stopped, trying to come up with a defence, but all three of them were already grinning at him. Busted.
Seunghyun clapped him on the back with a knowing look. “You’re screwed, bro.”
Ji-yong swallowed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. No. That was the last thing he needed. If you ever heard them talk like that, would you laugh? Would you tease him too? Or worse—would you start noticing the way he looked at you? The way he felt? And, as a result, would you distance yourself from him?
He had never planned for this—to care this much.
At first, it had been simple: late-night studio sessions, teasing exchanges, fleeting moments that he told himself meant nothing. But then he started noticing the way you made the air feel lighter, the way being around you felt like a break from the noise of everything else. And now, sitting here with you, watching the city pass by in the glow of streetlights, he realized he had been in trouble for a while.
Eventually, he spoke, his voice quieter than before. “So
 what were you writing earlier?”
“A whole lot of nothing. Or
 trying to write something, but nothing came out right.”
He glanced at her. “Typical writer’s block.”
“Feels more like an identity crisis,” you muttered, half-joking. “I don’t know. I just kept overthinking everything. Like
 what if I don’t have anything meaningful to say anymore?”
He frowned at that, his grip tightening slightly on the wheel. “That’s not true. You always have something to say.”
You let out a small laugh, though there wasn’t much humour in it. “You sound so sure.”
“Because I am,” he said, glancing at you again before turning back to the road. “You’re one of the most passionate people I know. Even when you don’t say anything, you’re thinking—feeling. That’s what makes you good.” His voice was steady, sure. “You just don’t see yourself the way I do.”
Your breath hitched slightly at his words.
He must have realized what he said, because his fingers drummed nervously against the wheel, and he cleared his throat. “I mean—uh, the way people who know you do.”
For a moment, you just stared at him, watching as he kept his eyes firmly on the road, as if avoiding your gaze would erase what had just slipped out. A warmth bloomed in your chest.
“Ji-yong.”
He shook his head quickly, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you just figured something out.”
You tilted her head slightly, as if considering. “Maybe I did.”
He groaned, quickly running a hand through his hair. “This is why I don’t say things.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, but there was no denying the way your heart was now racing for an entirely different reason. Trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, you decided to change the subject when you realised he hadn’t explained why he was awake when he found you.
“Y’know, you never said why you were up so late.”
Ji-yong blinked, as if caught off guard. “Ah
 I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Why? Is your reason dumber than mine?”
“No, just
” He hesitated before sighing. “Not that interesting.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“I just couldn’t sleep.”
“Why?”
He hesitated again, longer this time, before answering. “Because my brain is a pain in the ass.”
That made you pause. “What do you mean?”
He let out a short, quiet laugh, but there was no humour in it. “I think too much. About everything. I’ll be exhausted, lying in bed, and suddenly my brain decides it’s time to overanalyse every stupid thing I’ve ever said, every choice I’ve ever made, every possible way I could screw something up.” He exhaled sharply. “It’s like I can never just
 be.”
“You mean like anxiety?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s not like I panic, I just—” He sighed, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “I second-guess myself a lot. Get stuck in my own head. It’s frustrating because I know it’s dumb, but I can’t turn it off.”
Something about the way he said it—the exhaustion behind his words—made your chest tighten.
“Why didn’t you just say this earlier?” you asked softly. The car came to a stop as you reached a red light.
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Because I didn’t want to make it about me. You already seemed frustrated.”
“That’s stupid,” you said without thinking.
Ji-yong finally turned to you, caught between amusement and exasperation. “Excuse me?”
“You do it all the time,” you said, shaking your head. “You act like you have to be the one keeping everyone else together, but who’s doing that for you?”
His lips parted slightly, as if he hadn’t expected the question. His fingers drummed idly on the wheel, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. But then, in a voice quieter than before, he said:
“You.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
Ji-yong let out a small, almost self-deprecating laugh. “You don’t even realize it, do you?”
You swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of the way the air in the car felt different—thicker, heavier. “Realize what?”
He glanced at you again, something unreadable in his gaze. He looked like he wanted to say something else, something more, but instead, he just shook his head with a small smile. The traffic light finally turned green and he continued driving.
“Nothing,” he muttered. “Forget I said anything.”
But you wouldn’t forget. Not now. Not when the weight of his words settled deep into your chest, shifting something inside you that you weren’t sure you were ready to face yet. And judging by the way Ji-yong gripped the wheel like his life depended on it, staring straight ahead, neither was he.
At some point, the heavy weight of the conversation had lifted, giving way to laughter and much lighter topics. The city stretched out around you, a blur of neon signs and empty streets as Ji-yong drove aimlessly, neither of you wanting to break the spell of the night just yet.
The two of you talked about ridiculous things—the worst stage outfits you’d ever worn, the most embarrassing moments caught on camera, the weirdest fan gifts he had ever received. He nearly swerved when he burst out laughing at your dramatic re-enactment of a failed dance move during rehearsal, and you doubled over when he confessed to once getting trapped in a bathroom before a concert and having to be rescued by the rest of the guys and a few staff members.
The car was filled with easy conversation, the kind that only came when time didn’t seem to matter. But time did matter. And neither of you realized just how much until Ji-yong absently checked the dashboard clock.
“Shit.”
“What?” You turned to him, still grinning from your last joke.
He gestured toward the clock. 4:32 AM.
Your stomach dropped. “No way.”
He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “We are so screwed.”
It took a second for the panic to fully settle in, but when it did, it was instant. You sat up straight, suddenly wide awake. “We have to get back now.”
He was already turning the car around, the easy-going vibe of the night replaced with frantic energy. “We better pray no one’s up yet.”
Your heart pounded as you mentally mapped out the best way to sneak back in, every possibility of getting caught flashing through your head. Staff members were early risers, and some of your groupmates tended to wake up for morning workouts. If even one person saw you—
“We can’t go through the front,” you said quickly. “There’s a security camera right at the entrance.”
Ji-yong nodded. “Back door. Less cameras, but we have to be fast.”
You could already imagine the absolute chaos if either of your groups or, worse, the company found out about this. You and Ji-yong locked eyes, truly realizing at the same time just how risky this had been.
Then, for some reason—maybe from sheer exhaustion, maybe from the ridiculousness of the situation—you both started laughing. Quiet at first, then full-on, uncontrollable laughter just like at the very beginning of this little side quest.
“This is so bad,” he shook his head.
You wiped the happy tears that were forming in your eyes. “If we survive this, we’re never doing this again.”
That was a lie. You both knew it.
And as the car sped through the empty streets, the first hints of morning light creeping onto the horizon, you knew this night—this feeling—was one neither of you would forget. By the time you had pulled into the parking lot, the sky had started to shift from deep navy to the softest hints of morning blue. Every second that passed made the risk of getting caught even worse.
You both moved quickly, slipping out of the car and sticking to the shadows as you made your way to the back entrance of the building. He pulled open the door as quietly as possible, wincing at the soft creak of the hinges.
“Go, go, go,” you whispered, pushing him inside.
The hallway was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made every tiny sound feel deafening. You pressed your back against the wall, Ji-yong right next to you as you both listened for any sign of movement.
Nothing.
You exchanged a glance, and without a word, started moving.
The first challenge was the stairwell—safer than the elevators, but the risk of running into someone was still high. He went first, taking the steps two at a time, while you followed as quickly and quietly as possible. Every creak of the stairs made your pulse spike.
Halfway up, you heard a noise—a distant door closing somewhere above you. You both froze.
Ji-yong grabbed your wrist and pulled you down into a crouch against the railing, barely breathing. You squeezed your eyes shut, silently praying whoever it was wasn’t coming down the stairs. The footsteps paused, then faded away in the opposite direction.
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
Ji-yong turned to you, eyes wide. “That was too close,” he mouthed.
You nodded frantically, your heart still hammering.
The two of you moved again, finally reaching your floor. Ji-yong peeked down the hallway before gesturing for you to follow. Your dorms were now just a few doors away, and you could practically feel freedom within reach.
You made it to the door first, pressing a hand against it for stability as you exhaled. Ji-yong stopped next to you, running a hand through his hair, a tired but exhilarated grin tugging at his lips.
“We actually made it,” you whispered.
He smirked. “You doubted me?”
You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, Ji-yong opened the door. As you stepped inside, you immediately realized you weren’t alone. The familiar voices of Taeyang and Daesung were already drifting through the room, and the instant you both walked in, the entire space fell silent.
The kitchen lights flickered overhead as you and Ji-yong froze. There, sitting casually in the lounge area, were the familiar faces of your group and his—Seunghyun leaning against the counter, a couple girls from your own group scattered around the couches, and Daesung and Taeyang, clearly wide awake.
You couldn’t even hide. You hadn’t even stepped inside before they all turned toward you.
“Well, well, well
” Taeyang’s voice rang through the silence, a grin tugging at his lips. “Look who decided to join us at five in the morning.”
Ji-yong cleared his throat, taking a step back, trying to play it cool, but his eyes flicked toward you, silently pleading for a way out. “We
 just went for a walk.”
Seunghyun raised an eyebrow from where he stood, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “A walk?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but you couldn’t find any words. The guilt, the tension, the fact that everyone was wide awake and clearly waiting for you two to walk in made it impossible to lie.
“You two are really bad at hiding,” Daesung chuckled from his seat on the couch. “Did you think no one would notice?”
Ji-yong rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, giving you a small, apologetic smile. “We didn’t exactly plan on getting caught.”
“Oh, but you were planning on sneaking in here, right?” One of the girls from your group smirked from the kitchen counter. “Because it’s not like we’re all waiting in here for you to walk in.”
Taeyang folded his arms, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You really thought you could just walk in and slip by us, huh?”
You let out a long sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that there was no escape now. “I guess we’re busted.”
Ji-yong leaned against the doorframe, shrugging with a small smile. “Guess so.”
Seunghyun leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as he studied you both. “So, what exactly were you two talking about?”
You froze, unsure of how to answer. Ji-yong shifted next to you, glancing down at his shoes nervously.
“Oh, you know,” he said with an awkward chuckle, “just random stuff.”
Seunghyun snorted, clearly not buying it. “Random stuff, huh?” He shot you a look that you could read too easily. “I’m sure it was really random.”
“I bet it was super interesting,” Taeyang added with a raised eyebrow. “Just you two, talking the whole night away. So what was the real topic of conversation?”
You felt your cheeks heat up as you avoided their gazes. “Nothing important,” you muttered, hoping to avoid the topic.
Seunghyun grinned from his spot, clearly enjoying every second. “Oh, we know it wasn’t nothing important.” He exchanged a knowing glance with Daesung, and the teasing only grew stronger. “In fact, I’d say it was pretty obvious.”
Taeyang tilted his head, glancing at Ji-yong with a knowing smirk. “Yeah, because you two are definitely good at hiding it.”
“Hiding what?” You shot back, trying to sound nonchalant, but your voice faltered slightly.
Ji-yong quickly cleared his throat, standing up straighter. “We’re just really good friends,” he insisted, his voice a little sharper than before, as if to convince not just them but himself too. He gave a small, forced smile. “Nothing more than that.”
Seunghyun raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Mm-hmm. Just friends? Sure.”
“Not this again,” Daesung laughed mostly to himself. Again? What did he mean by again?
“You guys are ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, trying to downplay the awkward tension growing between you and Ji-yong.
“Well, we’re not the only ones who think it’s pretty clear,” one of the girls from your group said with a knowing grin. “But if you insist
”
Ji-yong rubbed the back of his neck again, his smile faltering. “I mean it. We’re just friends. It’s not that deep.”
Seunghyun looked at you both for a long moment, still not convinced. “Sure, Ji-yong. You’re just friends,” he said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “But I’m telling you, it’s pretty obvious to all of us.”
“You’re really good at pretending,” Taeyang said, eyes twinkling with amusement.
You quickly changed the subject, desperate to get away from this conversation. “Well, we didn’t exactly plan on getting caught by everyone in the kitchen.”
“I mean, it’s not like you tried very hard to hide it,” Daesung said, unable to keep his chuckle to himself. “You two always look like you’re in your own little world.”
Ji-yong sighed, a bit of frustration leaking into his voice. “Can we not make this a thing?” He shot a glance at you, but you weren’t sure what he was thinking—was he upset with the teasing, or was he frustrated about something else?
Seunghyun raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Alright, alright, we’ll drop it for now. But you know we’re not buying the ‘just friends’ act.”
You quickly turned toward your room, eager to escape the conversation. “Guess we’ll work on pretending better next time.”
Ji-yong followed suit, offering a quiet laugh, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure we’ll do better,” he said, his voice lacking his usual confidence.
As you slipped into your room, heart still racing from the teasing, you exhaled slowly, trying to shake the feeling lingering in your chest. It was ridiculous, really. Ji-yong was Ji-yong. One of the most sought-after idols in the industry, effortlessly charismatic, always surrounded by people who adored him. There was no way he’d look at you like that. You were just his friend—one of the few people he could relax around without the weight of expectations. And maybe that was why it stung a little. Because no matter how much your heart stuttered when he looked at you, you were certain he didn’t see you the same way.
Ji-yong barely mumbled, just out of earshot from you, before slipping into his own room, shutting the door behind him a little too quickly. He let out a quiet breath, leaning against it for a moment, rubbing his face with both hands. Why did it bother him so much? The way the others teased, the way they all acted like something between you two was so obvious. Maybe to them, it was. But to Ji-yong, it wasn’t even a possibility. You had never once looked at him like that, not in the way he caught himself looking at you. And why would you?
He sighed, pushing off the door and running a hand through his hair before collapsing onto his bed. You deserve someone better—someone who wasn’t always stuck in his own head, someone who wouldn’t second-guess everything the way he did. Someone who wasn’t him.
And so, just like every other night where his thoughts threatened to betray him, he shut them down before they could get any further. Because if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that whatever he felt for you
 it wasn’t something you’d ever return. If only he knew this is exactly what you were thinking about him, just on the other side of the wall. So close yet so far.
But that would be the least of both of your problems when you finally found out that a video of you and Ji-yong, with your hands intertwined, running to the car had gone viral. 
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taglist (lmk if you'd like to be added!!):
@thanosscross
142 notes · View notes
respectthepetty · 3 days ago
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I really love that Wa and Yotha are good exes to each other now that they are in other relationships fifteen episodes into Perfect 10 Liners. And I love that they keep talking under the "Don't text your ex" sign.
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Because even though Wa's relationship with Klao has more than its share of problems, they balance each other out. Klao needs someone to save him from himself, and Wa wants to be a savior.
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And Wa couldn't be that person for Yotha. Wa couldn't rescue Yotha all the time. Yotha needed a guy who saw all his darkness and embraced it.
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Sometimes a Black Brooder doesn't need to be saved by a Heavenly Human. Sometimes he simply needs a chill Green Guy to remind him that the world isn't such a dark place.
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And Yotha found that light in Gun.
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Much like Red Rascal Arc realized he could experience happiness every day instead of believing every day was a fight through his love for Yellow Yal Arm.
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And Blue Boy Sand and his elite Mean Girls shirt found the perfect guy to understand him in Orange Oddity Pond.
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Pond makes him breakfast and leaves little orange notes with daily encouragement.
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And Sand loves every second of it!
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So it's time for these color-coded boys in love to follow their seniors into domestic bliss, so now that Yotha has apologized for hurting his Green Guy, all is well.
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Regardless if Faifa likes it or not.
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They could have at least waited until Faifa was pretending to be asleep. The disrespect!
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But our pretty Blue Boy still comes out on top after becoming the newest campus star, and he gets a beautiful crown of flowers for it because he deserves nice things.
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So while his brothers and brother-in-law are about to go through trails and tribulations, Faifa is just going to be enjoying his win.
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And while MY HEART IS BEING RIPPED OUT OF MY BODY, Faifa is going to be celebrating in the bar with his friends.
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AND WHEN YOTHA'S HEART IS BEING RIPPED OUT OF HIS BODY AND BEING SMASHED IN FRONT OF HIS FACE, Faifa will be drinking the night away knowing he is the bestest boy on campus.
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Narrator: Faifa will, in fact, be very pissed off.
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But thank goodness Newton is about that business and decided to bring a gun to a knife fight, so the Jets and Sharks will have to sort out their differences another day.
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(These two are so dramatic and constantly remind me that this is a JittiRain series)
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But, thankfully, Faifa and his "Where there is love, this is life" shirt exit quickly once he sees everyone is okay and notices that Gun is wearing Yotha's black shirt since he knows that shirt isn't going to stay on long now that Yotha is aware of his feelings.
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Gun is pulling a Sally Field right now and is shocked that Yotha actually loves him when all of the signs pointed to Yotha being in love with him, but I love this journey of realization for Gun.
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And now Yotha has to negotiate how many cows he is willing to give Gun's family so he can keep him and Gun's dad said he just needed to pay a utility bill every now and then (probably electricity, am I right?), and he can keep his son for life. I love this for them!
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BUT I DON'T LOVE THIS! Love does not heal trauma, babes! NO! You are not certified to perform exposure therapy! Don't make Gun cry like this. IT HURTS ME!
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*rocking back and forth* I'm going to look at the parents' books about colors and design to calm down. Just leave me here for a second. I'll be fine.
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Now this is more like it. Just be there for him when he wakes him. Comfort him. Love him.
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Be his sunshine in the darkness.
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But do NOT do what you are thinking about doing in his childhood room in his parents' house.
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You know what? Actually, go for it! They deserve this.
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I have a sister to put to bed anyway.
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AYEEE
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rose-in-blue · 1 day ago
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Taste of You
Alastor x reader
Warnings/tags: pretty suggestive, cursing, Alastor being clever aka a bitch, sassy!reader, afab reader, an aggressive amount of parenthesis and commas, apparently I don't know how to write Alastor x reader where Charlie doesn't interrupt at the end
Summary: Alastor left a bunch of hickeys and bite marks on you, and you're not happy about them being visible. His solution? Leave a few more.
1191 words
A/n: for refrence, I was inspired by this youtube short
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You descended down the stairs to the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, all eyes on you. They might have been looking at your intricate updo, or perhaps your elegant makeup, or maybe even your stunning red dress. 
You doubt that, though. More likely, they were all staring at the purple-and-red hickeys and bite marks that peeked out from behind your hair and lay on full display on the exposed part of your neck and chest. Courtesy of Alastor, of course.
Though he stared at you, you didn’t look at him— instead, taking in the dancers and partiers of Charlie’s classy ball. You’d been keeping your relationship with the Radio Demon a secret (though, after tonight, it wouldn’t be a surprise if everyone knew).
At the bottom of the stairs, you look around, bashfully taking in everyone’s reactions— Angel, smirking; Husk, concerned; Charlie and Vaggie, nowhere to be seen; and Nifty, who didn’t seem to notice. You ignored Angel (now making suggestive hand gestures from across the room), and took your place standing next to Alastor, who was watching the dancing. He glanced down at you, grin growing wider.
“Evening, dear.”
“Alastor.” You refused to give him any more than that.
“You look nice,” he commented.
“Fuck you,” you spat.
“Oh, you did, sweetheart, and such an excellent job, too!” Alastor was clearly in a good mood, happy to irk you. “If I recall, that was how you got such
 gorgeous marks.” His voice, now sultry, had lowered an octave.
You blushed, then scoffed. “I’d hardly call them gorgeous.”
Alastor, apparently, took that as a challenge to his vocabulary. “No? How about
 tantalizing, then?” When he wasn’t rewarded with a smile from you, he continued. “Ravishing? Stunning? Enticing?”
You just rolled your eyes, not in the mood.
Alastor almost frowned. “Remarkable? Marvelous? Breathtaking? Thrilling?”
Obviously, Alastor didn’t seem to get the fact that you were irritated by the marks, not looking for the perfect word to describe them. He continued, “Attractive? Comely? Pe—” 
At that, you cut him off. “No! Just dark marks that will bruise and stay here for weeks that I can’t cover with makeup that will embarrass me every time I see another person. Is there a word for that, Alastor?! Hmm?!”
Surprised at your outburst, he chuckled. “Well, well! Someone’s pissy!”
You were so done with him. “Well, maybe I’m pissy because someone left giant hickeys and bite marks on my neck the night before Charlie’s big dance!” you not-so-subtly hinted, eyes never leaving the dance floor.
You could see Alastor grinning out of the corner of your eye. The fucker is proud of himself! you thought.
Alastor was, indeed, proud of himself. Again (but louder this time), he remarked, “Don’t blame me, darling. You seemed to enjoy getting them.”
You blushed. People had definitely heard that, and they knew it was aimed at you even though you still hadn’t looked him in his eyes. Quietly, some sinners began remarking among each other things that you couldn’t really make out.
“Alastor!” you hissed.
“Mhm, yes, dear?”
You finally looked at him. A large smirk played across his face, obviously not caring what the low-lifes around him thought. In fact, he seemed to like the fact that they made you uncomfortable. “Honestly, sweetheart, I’m surprised at you! You seem to have no shame whatsoever in my bedroom last night, yet now
”
You let out a small squeak, face crimson, as you smacked his arm. “Alastor! Seriously!” you reprimand under your breath.
He glanced around, as if just now noticing the people staring. Voice lowered, he queried, “Ashamed, darling? Would you perhaps prefer to continue
 in private?” 
Subtly nodding, you agreed. “Very much so.”
Alastor's smile widened. “But of course!” Grabbing your arm in one hand and his staff in the other, he waltzed you up the stairs to the first floor hallway, making his way to your room. After you were long out of sight of the guests, he turned on you, pinning you to the wall. Head lowered, he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. “Oh, ma chĂ©rie, ma vie, mon cƓur. Tu es, Ă  toi seule, la plus belle femme sur laquelle j'ai jamais posĂ© les yeux. Je ne veux rien d'autre que t'aimer, te serrer dans mes bras, ne jamais te lĂącher
” he murmured.
You had no fucking idea what he was saying, but it seemed romantic (and probably something too sappy for him to say in Engish).
His hands trailed up and down your body, head buried in your neck. You whined as his mouth locked onto the skin just below your ear. Pressing himself into you, Alastor let out a small growl as his kissing grew more fervent. You gasped, arching your back so that your torso crashed into his. One of his arms came to rest on the wall near your face, cageing you in, while the other drifted down— past the lumps of your breasts, past your stomach, past everything until it reached the hem of your skirt.
“It’s a real shame you wore such
 revealing clothing tonight,” Alastor whispered, lips still on your neck, surely having left another hickey.
You rolled your eyes at that— you didn’t really think that a neckline that barely showed your collarbones and a skirt hem that almost reached your knees was revealing, but Alastor apparently did. “Oh, really, Al? And why is that?” you wondered.
He chuckled, hand sliding farther up under your skirt, reaching your midthigh. “We’re in Hell, dear. Don’t you think that some
h̞͓͙̟͆̀u̶̧̟̫͕̍͐̎̊n̶̘͍͇̏gÌ”Í˜ÌŻÌŠÌšr͚͉̔̈́̌y̷͇̅́̀...sinner might want a taste for what you have to offer?” At the word hungry, his eyes flashed into radio dials as his hand reached your inner thigh.
Satan, you sure hoped he was that horny hungry sinner. “I don’t know, Alastor. Maybe I wanted that hungry sinner to take a taste of me.”
“Mhmmm
 maybe he will.” Alastor bit down on your neck as his hand finally, finally reached its destination. You gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure, until it all started to fade into the second one. 
“‘Maybe’?” you quoted.
He chuckled, mouth still against your neck, fingers slowly moving under your skirt. “Maybe
” he repeated, “maybe if you’re a good girl and you promise not to be upset about the marks I leave. Can you do that, dear? Can you be a good little slut and enjoy them?”
You never took Alastor for one who was into dirty talk, but you weren’t complaining.
“Yes, Alastor,” you breathed. “Anything for you.”
“Good girl,” he grinned, fingers starting to push your panties aside. 
Before he could get any farther, though, Charlie came running up the stairs and into the hall. 
“Hey guys I saw you left the party and OHMYFUCKIMSOSORRYIMGOINGNOW—” she screamed, retreating. 
Alastor looked back at you, still grinning. “Shall we continue this up in my room?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” you smiled.
“But only if
?” he leaned closer, hand coming out from under your skirt.
Desperate for the contact you had lost, you murmured, “Only if I don’t make a fuss about the marks, yes, I promise, Alastor!”
He smiled impossibly wider. “Lovely.”
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lilgarbitch · 2 days ago
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For Better Or For Worse - Noah Sebastian
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Beside You Pt. 2
Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader
CW: more angst<3
Word Count: 1.2k
Author’s Note: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Tags: @theanarchymuse95 @dontwantthemoney @chey-h @badomensgoodomens @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @enemiestolovershoe @blade-dressed-in-red @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @thatchickwiththecamera @tosoundlessdarkistare
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Y/N
It’s been about three years since that day, give or take. All I know is that time has passed and I’ve lost track. Things have changed, yet stayed the exact same. The pain has eased with time, but the love has yet to die. I’m still living in the old house, just changing as much of the interior as I could without feeling like I’ve lost too much. Because what else will be left when the hurt is gone? I now have a bed and sheets that have never touched his skin. A couch that didn’t home one or more of the boys in a time of need. The sad yellowing walls are now a light grey, with no sign of smoke stains or holes from bad decisions. Even I’ve changed. My hair is different, I’ve retired piercings, gotten new tattoos, and even changed my style. Things were different. Yet everytime I glanced into a room, I could see the memories replaying in my head like an old movie. Everytime I see the unclosed hole of my lip piercing, I’m reminded of Noah joining me for a last minute, impulsive decision. Everyday, I debate covering the tattoo that we got together when Nick started apprenticing, but then I see a photo of him on stage, singing with his arm raised, and I see that he still has his too. 
He’s changed too. Not to the point of losing recognition, but enough that I can tell he’s getting healthier out there. His voice has grown, his hair is shorter and choppy, and he’s fit into himself better than he ever has before. I don’t mean to look at pictures of him and the boys, but I could never unfollow their accounts. I could never pretend that my love died that day like they have. It’s an internal battle everytime I see him, debating if him leaving me behind was really what he needed to do.
But I know it wasn’t. Because in the days where I really miss him and really want to feel the grief of the past, I listen to their new music. It’s not hard to understand where the lyrics come from. I’ve known Noah for too long to ignore how he portrays his emotion through his music. But what I don’t understand is why. Why sing of regret? Why put yourself through all of this pain and misery when we could have lived a different way? Every time his voice rings through my home, all I can ask is would you have been there when I came home? Could you not have held on to another day, just for us to be together? I could have easily joined you in your journey, nothing else more important to me than you, so why make the decision for me? Especially when all it resulted in was the two of us living in regret? 
His regret being leaving. Of stupidly deciding that I was better off without him, even after years of me trying to prove that nothing could be worse than not having him by my side. Our lives may have never stopped that day, but I know, at least for me, that my will to try and make life worth living was gone the second he drove off. 
That leads to my regret. The regret of holding on for so long. To still be holding on. To the hope that one day, things can be okay again. Because I’m terrified. Terrified I’ll never see him again. Terrified that, one day, I’ll accept never seeing him again. Terrified that I won’t be okay again unless he comes back. Terrified that no matter the outcome, I won’t be happy again. And those are the days that I’ve lived for the past few years. In fear of losing someone I already lost. Because there was a day where I allowed him to pull me out of a dark and lonely place, only to allow him to push me back in, and still forgive him in hopes he’ll pull me out again. 
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Noah
The days have become grueling again. I shoved my emotions into lyrics, pouring my rage and guilt into melodies, and it was a simple distraction
until tour started. And every song was another reminder of her. I didn’t even think. I was so focused on using my music as an outlet that I forgot it could bite me in the ass. That I’d be forced to travel back to Virginia, and sing these lyrics under the same sky. One we’d both be staring up at together again. 
I was more than grateful that Sumerian Records was able to get us an opening spot for Attila’s tour, but that meant within a month, I’d be back in Richmond and close to her again. Each night of the tour so far was painful, just counting down the seconds until the next day, because it was another day closer to home. And I don’t mean the home I grew up in, but the person I left behind. 
I had the whole world in my hands, and with one stupid decision, I gave it all away. What did I even think I would save? Life without her has been miserable. I thought I was helping both of us by leaving, but with every free moment I got over the last three years, all I could do was wish it was filled with her presence. I could’ve made it work, I just didn’t want to try. And I knew her long enough to know that she would’ve made it the easiest thing in the world. So this was my burden to take. Because I’m the only one to blame. I kept telling myself that she was so much better off without me. With nothing but the memories of my face. But now I know that, even if she was doing better, I wasn’t. Because I have no use now that she’s gone. 
I have no way of knowing how to deal with this. I knew better than anyone else that the decisions I made ruined things, but I couldn’t handle being back there and not trying. I knew the chances of me absolutely fucking everything up again by simply showing my face, but the risk was worth it. I couldn’t have a chance like this and not take it. I would never be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least see if there was a possibility to have her again. This could either destroy both of us completely, or finally be a second chance at being happy again. I had to take it. I had to do this, because I was running out of faith. 
TO BE CONTINUED
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annefolklore · 3 days ago
Text
Choose me
Kang Dae Ho x Reader
- Content: Fluff, jealousy, Angst/comfort, smut, oral (both), fingering, p in v, a bit of femdom, a bit of Dae Ho dom if you squint, swallowing cum, hickey, breathplay if you squint, squirt
- Note: it’s a bit canon divergent at some point bcuz there’s no fight in the bathrooms and rebellion against the guards. Also, I know 333 was the one to play Jegi in squid game but let’s pretend he played something else okay. Last, there are some links in this fic so whenever there are words underlined, click on it it’s a link. (There are porn link at some point)
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Having joined the games to pay off your dept of 4 million dollars, you were more than ready to leave after the first game with your share of the money. 24k was more than enough for you and you valued your life more than to stay in an environment like that.
You met a kind (and handsome) man during the first game called Kang Dae-Ho. You hid behind him, doing what the man shouted throughout the first game. He had squeezed one of your hands as he felt them slightly shake as they clung to his jacket and you sighed in relief when you finally passed the finish line behind the doll.
From then on, Dae-Ho and you were attached to the hip. He shares his food with you, his bed is right beneath yours and he said he wants to see you when you both get out of the game. Even though you’ve known each other for a bit more than 24 hours, he just felt drawn to you in every way possible. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, how couldn’t he like you when you’re everything he could wish for? Yeah, maybe it’s dumb to have a crush in a deadly game where one of you could be killed anytime, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
You were already in a group of 5 for the second game, when a girl approached you guys asking for help because she was pregnant. You didn’t hesitate to give her your spot, under the sad eyes of Dae-Ho.
You gave a small smile to your team and you all cheered yourselves up by saying you’ll see each other again soon, and you walked away. Dae-Ho couldn’t help himself but to feel a bit angry at Jun-hee, there were other people who haven’t formed teams yet, so why would she come here? But he quickly brushed off his feelings, she’s pregnant and Gi-Hun played those games before so of course she wanted to stay alive for the baby by coming here!
His heart raced when it was your team’s turn. This time, he couldn’t be close to you during the game and he felt powerless knowing he wouldn’t be able to help you. He could only sit there like everyone else and pray that you make it. You were responsible to play spinning top, the last game, but you were struggling and there was only 35 seconds left.
One of the players, 333, put his hand on your shoulder and said “Come on, I know you can do it”. You took a deep breath as you tried again, trying to stop the shaking of your hands.
Everyone cheered as the toy spinned on the ground and your team quickly walked to jegi, where 333 nailed it on the first try.
You finally made it to the finish line with only 3 seconds left and didn’t have time to cheer up before loud gunshots exploded through the air. The team against yours was now laying dead on the ground.
Player 333 hugged and congratulated you as the guards guided your team away.
At least someone else was with you, he thought.
His motivation through it all was you and his hand moved on his own with swift and fast movements as he played gonggi. Dae-Ho’s mind was already imagining you jumping in his arms when he would walk back in the dormitory room.
With a sigh of relief when a guard unlocked his ankles, he left alongside everyone else. When he came back, you were sat on your bed with player 333 with you. You laughed at something he said and noticed Dae-Ho at the same time. You waved you hand at him and went back to your conversation with the guy.
What was his name again? Mung-Gu or something? He didn’t care that much to know, but as he watched you too interact, he understood you. Mung-Gu is more handsome than him, it seemed like he was funnier to be around and he was there for you during the second game. Not like him.
Eventually you came back toward your usual group with them and you all congratulated each other. Like usual, you hung out with Dae-Ho for the rest of the evening, but you had noticed something was wrong with him. He wasn’t smiling like usual, he was more quiet and
well he just seemed down for some reason you couldn’t guess and he wouldn’t tell you.
His jealousy fell immediately as soon as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in a warm hug “I won’t force you to speak, if you don’t want to right now. But I want you to know that you can tell me anything”
His heart melted at your words. You’re so kind, how could he stay in a bad mood when you speak such sweet words to him?
At night, Gi-Hun said to stay close together and that he’ll stay awake to stay aware of the surroundings. You went to Dae-Ho’s bed and asked him if you could stay with him for the night, after being a bit scared at what Gi-Hun said, you didn’t want to be alone. Dae-Ho nodded and scooted over to make some space for you to lay down with your own pillow and cover. He was laying on his side, his back facing you and you hesitated as you laid your hand on his side.
A small silence reigned between you guys before he cracked. He couldn’t help himself but say “Do you
do you wanna cuddle?”.
“Yeah” you answered. He turned around and you both scooted closer to each other as he opened his arms for you, enveloping your body and pressing it softly against his own. You put your leg on his hip to feel him more
Physical touch has always been something Dae-Ho loved receiving and giving to people, especially with you. So he was more than happy to cuddle you.
“Are you mad at me?” He heard your worrying voice ask and his heart could only soar.
“No, I’m just tired” he answered, hoping you’d drop it. It would be too embarrassing to say why he was acting like that, it’s not like you guys were together or something. He shouldn’t even feel like that in the first place.
Just like he hoped, you dropped it and simply went to sleep, lulled by his heartbeat and his hands caressing your back, and soon enough Dae-Ho fell asleep too.
The next day, it seemed Dae-Ho came back to his usual self. During breakfast, you guys were chatting about pretty much everything while sharing your food.
“What’s that on your arm?” You noticed ink on his skin.
He pulled up his sleeve, revealing a tattoo. You never would’ve thought of your friend as a tattoo person.
“It’s from when I was in the Marines” he says.
“The marine? You must be strong and courageous then” you joked (not really), to stroke his ego.
He smiled as he flexed his biceps “Of course I am”. Pink filled his cheeks when you laughed and he locked eyes with Jung-Bae who gave him a thumbs up with an approval expression on his face, and it only made Dae-Ho blush even more.
But soon enough, you guys’ small bubble was pierced when guards came to take you to the next game. As you walked there, beside your friends, you felt Dae-Ho’s warm hand slid in yours. Looking up at him, he was trying to play it cool but you could see he was nervous so you squeezed his hand.
God, he’s adorable. Why did you have to meet him in such circumstances!?, You lament to yourself in your head. If it wasn’t for the games you’d have asked him out already, but that’s basically impossible in here.
The game was Mingle, the rules were to be in teams of the number given and lock yourselves in rooms. Several turns passed and you had managed to survive them all.
When the speaker announced “2” Dae-Ho grapped your hand and ran fast, basically dragging you with him. But through the chaos of people running, someone ran right into you and you tripped right on the ground. You heard Dae-Ho shout your name and he turned around running back to help you get up, but at the same time, someone grabbed his arm and pulled him with them in a room.
Taken aback, he opened the door of the small room, but you were already gone from your spot.
Oh no.
Please no.
God please.
A train of thought raced through his mind as he scanned around through the small opening, looking for you. But throughout the chaos of people, the bad lightning and angle it was almost impossible to see well.
His ears ringed when people started dropping to the ground as the guards shot them. It was almost unreal to see and every time a woman died, his guts pinched even more and he felt sick while trying to see which one was you. But it was too fast and other pink soldiers came in with their black boxes and the vehicle they carry them with, hiding even more.
He has failed you. Kang Dae-Ho has failed you and you were dead now because of him.
“Her clock has not striken midnight yet” he heard a voice say behind him.
The weird shaman woman was there, staring at him with her dark creepy eyes.
At the same time, he heard the door being unlocked and he stepped out, the speaker announcing the end of the third game.
Nothing made sense anymore. You were dead, how is he supposed to live without you now?-
“Dae!” He stopped right in his tracks. Could it be
no, that’s impossible

“Dae!” He heard it again and he had barely à turned around when someone jumped in his arms.
He could recognize this scent anywhere and oh he inhaled it instantly as his arms immediately wrapped around your waist.
“But
how?” This has to be some sort of he was having. Is he already going crazy?
“Myung-Gi saved me” you answered “I fell right in front of him so he scooped me and basically carried me to a room”
Of course he did, he thought with a bit of bitter. But right now was not the right time for such feelings, at least you were alive.
The man was right behind you, standing there with his hands in his pockets. He had been there for you twice already, when Dae-Ho wasn’t.
“Thank you,” Dae simply says.
“Nah, thanks to her,” player 333 shrugs “She was right here when I needed her the most”
“Give yourself some credit too” you friendly push his shoulder “I was the one who needed someone and you were there to carry me. I probably wouldn’t have made it otherwise with my knee”
You guys acted like Dae-Ho wasn’t even there. He felt like he was just a fucking ghost watching you both bicker back and forth on who needed who the most and Myung-Gi kneeled to take a look at your knee.
“It doesn’t hurt that much now, but on impact it felt like hell” you say and he stands back up.
“Help Y/N walk and check on her knee from time to time,” he says to Dae-Ho.
He did not like the way he spoke, like Dae wouldn’t do that in the first place.
“I know” he simply says.
333 gives you a smile before walking away and you guys did too, Dae helping you.
There it was again, his bad mood. That guy certainly had the gift at pissing him off. And he certainly wasn’t the only one, Jun-Hee and Thanos couldn’t stand him either.
You took Dae’s hand in your own when you saw again his sad eyes. Why wouldn’t he just tell you what the fuck what wrong? It hurts to see him like this and not being able to help, but this time you decided to not drop it like yesterday.
So when night came and you joined him again in his bed, you waited until people began to fall asleep before you spoke in a whisper to not be heard around“Alright now, what’s wrong. You’ve been sad and angry or something since yesterday”
He didn’t answer at first and you were getting ready to tell him that he couldn’t keep it hidden from you forever and that he’d feel better talking about whatever it was bothering him. But eventually he spoke up.
“It feels a bit stupid now to talk about” he says, now unsure of himself.
He started spiraling a bit, imagining your reaction. You’re gonna laugh at him and say that of course you liked 333 since he saved you while he didn’t.
“I’ll judge it myself if it’s stupid or not” you were determined to know
He sighs and mumbles so low you didn’t get it “I’m sorry, say that again?”
He closed his eyes as he repeats “player 333” he sighs and continues “Mung-Go or something”
“Myung-Gi? What are you- why?” You couldn’t understand what you were hearing.
Shouldn’t Dae be happy that you’re alive instead of upset by who saved you?
“It’s just
I felt really awful during the second game when you left and
I don’t know I felt weird seeing you guys together afterwards, because I wanted you to come up to me but you stayed with him and- and then you laughed at something he said and it made me feel worse. Like- like I wasn’t enough,” you listened carefully as he opened up.
“And then today, I- God Y/N I thought you were dead!” A single tear ran down his face but he quickly wiped it “I thought I had failed you and you were dead because of me, but then I was relieved you were alive but when I saw it was him- and you guys were talking about needing each other- what about me?” He rants
Oh, so he was jealous this whole time.
“I need you Y/N. I probably shouldn’t because we haven’t known each other for long but it’s how I feel. But
I understand if you like Myung-Gi more because he saved you but- it should’ve been me! I know I can carry you just fine and-well, yes he may be more handsome than me but I don’t think he’s stronger. And yeah, I like you Y/N, more than a friend. So much, I can’t stand seeing you with him because it makes me feel like I’ll never be good enough for you. That no matter what I do, it won’t matter because someone else is already ahead of me”
His eyes were fixed somewhere else, refusing to look at you and your heart sank at his words. How the hell could he think like this?-
“I just want to be someone you can count on! Someone you’ll choose over and over again even if there wasn’t this game forcing us into this mess” he finishes with a voice crack, his frustration and vulnerability spilling out.
You were literally speechless at what he was saying.
“First of all” you start to enumerate “I left on my own during the first game so Jun-Hee could have a team and now we’re both alive. I never would’ve forgiven myself if she had died. Second of all, Myung-Gi and I were just hanging out, I’m sorry if it hurt you but like, he’s just a friend I promise. Third, he said he needed me but more like he needed someone you know? I just happened to be there and same for him, he was there when I needed someone. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think you can ever save me or something, Dae”
He slowly nods.
“And besides, don’t give Myung-Gi that much credit, he’s not that handsome to me and he struggled a bit to lift me off the ground during the game” the last bit made Dae-Ho chuckle a bit and your heart flipped at the sound.
“I prefer looking at you way more, Dae” you cupped his face, your thumb caressing his cheek. “I’ll always choose you”
His eyes were fixed on your lips as he licked his own and you could see him hesitating, but he adjusted himself so he could support himself on his arm. Butterflies flew in your stomach, watching him on top of you like that, damn that’s hot.
Dae-Ho almost moaned when his lips touched yours. They were so soft, fuck you were soft all over. You guys moved perfectly in tandem, like you had done this a million times before. Hot blood rushed to his downstairs area when you bucked upward against him.
Your legs locked around him to have him closer if that’s even possible, seeking the heady contact of him. Just this- you guys grinding your sex against together- makes you both pant and jerk, all consuming desire spreading through your bodies like wild fire.
And your bodies fit together so well, like two pieces of a puzzle as you rocked and bucked, hot flesh against each other. But it just wasn’t enough. You wanted everything with Dae: hear him, see him, taste him, and right now you had none of them.
“Let’s go to the bathroom” you whispered to him, when you both had to breathe.
Too lightheaded to speak straight, Dae-Ho simply nodded and quietly followed you. After a bit of an argument with a guard (you were absolutely not letting them cockblock you), they finally let you both out and walked you to the bathroom, waiting at the end of the corridor.
You both entered the women’s bathroom, you opened the first stall and pushed him against the door, chasing after his lips. His hands came to rest on your waist underneath your shirt, caressing the soft skin there before going upwards with the hem of your shirt.
You couldn’t wait anymore, you wanted to feel him everywhere, he wanted to feel you everywhere, it was all so much to feel and you didn’t even have a bed to do it well, but it’s whatever now. Quickly, you undressed each other. Dae-Ho couldn’t believe his eyes as he scanned you whole, you’re so beautiful it’s unreal. He felt blessed to have you only for him to have.
You gave him a last lingering kiss before sinking to your knees. Fuck, even his cock is freaking pretty, you thought as you took it in your hand. It was a good 6 inches long with a good girth and a pink leaking mushroom tip.
“I’ve wanted you for so long Dae” you pant as you kitten lick the head to catch the beads of precum on your tongue.
He whimpered, when you took him in your mouth without any warning. His taste oh my- it was everything and even more. It tasted salty with something else that was just so
him, you loved it. From then, you sucked him hard and fast down your throat, swallowing around him.
Above you, Dae-Ho tried his best to keep quiet, but that’s kinda complicated when you were literally moaning while blowing him, as if his taste gave you pleasure. The vibrations of your moans shot through his whole body and he couldn’t do anything but tighten his hands in your hair.
You pushed his hips toward your face, encouraging him to fuck your face. Your nose was nuzzled in his dark pubes and you stayed there, your hands on his hips to keep him from moving. His musk was so delectable, it was intoxicating as you smelled him. Over and over again, not moving and letting your throat stretch around his dick.
Your eyes were beginning to tear up as you looked up at him and you smiled around his cock. You were so fucking turned on right now, your clit was aching.
“Please” he whimpered “I’m gonna cum”
As soon as his words registered to you, you let him go with a loud pop and stood up to attack his plump mouth. His strong hands went to cup your boobs and squeeze them as you sucked on his tongue like it was his cock.
He trailed kissed down your neck, to your chest until he took your nipples in his mouth, sucking on each of them. Damn, your moans are hot. He wants to hear more.
So he sank to his knees like you did earlier and lifted one of your legs to put it on his shoulder
Warmth filled your lower half even more when he looked up at you, his eyes full of lust as he carefully leaned in and kissed your clit. A gasp left your mouth and he immediately went to town.
His hot tongue licked you from hole to clit and he suckled it, your pretty sounds were like music to his ears and encouraged him.
“You’re doing perfect Dae” you whimpered, hand in his hair and the other squeezing your breasts “How come you never- right there yes!- told me you’re a champ at this?”
He whined as he tongued your wet pussy, alternating with sucking your clit and lapping at it.
“I need you to fuck me against the wall baby” you say “but I wanna come on your tongue first okay? Can you make me- fuck Dae- do that?”
You vaguely heard an answer, but it was muffled as his tongue was inside you, licking around, laving your pussy.
“Oh I know you can, baby” you moaned again
You were practically grinding yourself against his mouth, seeking the relief your body desperately needed from him ever since you laid eyes on his physique.
Being around Kang Dae-Ho was already difficult enough for your body, because he always succeeded to make it react. Whenever he’d smile at you, initiate physical contact with you or even the way he’d run his hand through his hair, did it for you every time and made you want him even more if it was possible. And now that you finally had him the way you’ve been wanting, you felt more than happy.
“Finger me” you begged and you had to cover your mouth when you felt both his index and middle finger slide easily in your vagina.
Just like that, he focused on sucking the life out of your clit while his fingers curled deep inside you.
Your orgasm was rapidly approaching and you were right on the edge when a loud knock was pounded on the bathroom door.
“What’s taking so long in here?” The guard say outside the room
The interruption did not stop Dae-Ho from making out with your pussy.
“I’m almost finished” you answer, not breaking eye-contact with Dae and he smiles as he sucks hard on your bud.
Over and over again.
You had to restrain yourself as to not scream as your orgasm washed over you, but it was nearly impossible to stay quiet when his tongue was wrapped around your pearl and continued to suck you like this. He was almost suffocating as you rutted against his face, coating the bottom half of his face in your juices.
He wiped his chin and stood back up to kiss you, making you taste yourself on his lips.
“I like the way you taste” he whispered against your mouth.
“Yeah? Which lips do you like the taste of?” You asked him.
You asked that on purpose to make him blush, because it was obvious he liked how lewd you could speak.
“Both” he answered, licking your neck.
Dae felt like he was in heaven or that he was dreaming. It all felt unreal to him. He had been jealous about seeing you with Myung-Gi and next thing he knows, he’s lifting you off the ground, his arms hooked under your thighs.
“We gotta make this fast” you tell him while aligning his fat dick with your pussy and wrapping your arms around his neck.
The stretch was so fucking perfect, it wasn’t hurting too much and his dick was filling you so good. It was pressing against all the right spots.
Curses left his mouth as he your warm and slick walls engulfed him in, molding your insides to his shape. The second you gave him a signal that you were ready, he began to lift you up and down his cock.
His tip was hitting your g-spot perfectly everytime he impaled you on his cock. The way Dae Ho could support your full weight and fuck your brains out like that turned you on so much, one of your hands slid down to rub at your aching clit.
Moans threatened to spill out of your throat and you noticed Dae Ho was in the same situation, biting on his lips to not make too much noises. You smashed your lips against his, letting your moans melt together in each other’s mouth, the sound of skin clapping against each other echoing in the room.
“You’re so fucking- mhmh- strong” you whimper as he trail kisses on the side of your face and your neck. “I love it when you fuck me like this”
“Of course you fucking do” he says, speeding up his pace “Myung-Gi could never do this to you”
You couldn’t focus on the kiss he was trying to give you, too distracted by the pounding you were getting.
Dae Ho was focusing on not cumming before you, much easier to think than to do. He moved faster and harder, your walls clenching around his cock at every movement.
He wasn’t the only one trying to not come. It’s been so fucking long you’ve had sex, it’s like your body was more sensitive than before and was begging for Dae Ho to give you his all. He was so goddamn perfect, his tip kept assaulting that spongey spot inside you with merciless precision and you couldn’t stop every moans from spilling out of your mouth.
“Take me against the wall” you beg him after giving him a hickey.
He immediately put you down and press your chest against the stall’s wall. You arch your back, basically presenting your ass and wet pussy to him. Dae Ho didn’t waste time as he buried his cock back where it belonged, in your soaking cunt.
Your hard and burning nipples pressed against the cold stall, making you hiss. Pushing back your hips, you met his thrust midway and felt him even deeper if that’s possible.
“You feel so good baby” he moans
Dae Ho was fucking you so good, it almost made you cry how fast and hard his pace was. It’s like the both of you had forgotten about the guard waiting outside. You wanted this moment to last forever, for the world to stop spinning and for everyone to disappear so it could just be the two of you. But seen the circumstances, in a place where death could happen anytime, it wasn’t possible and your clandestine escapade in the bathroom had to come to an end.
You were right at the very edge and you knew only a small push would be enough. Like he was reading your mind, Dae Ho coated his fingers in saliva and suddenly they were on your clit, rubbing the small bud in quick circles
“Fuck- baby!” You couldn’t stop your moan as the knot inside you exploded.
Dae Ho pulled out with a whine, busting between your thighs. Without thinking about it, you fell to your knees, ignoring the pain in one of them and closed your mouth around his cock, fucking your own face on it and swallowing the thick ropes of sperm as he came and came on your tongue. You could taste yourself on his dick and it turned you on so fucking much, you wanted to go for a second round but knew you couldn’t.
It was truly amazing sight for Dae Ho to see, as he looked down. Your fingers were quickly rubbing yourself as you swallowed him whole, your eyes rolling back as you fucking squirted all over yourself while doing so.
After both riding your high, he helped you get up and instantly went for a messy kiss, full of tongue and spit. His hands caressed your body, following your curves and pressing you against his naked body.
You guys quickly cleaned up, took a piss (don’t catch UTI guys!) and put your clothes back on before exiting the bathroom. Both of you could imagine the guard’s face as he looked at the two of you exiting the bathroom, before he guided you back to the dormitory.
Dae Ho almost wanted to laugh at the situation, wondering if the guard heard the two of you.
He guided you both back to his bed, pulling you close to his chest, his lips kissing your forehead and praying to whoever was up there to make both of you exit this place alive.
“How’s your knee, by the way?” He suddenly remembered
“Dae Ho, I got on my knees twice to suck the life out of your dick. Don’t act like you care about my bruised knee now” you joke and kissed his neck. “But it doesn’t hurt that much anymore”
And you cuddled together to sleep.
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steddieas-shegoes · 17 hours ago
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i love him on purpose
for @steddielovemonth using red, white, and royal blue for inspiration
rated t | 1385 words | cw: forced coming out | tags: established relationship, secret relationship, royal steve harrington, wayne munson is the president (god i wish)
🔮âšȘđŸ””đŸ”ŽâšȘđŸ””đŸ”ŽâšȘđŸ””đŸ”ŽâšȘđŸ””đŸ”ŽâšȘđŸ””
The news broke in the middle of the night, long after Eddie had fallen asleep, and just before Steve’s alarm woke him up.
PRINCE STEVEN CAUGHT HOOKING UP WITH FIRST SON EDDIE, ROYAL FAMILY INSISTS ON SECRECY
Every headline is some variation of Steve and Eddie being caught, but there’s no photos. Most articles point to the royal family not wanting to allow it, but they didn’t even know about it.
Steve’s been so careful, much more careful than Eddie. Eddie’s told his best friends and Wayne, who deserves to know when his nephew turned son is getting into things. Especially when the thing he’s getting into is the Prince of England.
Steve doesn’t really have many friends. He has Robin, who is more like a sister to him, and an entire advisory team, publicists, security

He won’t answer his phone, which means all of those people have probably informed him he is to have no contact with the outside world until they figure out what to do. Eddie doesn’t know what to do.
They talked about hypotheticals, as any young adults in the public eye are wont to do. How they’d handle the press when they come out. How they would handle Steve’s family when they come out.
All under the assumption that they would have control over their coming out.
How naive.
“Ed. I have to give some kind of message here,” Wayne says softly, gently like he knows that Eddie is gonna beg him not to say anything until he hears from Steve. “Silence ain’t gonna win us any favors.”
“I promised he wouldn’t have to do this alone,” Eddie says. “If we make a statement now, I’m just throwing him to the wolves.”
“Not necessarily. Plenty of options with what to say. As long as we acknowledge we’ve seen it, they don’t have to have any other information,” Wayne says. “I’ll follow your lead, kid.”
“I don’t know what the right thing is.”
Wayne pulls him into a hug. This isn’t the first time they’ve had a PR nightmare on their hands, and probably won’t be the last. Wayne’s always been good at handling things just fine.
But this is something Eddie needs to handle. He accepts the comforting hug, then he decides to be brave.
****
“Forcing anyone to come out is disgusting, and the media has done it time and time again. In this case, they took something that should have been up to me, and up to Prince Steve, and made it world news based on a false report of someone seeing us together at an event. Whether we are together romantically or not isn’t up for speculation. We are what we are. We choose how to define that to ourselves, to our loved ones, and maybe someday, to everyone.” Eddie takes a deep breath and looks into the many cameras facing him, trying his best to ignore the reporters anxiously waiting to be able to ask questions. He’s not letting them, but they don’t know that yet. “Respect goes both ways. Pops has always taught me that respect is earned, not freely given. No one in this press room has earned my respect. Until you do, the only news story you can break about me is that I’m disappointed in the way the media has handled this news story. Thanks for your time.”
Eddie leaves the room.
Wayne is waiting for him in his office.
“Proud of ya, son.”
“Thanks.”
“Your boy will be here in four hours.”
Eddie’s jaw drops. “He called?”
“He did more than call. He caused a scene with every secretary in the building. He insisted he needed to speak to me.”
“He could’ve called me,” Eddie is pacing.
“You left your phone in here earlier, remember? He was desperate.”
“Is he okay? Have they made a statement yet?”
“They haven’t. They wanted to see what we’d do first.” Wayne holds Eddie’s phone out to him. “But I think he could stand to hear from ya.”
Eddie steps in to take the phone from him, but Wayne clasps his hand between his, holding tight.
“I can’t protect you from the media forever, but I’ll always stick up for you and your happiness. You know that?”
“Of course I do,” Eddie answers.
“That goes for your Prince, too,” Wayne smirks. “His family’s on thin ice, though.”
****
Eddie talks to Steve on the phone for a few minutes, but Steve’s not alone, and Eddie’s trying not to hide away entirely from everyone who cares about him. It’s a short conversation, but it’s enough to get them through until Steve arrives.
He sounds like he’s being stoic.
Eddie knows he’s struggling.
It takes nearly two hours of security for Steve to actually get to Eddie’s suite.
“Baby,” Eddie says as he pulls Steve into his chest, feeling whole for the first time since he woke up. “It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”
“They’re making a statement any minute now,” Steve says miserably.
“I’m guessing it’s not what you wanted.” Steve shakes his head in response. “That’s okay. We can work with whatever we need to.”
“They wouldn’t let me do it,” Steve explains. “I wanted to do something like what you did. They said I was too emotional.”
“I think you’re just emotional enough. God forbid you show signs of being a human.”
Steve laughs. Eddie smiles.
“Have you eaten? Do you wanna get cleaned up? I know you hate how airplanes make you feel,” Eddie offers.
Steve tightens his grip around Eddie. That’s answer enough.
****
“We sincerely hope the media will understand that making accusations of this nature about a member of the royal family will not go unpunished. Whether it is true or not, we will be handling this discussion internally. We have contacted the President’s office to have a discussion with their team. Eddie’s statement today was not discussed with us beforehand, nor did it go through any of our approval, and should not be seen as our official statement.”
“Does your grandfather always look like someone pissed directly in his eye?” Eddie asks Steve as they watch the official statement from his room.
“It depends on which of us has displeased him,” Steve laughs. “If it’s my mother, his lip curls up over his teeth.”
Eddie pulls Steve into his side on the couch, turning off the television so they can have some peace. They sit in the silence for a couple of minutes, something neither of them get to do very often.
“Wayne offered us the house in Indiana for a bit. Said it might be nice for us to just be away from the chaos,” Eddie runs his fingers up and down Steve’s arm, smiling to himself when Steve shivers against him. “At least for a few days. Let the media move on and give time for your family to get the sticks surgically removed from their asses.”
“That sounds nice,” Steve agrees, leaning his head back to kiss Eddie’s lips. “I wanna do something first, though.”
Steve pulls away so he can get his phone from the coffee table. It’s been on silent and face down since he arrived. He types for a minute, and Eddie waits.
Steve sets his phone down and turns back to Eddie with a grin.
“Okay, ready to go.”
Eddie’s phone goes off in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks down at where he’s been tagged on Instagram in Steve’s post.
It’s a picture from the trip they took with Wayne to Indiana last month, the two of them by a fire with melted marshmallow all over their lips. They’re both happy.
The caption makes tears pool in Eddie’s eyes and a semi-hysterical laugh burst from his throat.
Doesn’t matter who pissed in his eye, as long as I’ve got you. Let’s go off the grid, baby
“You’re gonna be in so much fuckin’ trouble, baby,” Eddie laughs with disbelief.
“I don’t care. They know better than to cause a bigger scene.” Steve kisses the corner of his mouth. “Can we go to that diner when we get there? The one with the burger that have cheese inside the meat?”
“How American of you,” Eddie teases. “I’ll make sure Wayne calls Benny ahead of time so he knows we’re on our way.”
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blouisparadise · 3 days ago
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There were some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of January. We really hope you enjoy this list and show these fics love. Happy reading!
1) Lucky Number Nine | Not Rated | 2,706 words
“Elle, I only ever wanted to be two things when I got older, Hot as shit and a criminal.” “Why a criminal?” She asks. “Well, I-” Louis is cut off by a ping on his phone. He looks down at it and reads it. “Shit, Shit, Shit! Elle, hand me my bag please and spritz me. The car is here!” She does just that, giving him four spritz of their shared floral VS perfume. Louis leaves and walks downstairs to find a very nice and very expensive car. He smiles wide and gets in eagerly. The driver greets him and hands him a small bottle of Fireball. What?
2) I Miss You, I'm Sorry | Explicit | 2,871 words
Note: The main pairing is Louis/Zayn Malik.  
Louis spends some time with zayn in his hotel room after his LA show. they smoke. they fuck.
3) What A Life We'd Have (I've Got So Much To Give) | Explicit | 3,610 words
They made a silly bet—really, it was ridiculous. Harry had bet Louis he couldn’t learn how to drive Delilah, his 18-wheeler because of the gear shift, so Louis bet him he couldn't learn how to give a good massage. The loser has to do the dishes and laundry for two weeks and well—here they are.
4) The Uni Party | Mature | 10,601 words
“What’s the point of going to a party sober?” he’d said earlier, tugging Harry by the hand into the kitchen of their flat. Harry had rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue, watching as Louis lined up the tequila shots like he was about to take part in an Olympic event.
5) Time It Right, Ensure the Passage of Youth Bids Farewell | Mature | 12,202 words
Harry and Louis join a frat, and they are like, totally not into each other like that!
6) His Comet | Not Rated | 14,390 words
Everyone, and everything has an origin story; something that defined the way they are now, how they act, and the things they do. There's also an ending to every story, but what about the inbetween? The things in the middle that we don't know about?
7) Pathos | Mature | 26,566 words
In 1760s London, amidst the grandeur of gilded estates and the shadowy intrigues of high society, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are heirs to two of the city's most esteemed families. To the outside world, Harry and Louis present a complicated relationship-a bond that borders on disdain, peppered with moments of what could pass as brotherly camaraderie. Yet, behind closed doors, their connection defies the strict conventions of their world. Beneath the facade of disdain lies an undeniable bond, forbidden and fraught with danger.
8) Leave The Light On (I’m Coming Home) | Explicit | 42,793 words
In Louis’ twenty-two years of life, she had never questioned her sexuality. Up until now she had only ever been with boys and never had second thoughts about it. Although, nothing had ever given her a reason to. That is, until she met Harry.
9) Fragments of Forgotten Lives | Explicit | 160,960 words
Louis has been missing for over a year, but the first thing he remembers is waking up just a few weeks ago. Everything before that is a blur - no memory of where he’s been or who he was. Now, trying to rebuild his life in Manchester, he finds solace in therapy and a deepening connection with a fellow survivor. When Harry, a stranger to Louis but someone from his forgotten past, recognises him on the street, everything shifts. Despite the amnesia, something about Harry feels familiar, like a lifeline. As fragments of his lost memories begin to resurface in vivid, unsettling nightmares, Louis clings to the comfort Harry brings. Together, they embark on a journey to uncover the truth of his missing year, unlocking hidden secrets, unspoken bonds, and a past that refuses to stay buried.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.
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onegayastronaut · 3 days ago
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Quiet Strengths
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Requested by anon: Can I request a fic where reader is autistic and shy but has a crush on Alex? Maybe she's the little sister of Lucy and Lois Lane?
Words: 2277
Alex Danvers wasn’t supposed to notice you. At least, that’s what you told yourself every time you saw her. You had convinced yourself that someone as brave, intelligent, and confident as her could never have a reason to look your way. But here she was, in the middle of the DEO’s bustling operations room, walking straight toward you with a warm smile.
You’d been working there for a couple of months, quietly carving out a place as the DEO’s go-to analyst for obscure alien tech. It wasn’t glamorous, but it suited you—your meticulous attention to detail and fascination with patterns made you uniquely good at it. It also meant you could avoid the high-intensity fieldwork that Alex seemed to thrive on. Watching her from a distance felt safe. Approachable. But now, she was closing that distance, and your heart thudded in your chest like a drum.
“Hey, Y/N,” Alex greeted, her voice cutting through the hum of background chatter. “Got a second?”
You nodded, swallowing hard. Words felt like an uphill climb most days, especially with someone like Alex. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Alex’s smile widened, and you had to fight the urge to look away. Her presence was magnetic, overwhelming in a way that left you both exhilarated and frozen.
“Great,” she said, holding out a tablet. “We recovered this from a raid earlier, but none of our usual techies can make sense of it. J’onn said you’re the best person for the job.”
Your cheeks warmed at the compliment. “Oh. Um, okay. I can take a look.”
“Thanks,” Alex said, and for a moment, her gaze lingered on you. “I’m glad you’re here. You’ve been a huge help lately.”
You blinked, taken aback. Compliments weren’t something you knew how to handle, and coming from Alex, they felt like rare treasures. You mumbled a quiet “thank you” and took the tablet, focusing on the device to avoid meeting her eyes again.
“If you need anything, let me know,” Alex added before walking away, leaving you rooted in place, your mind buzzing with her words.
It wasn’t the first time Alex had complimented you, nor was it the first time she’d made an effort to talk to you. But every interaction left you more certain of one thing: you had a massive crush on her.
You hadn’t told anyone, not even your sisters, Lois and Lucy. They’d always been your champions, fierce and protective in their love for you, but the idea of confessing your feelings for Alex felt too vulnerable. Lois would probably tease you mercilessly, and Lucy—well, Lucy would likely try to set you up, which sounded mortifying.
Instead, you kept your feelings locked away, channeling your energy into deciphering alien tech. It was easier to focus on circuits and coding than the whirlwind of emotions Alex stirred in you.
One evening, after a particularly long day, Lois called. You were curled up on your couch, poring over schematics from the tablet Alex had given you, when your phone buzzed. You hesitated before answering. Lois had a knack for picking up on your moods, and you weren’t sure you were ready for her to pry.
“Hey, kiddo,” she said, her voice cheerful but tinged with concern. “How’s work?”
“It’s good,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “Busy, but good.”
“Uh-huh,” Lois said, clearly unconvinced. “And how’s Alex?”
You nearly dropped the phone. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“Oh, come on,” Lois teased. “Lucy told me you’ve been working with her a lot. She’s great, isn’t she?”
“She’s
 fine,” you mumbled, your face burning. “She’s nice.”
“Nice?” Lois repeated, laughing. “Y/N, you’re terrible at hiding things. Do you like her?”
“Lois!” you protested, your voice rising an octave. “I
 I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” Lois said, clearly amused. “Just
 don’t overthink it, okay? You’re amazing, and if she doesn’t see that, it’s her loss.”
Her words stayed with you long after the call ended, a small seed of confidence taking root in your chest.
A few days later, you were in the lab, engrossed in analyzing the tablet Alex had given you. The device was unlike anything you’d seen before, its interface a mesmerizing web of glowing symbols. You were so focused that you didn’t hear Alex enter until she was standing right beside you.
“Any luck?” she asked, startling you enough to make you drop the stylus in your hand.
“Oh! Um, yes,” you stammered, quickly picking up the stylus. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Alex chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You looked pretty deep in thought.”
“It’s
 fascinating,” you admitted, your voice gaining confidence as you gestured to the tablet. “The tech is
 well, it’s not like anything we’ve seen before. It’s modular, adaptable. I think it’s designed to interface with other systems, but I’m still figuring out the specifics.”
Alex leaned in to look at the screen, and you caught a faint whiff of her perfume—something crisp and clean that made your stomach flutter. “That sounds like it could be really useful,” she said. “Do you think it’s dangerous?”
“Not
 not inherently,” you replied, your words careful. “But it depends on who’s using it. It could be a tool or a weapon.”
Alex’s expression turned thoughtful. “Good to know. Let me know if you need more resources. Or if you just want to bounce ideas around.”
You nodded, trying to ignore the way her offer made your heart soar. “Thanks. I will.”
She smiled again, that same warm, genuine smile that seemed to light up the room. “You’re doing great, Y/N. Really.”
For a moment, you dared to meet her eyes, and the sincerity you saw there made your chest tighten. You managed another quiet “thank you” before she left, leaving you to wonder how someone as incredible as Alex could make you feel so seen.
Your opportunity to say something came sooner than you expected. A week later, the DEO was hosting a small celebration for a successful mission, and to your surprise, Alex sought you out amid the crowd.
“Hey,” she said, holding out a drink. “Thought you might like some company.”
You hesitated, then accepted the drink with a shy smile. “Thanks. I’m not
 really good at these things.”
“Neither am I,” Alex admitted, leaning against the wall beside you. “Big crowds aren’t exactly my thing.”
You glanced at her, surprised. “Really? You always seem so
 confident.”
Alex laughed softly. “Trust me, it’s mostly an act. I’m way more comfortable when I’m working.”
You nodded, understanding all too well. “Me too. It’s easier when there’s
 structure. Predictability.”
“Exactly,” Alex said, her tone warm with understanding. She looked at you, her gaze steady. “You’re easy to talk to, you know that?”
Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your drink. “I
 don’t usually feel that way.”
“Well, you are,” Alex said, her voice soft but firm. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. Not just at the DEO, but
 here. With me.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words. Finally, you mustered the courage to look at her. “I
 I’m glad too.”
Alex smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. As the evening wore on, Alex stayed by your side, her presence a calming anchor in the bustling crowd. She asked about your work, genuinely curious about the projects you were passionate about, and you found yourself opening up in ways that surprised you.
“So, what do you do for fun?” Alex asked, her tone light but interested.
You hesitated, unsure how much to share. “Um, I like puzzles. And building models. Stuff like that.”
“That makes sense,” Alex said with a grin. “You’ve got a brilliant mind. I bet you’re amazing at solving puzzles.”
“I guess,” you said, ducking your head. “It’s
 relaxing. Predictable.”
Alex nodded. “I get that. It’s nice to have something you can control, especially when everything else feels chaotic.”
You glanced at her, surprised by how much she seemed to understand. “Yeah. Exactly.”
The conversation flowed easily after that, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly at ease. When the night ended, Alex walked you to your car, her hand brushing yours as she said goodbye.
“See you tomorrow?” she asked, her voice soft.
“Yeah,” you replied, your heart thudding in your chest. “See you tomorrow.”
Alex lingered for a moment, her gaze searching yours as if she wanted to say something more. But then she smiled—a quiet, sincere smile that made your breath catch—and stepped back. You watched her walk away, the faint warmth of her presence still lingering like a comforting echo.
The following days passed in a haze of tentative hope and quiet longing. Alex’s words and actions lingered in your mind, each small interaction leaving you wondering if she might feel the same way you did. She continued to seek you out during breaks, her questions and interest in your work feeling genuine and steady. It wasn’t just about the tech or the DEO anymore—she wanted to know you.
One afternoon, you were working in the lab when Alex appeared again, carrying two cups of coffee. She handed you one with a smile. “Thought you could use a pick-me-up.”
“Oh, thanks,” you said, taking the cup with a shy smile. “You didn’t have to.”
“Sure I did,” Alex said, leaning casually against the table. “You’ve been working nonstop. Consider it a thank-you for being amazing.”
Your face heated at her words, and you took a sip of coffee to hide your flustered expression. “I’m just
 doing my job.”
“You’re doing more than that,” Alex said firmly, her tone laced with admiration. “You’re brilliant, Y/N. I don’t know how the DEO managed before you came along.”
Her compliment sent a warm rush through you, but it also left you feeling exposed. You fidgeted with the edge of your sweater, your thoughts racing. “I
 I’m not good at taking compliments,” you admitted quietly.
Alex’s expression softened. “That’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. Just know that I mean it.”
For a moment, the room felt smaller, the distance between you shrinking as Alex’s gaze held yours. The weight of unspoken feelings hung in the air, and you wondered if she could hear the rapid beating of your heart.
“Alex, I
” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “I want to say
 thank you. For being so kind. And patient.”
“Of course,” Alex said gently. “I like being around you, Y/N. You’re
 special.”
Her words filled you with a mixture of joy and fear. Did she mean it the way you hoped? Or was she simply being kind? The uncertainty gnawed at you, but before you could overthink, Alex reached out, her hand brushing yours.
“Can I ask you something?” she said, her voice soft.
You nodded, barely trusting yourself to speak.
“Would you want to grab dinner sometime? Just the two of us?”
Your breath hitched. The room seemed to tilt as her question registered. “Like
 like a date?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Alex’s lips curved into a smile, her eyes warm and steady. “Yeah. Like a date.”
A quiet gasp escaped you, and for a moment, all you could do was nod. “I’d like that,” you managed, your voice trembling but sure.
Alex’s smile widened, and she squeezed your hand gently before pulling back. “Great. How about tomorrow night?”
“Okay,” you said, a small, nervous laugh bubbling up. “Tomorrow night.”
The hours leading up to your date felt like an eternity. You second-guessed everything—your outfit, your choice of conversation topics, even your decision to agree in the first place. But when Alex showed up at your door, her easy smile and casual confidence melted away your nerves.
“You look amazing,” she said, her gaze warm and admiring.
“Th-thank you,” you stammered, feeling the blush creep up your neck.
The evening was a quiet, intimate affair—a cozy restaurant with dim lighting and a menu that catered to your preferences. Alex made you laugh with stories about Kara’s antics and listened intently as you shared your own quirks and passions. For the first time, you felt like someone truly saw you, not just as a brilliant analyst but as a person.
As the night drew to a close, Alex walked you back to your apartment. The air was cool, the city lights casting a soft glow over the street. She stopped just outside your door, her hands in her pockets as she turned to face you.
“I had a great time tonight,” she said, her voice earnest.
“Me too,” you replied, your heart pounding.
Alex hesitated, then stepped closer, her gaze searching yours. “Can I kiss you?”
Your breath caught, and for a moment, all you could do was nod. Alex leaned in, her lips brushing yours in a soft, tentative kiss that made the world fade away. When she pulled back, her smile was radiant, her eyes filled with something you could only describe as joy.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” she said softly.
“Goodnight,” you whispered, watching as she walked away, your heart full in a way it had never been before.
In that moment, you realized that maybe—just maybe—Alex Danvers wasn’t just someone you admired from afar. She was someone who saw you, understood you, and wanted to be with you. And for the first time, you let yourself believe that you were worthy of that kind of love.
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serbarris · 21 hours ago
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Offer Me That Deathless Death
Chapter 12 of At Best You Find a Little Remedy Dragon Age: the Veilguard, some spoilers for plot, spoilers for Emmrich's romance  Pairing: F!Rook Ingellvar x Emmrich Volkarin  Rating: E Summary: Their first time, from Emmrich's POV, under the cut as nsfw! Words: ~600 read the chapter on ao3
He knew the implications of what he asked.
“Have you touched yourself while thinking about me?”
As if her pleasure (or lack of) hadn't consumed his every thought since her admission in the library. It should be sacrilegious to leave someone so bereft. Maker knows he indulged himself enough over the years. It was thrilling, to be the solution to her predicament, to be the one to coax unfounded pleasure from the indomitable Rook. To be her first and only pleasure.
He asked her as if she hadn't been the one haunting his fantasies for months. He had barely touched her and yet his fantasies paled in comparison to the real thing. She lay before him, her honey hair a halo in the veilfire-lit room, her lips swollen from their earlier attention, her lipstick leaving the faintest stain. He traced her tattoo with his tongue, feeling the heat of her skin as she blushed so beautifully for him. He nipped and sucked at her skin, tracing the soft curves and hard bones, the strong muscles that made her so fierce in battle. As he descended, he mapped every mole, mark, scar, and freckle. He kneaded her flesh, so soft and malleable. He decided he wouldn't mark her, not tonight. Not when he intends to leave his presence etched upon her soul.
“I want you, Emmrich. In any way you'll have me.”
Oh, the ways he would have her. Not tonight, tonight was for her to experience le petit mort and for him to build the foundation of his eternal veneration. She had him enraptured. Far beyond the novel curiosity that she had piqued, the lust she ignited within him, she plagued his dreams.
His tongue explored her wet heat. He wanted to know what made her gasp and moan. What left her boneless and begging for more? What would put his name on her lips spoken with devotion meant for a prayer to the Maker?
He pulled away.
Her pupils were blown, he was barely able to tell the difference between the colour of her irises. Her parted lips framed her breathy moans, her legs squirming against the grip he had on her thighs. He knew it was torture for her, to be brought so close to the precipice of release but denied once again, especially by his touch.
It had been years since he felt such delicious warmth around his cock. He savoured it. He would sin a thousand times over to repeat this moment. His thrusts were slow and deep, he could feel Calliope tremble under him, whimpering. The leg wrapped around his hips was insistent, fighting his pace.
He will give her what she wants, eventually. If she is to come undone then it will be on his cock, where he can watch her tumble off the cliff, witness her muscles flex, her chest heave and the shape of her mouth as she reaches her peak.
She bites his lip. Oh so softly, so gently, he wonders if she even noticed she did it. Her nails etched scriptures on his back that would fade with the rising sun.
He relents, his stamina waning, his resolve shattering. All penitence for his pride. She writhed beneath him, her swallowed gasps a sweet aria that he conducted until they reached a grand crescendo—pleading each other's name like a chant that would have the Maker forgive them for their sins.
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productofaritual · 8 months ago
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Event Horizon fucking stumbled upon my brain, went "that one", clung to it like a fucking monkey AND HAS NOT LET GO. SINCE 2022. HOLY FUCKING HELL. THIS THING CONSUMES MY EVERY WAKING THOUGHT. MY CURRENT GOAL IS TO GO THROUGH EVERY INDICATOR OF TIME AND MAKE AN ACTUAL ROUGH IN-UNIVERSE TIMELINE OF EVENTS LIKE A FUVKING GAME THEORY VIDEO
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slashersweethearts · 1 month ago
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smth abt the bateses utter lack of gaydar is so beautiful to me. two highly educated people. one of them a lawyer. the other a biochemistry professor. gave melina the genes that got this girl taking and doing well in entirely AP classes even in the midst of the worst heartbreak she has ever experienced in her life.
neither one of them has the slightest suspicion that their daughter, who went to her junior prom with another girl complete w matching corsages and all AND literally spent (6) solid months barely at home bc she was practically living at said other girl’s house until they MYSTERIOUSLY stopped hanging out over the summer n melina got Emo As All Hell, could be like. Remotely Fruity.
like no questions asked. fully accepting of her just dragging wes in one day like “hey so this is my new bf btw” despite the fact that she like Barely mentioned him at all before. and when she did it was always jus bc he happened to be in proximity of her and amber. like okay man whatever yall wanna believe 😭
#like we are just gonna smooth right past the way melina was like#coming home w hickies among other bruises Pretty Regularly#(tho i mean. sometimes she could hide em but they were Bound to be at least a little noticeable at ONE point)#every time shed go over to ambers to stay the night/weekend#her being literally ALL melina ever rlly talked abt#again. brother they went to prom together.#they both met her like melinas dad literally took PICTURES of them together 😭#then one day yalls daughters ‘bestie’ who she was like GLUED to stops coming around or being mentioned#ur daughter spending full days upstairs locked in her room crying like someone SHOT her#and still none of it ever once. correlated
?#god bless the bateses like the most oblivious parents any closeted girl could ask for#tbf i think brian has to be a Little like huh. but i think#hed just assume misplaced crush bc amber was her only friend after a DECADE w no one n leave it at that#sua however. do not dare even suggest her only child would ever be g- ga- she cant even say it#and he knows what shes like so. hes not saying anything to sua bc WHEW 😭#but it just kills me like#yall a traumatic uhaul lesbian r/s happened right b4 ur eyes#and u just kept assuming that girl was straight like nothing happened 😭#— ♡ đ˜€đ˜¶đ˜±đ˜Șđ˜„'𝘮 đ˜€đ˜ąđ˜­đ˜­đ˜Ș𝘯𝘹 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱 đ˜©đ˜°đ˜źđ˜Șđ˜€đ˜Șđ˜„đ˜Š! // melina bates.#— slasherverse posting.
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ame-to-ame · 5 months ago
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:|
#i am not gods strongest soldier#she'll talk to someone who will say stuff like you're useless to her and take it fine but. she won't even stand to be in the same room w me#what difference is it to be being in your room playing games with the same people all the time vs. like idk.#aren't you just transferring who you're dependent on. is the difference just the level of commitment. you feel like you can leave whenever#nothing's changed really somehow. you're still doing the same things you did while back then. just that you also avoid me.#and god i don't know. i tell myself I'll care less I'll get over it it is what it is and i try so hard to be busy and not think abt it#but i can't sleep w/o watching something these days or else it's on my mind and that's been shit for my sleep quality#it's the first thing that pops up in my mind when i wake up. i get distracted in class sometimes by it. it's not like i can control it#it's just like the more you try to not think abt sth the more it comes up type of deal.#and I'm trying so hard but i think this is legitimately. gonna make me spiral and I'm trying my best to have a grip and not go there#i have things I'm looking forward to and I'm supposed to b having fun but it's hard when. There's that looming in the back of your head.#ugh ok rational choice let's go. i don't try to talk to her: we don't talk. she doesn't try to talk to me. i suffer in silence.#maybe I'll get over it find something new that feels like a safehouse but that's a big if. and idk how long i can hold on for#i try to talk to her: maybe it could go well? but maybe she'll just get more avoidant#i don't really get it it's like she can respond and laugh to stuff i say when in a group setting but she gets so guarded when it's just me#like subconsciously you know I'm not a threat you can allow yourself to have fun around me.#but you're consciously putting a guard up around me and reinforcing the negative feelings when it's just me#god. i don't. but. at least it sounds like she's happy for now so. that's all i ask for. if she doesn't want to see me i don't show up#i want to see her but. i mean. There's really no compromise or middle ground here.#they say time heals everything but it's already been so long. i don't even know why I'm still attached. she's like a different person.#the person i loved appears every now and then just never in front of me and I'm trying my best but I've never been good with loss#how do you come to terms with something being dead and alive at the same time. how do you make up the mind to drive the nail in the casket.#i can't make myself put it into the dirt when i catch a glimpse of the person i once knew. that hasn't changed for anyone else. just me.#vent#delete later
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