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fairestwriting · 1 day ago

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Reader sleeping on the couch after an argument w/Dorm leaders? How they would react w/happy endings?

this got super long so i decided to change up the post layout so longer stuff would look nicer. But im also posting from a new device so if this goes up and theres any formatting fumbles then uhm. you didnt see anything

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

Despite how hotheaded and stubborn he is, it’s actually really rare for you two to really argue. He values your opinions on everything, and he’d hate for you to feel like he doesn’t hear you or care about your feelings. The last thing he wants is to make you feel like doesn’t care.

That, however, is something he’s still learning. It’s not very easy to let go of the habits he developed growing up— Especially if he thinks what he’s doing is best for you. He doesn’t know how to convince people, so he ends up coming off forceful and inconsiderate. It might even happen without him noticing he messed up, if you’re not extra straightforward about it.

So he knew you weren’t happy with him, but really didn’t think it was that bad, seeing you asleep on the couch is the last thing he was expecting. Even more if it’s the first time it happens, it makes him freeze go into panic mode.

You’re woken up to a really shaken looking Riddle, asking you what you’re doing on the couch at this time in very genuine confusion. He might not even have considered it was because of the argument, too focused on trying to figure out what’s up with you. And it’s hard to stay upset at him when he so readily listens to whatever you have to say, apologizing profusely and making a promise to not do it again that he’ll always keep. His intention from the start was to do what’s best for you, after all— So if he turns out to be wrong, the first thing he wants to do is to correct it.

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Arguing with Leona is… definitely a situation. It might have you wondering if it even counts as an argument at all. Sometimes he just doesn’t seem to even react to what you have to say, sometimes he straight up states he can’t be bothered to argue. He’s not as stubborn towards people he really likes, but he’s still very proud.

He can actually tell that he messed up very quickly, pretty much in the middle of whatever interaction went wrong, but can’t bring himself to actually back down and admit it. He doesn’t even bother trying to convince himself that he’s right or anything, he’s just that allergic to saying the word “sorry”.

When he walks past you, his first thought is that he should just “let you sulk”. It’s probably not the first time it happens to him in a relationship— And the same routine plays out every time. He wants to walk away, but he can’t. He eventually does, then he comes back and stares for minutes. Regret starts to really sink in then.

You have a blanket draped over you the day after, and Leona just so happens to be around to ask, much more tentatively than usual, if you’re coming with him to get breakfast. It’s his version of an apology, kind of. He’ll actually say it out loud if the subject of the argument was more serious, but that’s rare. He’s not very good at this and the both of you are aware of that, but he still cares, and he’ll get there eventually. Maybe.

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, he might actually have the lowest argument rate out of all dorm leaders? He owes a lot of it to just being good with words, he pretty much always manages to bring up his disagreements in a really non-confrontational way, they’ll barely even register as disagreements at all. If he can’t find a way to seamlessly compromise, he often just keeps his thoughts to himself.

...Mostly because he gets too anxious at the possibility of you rejecting him. Even if it’s something small, it’ll stay inside his head and refuse to leave, getting dwelled on when life starts to get particularly stressful. If you two argue, the likelihood is that he actually started it, because some other minor issue came up and the pile he was mentally stacking ended up falling apart.

Things can get really messy in the moment. Everything sounds offensive to him when he’s freaking out, while at the same time he’s painfully aware that he’s being overly emotional and causing problems that didn’t exist before. He stops his rant suddenly when self control manages to return to him, but at that point things were already said, and you’re walking separate ways after he awkwardly suggests you two just take a moment to cool off.

He might not even see you on the couch, being too ashamed to leave his office, but Jade will let him know either way. Azul won’t disrupt your sleep, and he’ll even try to give you enough time in the morning to get through your usual routine, but as soon as it’s possible he’s looking for you to privately apologize. He takes care to clear up any misunderstandings before voicing any of his worries, even though it’s visible how nervous he is. It comforts him just to see you looking at him with fondness again, seriously relieved that he won’t be losing you over the situation.

𐙚 Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is another one who doesn’t really argue, but that’s not to say he doesn’t voice his disagreements, because he does, and he does it very often. It happens as soon as the thought pops up in his mind, spoken all lightheartedly. Regardless of what the subject being talked about is.

…Which can very easily become a problem. He does take all your boundaries very seriously, but you need to be very straightforward about them. So if it happens that you two get into a topic he doesn’t know is touchy for you, he might say something that comes off insensitive. And yes, he will ask you as soon as he sees the change in your expression, but the lack of tact doesn’t mix well with you already being upset, and you end up just walking away.

Only then he stops talking, freezing up completely. He can tell, that you probably want some space now, and he’ll honor that— but the whole thing doesn’t leave his mind for hours. He has no clue of when he should go look for you to try to talk and apologize, no clue of how he should even word it all when he doesn’t know what he did wrong. His heart shatters when he sees you sleeping on the couch.

He probably asked Jamil for advice, then heard that he should really give you your space, but he just can’t take it. You get shaken awake and he’s tearing up while he apologizes, saying he really didn’t mean to make you upset, that he’ll do his best to be more careful if you tell him just what went wrong, but also that you don’t need to talk right now if you don’t want— He’s a little clumsy, and very emotional, but you know he means well, and that he loves you very much, which he’ll be sure remind you of over and over again.

𐙚 Vil Schoenheit

It’s no secret that he can really nag people, but Vil really doesn’t like to actually argue— He’ll say it every time a disagreement or misunderstanding starts to get tense. Partially a self-reminder, he’s aware that he doesn’t have nearly as much patience as he would like to. It can take a decent amount of effort to keep himself in check.

You two do successfully compromise very often, but sometimes even his suggestions can come off very harsh. It’s no secret to anyone who knows him. His peacemaking attempts are still pretty blunt, and his opinions are never held back. It can easily get upsetting, going as far as feeling like he’s judging you even though he’s not.

Vil actually takes a moment to tell that he might have said the wrong thing. He’s not so proud he’ll refuse to admit his own mistakes, but he’s just… used to upsetting people. You can outright leave mid conversation and it still won’t be his gut reaction, he always believes whatever he’s saying and only wants the best for you. It can take a good few moments until he realizes you’re not just “sulking” the way his underclassmen at the dorm do when he scolds them. Finding you asleep on the couch can honestly shock him.

He won’t wake you up right away— It’s still important for you to get your rest, and he wants to really think about what happened before he says anything— but there’s no way he’ll let you spend the night there. His voice is really soft when he calls your name, waiting for you to gather yourself before he tells you he’s sorry. Gently reassuring you in whatever you need while he explains himself, he’ll make sure everything is okay before he touches you at all, wrapping you up into a hug when everything is finally settled.

𐙚 Idia Shroud

He’s freaking out, full stop. He didn’t even think he’d ever get far enough with someone to be in this position. Since when does he even have the audacity to argue with a partner he never even believed he’d get? Whatever he did, he wholeheartedly believes he screwed up big time.

...And even though it’s his anxiety talking first, he might actually be right. He’s usually really passive, doesn’t even voice disagreements beyond maybe just whining about not wanting to go somewhere with a lot of people. And even then, he might be willing to try, just for you — So what went wrong? Probably a messy misunderstanding, where he said a lot of things he doesn’t mean…

He’s honestly just expecting it to be over. Believing that you’re going to block all his socials and never speak to him again. The second you walk away, the only thing in his mind is the absolute worst, so when he sees you on the couch he’s… relieved? But just for a second. It means there’s still hope for him! You would have just disappared if you wanted nothing to do with him, right? But he also recognizes the trope, he knows he’s going to need to work to be forgiven—

Idia is just standing there when you wake up. Pacing around the living room and losing his mind. He gets startled when he sees you’re awake, like he’s terrified of what will come next. At least he’s had (more than) enough time to think about what happened… the apology you get is very much sincere, even if it gets rambly at certain parts, ending with the two of you comforting each other.

𐙚 Malleus Draconia

For obvious reasons, things can get tricky with Malleus. Whenever you feel like you’re really starting to understand him, something strange will happen again, it’s a real cycle. All the factors in his upbringing connect with each other to build a very specific kind of character. Even if it looks like you two are really similar, there’s going to be a minimum of a handful of details that just change everything.

He’s always careful with his words, with basically no exception, but sometimes he just doesn’t know what the “right” thing to say would be, or he doesn’t know what a certain cue could mean in the moment, or whatever he knows is something that doesn’t apply outside of specific context of the royal family he’s a part of— The possibilities are endless, but a lot of the time, it’s more likely that things will just chalk up to the fact you don’t understand each other’s perspectives.

He might notice something is off right away, he might think nothing wrong happened at all, it can be wildly different depending on the topic at hand. He’ll ask what’s wrong if he does notice, but even if you do try to explain to him why you’re hurt, it may not make sense inside his head right away. And even though he’s genuine and fast to apologize, it can feel cold when he clearly can’t tell what’s actually wrong.

When he walks by the couch you’re asleep on, it doesn’t even register as being related to the argument right away. He shakes you awake to tell you it’s not a good idea to sleep there because it gets really cold later in the night. Right now, he’s had enough time to process and understand the situation, quickly giving you a new, truly heartfelt apology. Even if in the whole thing, in retrospect, was a pretty minor issue — And if it isn’t, or you’re just not ready to forgive him yet for whatever reason, he doesn’t push it. The only thing he’ll insist on is having you sleep somewhere more comfortable, really.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

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sanakiras · 2 days ago

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PICTURE ME LIKE I PICTURE YOU

PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 1.2k

SYNOPSIS — mingyu is hopelessly in love with someone who doesn’t love him back, and all that lies ahead is acceptance.

TAGS — unrequited love, fwb!gyu, explicit sexual content

NOTE — just a short drabble i felt like putting out. came up w this while listening to picture you by chappell roan, such a beautiful song, give it a listen !! <3

it’s been dark outside for several hours when mingyu’s kissing every inch of your body. he pushes himself into you with ease, but his touch is light as a feather. gentle.

the pace he keeps is slow, and fuck, you don’t think it’s ever felt this intimate before.

normally he’s relatively talkative during sex — this might be the quietest he’s been in bed so far, save for the grunts and moans working their way out of his throat.

“feels so good, gyu—” you’re half-slurring your words, not missing how his big hand interwines his fingers with yours as he ruts into you, a gesture that breaks your heart.

how can something feel so right yet so wrong at the same time?

of course mingyu didn’t go into this little friends-with-benefits thing with the idea of falling in love with you. hell, it’s the last thing he expected. he wanted something without strings attached but with consistency, a sense of easiness; you turned out to be looking for the same.

but he fell in love with you in a way he didn’t think was possible. to him, it felt like the kind of love you only find in the movies; the kind you can only dream of encountering in real life. it hit him sudden and hard — he didn’t confess to you, out of fear he’d lose whatever bond you have with him.

or perhaps that’s not all there is to it. perhaps he never confessed his true feelings because he knew, deep down, that you’d never reciprocate them.

because you don’t really fall for guys like him. you much prefer guys like wonwoo.

his best friend. his roommate.

the day he first saw it, he was horrified. what was a simple interaction to anyone else, was his worst nightmare. his heart sank in his chest the second he watched you and wonwoo meet from afar — that look the two of you shared was enough.

you’d never looked at him that way.

all that’s been on his mind is your look of brutally honest disappointment when he opened the door to his dorm and told you wonwoo was out. if you’d stood any closer to him, you could probably hear his confidence plummeting to his feet, as well as his heart ripping in two.

the whole ordeal should’ve made him put an end to the agreement you had with him, but he couldn’t do it.

because it’s all he had left of you. the realization hit him like a truck; the moment he’d put a stop to it, you’d no longer be his in any way.

not that you ever really were to begin with.

he’s clinging onto this last piece of you so selfishly, he knows that, but he so much as looks at you and everything he wants to say gets stuck in his throat, his thoughts never seeing the light of day.

an unsettling feeling slowly brews in his ribcage. all he wants is to understand. why don’t you love him? what does his best friend have that he doesn’t?

he might just break on top of you here — would you even care?

maybe you would. or maybe you’d just pity him.

the sound of your whimpering underneath him makes a strange, achingly good combination of heartbreak and lust. he wants nothing more than to dig his teeth into your soft skin, but forces himself not to.

your legs wrap tighter around his hips, pulling him closer to you. it’s you who puts your hands on the back of his neck, kissing him so sweetly that it almost makes him believe you want him as much as he wants you.

what makes everything worse is that he knows you tried. for a little while, you tried to see if you could give him a shred of the love he so desperately wanted to give you.

but you couldn’t.

“i want to love you like that, y’know. i want it so bad, and i tried, but…” you told him last week while slow dancing at a friend’s birthday party, “i just can’t.”

while your head was resting between his neck and shoulder, your bodies rocking side to side to the music together, he looked up at the ceiling to hold back his tears, the corners of his mouth curling downwards. it was admirable, how he held his head high that night.

truthfully, you didn’t expect him to come knocking on your door again after that. you broke his heart — even though you never wanted to — so you wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to see you anymore.

but to your surprise, he did come back. he was less cheerful, sure, but it’s as if part of him chose to ignore what you said to him, for reasons you didn’t understand at first.

he needs to accept that you and him aren’t meant to be. perhaps that’s the sole reason he wanted to fuck you tonight.

it almost sickens him how much he wants to beg for you to try again. maybe if you saw him more often, or spent more time together doing whatever you wanted, or if he kissed you even more than he already has — maybe you’d grow to love him in the end.

he buries his head in the crook of your neck, hiding how shitty he feels.

‘cause he knows you won’t love him, no matter what he does or how hard he fights for it.

“i’m close,” he mutters, only momentarily lost in the chasing of his high, “fuck—”

you clench around him with shaky legs, and he shivers at the feel of your nails digging into his skin, hitting his climax right after you.

and it’s then that he breaks. as he lays his head down on your chest, staring at the wall, his lips trembling — he can’t hide how hurt he is anymore.

“i’m sorry,” he chokes out with his face turned away from you, a few silent tears slipping from his eyes in defeat.

with a sad attempt for a smile, you stroke his naked back with your fingertips, your eyes welling up once you feel his teardrops landing onto the skin of your chest.

he’s so dear to you, as loving as a person could possibly be, yet you can’t love him back. a part you hates yourself for it, “i’m sorry, too.”

the sobs are fighting to escape his mouth, but he keeps them quiet, making you almost just as emotional as he is.

“i’ll get over it tomorrow, i promise. i’m sorry.” he whispers, his way of asking if you can stay together like this for just a little while longer.

you just let your tears go with a numb face and strained voice.

“i know.”

eventually, he has no more tears left, and his whole body shudders, feeling himself drift off into sleep with burning, tired eyelids.

he’ll be okay — it’s better like this.

it’s something he’ll come to terms with when he wakes up in the morning.

thank u for reading. please let me know if u enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

#svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #svthub #seventeen x reader #svt angst #svt oneshot #kim mingyu ff #svt fic #svt imagines #kim mingyu smut

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heartsriki · 1 day ago

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WHEN GOSSIP MEETS LOVE ⌇ 함께

pairing ᝰ sunghoon x fem!reader — featuring.. Jake (as jaeyun) & Riki | word count: 6.6k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ office romance, boss! sunghoon, fluff, tiny angst, make-outs, getting drunk, isolation, passing out, reader is blunt, sunghoon is arrogant at times.

synopsis — after being saved by Sunghoon on your first week of the job, you have had a blatant crush on him to the point the whole office knows. Later he learned of your interest, usually he wouldn’t care but why wont you make a move?

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊so this turned out way longer than expected… PLEASE READ THE BONUS ITS SO CUTE— Also I love me a semi arrogant man who gets put in his place 👅

Today was supposed to be just another day at the office. The same mind-numbing tasks, the same stale air, the same routine. The only thing that ever really changed around here was the gossip, and honestly, you kind of lived for it.

As you strolled down the hallway with a stack of papers in hand, you noticed your coworkers gathered in a huddle, whispering excitedly. Curiosity piqued, and you set the papers down on a nearby desk and wandered over.

“What’s going on?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

The group turned to you, immediately shushing you before gesturing toward the glass-walled conference room. “Look,” one of them whispered, pointing.

You followed their gaze to the meeting in progress—specifically, to the group of men seated at the table. Raising a brow, you asked, “So… we’re just staring at men now?”

One of the girls grinned, barely able to contain her excitement. “Not just men. They just hired Mr. Kim Sunoo. Isn’t he dreamy? He’s totally my type.”

Another chimed in, dramatically clutching her chest. “What I wouldn’t give to get a piece of Mr. Lee. Ugh, it’s unfair how perfect he is.”

You stood there, unimpressed, letting your eyes wander to the man sitting at the end of the table.

“What about you, Y/N?” one of them asked, nudging you with her elbow. “Anyone in there catch your eye?”

Before you could answer, a sharp cough sounded behind you, making the entire group freeze.

“Do you ladies have no shame?” Jaeyun drawled, raising an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee.

“Jesus, Mr. Sim, would it kill you to mind your own business?” one of the girls snapped, rolling her eyes.

Jaeyun chuckled. “And miss out on this? Never. Besides, everyone knows who Y/N’s been crushing on.”

You immediately stiffened, while the other two girls exchanged looks. Their eyes darted to where you were staring—at him.

“Mr. Park?”

“No way! He’s such an asshole.”

“You could do so much better.”

Their words blurred into background noise as you kept your gaze locked on Park Sunghoon, your so-called “crush.” But they didn’t get it. They couldn’t possibly understand. To them, he was cold and aloof—practically a robot. But to you? He was… interesting.

You didn’t always feel that way. When you started at the company a year ago, you weren’t interested in men—or dating at all. You were laser-focused on your career, and determined to climb the corporate ladder. Then you met him.

It all started your first week on the job. The office wasn’t the soul-crushing nightmare you’d seen in movies. Your little corner office was cozy, and your workload was manageable. Things were going smoothly—until they weren’t.

Some of the senior employees, jealous of your early success, had sabotaged your presentation for an important meeting. As you stood in front of the board fumbling through the slides, your confidence crumbled. Your hands shook, your throat felt dry, and your face burned with humiliation. Then, out of nowhere, he walked in.

Park Sunghoon strode up to your computer with an air of calm authority, plugging in a USB without a word. The correct presentation appeared on the screen, and you blinked in disbelief.

The head of the board narrowed his eyes. “Mr. Park, care to explain your tardiness?”

“I apologize,” Sunghoon said smoothly. “But I caught some employees tampering with Ms. Y/N’s presentation. I thought it necessary to intervene.”

The board members exchanged glances before nodding, motioning for you to continue. Your real presentation went off without a hitch, earning praise from the directors. But all you could think about was the man who had saved you from disaster.

After the meeting, you waited outside the conference room, nervously clutching your notes. As soon as Sunghoon stepped out, you followed him, finally mustering the courage to tap him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mr. Park?”

He turned, his expression blank but expectant. “Yes?”

“I just… wanted to thank you for what you did back there,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

His reply was cold and clipped. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it because I don’t tolerate workplace sabotage. Don’t expect me to save you again.”

Then he walked away, leaving you speechless.

A normal person might’ve been offended. Maybe even angry. But you? You were utterly smitten. How many men these days are that serious and passionate about their work? And let’s be honest—how many of them looked like that?

From that moment on, Park Sunghoon was your ideal man: hardworking, principled, and impossibly handsome. Sure, the whole office thought you were crazy for crushing on him, but they didn’t see what you see.

And as you stood there, watching him from across the room, you couldn’t help but wonder what he else he had underneath that surface.

A week after that little encounter with your coworkers, fate seemed to step in when you were assigned to lead a project—with none other than Mr. Park as your supervisor. Coincidence? You didn’t think so.

Now, as you sat in his office, he was going on about the plans and blueprints for the project. But you? You weren’t paying much attention. Your chin rested on your hands as you stared at him, absolutely transfixed.

“The peak must be at—Ms. Y/N, are you even listening?”

You blinked, snapping out of your trance. “Of course I am,” you replied with a bright, innocent smile.

He hummed, unconvinced. “Alright, then. How do you feel about placing it on Downtown Avenue?”

You nodded immediately. “Sounds great.”

His sharp gaze bore into you as he placed his pen down. “Interesting answer,” he mused, leaning forward until your faces were so close they nearly touched. “I never mentioned Downtown Avenue.”

Your eyes widened, and you quickly leaned back in your chair, flustered. Heat rose to your cheeks as you scrambled to regain composure. “I—I’m sorry, Mr. Park. Please continue. I’m listening now.”

He didn’t look convinced but leaned back into his chair, eyes narrowing slightly. “Alright.”

For all his calm professionalism, Sunghoon couldn’t quite figure you out. Sure, you were talented—he couldn’t deny that. But you were also incredibly dishonest, something he’d picked up on a month ago.

From the moment you first met, he could feel your gaze on him, as if you had a personal vendetta. He figured you hated him for how blunt he’d been during that initial meeting. But as time passed, he realized it was the exact opposite.

The revelation had come during a lunch break with the other department heads.

“What about you, Mr. Park?” one of them asked, smirking. “Is there a special lady waiting for you at home?”

Sunghoon raised a brow, finishing a bite of his food before setting his utensils down. “No, I live alone.”

The man hummed, and the others chuckled knowingly. Then, one of them leaned forward. “What about Ms. Y/N?”

At that, Sunghoon froze. “Excuse me?” he asked, voice cold.

The man chuckled nervously, straightening up. “Well, everyone knows how much she’s into you. Why don’t you give her a chance?”

The words threw Sunghoon off completely. “How much she’s into me?” he repeated, utterly confused. “Why would she be?”

For the first time in a long while, Sunghoon felt genuinely flustered. The idea that you might like him had never crossed his mind. And once the seed was planted, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

His first instinct was to let you down easy. He’d been pursued before and thought it best to nip things in the bud. But when it came to you, things didn’t go as planned. Every time he tried to confront you, the words just wouldn’t come out.

In his frustration, he turned to Jaeyun, the office gossip king.

“Mr. Sim,” Sunghoon began, his voice strained. “Just tell me already.”

Jaeyun turned away, arms crossed. “I’m not spilling Y/N’s secrets.”

Sunghoon’s patience was wearing thin. “I’ll give you my year-end bonus.”

Jaeyun’s head whipped around, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Deal. Yes, she’s interested in you, but not enough to ask you out.”

Sunghoon raised a brow. “What do you mean, ‘not enough’? Are you saying I’m not worth asking out?”

Jaeyun held his hands up defensively. “No, no, she’s just focused on her career right now. Don’t take it personally.”

But Sunghoon did take it personally. The idea of someone liking him and not acting on it? It didn’t sit well with him. His pride was bruised.

From then on, he started coaxing you, trying to provoke you into asking him out. At office dinners, he’d sit near you, only for you to switch tables. In meetings, you avoided eye contact as if it were a matter of life and death. It was infuriating.

And now, as he explained the project, you sat across from him, staring at him like he was the center of your universe. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ms. Y/N,” he said abruptly.

“Hm?” you hummed, snapping back to attention.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes scrutinizing you. “Have you heard the latest office gossip?”

You tilted your head, confused. “I don’t think so, sir. But what does that—”

“I heard the women in the office are all over our new hire, Mr. Kim,” he interrupted. “Are you one of them?”

Your brow furrowed, suspicious of his sudden interest. “Well, I haven’t had the chance to speak to Mr. Kim yet, so—”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he groaned, rubbing his temples. “I know you’re interested in me.”

Your eyes widened at his bluntness, but instead of denying it, you relaxed. “Yes, that’s right.”

His jaw tightened. “Then why haven’t you said anything? You lack initiative—”

You cut him off, staring at him dead in the eye. “Are you interested in me, Mr. Park?”

The question caught him off guard. His ears turned red as he replied, “No, I’m not.”

“Then why would I ask you out?” you shot back, your tone calm and collected.

He was stunned into silence. Since when did you have the upper hand in this conversation?

“Because it would allow you to get over me quicker,” he said, straightening his tie.

You stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded, his pride wounded.

“You think too highly of yourself, Mr. Park,” you said, standing up. “Did you think I’d beg for you? My work is more important than any man—even you.”

With that, you turned and walked out of his office, leaving him frozen in place.

For the first time, Park Sunghoon felt like he’d underestimated someone. But one thing was certain: he wasn’t going to let you off that easily.

In the days following your conversation with Sunghoon, you noticed a subtle shift in his behavior. The once-distant supervisor now seemed to find reasons to linger near your workspace, his presence a constant, albeit silent, companion. It was almost endearing, watching him struggle with the unfamiliar territory of being put in his place.

Today, his strategy appeared to involve hovering nearby, perhaps hoping you’d initiate a conversation. His restlessness was overwhelming. Should he apologize? But that would require him to make the first move, a notion that likely clashed with his pride.

Seeking guidance, Sunghoon found himself seated across from Jaeyun at an upscale restaurant—a setting procured through the promise of an expensive dinner. Jaeyun, the holder of all office gossip, knew how to drive a bargain.

“Alright, talk. Has she mentioned anything?” Sunghoon inquired, his impatience barely concealed.

Jaeyun took a deliberate sip of his wine before responding. “Nope, not a word.”

Sunghoon’s frustration was evident. “Nothing? Are you sure?”

Jaeyun nodded, his gaze drifting to the gorgeous night view outside. “I swear. I mean, she’s been busy lately. Extremely busy.”

Sunghoon’s curiosity was piqued. “Explain, Mr. Sim.”

“Please call me Jaeyun, we’re not at work.” Jaeyun said.

Sunghoon gulped never being informal before. “Okay…. Jaeyun— please elaborate.”

Setting his utensils down, Jaeyun sighed. “Well, besides the project you two are working on, she also has financial responsibilities concerning her family, especially her younger brother.”

Sunghoon listened intently.

“She’s been working overtime to gather extra funds for his tuition. I heard he’s exceptionally talented in the entertainment field, but their family isn’t wealthy enough to cover the expenses.”

Sunghoon absorbed the information, No he didn’t understand. Sunghoon has been fortunate his whole life but he was open to learning. He sat there contemplating his next move.

Jaeyun’s voice broke through his thoughts. “What’s all this for anyway? Do you like her?”

Sunghoon scoffed. “Why would you think that?”

Jaeyun smirked. “Who goes this far to reject a woman?”

Sunghoon pondered the remark. Perhaps you had made more of an impression on him than he cared to admit. Interest? Maybe.

“Okay, how should I approach this? What does she like? Purses? Jewelry?”

Jaeyun chuckled. “Wait, you’re serious? Oh man, you really have no idea…”

Sunghoon remained silent, a faint blush coloring his ears and face.

“Just be normal, Show her you care.” Jaeyun observed Sunghoon’s puzzled expression. “If you really need to buy her something, get her some food. She enjoys a good meal.”

Now that was something Sunghoon could manage. If he was going to reach out to you, a thoughtful gesture like sharing a meal might be the perfect starting point.

Sunghoon wanted to do something nice for you. A nice thought quickly turned into an overbearing gesture.

One day, you found a paper bag in your office. Inside were sweets from the bakery just a few minutes away from the building. Even though they weren’t your favorite, you appreciated the gesture and ate them. Sunghoon saw you smile through your office blinds a safe distance away and felt happy. He quickly looked around to make sure no one noticed and then walked away.

After that, he started leaving more and more food in your office. It became overwhelming. Today, you walked in and saw so much food that it startled you. You had figured out it was Sunghoon; he wasn’t very sneaky, especially after you caught him leaving your office last week.

This was too much. How could you eat all this? You sighed, closed your office door, and walked to Sunghoon’s office. You knocked.

“Come in,” he said.

You entered, giving him a sharp look. He stood up, adjusting his suit.

“Ms. Y/N?” he asked, looking confused.

“Mr. Park, how much longer are you going to leave all that food in my office?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

You crossed your arms. “Did you really think I could eat all that in one sitting?”

He gulped, running a hand through his hair.

“And do you even know what foods I like? What if I was allergic to some of them?”

He scoffed walking over to you slowly. “What do you like then? What are you allergic to?” He was now very close.

“Can’t hate a man you haven’t given a chance, don’t you think?”

Your face turned red. You were stunned by his bluntness. “What are you talking about?”

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

You tried to keep your composure. “I don’t have plans, but—”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you after work then.”

You didn’t believe him at first. You’ve met many arrogant men who talk big, so you assumed he was the same.

After a seemingly long task, you finally finished your job, clocking out. You exited the building and saw him leaning on his car, arms crossed with his eyebrows furrowed like always. When he saw you, his eyes softened. He gave you a small smile and opened the passenger door.

This was new, but you went along, got in the car, and he closed the door behind you. You didn’t see it but, He checked his hair in his phone’s reflection before getting in.

As he drove, you admired the city view. The lights of the night never got old to you. But sooner than later curiosity got the better of you. “Where are we going?”

He glanced at you through the mirror before focusing back on the road. “Dinner at ‘The Villa.’”

Your eyes widened. “Are you serious? That place is expensive and fancy.”

He nodded. “I thought you’d enjoy it.”

You sighed. You could see he was trying, but fancy restaurants weren’t your thing. An idea popped into your head. “Turn here Mr. Park, I know a place we can go.”

He looked at you, puzzled, but followed your directions. You guided him to a small restaurant. As you both got out, he seemed disappointed when you didn’t let him open the door for you but brushed it off.

He looked around, not seeing any fancy places. “Is this it? A grill?”

You turned to him with the prettiest smile he’d ever seen on you. “Yup! Come on.” You reached out your hand.

Usually, he wouldn’t choose a place like this, but with a smile like that, he’d follow you anywhere. He took your hand, and you both went inside.

Inside, the atmosphere was cozy and lively. The smell of grilled food filled the air. You found a table, and he awkwardly sat down, clearly out of his element.

A server came by, placing a small grill in the center of your table and bringing plates of raw meat and vegetables. Sunghoon looked confused.

You giggled. “It’s a DIY grill. We cook our own food here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We… cook?”

You nodded, picking up a piece of meat with the tongs and placing it on the grill. It sizzled, and the aroma was mouth-watering.

He watched you, then hesitantly picked up the tongs. He tried to mimic your actions but fumbled, almost dropping the meat.

You laughed, reaching over to guide his hand. “Like this.”

As the evening went on, you both cooked, ate, and talked. Sunghoon shared stories about his upbringing, and you told him about your family. He was clumsy with the grill, burning some pieces and undercooking others, but you found it endearing.

At one point, he tried to flip a piece of meat and it flew off the grill, landing on the table. He looked mortified, but you burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry,” he said, chuckling. “I’m not used to this.”

You smiled. “It’s okay. It’s fun.”

By the end of the night, the initial awkwardness had faded.

After a delightful dinner at the grill, you and Sunghoon stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the streets. As you walked side by side, you noticed a small park nearby, its swings gently swaying in the breeze.

“How about a walk in the park?” you suggested, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Sunghoon glanced at the swings, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “I haven’t been on a swing in years,” he admitted, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.

“Well, tonight’s the perfect night to revisit childhood memories,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

With a resigned smile, he agreed, “Alright, lead the way.”

You both approached the swings, and you took a seat on one, motioning for him to join you. He hesitated for a moment, then sat beside you, his posture stiff and unsure.

“Just relax,” you encouraged, giving him a gentle push. “I got you.”

As the swing moved, Sunghoon’s expression softened, and a genuine smile appeared on his face. He began to swing higher, his laughter blending with the night air.

“See? It’s fun,” you said, your voice filled with joy.

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours. “No, you’re the one making it fun Ms, Y/N.”

You both continued to swing, the world around you fading away. The simple act of swinging together brought a sense of closeness and comfort, a shared moment of happiness.

After a while, you slowed the swing and stood up. “Shall we continue our walk?”

“Of course,” he said, his voice soft.

As you walked through the park, you talked about everything and nothing—your dreams, your favorite books, the places you wanted to visit. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and with each step, you felt a deeper connection forming between you.

That night with Sunghoon felt like it was straight out of a dream—a memory you knew would replay in your mind over and over again. He wasn’t at all what you’d expected. Sure, he had an air of arrogance, and his confidence sometimes teetered on egotistical, but once you broke through that wall, he was entirely different. Genuine. Kind. Charming in a way that made you question how you’d ever misjudged him.

You’d never felt this kind of excitement in a long time, this sense of longing and hope for something more. A relationship. He hadn’t officially asked you out yet, but it felt inevitable. You’d already started imagining how it might all unfold.

But that was just wishful thinking.

The next day, as you walked into the office, you couldn’t ignore the way whispers followed you down the hallway. People stealing glances at you, hurriedly looking away when you caught their eye. At first, you brushed it off. Office gossip was nothing new. Maybe someone had spilled coffee on their boss again.

But the moment you saw your phone light up with notifications—hundreds of them—you realized you were the center of the latest spectacle.

It wasn’t just office chatter. It was everywhere. Tabloids, social media, magazines, blogs. Photos of you and Sunghoon—laughing together, standing too close, looking too comfortable. But that wasn’t the worst part. The headlines? They were brutal.

“Is Riki Nishimura’s Older Sister Using Park Sunghoon for Fame?”

“Dating Rumors Could Derail His Career!”

“How Will This Affect HER Younger Brother’s Future?”

Your stomach churned as you scrolled. At first, you laughed bitterly, brushing it off as ridiculous speculation. But then, you saw the headline about your brother. Your little brother, who had worked so hard to get where he was. Your heart sank.

If they wanted to drag your name through the mud, fine. But dragging your family into it? Threatening Riki’s career? That crossed a line.

You paced the floor of your office, wracking your brain for a solution. There was only one answer. It wasn’t fair, but it was the only way. You and Sunghoon… this thing between you—it couldn’t happen. Not if it meant jeopardizing your brother’s future.

The tears came slowly at first, then all at once as you slumped into your chair, burying your face in your hands. You hadn’t even realized how much you’d come to cherish what you began to have with Sunghoon until now, as you were being forced to let it go.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon had no idea what was happening. He was in his office, practically glowing, still riding the high from the time you spent together. He couldn’t wait to see you.

On his break, he searched for you. The lounge. The meeting room. Even your office. But you were nowhere to be found.

Frustrated, he turned to his co-worker—and now trusted friend—Jaeyun.

“Jaeyun, have you seen Y/N?” he asked, his tone casual, but his impatience obvious.

Jaeyun’s expression fell, pity flashing in his eyes. “Y/N? She… she put in for a two-week leave this morning. I figured you knew.”

Sunghoon’s heart sank. “What? Why? What happened?”

Jaeyun gave him a pointed look. “You haven’t seen the news, have you?”

Frowning, Sunghoon pulled out his phone, quickly typing in his name. The search results made his breath hitch. Article after article, photos, speculation, your name tied to his, your family dragged into the chaos.

Then he saw the headline about your brother. His grip on the phone tightened. He knew what you were thinking. Knew why you’d disappeared. And there was no way he was going to let this spiral any further.

Without a second thought, he called your number. Once. Twice. Three times. Each attempt went to voicemail.

Panic bubbled in his chest. He couldn’t let you do this—not alone, not to yourself, not to your relationship.

He barked an order to his assistant to start taking down the articles, to figure out who was behind this mess. But first, he needed to find you.

And when he did, he wasn’t going to let you push him away.

The days felt endless as you holed up in your apartment, your only companions being guilt and loneliness. It had been a week since you requested a two-week leave, and in that time, you hadn’t dared step foot outside. The weight of the news, the whispers, and the consequences of your choices pressed down on you like a heavy blanket.

The day you left the office, you called Riki, your voice trembling as you asked if he was okay. He reassured you that everything was fine—for now. His management had advised him to lay low until the rumors blew over. He didn’t sound angry, but that almost made it worse. You felt like you’d dragged him into your mess, and the guilt ate away at you.

Since then, you’d spent most of your time thinking about Sunghoon. Replaying the moments you’d shared, wondering how he felt, and most of all, worrying about what you’d say to him when you eventually faced him again. Did he care that much? Or had this all been one-sided? These questions swirled in your mind endlessly as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Desperate to drown out your thoughts, you remembered the new bar that had recently opened near your apartment. Without much thought, you dragged yourself out of bed, threw on some clothes, and headed out.

The bar was dimly lit, buzzing with quiet conversations and the occasional burst of laughter. You didn’t waste any time. One drink turned into two, then three, then four. You lost count after that, the haze of alcohol dulling your thoughts until you didn’t feel much of anything. Eventually, your body gave in, and you slumped over, unconscious.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon was unraveling.

It had been a week since he last saw you, and the distance was driving him insane. Every attempt to find you ended in failure. He didn’t know where you lived, your favorite places, or even how to contact your family. It frustrated him to no end, and it hurt even more to think that you might be avoiding him.

Every evening, he found himself at the small grill you both went to, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Tonight was no different. He stood outside the familiar spot, his hands shoved into his coat pockets as he tried to stave off the cold.

The buzz of his phone broke through his thoughts, and his heart leapt when he saw your name on the screen. He fumbled to answer, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Y/N? Where are you—”

“Are you friends with the owner of this phone?” a deep, unfamiliar voice interrupted.

Sunghoon blinked, pulling the phone away to confirm it was your number on the display. Confusion settled in. “Uh, yeah? Who is this? Why do you have her phone?”

“No worries,” the man replied. “She’s passed out in my bar. I found her phone unlocked and figured I’d call someone. Can you come pick her up?”

Sunghoon’s heart dropped. “Where is she?”

The man gave him the location, and Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. He bolted to his car and sped through the city, his mind racing with questions. Were you okay? Why were you at a bar alone this late?

When he arrived, he barely parked the car before running inside. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you. Slumped over the bar, your head resting on your arms, you looked so vulnerable. Relief and worry collided in his chest as he approached you.

“You’re Hoon, right?” the bartender asked, eyeing him curiously.

Sunghoon blinked in confusion before realizing the name was probably how you saved his contact. He smiled faintly, nodding. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The bartender nodded and stepped away, leaving Sunghoon to focus on you. His chest tightened when he saw how puffy your eyes were, evidence of the tears you’d cried before drinking yourself into this state.

He crouched beside you, placing a gentle hand on your back. “Y/N… can you walk?”

Your eyes fluttered open, blurry and unfocused as they locked with his. For a moment, you looked like you were seeing a ghost.

“Hoon?” you slurred softly, your voice tinged with disbelief.

He sighed in relief. “Yeah, it’s me. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

But when you didn’t move, he frowned. You were too out of it to help him. He checked your phone, hoping for some clue about where to take you, but it was locked.

He hesitated. Taking you to his place didn’t feel right, but with no other options and the clock striking midnight, he made a decision.

“You’ll understand, right?” he murmured to himself, draping his coat over your shoulders. He carefully helped you to your feet, guiding you out of the bar and into his car.

The drive to his penthouse was quiet, save for your soft breathing. He couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you, the city lights illuminating your face in a way that made his chest ache. Even like this, you were beautiful.

When they arrived, getting you upstairs was a challenge. You slumped against him, muttering incoherently and occasionally whining about how tired you were. By the time he managed to unlock his door and get you inside, he was exhausted.

He guided you to his bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed. As he adjusted his coat on your shoulders, he heard you mumble something. When he turned back, his face turned bright red.

“Why is it so hot?” you grumbled, fumbling with the buttons of your shirt.

“Woah, hey—don’t do that!” he yelped, grabbing your hands to stop you. “Just… just wait, I’ll turn on the AC!”

He backed away, keeping a wary eye on you as he adjusted the thermostat. When he returned, he brought a glass of water, helping you sit up to drink. “There, that’s better, hm?”

You sighed, lying back down with a soft hum of approval.

Sunghoon turned to leave, planning to sleep on the couch, but you grabbed his wrist, your eyes wide and pleading. “Hoon… stay. Please?”

His heart clenched. How could he ever say no to you?

“Alright,” he whispered, circling the bed and lying down on the other side, facing the ceiling. He felt awkward, unsure of what to do, but within moments, you shifted closer, resting your head on his chest.

He froze, his heart pounding as he felt your steady breaths against him. Slowly, he relaxed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair.

“Goodnight,” he murmured softly, his eyes fluttering shut as sleep finally claimed him.

The glow of the sun streamed through the curtains, forcing you to stir awake. The dull throbbing in your head hit as soon as you sat up, and you winced, bringing a hand to your temple.

Blinking, you took in your surroundings. The room was unfamiliar—sleek, modern, and definitely not your own. Panic began to rise in your chest as you tried to piece together the events of the previous night. You remembered the bar, the drinks, and then… nothing.

Your eyes widened as you looked down at yourself, relieved to find you were still in your clothes. But then you spotted the figure lying beside you, their back turned to you.

Oh no.

You gasped, clutching the pillow you’d been sleeping on, and without thinking, you began smacking the man’s back with it in a panic. “Who are you?! What is this?! Did we—?!”

The man bolted awake, flinching and shielding himself with his arms. “Hey! Hey! Stop!” he shouted, scrambling backward until he fell off the bed with a loud thud.

You froze mid-swing, the familiar voice cutting through your panic. Slowly, you leaned over the edge of the bed, clutching the pillow tightly.

“Sunghoon?” you whispered, your eyes wide.

He was sprawled on the floor, wincing as he rubbed the back of his head. His legs were awkwardly bent in the air, and he looked up at you with an awkward, sheepish smile. “Uh, hi.”

You let out a deep breath, sitting back on the bed. “Oh my god,” you muttered, dragging your hands down your face.

Sunghoon quickly got up, brushing himself off as he looked at you with a mix of concern and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I should’ve explained sooner. We didn’t… y’know, do anything.”

Your cheeks burned as you glanced up at him. “Are you sure?”

His ears turned bright pink as he nodded fervently. “Yes! I swear. You passed out at the bar, and I didn’t know where you lived, so I brought you here. That’s it, I promise.”

You relaxed slightly, but the tension in the room remained heavy. The silence that followed was suffocating, neither of you knowing what to say.

Finally, you broke it, your voice trembling. “Sunghoon… our relationship has to end here.”

His head snapped toward you, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What? Why?”

You avoided his gaze, staring at the sheets instead. “I’m sure you’ve seen the news. They’re dragging my brother into this, and I can’t let that happen. I can’t risk his career for my selfish desires.”

“Y/N—“

“What we had was nice,” you interrupted, your voice cracking slightly. “But it’s better for everyone if we stop seeing each other.”

He stepped closer, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You should check the tabloids again.”

You froze, your heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

Sunghoon grabbed his phone from the nightstand, quickly pulling up the articles before handing it to you. You hesitated, but as you scrolled, your breath caught.

The scandal was gone. There were no articles tearing you apart, no headlines about your brother being caught up in rumors. Instead, there were positive comments, even a few articles praising the supposed romance.

“How… how did this happen?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon sighed softly, sitting down beside you. His voice was gentle but firm. “I made it happen. I wasn’t going to let them ruin your life, or your brother’s, over something like this.”

You turned to look at him, his face close to yours. His expression was so sincere, so full of quiet determination, that it made your chest ache.

“Why would you do that?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Because I care about you,” he said simply. “And I’m not giving up on us that easily.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. Your eyes locked, and in that moment, all the fear, doubt, and guilt melted away.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing his tentatively. Sunghoon froze for a split second before responding, his hand cupping your cheek as he deepened the kiss. It was soft and slow at first, filled with all the emotions neither of you had been able to express.

But soon, the kiss grew more passionate, more desperate, as if you were both trying to make up for all the lost time and the moments you almost didn’t have. His other hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer, while your fingers tangled in his hair.

Soft sighs fell from the both of you as he laid you back on the bed. His hand exploring your body softly and slowly.

You took the chance to snake your hands below his shirt, scratching his back slightly making him shutter against you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, your voice shaky but certain. “Thank you.”

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Anything for you.”

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“Hoon, get up,” you said softly, glancing down at Sunghoon, who was sprawled across your chest like he had no intention of moving.

“Mm,” he hummed lazily, burying his face into you as if that would make you forget about work entirely.

You let out a soft laugh, stroking his hair absentmindedly. The moment your fingers ran through his dark locks, you realized you’d made a mistake—he let out a content sigh and snuggled in closer, clearly sinking even deeper into his sleepy state.

“We have to go to work,” you said, this time playfully, though your hands still gently tangled in his hair.

“I don’t want to,” he mumbled, his pout evident even though his face was tucked against you. God, he was so cute.

You smiled softly, shaking your head. “Well, we have responsibilities we can’t ignore, so you need to get up, Hoon.”

When he didn’t respond, you rolled your eyes, deciding to switch tactics. “If you get up, I’ll give you a reward,” you said, your tone light but teasing.

That did it. His head immediately shot up, his sleepy eyes now wide with interest. “What kind of reward?” he asked, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

You smirked, leaning back slightly as his head rested on your chest, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “You’ll find out if you get up,” you teased, brushing a stray lock of hair away from his face.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not entirely convinced. “That’s suspicious,” he murmured, though the corner of his lips quirked into a small smile. “Is it worth it?”

“More than worth it,” you said confidently, trying to stifle a laugh. “But you’re never going to know if you keep laying there.”

He groaned dramatically, still clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the bed. “You’re not making this easy, you know.”

“Well, you’re the one being stubborn,” you replied, gently pushing at his shoulder, though he didn’t budge.

Then, in one swift motion, he propped himself up on his elbows, his face dangerously close to yours. “Okay,” he said, his voice low and playful. “I’m up. Where’s my reward?”

Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden proximity, his teasing grin making your heart race. “Patience,” you said, trying to keep your composure. “You’re not fully up yet. Get ready for work first.”

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Hmm, that wasn’t part of the deal.”

“It’s implied,” you countered, laughing softly as you tried to push him off the bed.

But instead of moving, Sunghoon leaned even closer, his warm breath fanning over your cheeks. “I think I deserve at least a preview,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours ever so slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to glare at him, but it was impossible when his mischievous grin was so disarming. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, but before you could say anything else, he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a soft but lingering kiss.

It started playful, his lips tugging into a smile against yours, but quickly turned deeper, his hand cupping the side of your face as he kissed you with a tenderness that made your heart skip. He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, “Best reward ever.”

You rolled your eyes, still breathless. “Now get up, Hoon. Or that'll be the last one you'll ever get.”

He laughed, finally pulling himself out of bed. “Fine, fine. You’re the boss in this house.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your cheeks warm as you touched your lips. Sunghoon always had a way of turning your mornings into something unforgettable.

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #fanfic #fluff fic #enhypen angst #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen niki #enhypen jake #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon #sunghoon park #sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #kim sunoo

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yanderecrazysie · 2 days ago

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Twisted Zoo - Ending 5: "One of Us"

I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: This is similar to ending 2, but I like how it turned out

The moon was high in the sky by the time you were ready to enter the black panther and white tiger exhibit. You walked along the path to the enclosure, whistling cheerfully to yourself. As you pushed open the exhibit door, your whistle trailed off into silence.

All four halflings stood in front of you, looking grim. Even Malleus, who it usually took a small hike to visit, was present. Silver and Sebek avoided eye contact, but Lilia and Malleus stared at you in silence.

“Are you guys alright?” you asked, heart sinking at their expressions.

Lilia exchanged a look with Malleus before the smaller of the two stepped forward. He looked up at you with sad eyes and you were briefly reminded of a puppy wanting to have some of your food.

“Lilia, what’s going on?” you stepped forward, closing the enclosure door behind you.

Lilia shook his head, “It’s… bad news.”

You felt yourself trembling. You cared about the halflings so much, to see them so upset made you feel nearly heartbroken.

“The zoo,” Lilia said, so softly you had to lean in to hear him, “is planning to send us away.”

His words hit you like a train. You opened your mouth but no sound came out. “Send you away?” you finally managed to ask, “Why?”

“They think we’re too boring,” Lilia whispered, “We overheard the top humans talking. They say our exhibit is expensive to maintain when no one visits us. They plan to separate us and send us to different zoos across the world.”

“No! They can’t do that!” you gasped, “You’re like a family! They can’t just tear you apart!”

“They can,” Malleus finally spoke up, his furry ears pressed flat to his head, “And they will. Unless…”

“Unless what?” you asked, practically begging for an answer.

“You can help us,” Lilia said quickly, hope shining in his eyes.

You shook your head, “I don’t see how. I’m just a researcher. Mr. Crowley wouldn’t listen to me.”

“You’ve cared for us, made this place feel better than home. That has to mean something,” Silver spoke up.

Malleus stepped closer, casting a shadow over you. His emerald eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, “We don’t want to be sent away. We don’t want to lose you.”

Sebek nodded, “We’ll do whatever it takes to stay together, but we need you on our side.”

“I’ll… I’ll talk to Mr. Crowley,” you replied, “I’ll try to convince him to-”

Lilia interrupted you, shaking his head, “Talking won’t work. He’s made up his mind.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?” you asked in slight frustration.

Lilia’s eyes met yours, “You’re one of us… you understand us more than any keeper ever has. Surely you could sacrifice your humanity to tie together our family? That’s what the visitors really want to see.”

“One of you?” you echoed, “I’m human, I can’t-”

“Then let me make you one of us,” Malleus interrupted calmly, “My horns have magic, I can turn you into one of us easily.”

Lilia’s hand rested on your cheek, “We can’t survive without you, little one. Stay here, with us and let us keep you safe.”

“You’re sure this would save you all?” your voice came out as a whisper, but they all heard it clearly. One by one, they nodded.

Malleus’s horns began to glow as green as his eyes.

—----------------------------

“Look, Mom, look!” a little girl pointed down at you, “They’re so cute!”

Self-consciously, you drew your tail in, catching the two little white tiger cubs and bringing them closer to you. The twin toddlers giggled and hugged you, gently cuddling against the black panther baby cradled in your arms.

Your belly was large- you’d be giving birth in a month from now. Whether they would be white tiger halflings or panthers would be a surprise for all of you. The zoo visitors put in votes for their guesses.

Like they’d hoped, the white tiger and black panther exhibit was popular- in fact, it was probably the most popular now that you had little cubs tottering around and looking cute.

But at what cost?

Silver gently picked up a cub in each arm, “Give Mommy some rest.”

You blinked gratefully at him but didn’t say much. You were tired.

Everyone was happy this way! The visitors, the panthers, and the white tigers.

Yeah, everyone was happy.

Everyone.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere one shot #one shot #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland

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darinawrites · 2 days ago

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~embedded in your warmth (pt1?)

Cho hyun-ju x reader

Summary: accepting your death as you stood still on the circle platform, an iron grip on your arm had a different fate set out for you

Content: fluff to satiate the fluff lovers (we don't get fed enough), timid reader, soft hyun-ju, reader is implied to be fem, but can still be read as gn, typical squid game violence

A/n: this is my first post, crazy. But there's sadly not enough fluff hyun-ju on here. Im still unsure if I'll do a pt.2, we'll see. Also, my writing style is suited much more for longer stories. I tried to make it shorter, but it felt a bit rushed, tips would be appreciated! <3

Word count: 1.6k

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The childish song ringing in your ear, and the smell of blood filling your nose made your head spin as you spun around a type of carousel. It was excruciating to see the familiar fluid splattered everywhere, all reminders of the lost memories of those who once were beside you.

You never expected one of your childhood games to be so gorey, yet here you are, stifling the urge to vomit at the scene, gripping the arms of the only player you acquainted yourself with.

With a quiet and reserved personality, you unfortunately couldn't make yourself join a group, neither did you want to. Though, you've come to despise your reticent behavior as this game was just about that, pathetically clinging to a player you've spoken a few words with was your last option to survive this.

Shaky hands clutched the unknown players arm as the song suddenly stopped echoing in your ears, a woman's voice calling out:

And the frantic search began again as the spinning platform came to a halt. Lights flickering, people screaming and running, all in a few seconds. You quickly grounded yourself against the arm, legs running before your mind can catch up to its own ideas as you both searched for more people. Panting, sweat dripping down your forehead as you desperately searched for someone, anything.

Your mind was hazy as the player blurted to split up to find a group, not comprehending what he said before letting go of your arm and bolting away. The gesture almost made you lose your balance before you started frantically searching too, life on the line.

Running on pure adrenaline, you saw a group of three in the distance. The timer was nearing its end as you ran with the random group you found in an empty room. Pushing yourself behind the door as it made a soft 'click' sound.

Collapsing against the cold wall, your pants mixing in with the rest of the group, coming to the realization on how close you all were at the hands of death, barely managing to escape from its grip.

As gunshots joined with the eery screams of the players, what could've been your blood curling scream, you let out a shaky breath, body naturally flinching. Closing your eyes as the sounds rang trough your skull. You didn't want to see it, you'll ignore it for as long as possible, focusing your sight at the floor, your shoes or the other players.

If you can't see it, then it didn't happen, right?

But the dreaded part of it all was the silence that followed after, as if the lost souls are wondering the little carousel. It was worse than any other scream you've heard, and that made you even more uneasy. Showing more unwanted vulnerability.

The small room fades around you, the talking of the players blurring into the background as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, their judging eyes following your actions, yet you couldn't bring yourself to care, small snivels falling out of your mouth. The last bit of composure shattering inside you as the door unlocks. You had no one.

Deemed expendable, the players left you, all alone. Anxiety creeping back up again as you slowly made your way back, taking note of the fresh blood splattering even more of the ground. That damm song starting to play again, giving you chills. The platform, now covered with less people, spinning again. You truly thought this was it.

The moment you stepped in this room, you knew your fate was sealed. It was much too hard of a task to find a group with your timid personality. And in 30 seconds too? You just accepted it.

Thoughts whirled inside your head, trying to decipher where it all went wrong. How did it come to this?

Hazy eyes looked down at the small blue patch attached to your green tracksuit. Gaze focusing on the white 'O' sewed into it.

Were you this desperate?

You couldn't bring yourself to react as the platform beneath you stopped your weight. The voice that you've grew to hate calling out again.

-2

This time, you didn't react, no arm to cling to, no reason to run and change your fate. You were paralyzed from fear as the chaos simply surrounded you. You just couldn't move, you couldn't. Timer ticking above you, counting down the time before you fall into the arms of death.

You could sense the franticness of the players surrounding you, loud screams right beside your ear as they started pushing other players around. Falling victim to their movement as you felt your body lose balance, eyes blurring.

Before your body could fall against the red painted floor, a strong grip clutched your arms and pulled you towards them. Your eyes still unfocused, not being able to analyze your surroundings.

It all happened so fast. From being still as a statue to suddenly sprinting again, legs struggling to keep up with the pace set by the other pair of legs.

You tried to keep your head out of the gutter, gaze falling on the person who saved you.

Amidst the screams, you could still see short black hair and a tall frame and-

Oh. Her.

You finally recognized the arms that pulled you, being the woman you've seen a couple of times. Her bed right underneath yours. You saw her heroic acts in previous games. From saving player 456 to slapping some sense in that crazy lady. It seemed like she was just a kind person in nature, saving everyone she could. That made you trust her lead.

You had so many thankful thoughts clouding your mind as she softly pushed you in an empty room, making sure not to hurt you. Her back falling onto the door, only relaxing as it finally closed.

It wasn't long before the gravity of the situation came back again, gunshots ringing out again, flinching once more as your body suddenly felt fatigued. Your head was still spinning, matching the pain the rest of your body felt.

Sitting down to rest your weak body, you could feel her soft gaze looking at you, scanning you as she saw how weakened and shaken up you were.

"It'll be okay." her voice said. Seeing you tremble again as the gunshots continued. Closing the small distance the room offered between you two as she crouched down to where your head laid against the wall.

"You've come so far, you can't just give it all up by just standing there." her tone was one you weren't familiar with in these games. It was gentle with an affirming undertone. Genuine worry evident in it.

She moved her hands, hesitantly, before placing them on your cheek. You couldn't tell before when she gripped your arm how soft her hand actually was. Swiping her thumb at your cheek, picking up a small tear that slipped out.

Comforting, warm, intimate. Cheeks warming up at the gesture, sniffles fading away. Her gesture to mollify your tense body working. Gunshots still echoing in the background, a reminder of what this situation really was.

"I..I just can't anymore. I just want to go home." you said under your breath, such a small voice that it was barely heard, her comfort drugging you to let your frail emotions talk for you.

Her eyes were a big pool of emotions swirling around, her lips slightly curling downwards. Taking her hands off your cheek, an eery silence now creeping in as the screams and gunshots seemingly stopped.

"I know it's scary being here, but home can only be reached if you don't give up. Don't let these games drain you, don't make them win control over your body."

Shaking your head, you sighed. "I don't have the strength to not give up...I'm not strong like you." you admitted, letting the vulnerable words flow out. Thoughts intruding your brain that she'll discard you after this. Your timidness only hindering her.

"Then I'll be your strength. I can help you if you let me." Her words were so peculiar to you, something so unexpected. You noticed her features getting softer, her hands now rubbing the fabric on your shoulder.

Shaky breaths came out of you, not trusting your voice with the task of agreeing, you let your head make a small nod. Anxiety was still embedded in you, being something you've struggled with in every game, but her words alone made it smaller. It was evidently still there, but it shrank, even just a diminutive amount. You'll try, it's a promise. Letting your gaze dwell on her impeccable features, as she stood up and held out her hand. It made the edges of your lips go upwards, a feeling you've missed.

"What's your name?" you asked as your feet were pulled up, a slight tremble still there.

"Cho hyun-ju."

"Cho hyun-ju..." you repeated, testing the sound of it. It was weird to finally say someones name, with everyone being hidden behind numbers. You never managed to familiarize yourself with anyone to have the trust of their name. It felt...nice.

"And yours?" she asked, never letting you leave her eyesight.

You said your name, your voice now having a slight tremble. Though the uneasiness vanished just as fast it came as her lips had the gentlest smile. Her hands still on yours when she lifted you, now slightly squeezing yours. It made you have a faint smile, even as the door finally unlocked. Knowing what you'll see as you walk out, you'd have a warm body beside you to help you.

With her, maybe you will make it trough.

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#squid game #player 120 #cho hyunju #player 120 x reader #hyun ju x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid game s2 #cho hyun ju x reader #hyunju x reader

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hakkkuu · 3 days ago

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₊˚⊹ᰔRIIZE & MICRO FLIRTING₊˚⊹ᰔ riize x female!friend reader

Shotaro ᰔ Sweet Gestures

Shotaro would flirt through small, thoughtful actions—like tying your shoelaces, bringing you snacks, or remembering little things about you. His way of flirting is gentle and caring, almost impossible to miss if you pay attention.

You sigh loudly as you plop onto the couch, kicking off your shoes dramatically.

“Tired?” Shotaro asks, sitting down beside you, his warm smile making you feel a bit lighter.

You nod. “Exhausted.”

Without a word, he reaches into his bag and pulls out your favorite drink. “I figured you might need this.”

You laugh, taking it. “How do you always know?”

He shrugs, his cheeks tinged pink. “I just… pay attention to you, I guess.” His voice is quieter, and his eyes linger on yours a second too long before he looks away.

Eunseok ᰔ Playful Teasing

Eunseok would tease you constantly, poking fun at your quirks or the way you do things, but in a way that always feels lighthearted and affectionate. He flirts by making you laugh.

You’re struggling to fold a paper crane for a random arts-and-crafts challenge Eunseok forced you into.

“Why does yours look like a… squashed chicken?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder.

You glare at him. “Excuse me, artistic expression?”

He grins, grabbing your hand to guide your fingers on the next fold. “Here, let me save this poor bird.” His hand lingers over yours, and you glance up at him. His smile softens just slightly.

“Better?” he asks, but he’s not looking at the crane.

Sungchan ᰔ Subtle Compliments

Sungchan would throw in compliments when you least expect them—usually casual but undeniably genuine. It’s his way of making sure you know he notices you.

You’re sitting next to Sungchan at the café, sharing a plate of fries.

“Okay, be honest. Do I look like a mess today?” you ask, brushing back your windblown hair.

He tilts his head, studying you for a moment. “Mess? No way. You look good even when you don’t try.”

Your cheeks heat up. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not? It’s true,” he replies, his dimpled smile making it hard to tell if he’s serious or teasing. But the way he’s looking at you says he means every word.

Wonbin ᰔ Physical Touch

Wonbin’s way of micro-flirting would involve casual touches—ruffling your hair, slinging an arm over your shoulder, or nudging you playfully. It’s natural but intentional.

“Let’s race to the end of the street,” you say, already bolting ahead.

Wonbin laughs behind you, catching up easily. Just as you’re about to reach the lamppost, he grabs your wrist and spins you around, both of you breathless and laughing.

“Cheater!” you accuse, and he grins, keeping his grip on your wrist a second longer than necessary.

“Loser,” he teases, tapping your forehead gently before letting go. “But you’re cute when you’re competitive.”

Seunghan ᰔ Steady Eye Contact

Seunghan would flirt with his intense eye contact, making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. He doesn’t need to say much—his gaze does all the work.

You’re in the middle of telling a story, gesturing wildly to emphasize your point.

“Wait, are you even listening?” you ask when you notice Seunghan hasn’t said a word.

He blinks but doesn’t look away. “I’m listening,” he says softly.

His eyes don’t leave yours, and you feel your heart stumble.

“Then… what did I just say?” you challenge, flustered.

“You said that the cat was stuck in the tree, and you had to climb up to get it.” His lips curl into a small smile. “But I was more focused on how excited you looked while saying it.”

Sohee ᰔ Quiet Acts of Service

Sohee would flirt by quietly helping you out—carrying your bags, fixing things for you, or making sure you’re comfortable. It’s subtle, but it shows how much he cares.

“Why is this thing so heavy?” you groan, struggling to carry a box of drinks into the room.

Before you can take another step, Sohee takes it from your hands effortlessly.

“You could’ve asked for help,” he says, setting it down for you.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumble, feeling a bit guilty.

He glances at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You’re never a bother.” His voice is quiet, but it carries enough weight to make you pause.

Anton ᰔ Awkward but Endearing

Anton would flirt in a way that’s a bit awkward but totally adorable—like stumbling over his words or randomly bringing up something he noticed about you days ago.

“Hey, uh…” Anton begins, scratching the back of his neck as he walks up to you.

“What’s up?” you ask, amused by how nervous he looks.

He holds out a small bag. “You said you like sour candy, right? I saw this and thought of you.”

Your heart warms. “Anton, that’s so sweet!”

“I-It’s not a big deal,” he stammers, looking at the floor. Then, as if realizing he might’ve made it too obvious, he blurts out, “I mean, it’s not like I was thinking about you or anything!”

You laugh, and he groans, covering his face. “Forget I said that.”

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caitified · 6 hours ago

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okok hear me out pls. paige bueckers x reader wife where in r is pregnant and is due any day now but paige is still on an away game.

after paige’s win she was interviewed and was asked about when will the baby arrive. she says in the camera to “hold it in”. this was honestly based off of diana taurasi’s interview iykyk. hoping you could give this one a try. i’ve been longing for paige’s family series plssss thank u so much!

DUE DATE

PAIGE BUECKERS X FAMILY READER

comments: i have so many people asking about paige’s family , so sorry for it being on the back burner but keep the requests coming. and dt interview is elite.

warnings:none.

it had been a long, tense few days for both of you. paige was away for a game, and you, feeling the weight of pregnancy’s final stretch, were stuck at home, your body aching more and more as each hour passed. your due date was fast approaching, and every minute you felt like this could be the moment when your water would break, when the baby would finally make their grand entrance. you had never felt so much anticipation, but you had also never felt so alone in the waiting.

paige, on the other hand, had her game to focus on. she was playing her heart out, doing what she does best—putting on a show, leading her team, and pushing through any pain of her own to make sure her team came out victorious. you knew how much this game meant to her, how much her role on the court had become a part of her identity, and you were proud of her. but that didn’t make the ache of her absence any easier. you are in constant fear that the baby will come sooner than paige can get back to you.

when you checked your phone, there was a message from paige that made your heart skip a beat.

“hey babe, i miss you. how’s everything? can’t wait to see you soon 💙”

you smiled at the message, clutching your phone to your chest. she was on your mind every second of the day, and you could only imagine how hard it was for her to be so far away, knowing that you were on the verge of giving birth to her child.

just as you were about to respond, you saw a notification that made your heart flutter—a notification for the post-game interview. paige had just helped her team win, and now she was standing in front of the cameras, looking stunning, as usual. but what really caught your attention was the question they asked her.

“so, paige, your wife is pregnant and due any day now. do you have any updates? is she still holding up okay?”

paige smiled into the camera, her eyes sparkling despite the exhaustion from the game. and then, in a moment of pure humor and relief from the tension she was feeling, she did something you never expected.

“hold it in,” paige said with a wink, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “just a few more days, alright?”

the reporters laughed, some of them clearly taken aback by her humour, but everyone could see the love in her eyes. she was still thinking of you, despite everything, and that small gesture made your heart swell. paige always knew how to make you laugh, how to ease the tension, even when it felt like everything was about to fall apart.

you laughed softly, knowing exactly what she meant. it wasn’t just about the baby holding out a little longer; it was about the balance she found between everything she had to juggle—the game, her career, and the life you two were building together.

as soon as the interview ended, you texted her back,

“trying my best p, but you need to get your ass back here”

a few moments passed, and then your phone buzzed. paige’s response came through immediately, her tone light but full of that familiar warmth you always cherished.

“ i’ll be there as fast as i can. i need to be there for you, baby. just a little longer, okay?”

you smiled, the anxiety of the moment easing, knowing that paige was thinking of you, even in the midst of a victory. it wasn’t just the game that made her perfect for you—it was moments like this, when she made you feel like everything would be okay, even when things were uncertain.

just a little longer, you thought, glancing down at your belly. and with paige’s words echoing in your mind, you settled into bed that night, feeling the soft kicks of the baby inside you, knowing that soon, everything would change, and you’d finally be able to welcome your little one into the world.

thanks for reading, i can do the next day when she’s home if you’d like.

#wnba x reader #paige bueckers imagine #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #wnba imagine #wbb x reader #wbb imagine #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball

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smallestapplin · 1 day ago

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A sweet turn of events

This is a commission! @reallyshadowycollective thank you!🩷

Warnings : Optimus gets hurt, fluffy and cute ending I looked up the stages of courtship for this. Spark bonding. Everyone is fine dw.

Being Optimus’s partner was wonderful, he was always so kind, devoted, even at his busiest he’d still find a way to be there, for such a large bot he treats you like a prized treasure, loved and cared for. Being with Optimus for so long gave you an edge, despite being much smaller than the autobots around base, you were considered a boss of sorts, the only bots who’d still talk back to you were Prowl and Ratchet.

Though it also allowed you to bully your way passed Bulkhead and into the medbay after hearing so much commotion, knowing they had come back from a patrol and something went wrong, you weren’t expecting to see Ratchet and Wheeljack looking panicked, hovering over a badly damaged Optimus’s open spark chamber.

“Our tools can’t reach back there.”

“It’s too close to his spark, if we aren’t careful…”

“He’s still losing a lot of energon, that peice of scrap metal there. H-hey, why are you here?”

Wheeljack finally noticed you, his optics wide as he rushed over, trying to usher you out. Ratchet tries to hold a glare but it’s clear he’s worried.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what happened.”

Despite Wheeljack holding you tightly in his servos, he pauses, looking back between you and Optimus.

“An ambush on a routine patrol, boss bot took a hit or few for some of the others. We ain’t got much time, we need you to-“

“Let me help. You said your tools can’t reach where it’s needed, right? Let me do it.”

The two look to you like you’re crazy, Ratchet even especially.

“What!? No! There is too much energon leaking from his fuel lines, it’s too toxic in there for you.”

Yet you don’t take it as an answer.

“Ratchet, I am not asking. We need Optimus, we can’t just stand around arguing over this, when we could be saving him!”

Wheeljack looks to the head medic with a solem expression, you are their friend too, they can’t imagine base without you, but they also need Optimus as their friend and leader. Ratchet can feel his spark sinking, he has to sacrifice one friend for another. Looking down at Optimus’s battered frame, he’s barely hanging on, if they are going to save him it has to be now.

“Fine.”

“But, Ratchet-“

“We don’t have any other way, we can’t wait around much longer.”

Wheeljack walks you to the medical berth, your heart breaking at the sight of your beloved but it makes you all the more sure. Ratchet hands you human sized thick gloves and a mask.

“These will only protect you for a short time. I will walk you through it.”

You are quick to put them on as Ratchet hands you a bunch of self adhering tape. Wheeljack loads up the x-ray, so much more in depth and clear than any you’ve ever seen, even showing you where the problem areas were.

“We will tell you where to go, but right not stop his fuel lines from leaking energon and the get to the scrap metal poking into his spark chamber.”

You nod as Ratchet helps lower you down into Optimus Chassis. It’s a mess, you want to cry at the scene before you but you stay strong, pressing on as you get to wrapping leaking lines, and pulling small metal bits from places you’re certain they aren’t suppose to be. The longer you’re in here, the heavier your head feels, but you fight to stay clear, working towards your lover’s spark.

You can hear Wheeljack and Ratchet’s voices telling you where everything is, telling you what needs wrapping, encouraging you to press on. Until you made it to Optimus’s spark, it’s massive compared to you, but you can see the issue instantly.

The metal is at an odd angle it would make the most crooked tools break, and it’s far too close to Optimus’s spark for any servos to get in here, but those decepticons didn’t account for you. You grab the sharp jagged metal, pulling and wiggling it as best you can, slowly but surely working it out until you hear it.

A pulse? A voice maybe?

You look at the bright blue glowing spark, noting how much it’s glowing.

“Shh, it’s okay Op, I’m here, I got you.” You spoke low, just for the both of you to hear, if he could hear you at all.

You grab the metal again, widening your stance and pulling again, you hear it again almost akin to a groan.

“I love you, I got you. Please, just hold on.”

You know you could die here, you know this isn’t the safest place for you like this.

You’ve been in his chassis before, it’s the safest place for you, it’s hard for anyone to get to, but for you Optimus would carry you around there. Memories what keep you going, refusing to left him fall like this.

Finally with one harsh pull the metal is freed, the force taking you down but you yell for Ratchet, moving to over get it out into the open for him to grab.

“Let me guide you this time!”

He doesn’t argue this time, grabbing the solder to close up the gaping hole behind the spark, you guide his servo making sure to be between him and Optimus’s spark, protecting him from any of Ratchet’s movements. The room is spinning, but you refuse to move, even as Ratchet starts cleaning up any leftover energon, even as the medic softly calls your name.

Your energy feels depleted, but as you lean your head against the thrumming spark, you smile, you feel safe at home.

You don’t hear the panicked voices, don’t get them calling for one of the racers to take you to a human hospital.

As your eyes slide closed, eyelids feeling heavy, you could only think about how you’d do it again in a heartbeat to save your beloved. There is a harsh glow behind your eyes, making you groan as your eyes flutter open. When did you fall asleep?

You blink as frames come into view but too difficult to make out.

“Oh thank the all spark you’re alive!” You never heard Ratchet so relieved.

“You gave us a scare, I was sure you’d be meeting Primus by now.” Wheeljack places a cold wet cloth over your forehead, chuckling as you grow in relief.

When has your body gotten so warm?

“But still, a human spark bonding with a cybertronian, I never would’ve thought that was possible.”

You groan, you’ve heard those terms before but your head is throbbing, it hurts too much to think right now. Despite the pain you can’t help but have one fleet thought, is Optimus okay? As if hearing your thoughts, you can hear a faint rumble of Optimus’s engines purring.

Sluggishly you sit up, ignoring the loud protests from the medics as you move closer to an obviously tired Optimus, who opens his optics to look at you, despite his exhaustion he looks so content and happy to see you. Optimus lifts a servo up to cup your body and hold you closer.

“Hello, my light.”

“How are you feeling?”

He hums, laying limp back against the medical berth.

“Tired, but are you okay? You shouldn't have-“

You cut him off with a stern grunt.

“I’d do it again, I’d do it as many times as it takes to make sure you’re alive and well. I love you, and I refuse to not at least try.”

The others in the room leave to give you two some alone time. Leaving you and your beloved alone. He seems to hear your words, but seems somewhat dazed.

“Do you have a preference for when to hold our ceremony? Or maybe you have a tradition you want incorporated?”

“Huh?”

You look up to Optimus, who now looks confused at you. You two have been dating for a while of course, acts of intamacy, acts of disclosure, acts of giving, you two had been doing such things for years, was this not your act of devotion? Was this not the grand gesture of love you intended it to be?

But you spark bonded with him, he can feel the ties between you two now.

Did you not know? Surely you had to, your actions were loud and clear, your words were even louder.

“My love, don’t look at me like that, please.” You kiss his chin, trying to soothe him.

You feel an ache in your chest, it feels so heavy, can you feel his emotions now? Surely not.

“You bonded my spark to you, it’s not something that can be forced, I thought you wanted to make it official if Ratchet and Wheeljack haven’t told the others yet.”

Though your head is spinning, you feel light headed at the idea of marrying Optimus Prime, you didn’t know you could do that! But seeing his expression so light and dreamy makes your heart swoon, you don’t think you could tell him no.

Who are you kidding, you’d love to.

#transformers x reader #transformers Optimus prime #transformers Optimus x reader #transformers fluff #transformers x reader fluff

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glossykissies · 3 days ago

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i think this was like one of the first scott fics u posted but reader was in college for like fashion design? i think 😭 but anyways reader got a bad grade in one of her classes and scott says she cant touch him cos u cant reward bad behavior!!!

it’s funny because scott thinks he’s handling it the right way.

it’s how he was raised — it’s why he ended up in the working environment he did. his mother was a sweet woman, but his father was hard, never impressed, always pushing scott to achieve more. of course there were times he resented him for being so cold and unyielding, but he supposed he had him to thank for everything. now as a grown adult, scott saw himself in his old man, rearing his ugly head when least expected.

you’d come home to scott, all wired up and manic looking for a distraction. the project you thought you’d been slaving over ended up bringing you your worst grade yet. it wasn’t failable, and you knew you’d be able to pull yourself back — but it was certainly a wake up call. you felt ashamed.

you’d mentioned it in passing to scott as you were toeing your shoes off, thinking that if you treated it as a casual thing, it would be less damning. you were known to work hard, and you’d hate if scott thought any less of you. if there was anyone who’s opinion mattered to you over your professor, it was him.

“— and i’m gonna have to retake that class because i flopped so hard, anyway i had icecream for lunch—”

“hold on.” scott frowns, arms folded over his chest as he leans a shoulder against the wall, narrowing his eyes at you. “retake the class? explain.”

he makes note of the way you swallow and avoid his eyes as you gather up an excuse. “its fine, i failed the class. its fine.” you shrug a shoulder, and scott stares before shaking his head with a sigh.

“look — i told you, if you’re gonna be here all the time you can’t let it interfere with your projects. i think — i think it’s best if you start spending some weekends from home so you can get back on top of—”

“no!” you bark, eyes wide and desperate, which actually silences him in surprise. you are incredibly quick to adjust yourself, releasing a tense chuckle to let it be known that you were on your best behaviour, smile straining your cheeks and not quite meeting your eyes. “scott it’s not that serious, i swear. i’m passing all my other classes, this happens to everyone atleast once.” you figure your tone is reassuring enough, especially as he doesn’t follow you into the kitchen to make your daily green tea.

you spend a little longer than usual in the kitchen as you sip away at your drink, giving your boyfriend time to hopefully forget about the bad grade you received so you could potentially start the evening over, feeling things were a little chaotic. the hot liquid seems to soothe your nerves momentarily too, aiming to leave the day behind as you eventually slink out into the living room, eeking out your distraction as you join scott on the couch.

he’s watching some kind of documentary, naturally manspreading with that concentrated frown like a man much older than he was. you let a mischievous smile slip as you wriggle up to his side, stroking at his arm. this was nothing unusual from your usual behaviour, so scott doesn’t react — continuing on with his show.

“scotty.” you breathe in his ear, beginning to dot kisses gently along his jawline.

“hm?”

“missed you. needed daddy all day.” you pout as a manicured hand rises to rest on his broad chest before sliding slowly down his stomach toward his belt. you nearly jump out of your skin when he grabs your wrist and moves it away.

“no.” he hums, voice low. you blink your wide eyes at him in confusion — maybe you were just spoilt, because it wasn’t often you heard that word so firmly.

“huh?”

it’s only then scott looks at you, raising his eyebrows. “you think i’m gonna reward you for failing a class? you know, if i had been you — i’d already be at the desk with my laptop out, getting to work so i don’t fail my class again.” he’s stern, and whilst you’re used to his blunt ways you’re stunned by how cruel he was being. to him, he wanted the best for you and this was how he showed it in the moment, but to you it was the ultimate rejection.

it’s unnoticeable to the human eye, but he softens when you’re so quick to submit without argument despite his words, bashfully climbing off the couch to silently grab your bag and head to the bedroom where scott’s desk was. he watches you go, arms crossed — before he sighs, closing his eyes. that wasn’t him, it was his father. you didn’t deserve that.

he thinks up what to say to you, standing up to retrieve you approximately seven minutes later. he finds you at the desk where he suggested, laptop open on an empty document, crying quietly into your hands. scott closes his eyes for a moment, taking a breath before starting towards you.

“hey. hey.” his voice is quiet as he scoops you off the chair, replacing you with himself as he cradles you on his lap. “c’mon.” he whispers, feeling you wrack with another silent sob into your hands.

“i’m sorry.” you squeak.

“you don’t have to be sorr—”

“you’re disappointed in me. i’m disappointed in me too i just wanted to forget for a few hours.” you cry like a baby, stripped down to your most vulnerable self and his jaw clenches, mad that he was the one to upset you like this. this relationship shit was harder than it looked.

“hey i’m not, okay? i’m not. i was… hard on you because i think you can be great. okay? i think you are great. most talented girl i know. i don’t wanna get in the way of that, you know?” his large hand slides up your back to pull you closer and he feels you nod.

“i know. i’m sorry i get so upset about stupid stuff. i tried to be a big girl about it. i tried to… start—” you pull away to gesture to the empty document and he breathes out a chuckle, pulling you back to his chest.

“i know. i see… and it’s not stupid. i was mean. you should have kicked my ass.” he shakes his head but hears you giggle against his shirt, likely staining it with tears and mascara.

“next time.” comes out muffled.

“great.” he sarks before pulling you back to mop up your face, trying not to grimace at any snot or drool as he swipes it away with his thumb. “look. get started on… all this tomorrow. i’ll help in any way i can. what do you need right now? hm?” he jogs you on his lap with his knee once to signify that he wants a verbal and decisive answer. you press your lips together, glancing down at his belt once more. “oh yeah?” he confirms in that deep voice that makes between your legs ooze. “still after that?”

you nod, and he squeezes you hip. “alright. i think i can provide.”

#nonnies ୭ 🧁 ✧ ˚. 🎀#s.m ♡#twisters ✮#scott miller prompt

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callmemonster68 · 2 days ago

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ENHYPEN - Uncomfortable? ( smut )

Y/N had to sit on his lap in the car

Pairing: Enhypen X FemReader

Genre: Obscenity

Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, loss of virginity, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises, handcuffs, chains, sadomasochism , masochism, brands, public sex, oral

Niki Scene: With no other spot available, you sit on Niki's lap. He stays silent, but the tension is palpable as your movements seem to affect him. Dialogue: Y/N: "You’re so quiet. Are you okay?" Niki: "You know exactly why I’m quiet." (You feel his hands shift slightly to support your waist.) Y/N (with a mischievous smile): "I didn’t do anything." Niki (his voice deep): "Exactly. And it’s killing me." (He finally looks at you, his eyes burning with intensity.)

Sunghoon Scene: Sunghoon tries to maintain his composure while you’re on his lap, but your proximity and short skirt leave him restless. Dialogue: Sunghoon: "Y/N, are you comfortable there?" Y/N (teasing): "Not really. Your lap isn’t as soft as it looks." (He chuckles softly, but his voice has a husky edge as he replies.) Sunghoon: "Maybe because you’re making me too tense to relax." Y/N: "Tense? Why?" (He leans closer to your ear and whispers.) Sunghoon: "If I tell you, it’ll only get harder for me."

Sunoo Scene: You sit on Sunoo’s lap and start laughing about the situation, but he’s clearly struggling to keep his composure. Dialogue: Y/N: "Why are you so quiet? Are you uncomfortable?" Sunoo (nervous laughter): "You have no idea how much." Y/N: "I could move a bit if it helps..." (He gently holds your waist, stopping your motion.) Sunoo: "No. Stay exactly where you are. Trust me." (His serious tone makes your heart race, and the atmosphere in the car grows noticeably warmer.)

Jay Scene: The car was crowded, and you were forced to sit on Jay's lap. With a sudden sharp turn, you adjust yourself on his lap, creating an unexpected tension. Dialogue: Y/N: "Sorry... the curve's to blame." Jay (in a husky voice): "I don’t think the curve is the problem here." (You feel his hands gripping your waist firmly to keep you from falling.) Y/N (trying to ease the tension): "You’re awfully quiet. Is everything okay?" Jay (whispering): "If you keep moving like that, it won’t be." (His gaze catches yours in the rearview mirror, and the air in the car feels noticeably warmer.)

Jake Scene: The car is full, and you end up on Jake's lap. The ride is taking longer than expected, and the atmosphere begins to heat up. Dialogue: Jake: "Are you comfortable there?" Y/N (nervously laughing): "I’m trying. What about you?" (He takes a deep breath before answering, his voice slightly lower than usual.) Jake: "I’m... managing. But it’d be easier if you weren’t wearing that skirt." (Your face heats up as he turns to look out the window, clearly trying to maintain control.) Y/N: "Jake, I think you’re sweating." Jake (nervous laughter): "You would be too if someone was this close."

Jungwon Scene: In the packed car, you end up on Jungwon’s lap. He tries to stay calm, but the proximity is hard to ignore. Dialogue: Y/N: "You seem a little tense. Are you okay?" Jungwon: "Do you think it’s easy to stay calm like this?" Y/N: "I’m not doing anything." (He laughs softly, the sound almost a whisper.) Jungwon: "That’s exactly the problem." (He pulls you slightly closer, his hand firm on your waist, and whispers in your ear.) Jungwon: "When we get home, we’ll finish this conversation."

Heeseung Scene: Sitting on Heeseung’s lap in the back seat, he tries to mask his discomfort as you adjust yourself. Dialogue: Heeseung: "Y/N, you need to stay still." Y/N (laughing): "I’m trying, but the car’s moving too much." (He holds his breath as you shift again.) Heeseung: "You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?" Y/N (teasing): "I don’t know what you’re talking about." (He leans closer to your ear, his tone low and firm.) Heeseung: "If you keep this up, I won’t be able to hold back."

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

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ibijau · 1 day ago

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mdzs daemon AU / On AO3 It's likely the last thing I'll post for this AU because much as I love it, I just don't know what more to write in it. So we're closing with some JC have a bad time, because that's always fun!

The first time it happened, Jiang Cheng shrugged it off as a coincidence.

He was in Yiling, helping clean up the last traces of the siege on the Burial Mounds. Jiang Cheng had left the living spaces to the other sects, refusing to be the one destroying the cave where Wei Wuxian had lived and, presumably, been happy at last with people who weren’t Jiang Cheng.

Because they weren’t Jiang Cheng, a part of him still thought. That was why Wei Wuxian had come there, because it was the only place he could go where Jiang Cheng couldn’t follow.

Wei Wuxian had chosen death over Jiang Cheng. That said it all, didn't it?

His thoughts filled with rage and grief, Jiang Cheng didn't look around him as carefully as he should have. He knew there were traps everywhere, created to protect those people Wei Wuxian had loved more than him, and yet Jiang Cheng didn't look where he was going.

Later, he reflected that if he had stepped into that array, he would have been torn apart from limb to limb. But he didn't take that last step. He didn't, because he heard a familiar voice crying out his name, and saw from the corner of his eye a flurry of dark feathers.

A wild hope had seized Jiang Cheng, because he knew that voice, that shape, and they hadn't found Wei Wuxian's body. If he had survived after all, if he had tricked them, if he had sent Pashou to warn Jiang Cheng… but no trace of the daemon could be found aside from that voice no one else heard, that dark shape no one else saw.

At least, Jiang Cheng hadn't told anyone what he’d been looking for, hoping to protect Wei Wuxian even when it was unearned. Even Fengyu hadn’t known, he’d had her supervise another part of the clean up process.

From this shame he was spared.

The second time he saw Pashou, Jiang Cheng was tracking a demonic cultivator causing trouble near Yunmeng. Not an uncommon occurrence. Since the raid on the Burial Mounds, all those shady characters who used to gather there had now moved closer to Yunmeng. There was a rumour going on that Jiang Cheng had captured Wei Wuxian and was keeping him alive, hidden away in the Lotus Piers.

To counter that rumour, Jiang Cheng had gotten in the habit of being merciless toward any demonic cultivator he encountered, nearly to the point of savagery. It worked, to a point. Now, instead of saying he was hiding Wei Wuxian, people were starting to say he was looking for him. A small difference, but it mattered and let him keep face in front of other sects. Once or twice, some small sect or other had even reached out to him to help deal with demonic cultivators in their own area of influence.

Being a merciless killer was better than being a fool, Jiang Cheng figured.

But the particular demonic cultivator he was tracking that day had more skill than he’d expected. The man had no qualms killing civilians and cultivators alike. Took pleasure in it, even, and it wasn’t until he’d seen it that Jiang Cheng realised how bad Wei Wuxian had become, near the end. He’d had that same crazed look in the Nightless City, that same terrible smile after Jiang Yanli had died and he’d no longer cared who got hurt by his antics. When he’d no longer remembered that Jiang Cheng was still alive, could still be killed. But of course, Jiang Yanli had always been the one Wei Wuxian truly loved. Jiang Cheng just happened to also be there.

“Focus,” Fengyu hissed at him.

Jiang Cheng glared at her, then at the man they were hunting. He was standing in a lotus pond, doing who knew what over the water, half obscured in that moonless night. Jiang Cheng and his most skilled disciples had encircled him, but they were waiting for the right moment to strike, unsure what horror that man could unleash if he felt threatened. No matter what, the pond would have to be cleansed, Jiang Cheng thought. Whoever owned it would have to be reimbursed for the loss of their harvest. More money coming out of his always fragile finances, all because Wei Wuxian hadn’t known when to stop messing with things he shouldn’t have.

“He’s trying to create a waterborne abyss,” a familiar voice said behind Jiang Cheng. “He’s almost managed now. If you don’t attack now, you’ll lose men.”

Jiang Cheng refused to turn and look. Fengyu did, and she let out a soft whine, as if she’d been kicked. So she’d heard it too, she could see it too. It was a relief. It had to be a relief, Jiang Cheng thought, and yet he just felt furious.

Rage was good, though. Rage got things done.

Rage allowed him to lunge at that demonic cultivator before he could cause more damage. Rage let him take down that man and leave nothing of him but a bloodied corpse, barely recognisable anymore.

When the fight was over, Jiang Cheng finally dared to look back.

Pashou wasn’t there anymore, but that was no surprise. She’d flown away somewhere, back to wherever Wei Wuxian was hiding.

Perhaps Jiang Cheng ought to feel grateful that Wei Wuxian still cared enough to send his daemon to help.

But gratitude was a hard commodity to come by these days, and Jiang Cheng had run out of it long ago.

On some nights, Jiang Cheng and Fengyu discussed it. Only if Jin Ling was in Carp Tower and wouldn’t risk overhearing. Only if they were drunk enough, to dull the pain.

Over the years, they’d seen Pashou a few more times. It was Pashou as she used to be before the war, they’d noticed. Not the dull little pet she’d become since the Sunshot Campaign, but the proud and clever black swan from before. She never stayed long, and only appeared if there was danger ahead that they hadn’t noticed.

Of Wei Wuxian himself, they’d never seen a trace. He had to be hiding well, supposing he was alive.

At first, Jiang Cheng had assumed that Pashou being around meant that Wei Wuxian had survived somehow. But one day Pashou had appeared while there were others around, humans and daemons both, and none of them had noticed that black swan standing next to Jiang Cheng. She’d spoken, and only he heard her. She moved, and his eyes were the only ones following her.

“It’s not just that,” Fengyu told him one night as they reminisced, her head on Jiang Cheng’s lap. “It’s really like she’s not there.”

“What do you mean?”

“She smells of… not even of nothing,” the dog daemon explained. “She’s like a negative smell. Like the absence of something.”

“Like a ghost,” Jiang Cheng said, who had heard his daemon and others try to explain that concept before. “But daemons don’t have ghosts. They can’t, they just dissipate when their person dies. I’ve never heard of a daemon ghost.”

“Me neither,” Fengyu admitted, nervously climbing on his lap even when she was too large for it. “But Wei Wuxian liked to do the impossible.”

Jiang Cheng said nothing, and just scratched her ears to comfort her, to comfort himself. What could be said? Wei Wuxian had been so insane near the end, it wouldn’t have been impossible for him to do something terrible to his own daemon.

Ten years had passed since the disappearance of Wei Wuxian, and then more. Jiang Cheng had grown used to his old friend’s absence, and to Pashou’s spectral appearances. His life wasn’t what he’d ever thought it would be, but it wasn’t a terrible life by any means. He’d reached a balance that would have seemed impossible at the time of the Sunshot Campaign. His reputation was that of a dangerous but just man, which he liked. His sect was as great as it had been in his father’s time, greater perhaps. He had no wife, no children, but he had a first disciple who would succeed him someday, and he had a spoiled brat of a nephew whom he loved more than anything in the world.

Things weren’t bad.

Then Wei Wuxian returned.

Initially Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure that it even was Wei Wuxian. The manners were the same, the fighting style too, but this was a different body, and that Mo Xuanyu person had a raven daemon at his side instead of Pashou.

But as Jiang Cheng tried to get that Mo Xuanyu handed to him for interrogation, he’d spotted Pashou nearby.

On instinct alone he’d tensed, because Pashou never appeared unless there was danger. But she didn’t warn him of anything that time, didn’t point at someone’s hidden weapon. She only stood behind that Mo Xuanyu person and stared at him looking as angry as a black swan could be. Jiang Cheng had forgotten how Pashou could be, when she was furious.

What had Wei Wuxian done to his daemon to anger her like that?

And this was Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng knew it the moment he saw Pashou. Only her own human could have provoked such intense emotions in her.

Wei Wuxian was back.

He was back, and still trying to hide away from Jiang Cheng.

Some things really never changed.

Jiang Cheng remained alone on the pier, Suibian in hand.

He’d gone back inside of course, and asked some passing people to try and unsheathe the sword, in vain. Nobody could. Nobody could, except him.

He’d left to be by the lake, fighting a growing nausea.

He’d known Wei Wuxian had grown insane toward the end. He’d never realised that the insanity had started long before anyone could notice. And it was insanity, what Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian had done. Something like that…

Jiang Cheng clenched his fists. Fengyu, concerned, licked his knuckles, trying to comfort him. Trying to process it herself. She couldn’t have stopped it, not with the state she’d been in after Jiang Cheng had lost his golden core, but he could feel her guilt anyway, his own guilt for never noticing what had been done.

He should have known. He should have guessed. Now that he knew the truth, everything made sense. Wei Wuxian’s odd behaviour, his refusal to use his sword, Pashou’s state, and…

Pashou…

Without thinking, Jiang Cheng turned around and found the black swan daemon standing behind him. She was silent, looking at him as if she’d never seen him before.

“I didn’t remember,” she told him. “I didn’t remember anything except taking you to Wen Qing.”

The barely controlled rage in her voice led Jiang Cheng to believe her. And with the way she’d been during the Sunshot Campaign and after…

“Did you think I was him?” Jiang Cheng hissed. “Is that why you followed me, all these years?”

Pashou tilted her head, and laughed. She’d never been one to laugh much, unlike Wei Wuxian. She’d always been too serious when they were young, before turning too quiet after the war.

“I knew who you were, Jiang Cheng” she claimed. “I just didn’t understand why I was still here. I suspected it had something to do with our golden core, but I couldn’t be sure, and I didn’t have Wuxian to discuss it with. But if Suibian reacts to you, then it makes sense I do as well. He’ll be fascinated when he hears about it.”

Without thinking, Jiang Cheng nodded. Of course Wei Wuxian would be excited. Anything new and ill-advised excited him.

“Why haven’t you shown yourself to him?” he asked.

“I don’t know if I can,” she said, then paused and shook her head. “No, that’s not… truly, I’m angry at him. I know why he did what he did. I understand, you were more important. But he never took a moment to think what it would do to me. He destroyed me and never cared that he did, because he never cares about anything.”

In his heart, Jiang Cheng knew this to be wrong. He hadn’t understood at the time, but he remembered how concerned Wei Wuxian had been about his daemon in the early days of the war, and then for a while after the Sunshot Campaign. Every trick that could be thought of to strengthen a daemon, Wei Wuxian had tried it, then written down the result it’d had on Pashou. None, usually. But it hadn’t stopped him from trying and trying and trying again, putting more effort into that than he ever did in helping Jiang Cheng rebuild his sect.

He’d done the same, trying to fix Jiang Cheng’s broken core.

What did it matter, though, when the result might have done worse damage than the problem they had before?

“What will you do now?” Fengyu asked. “Are you trying to be Jiang Cheng’s daemon, now that you have a right to it?”

That suggestion startled Jiang Cheng, who immediately put a protective hand over his dog daemon’s head. She was his. She would always be his. Even when she’d been half killed by Wen Zhuliu’s core melting hands, turned into nothing more than a weak pet, she’d still been his, and nothing, nobody could replace her. No matter whose golden core was inside his body, Fengyu was Fengyu, she was his and he was hers.

“I’m not his daemon,” Pashou replied, preening haughtily. “I’m not Wei Wuxian’s, either. At least, I don’t think. He has that raven now. He doesn’t need me.”

“He doesn’t get along with Mo Xuanyu’s daemon,” Fengyu protested.

“Then he should have thought of that before doing… whatever it is he did to me,” Pashou retorted. “I feel no connection to him now. I’m not even there most of the time, anyway. I don’t even know where I am when Jiang Cheng isn’t in danger. Those are the only times I still exist.”

“He has to miss you,” Fengyu insisted. “I know you miss him too.”

Pretending not to hear, Pashou went on preening herself, pulling too hard on her feathers and messing them up instead of smoothing them.

As angry as he still was at Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng felt sorry for Pashou at least. Poor thing, turned into a monster. It was terrible, what had been done to her, to him. That it had been done out of love didn’t make it any less horrific. Perhaps it made it worse, in fact.

Wei Wuxian had loved them and abandoned them. Jiang Cheng, Pashou, even Suibian, if a sword could feel… and it could, to some degree, or it wouldn’t have sealed itself.

Remnants of Wei Wuxian’s love, left broken by his affection for them now that he was moving on to better things. Why should Wei Wuxian care about the horrors that remained of his first life, when he’d found better people to stand with him in this second chance he’d obtained?

But Jiang Cheng was his mother’s son. He wouldn’t let himself be so easily discarded.

“Let’s find out when Wei Wuxian and those other two have gone,” he said. “We’re going after them.”

“What for?” Pashou asked. “It’s pointless. He doesn’t want us.”

“He’ll get us anyway,” Jiang Cheng retorted. “His daemon, his sword, his shidi, I’m giving all of them back to him. He might be willing to move on, but I won’t let him forget us that easily.”

#jiang cheng #wei wuxian #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #daemon au #jau writes

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kivino · 2 days ago

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PROMISE KEPT || ZOMBIE AU || PLATONIC!SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X KID!READER

sum. Among blood and whispering ghosts of the past, you would never dream your caretaker Simon to keep a spur-of-the-moment promise to forever stay with you. Yet he did.

tags. hurt/comfort, parental struggles once again, teenager reader yay, arguments, fluff in the end, obviously this is platonic

w. c. 2.9k

a. n. I’m so glad I got the request to continue this Ghost fic, because that was one of the hardest and rewarding works of mine. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

jjk masterlist || cod masterlist || ao3 link to this fic || ko-fi

Sun scorched your eyelids, insistently urging you to wake up. But you didn’t move, half-expecting a gruff, deep voice to accompany the sunshine in waking you up. Something certainly felt missing when you didn’t hear it. A wave of panic rose within you, which you forcefully suppressed, almost like pushing down on the trash in an overflowing garbage can.

Everything’s fine. He’s around somewhere. You should stop worrying so much.

He wouldn’t abandon you.

A soft, uneven sigh escaped you, and finally, you get up from the bottom of a bunk bed that was so generously left by the previous owners of the cabins. Whatever was the case with the family of four that would stay here on so many holidays and vacations, it was safe to assume that they were not coming back. That’s what Simon said, anyway. You didn’t want to think much about what the people who lived here were like. Always made you sad. Who were the siblings whose stuff you were now using, strangers connected to you beyond the time and space, through a blanket littered with bees and flowers, or a ski jacket that was a tad too loose on you. Simon said you’ll grow into that jacket. You’ve been waiting for it to happen for months. Didn’t make much progress, though.

You shuffle out of the room, eyes still darting from one corner to another, looking for Simon, but all in vain. The man wasn’t in the cramped living room, either. Still, your eyes find his sleeping spot – right there, on the couch, a dent from his heavy body pressing the old, dusty couch pillows down, right under a messily thrown checkered blanket with some stains on it. You weren’t sure why he was still sleeping on a couch – it certainly wasn’t made to accommodate his giant form, but you didn’t question his quirks. A bedroom right across from yours was waiting for him, untouched, yet he chose to spend his nights beside the stove, on a couch too uncomfortable to get some actual sleep. You could never stop being amazed at his logic.

By the looks of it, it was already late afternoon and Simon was nowhere to be found in this cabin, a little too cold for your liking. Your eyes quickly dart towards the furnace in the middle of the room. You wrap a longer sleeve of your top around the palm of your hand, reaching out towards the handle you expected to be quite hot. Instead, you’re greeted with lukewarm metal, and underneath it, the sight of dull embers, with their blooming scarlet light generously pouring out onto the floor. Yeah, you definitely needed to add some more firewood to the pile. Or, if luck has it and the day was going to be warm, you could leave it as is. It was still winter, you had to keep that in mind, but even here in the mountains, it was much warmer than where you and Simon started your journey.

It wasn’t easy getting to the cabin, either. After that horrible day at the infested hospital, your sickness worsened, you were feverish, but thankfully, the stuff Simon grabbed from there was enough to keep your temperature down, and keep you on your feet. It also took you quite some time to let Simon out of your sight for more than a couple of minutes without breaking out into a silent crying fit, irrational fear taking over your mind completely. You…didn’t talk about it anymore, but before you found this house, it was quite tough. It still was, but not as much. Here you at least had a roof over your head, and you were warm, gifted with the spoils of the forest.

“Morning. You sure slept in today.” The door suddenly slides open, and a low, painfully familiar voice greets you, flowing through the room. You watch Simon shaking off the snow from his boots, the bag over his shoulder heavy with game, and roll on your heels, keeping yourself from running over to hug the man in greeting. How weird would that be. Simon, however, seemed to have noticed that, be it your downturned eyes, or fiddling with your fingers. So, he propped his rifle on the wall beside the door and approached you instead, affection in the form of a firm, reassuring side hug is given to you. A gloved hand rubs your shoulder and your worries melt away, even if your receiving of the gesture is quite stiff and awkward, you appreciate it nonetheless.

“Well, you know me. I’d rather be asleep than do something useful once in a while.” You say with a crooked smile, reminding him of his recent remark, which only causes the man to avert his eyes from you in an indiscernible manner. Shameful? Guilty? No, that’s ridiculous. Why would he feel something of sorts? Simon promptly let go of you, stomping towards the kitchen, silent and broody, as usual.

Your eyes follow his hands, putting the game bag on the counter, taking out his beloved knife, sharpening, methodical and slow. His motions almost hypnotize you, working at the blade with precision and care, silent in his concentration and focus. In those moments, you realized how you admired this big nuisance of a parent. You’d be gone for sure if he wasn’t there for you. He would’ve lived just the same if you weren’t there. A tear suddenly burns your eye and you rub it off in a hurried, rough motion.

“What’s for dinner?” You plop down on the counter, eyeing his back, feet dangling in the air. Not really thinking, just…enjoying the moment. Who knows, maybe in a few months you’ll have to be on the road again. It wouldn’t make sense, though. Simon told you that you’ve reached this mysterious “South” already, even if it was in mountains. So that’s well.

“Rabbit.” You nod and linger behind him, waiting for some instructions, words, a request… Anything. It went without saying that you were to help Simon around the house, he always had stuff for you to do (you weren’t quite sure how he managed to come up with all the tasks that seemed to never have an end to them), but now he was silent. Which only reinforced the uncertainty within you. Something must’ve happened. He won’t tell you, though. No way.

“I’ve been thinking…”

“What is it?” Simon’s voice cuts you off a little too rough, but you didn’t mind. He was just like that.

“Take me hunting with you, please?” You turn on your best pleading eyes, which is probably unnecessary, since the man is standing with his back turned to you. Simon is silent, giving you no response, while his knife expertly carves away at the small animal under his hands. Of course, you were used to him not talking, but for some reason, him not giving you an answer and choosing to play silent treatment scared and infuriated you all at the same time. “Da… Simon?” You call out to him, correcting yourself mid-word, poorly masking your mishap with a cough.

“This again, kid?” Simon mumbles, after letting out a heavy, weighed sigh. You didn’t know if you should feel offended or discouraged.

“What do you mean?” You gave him an incredulous expression, as if not getting what he was talking about. It was not your first time asking, and it definitely wasn’t his first time refusing to grant your request. Simon’s head turns towards you slightly, and he answers with “the look”, one he gives you when you’re being bratty or just too much. You wanted to hunt your own food. And you wanted to help him. It couldn’t have been easy, being up at five in the morning, pulling on heavy boots and dragging behind a rifle to hunt something down, but he insisted on doing it by himself.

“You damn well know what I mean. We’ve been over this over ten times.” It’s true, you asked him to take you with quite a lot, especially in the past month. Just because he said “no”, didn’t mean you couldn’t ask again. “It’s dangerous. You stay here, like I told you. Both of us have our own responsibilities. Yours just happen to be involving more of the housework, but they’re just as important as mine.” You open your mouth to respond, refute his statement and finally convince him, but he puts his finger up, already anticipating your antagonistic position. “It’s final, the discussion is over. For good.”

“But…” You’re effectively cut off by Simon’s booming voice once again.

“What’s the first rule?” He demands of you, daring you to defy him further. Your breathing is suddenly labored, heartbeat drumming in your ears. You could tell him all your opinions about him forbidding you things, all about his dismissal and overbearing behavior, but you’re silent. A minute passes, but Simon doesn’t turn around, patiently waiting for an answer from you, knife steadily carving away at a rabbit. You realize you’ve been biting back your lip so hard it started bleeding.

“Whatever you say goes.” You choke out from the depths of your chest, feeling a wild tremble within from how unfair it felt. To escape this overwhelming, strong feeling you jump down from the counter, free of your momentary paralysis, and retreat back to your room, not calm and collected in your defeat, but seething and shaky.

Deep down, you knew it was true. Up where you were living, the undead weren’t much of a problem, instead, there were quite many animals. In your time hiking the mountain you’ve heard the occasional variety of howls, yips and whatnot, saw an array of footprints left in the snow or mud, and some of them were of terrifying size. But there was no chance you’d just stumble into animals that dangerous. But more so, Simon was going on about it again. Danger. Your safety. Like you couldn’t take care of yourself. Like you were still that scared child, cowering in the corner with your cheeks stained by the tears.

You know he’s right. And you don’t want to fight. But damn you, if it didn’t feel shitty to be dismissed like that. Not even given a chance. You couldn’t help the bitterness that welled up within you at the mere notion of your lack of usefulness. You were tired of being taken care of. Not only that, but you wanted to do something for once, to help Simon. But he was stubborn as a bull, so fighting against him was like fighting against the tide of a river – fruitless and tiring.

The next reminder you get of him is a knock on your door, unsure and very quiet, unlike the man himself. Well, you’ve noticed he could be very quiet when he wanted to. More than on one occasion, he made you almost jump out of your own skin, sneaking around the cabin at night. The knock pulls you out of the state of uncertainty, almost a trance, staring at the wall with thoughts swarming inside your mind, much like a restless hive. With this uncertain knock comes an invitation to eat – you were supposed to be making dinner together today, but you…obviously skipped out on your cooking duty. Nonetheless, you accept it with some underlying reluctance lurking deep within.

“Listen, kid, I understand that you want to help out.” Simon finally drops, fed up with the silence that didn’t help the tension from the argument in the slightest. His face is uncovered, which still feels unusual, an occasion that became more frequent since the two of you managed to settle down for a while. For some reason, without that rancid balaclava, he looks vulnerable. Simon always seemed so untouchable, impervious, almost inhuman in his strength. But now, exposed like that in front of you, he looked…tired, more than anything. “I’m just…worried. I don’t want you getting hurt. One time was enough of a scare for the both of us, don’t you think?” His eyes find yours, but you don’t return his stare, eyes drilling holes in the plate of the stew on your lap.

“I know, I just…” You pause, thinking carefully about your next words. Not daring to look up from the spoon, submerged in the food. For some reason, looking at Simon right now felt like some violation of his privacy. “I don’t want to have to rely on you all the time.” You finally settle on something simple. Truthful. To the point. If he has something to say, he better be just as forward with you.

“Alright. I’ll think about bringing you with. How does that sound? Good?” Simon gives you a final verdict after a short pause, and that’s enough. Just considering an idea of you hunting together. You’re not asking for more. Simon is given a small nod from you, eyes still staring at the plate, like it was going to solve all your problems for you.

“Simon…can you be honest with me?” You finally blurt out before you can stop yourself, but it feels…right. Vulnerable and weak, and desperate for his love, his attention, his protection, but right nonetheless. How could it not be?

“I don’t know, can I?” Simon’s head tips slightly to the left, and the smile you see on his face warms you up better than any fire in the world could, even if made by his calloused, big hands, hardened by labor. You won’t ever tell him that, though. How weird would that be.

“Wow, you’re so funny, haha. Anyway.” Accompanied by your flat tone, the remarks cause the corners of his mouth to tug upright even further, but he stays silent. “You’re not really a mechanic, are you?” The look he gives you, especially with his face bare for you to see, would probably be accurate to call “deer in the headlights”. You heard him say it a long time ago, but these eyes, as big as saucers, were definitely it.

“Of course not.” Simon finally answers, shaking off the aftershock of being caught on telling a lie. It was a white lie, though. To keep you safe. Trusting. Not scared of what he was.

“Thought so.” You shrug, and Simon can’t help yet another smile. He didn’t care how you concluded that he was lying, what mattered is you saw right through him. Did him proud. He knows you were always a smart one.

“So, just for curiosity’s sake… How long has it been since you figure that out?” Simon finally asks, brown eyes finding yours once again.

“A long time. Not long after you told me, that’s for sure.”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“I used to be in the military.” Simon says with a sense of finality after a couple of minutes filled with silence. This chapter in his life will remain forever closed. There is no military anymore, no government, nothing at all that composed his life a long time ago. Only him and you, his little one that he…wants to take care of, protect. For as long as his body would allow him.

“It…makes a lot of sense, actually.” You nod along with a teasing glint in your eye. You notice Simon arch his brow at you, a silent ask to elaborate on what you mean. “You have this “sunshine and rainbows” thing going about you, that just screams “military”.”

“Yeah-yeah, laugh away at me, that’s what I’m here for.” The man waves off your ridicule with a kind-hearted, toothy grin. In the dull, orange light of the furnace, you could count each scar marring the skin of his face. Putting together a map of a life that didn’t exist anymore, one that had nothing to do with you.

“I will, thank you very much.” A comfortable silence falls over you in warm, flowing cascades, enveloping you in a pleasant feeling that would get lost on you in days of desperate hunger and cold. This, what you had here, allowed you to be…well, you. And you’d guess the Simon you had now was probably closest to what he was back when the world was not in pieces. You wondered what that Simon saw in you that day to take you in. What made him think it was a good idea, to grab a kid he didn’t know and run farther than the eye could see. At times, it was hard to crawl inside his head and try on his thoughts like that. “Hey, Simon… Why’d you save me?”

The question hit him like a damn fucking bus. Even the fact that you were questioning the reason behind it somehow made him want to ask only one question: “How could I not?”.

“Honest.” You warn the man in front of you, spoon pointing towards his chest in a bold demand.

“Honest?” Simon repeats with a heavy sigh tearing out of him. “I don’t have an answer you seek.” Simon watches your face fall, defeated. He didn’t really understand what you were trying to gouge from his psyche, yet continued, recalling his feelings when those eyes, soaked with tears, fell on him, fear and hope intertwined. “I don’t know. It was never in my plans, it just seemed right at the moment. I saw you, and right then I knew I had to protect you.” Simon answers, as honest as he could. You deserved that much.

Simon waits for an answer, an acknowledgment, anything from you, but no sound escapes your lips. You just stay silent. However, anticipating what your next question could be, he mutters, averting his eyes while making the simplest of confessions:

“I never regretted it. Not for a single moment.”

“Honest?” It is the only thing Simon hears you croak, barely audible and weak, after moments of silence that stretch for so long he’s almost sure the time stopped.

“Honest, kid. Honest.”

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whor3ing · 3 hours ago

Text

𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 | 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐

Chris Sturniolo!bf x f!reader

WARNINGS : phone sex, FaceTime, tapping it on the screen, established relationship, lots of dirty talk, mutual masturbation, mentions of breeding! mentions of spitting (in mouth) usage of “slut”

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

IN WHICH.. after a rough day and missing Chris while he’s away, What starts as playful teasing to cheer you up, quickly turns intense. Chris guides you through the heat of the moment, making the distance between you feel like nothing.

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

second tumblr post! word count : 4k ♡

Any day without Chris' arms around you late at night felt like something was missing, similar to the last piece to a nearly finished puzzle, the one that had made everything click into place.

You'd gotten used to his warmth, the way his body seemed to fit against yours so perfectly, the steady beat of his heart slowly lulling you to sleep every night without fail. Being in his arms made you feel safe, loved, and wanted. With each breath, each beat of his heart, you felt your mind grow quiet and your body relax, as if each hum of his heart was him whispering "i love you' over and over.

You knew him going on this brand deal trip had been a good idea for the channel, and you knew that it had already been planned months in advance, but missing him was hard, and missing him was painful. It was only supposed to be a few days now, but each one seemed to drag on longer than the last and it made you relentlessly question if the clock was against you, if time moved slower than it actually did.

Just the night before he had left, his arms had been curled around you and you had been resting on top of his chest, his fingers combing through your hair. Everything had been perfect, everything had felt complete. But tonight, you were alone, and it felt like the quiet of the room echoed louder than it should.

Your day at work had been a full-on nightmare—endless tasks, long hours, all of it seemed to last forever. Every email you had sent felt as if it was another weight added onto your shoulders, and every conversation felt like it had drained every ounce of energy from you. Even now, the fluorescent lights of the office still lingered in your eyes, making your head throb with a dull ache.

Usually, you would come home to Chris, the soft sound of his voice greeting you, followed by his arms pulling you into a warm embrace. He would hold you close, put on a random film and snuggle into you, his hands always wandering to your thighs. He would rub his palms on them, cursing at how soft your skin was while smiling at you, and with that, he would lean in to kiss your forehead as you would drift off.

But tonight was different. The apartment was cold without him, the sheets of your shared bed empty and frigid.

With a sigh, you pick up your phone, swiping up to enter your password.

Your thumb hovers over Chris' name in your contacts; needing to hear his voice, needing him to somehow fill the empty space in your chest, the same emptiness lingering throughout the entire apartment.

Without thinking too much, you press call.

The phone rings only twice before Chris picks up and upon the first word he speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice, immediately warm and familiar.

"Hey, sweetheart, wasn't expecting you to call so early, what's up?"

Sinking into your bed, you let out a heavy sigh, letting your gaze drift upward to the ceiling fan, its quiet hum the only other noise in your quiet apartment.

"Hey," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, the word catching in your throat. You clear your throat, trying to dislodge the lump that's formed there, and continue, "I needed to hear your voice, I miss you."

As the words leave your lips, you feel a slight tremble in your voice, something that your boyfriend, Chris would never dare to let slide.

There's a pause on the other end, and when he speaks again, his tone is softer, full of concern. "I miss you too, you alright, baby?"

You nod, even though he can’t see it, your eyes fluttering shut as you take in his warm voice. "Just… it’s been a rough day," you admit, curling into your blanket. "I can’t stop thinking about you, Chris. It’s so hard without you here."

You hear him chuckle from the other side of the phone, his voice still soft and concerned, "I wish I could be there with you right now. You know I’d make it all better, right?"

"I know," you murmur, your lips pursing. "I just miss everything about you. I miss your arms around me, I miss your smell."

He lets out a light, teasing laugh, cutting out slightly over the phone as he inhales afterward. "My smell, huh? Really, ma? You miss the way I smell?" He chuckles his laugh sweet, "You sure it’s not just my cologne you’re missing?"

You shake your head as he talks, sitting up and propping your back against your headboard, a smile finding its way onto your face. "No," you say pausing as you try to sound serious, "It's you. It's just you."

You smile as Chris lets out another laugh, his voice playful, "Well, well, aren’t you the romantic." He pauses, letting out another soft giggle. "You must really be going crazy without me, huh? Can’t even sleep without my scent on your pillow."

Without thinking you laugh, slapping your hand down onto your comforter as you giggle, "Shut up, it's not funny!"

"It’s a little funny," he teases, his voice husky. "There's that laugh I love," he murmurs.

His words settle in your chest, and a warmth spreading through you. "You’re ridiculous," the smile tugging at your lips as you talk. "But I missed you, I missed you so much."

"I know, baby, I miss you too," he murmurs, chuckling. "Maybe I should become a therapist, I should start charging you for daily sessions with how fast I brought that smile back."

You roll your eyes as you let out another small laugh, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What's the payment plan like? Not sure I can afford daily, maybe weekly."

"Depends," Chris pauses and there's a silence on the other end of the phone.

After a few seconds, a low chuckle leaves his lips. "You offering cash, or are we talking.. other forms of payment?"

You smile, licking your lips and leaning your head back to rest against the headboard. "Wow, so nasty of you to be talking like this when your brothers are god knows where."

You hear rustling for a moment over the phone before you hear Chris chuckle again, the sound absolutely adorable. "I may be a little dirty, but I'm still a gentleman," He whispers, his voice like velvet even despite the crackles of the air in the background as he speaks.

You can almost hear the heat in his voice and it burns you even through all of the distance, leaving tingles on your body as he continues, "Matt and Nick went out, some stupid costume store for a video idea. They're going to be gone for a while, and I have to admit, I'm kind of glad."

His voice drops to a low, husky tone, sending shivers down your spine. "I was thinking about you baby, and I couldn't focus on anything else."

You feel a warm blush rise to your cheeks as you hear his words through the phone, your pulse beating faster, so loud you can nearly hear it through your ears. "What were you thinking about?" You ask curiously, soft grin reaches your face and your hands begin to toy with themselves as you lay the phone on your lap to listen.

"I was thinking about how your breath hitches when I do that thing with my tongue, and how your fingers would dig into my back when I do that thing with my hands."

"How your back arches when I fuck you," He pauses, his voice exasperated. "When I tell you to keep looking me in the eyes while you take my cock in that dripping pussy of yours."

His words leave you breathless and full of desire. You can feel your face burning with heat, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your top with every word he speaks, as if his words are urging you to want him even more than you already do.

"Chris..." You whisper, his name barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I want you," you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want you so bad, Chris."

"I want you, let me see you, baby," You hear him lick his lips, his breathing just as loud as yours. Turn on your camera, can I see your pretty face?"

You smile, pressing the familiar FaceTime button, and as the camera flickers to life, you adjust yourself to fit in frame, the soft light from your room casting a glow over your features, putting them on full display for him.

Chris' camera flutters to life soon after, you see him in the corner of the screen.

The first thing you notice is his hair, tousled and messy as if he's been running his fingers through it out of habit. The soft lights of his hotel room and the sunset outside of his window catch faint golden undertones onto his skin, making him look like an absolute dream.

His jawline catches the light when he shifts slightly to look closer at you, the shadow of his stubble visible to you as a grin forms at the corners of his mouth, a grin that's just for you.

He looks absolutely perfect, in fact, you weren't even sure how a person could manage to look that good during every second of the day until you had met him.

The most amazing part? He was all yours.

His voice pulls you back to reality, warm and teasing. "See something you like, or are you just gonna keep staring, baby?"

You roll your eyes, though the blush creeping up your neck betrays you. "Oh, please," you tease. "You’re the one who wanted to see me."

Chris leans a little closer to his screen, his piercing blue eyes sharpening as he takes you all in. His eyes travel over your frame, lingering for a moment before his lips part slightly, his voice dropping just a bit. "I mean, can you blame me? Look at you."

His eyes trail over you slowly, and then he pauses, his lips curling into a smirk. "Wait a second... Is that my shirt?"

You glance down, your fingers instinctively brushing over the soft fabric, the only thing you were wearing a side from your underwear, "What if it is?" you ask, arching a brow, trying to sound casual despite the sudden flutter of your pulse in your chest.

His laughter comes easy, warm and deep. "You’re unbelievable," he mutters, but there’s something softer behind his tone. "I was wondering where that went."

Relaxing a bit, Chris leans back slightly, running a hand through his hair, but his gaze never leaves you. When he speaks again his voice is soft but teasing, "You know, you wearing my shirt like that? It's not fair."

"Fair?" you repeat, tilting your head with a playful smile. "What’s not fair about it?"

Chris sighs, tugging at his hair,"The fact that I’m sitting here wishing I could take it off you myself."

"Maybe if you were here, I’d let you," you murmur, your eyes locked onto his.

"Don’t tease me like that, baby." You watch as his tongue licks around his lips, his eyes laced with desire, "You know I’d do it in a heartbeat."

"Who’s teasing?" you reply softly, your fingers toying with the hem of the shirt. There’s a moment of silence, charged with electricity, before you meet his gaze again. "What if I took it off right now?"

Chris’s breath hitches audibly, his confidence momentarily faltering as his eyes darken. "Don’t say that if you don’t mean it," he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

Adrenaline and desire course through you as you slowly lift the hem of the shirt, just enough to tease him, right below your breasts, allowing them to peek out, just a little bit. His reaction is immediate—his eyes are glued to the screen, his jaw falling open as he takes in the sight of you. .

"Your turn," you say softly, smiling as you tease him. Your hands reach up to rub at your tits, the hem just covering your nipples.

Within an instant, Chris shuffles slightly letting the camera fall to the side of the bed. You hear the sound of fabric sliding against his skin and a moment later, he picks up the phone resting it on top of his stomach, one of his arms behind his head as he props it up to see you rubbing your tits for him.

Suddenly, he angles the camera even further down, revealing a very obvious bulge in his boxers. His boxers are tight against his cock and you feel yourself nearly drool as the outline of his hard dick is directly on display in front of you, straining against the fabric.

You watch as his fingers trail over the waistband of his boxers, teasing you just as much as you’ve been teasing him. He’s still staring at you, waiting for your next move.

Your hands move instinctively, pulling your shirt off, your tits falling out from underneath his shirt. You reach over, letting it fall to the side of the bed as you arch your back slightly, giving him a better view, as your fingertips trail across your bare chest. His eyes seem to devour you from the screen, and you know he’s getting just as impatient as you are.

You drag your fingers down your body, feeling the slight shiver of anticipation in your fingertips. The way his eyes stay locked on you makes your pulse race faster, a part of you already craving him even more. You glance, making sure he’s watching as your hand moves lower, slipping down to rub against your thighs, just as he would if he were with you.

His breath hitches as you continue rubbing yourself, the sound of his voice a low growl in your ears, even with the static from the call.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful."

His breath is hoarse as you see his hand slide down his body, down his abs as he rubs them for you through the phone, just as you would.

"I want you to take those panties off, please baby. Let me see all of you."

His words stir something deep inside you, and without thinking twice, you push your pants down, dragging them past your thighs, over your hips. Your heart races as you make sure he’s watching, feeling the weight of his gaze as you slowly expose yourself to him, piece by piece, just like a puzzle.

His eyes glisten as he watches you take them off, his mouth open, full of drool as you open your legs for him, placing the camera directly in front of your pussy.

"God, fuck. You're so fucking wet."

His words send shivers down your spine as you feel your body heat up, the anticipation of what's to come making your heart race. You watch him on the screen, his hand still rubbing his abs, his eyes locked on the camera pointed at your pussy.

"I want you to touch yourself, show me how much you want me," he murmurs as his hands slide further down his body. He smiles, angling the camera right below his bulge as he begins to rub on his v-line.

With instinct, your right hand slides up your body slowly. Your hands slide against your thighs, your stomach, all the way up to your mouth where you silently spit into your hand.

Your hand slides back down your body, your fingertips brushing against your needy clit, so wet and so wanting.

"Wish I was there, my god.. I would spit in that beautiful mouth and make you use that to rub yourself," he murmurs. Your eyes stay trained on his and on his body as he slides his boxers down, his cock springing out from under them.

His words are like a drug to you, making you even more aroused. You moan into the phone, your breath coming in short gasps. Your eyes follow his cock as he spits onto his hand in the same way, his hand sliding to hold the base of his cock.

With a small chuckle, he positions his phone to be right below it. You can see how big he is, how thick he is. He smiles, leaning his cock forward gently to tap it directly onto the camera.

The head of his cock hits the camera with a loud thud three times, you can hear how hard he is.

"Do you like what you see, baby?" he asks, his voice low and seductive as his cock stands straight up, his fingers beginning to slowly stroke against his rigid shaft.

“Do you like it when I slap this dick on this camera for you, just like how I should be slapping it against your clit while I make you cum for me with my fingers.”

He continues to tease you, slowly stroking his cock as he talks dirty to you. "I bet you wish you were here with me, don't you? Feeling my hot cum on your tongue."

His words cause you to rub your clit even faster, your hands diving into your wet folds as you watch him stroke himself.

He leans in closer to the camera, his cock just inches from the lens.

"Mmm, you're such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

He moans, biting on his lips as he watches you pleasure yourself to him. "You love watching me jerk off over the phone for you, don't you?"

He gives a slight thrust of his hips, his cock twitching in his hand. "I bet you'd love to taste it, wouldn't you? To have my cock in your mouth, down your throat, choking on it as I fuck your face."

You moan, murmuring yes a thousand times as you rub your puffy wet pussy for him, your breath hitching every second with just how good he makes you feel.

"Take your fingers and slide them into your wet pussy, baby," he moans out, his hand working magic on his cock as he strokes it even faster for you.

You can see so much precum, so much of his spit running down the sides of it with every stroke he makes. You can't help but wish that it was your spit, that his precum was deep down your throat, and looking at him, that's all you can think about.

You wish you could run your tongue against the shaft of his dick, you wish his hand could be replaced with yours. You wish it was your mouth he was fucking into instead of his hand, wishing that it was your pussy making him feel that divine.

He groans as he sees you slide your fingers inside of your pussy, smiling with his tongue over his teeth as he sees you begin to finger yourself.

You moan softly, arching your back as you push your fingers deeper into your wetness. You glance down at the phone, watching his eyes follow your every move. You can see the lust in his gaze, the desire to be with you right now.

"Oh fuck," he breathes, his voice thick with need. "I wish I was there with you."

The tip of his cock swells, his shaft hard and rigid, just aching for you, and his hand immediately picks up the pace on his cock as he imagines that your fingers inside of you is his cock instead, fucking you so deep.

"I want to fuck you so bad," he whispers, voice strained with desire. "I want to feel your tight pussy wrapped around my cock, milking me dry."

He groans, his hips thrusting forward as if he could push his cock through the screen and into you, if only it were that simple.

"I want to breed you," he whispers, his voice thick with desire as he pumps his cock with his hand, stroking it so good for you. "I want to fill your pretty pussy with my cum and make a baby with you."

“tell me you want that”

You gasp, your fingers only moving faster at the mention of having his cum inside of you, spilling out onto your thighs. "Oh god, yes Chris, I want you to breed me.” you moan, slipping your fingers out of your warmth to rub at your swollen clit again in large circles.

You can hear him taking deep breaths on the other end of the line, trying to control his voice from faltering as he rapidly strokes his cock for you. "I wish I was there with you," he says again, his voice strained.

"I would cum inside you, I would cum in you and then I would finger that pussy and rub it all over that wet clit," he moans in the middle of his talking, his voice coming out as if it was meant to be a whine.

You can feel your orgasm building, your fingers moving faster and faster on your clit as you moan louder. You moan, reaching your other hand down to finger yourself at the same exact time, "Oh god, I'm going to come, Chris please come with me," you gasp, your voice breaking.

It's as if you can almost feel him with you, his hands on your thighs holding them for you as he watches you come undone.

“No, slut. Hold it for me,” he coos suddenly.

You gasp out exasperated, your mouth quivering as you slow down your pace, trying to hold yourself together. You want to come so bad for Chris, you want to soak your sheets and scream out his name.

But he won’t let you.

You look at him pleadingly, he can see you so exposed so vulnerable as you look at him, pleading with your eyes.

“Aw, does my baby want to cum for me?” Chris’ voice is soft, as he spits into his hand, his hand slimy and wet as he slides it back onto his cock, rubbing it so fast for you.

You can hear him grunt as he urges you to continue, “I didn’t tell you to slow down. Rub that pussy, now.”

Obeying, your hands find your clit again and you rub your wetness in circles, his eyes never leaving you, moving from your cunt to your face to your tits and back again.

Your legs shake as your movements urge you closer to release, your pussy clenching, begging for his cock inside of you.

Chris nods at you, his voice whiney, “Oh fuck, ma. Oh god, put your fingers back in there for me.”

You whimper as your fingers enter you once again. Staring at his cock, you imagine that instead, it’s him entering you. Chris fucking your pussy so good, Chris in front of you pounding you into the bed.

He lets out a moan, his cock making you salivate and his noises driving you insane with how badly you crave him.

Within an instant, Chris can’t seem to hold himself anymore and instead of denying you like he loves, he’s too close to make you beg anymore.

"Come for me baby," he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open to look at you. "Come all over your pretty hands for me, yes.. God yes."

“Please, Chris,” you whimper, your voice pleading, desperate to come with him, “I need you… I need to feel you.."

"Show me how much you need me, do it slut," he moans, stroking faster. "Show me baby, let me watch you."

Chris leans forward, his lips parted as he breathes your name, his hand still gripping the phone tightly, positioning it so he can see you, and you can see him.

You move your fingers faster, harder, needing that release more than anything else. You hear him do the same, his hand moving faster, each stroke pushing him closer to his ownrelease.

"Come on, baby," he urges, his voice a low growl. "Let go for me. I want to see you fall apart, tell me you want my come.”

“I want you to come, Chris. Please come for me,” you murmur as your body starts to convulse.

You feel your whole body tense with his words, your back arching as the pleasure rips through you, your hands nearly dropping the phone as you finally come for him.

You're lost in the moment, unable to think, unable to do anything but gasp for air, your hand still between your legs as your body quivers, waiting and watching for Chris to come for you.

As promised, Chris follows right behind you, his moans louder than before, and you can hear the sound of him finishing, his voice raw with release and raw with pleasure. You watch as his come drips from the tip of his cock, begging to be licked up.

On the other end of the screen, Chris collapses back onto his bed, laying fully down, his face flushed and his hair messy, his cum all over his stomach.

"Well… that was definitely worth the wait," he murmurs, his voice warm and affectionate. "God, I wish I could kiss you, baby."

You smile to yourself, your heart fluttering at his words. "I wish you could too, Chris," you whisper back, "Come back soon, I'm dying without you here."

"Just a few more days, my love. I promise." He smiles, messing with his hair as he smiles at you. "And when I get back, I’ll take you out, wherever you want to go. Maybe a fancy dinner… or," he pauses, giving you a sly grin, "we could go somewhere more fun, like an amusement park. Y'know, so I can win you a giant teddy bear."

You can’t help but laugh at the image of him winning you a stuffed animal, and you playfully roll your eyes. "An amusement park? Really?" you tease, "You’re gonna win me a stuffed bear?"

"Yeah, absolutely. I’ll win you the biggest one, just so you can carry it around everywhere and make everyone jealous." His smile widens, a grin too big for his face. "And then, we’ll ride all the roller coasters, just to make sure you’re holding onto me the whole time."

He chuckles, throwing his head back at his own remarks.

He makes a soft kiss sound as he continues,"hey, I’m just trying to make sure you don’t fly off the ride. Somebody’s gotta keep you safe, right?" You roll your eyes, smiling at how adorable he is.

"And I think you’d be holding onto me for more reasons than just the ride."

You raise an eyebrow, your heart racing a little as you grin back at him. "Is that so?" you tease a serious undertone to your voice. "Well, maybe I’ll just hold on tight to you then, but only if you win me that bear."

"I'm gonna win you the biggest damn bear you've ever seen."

i love my cutie endings, thank you so much for reading!

as always sorry for any writing mistakes!

if anyone has any requests and likes my style of writing, please please lmk! I have lot of free time and am trying to come up with more ideas for scenarios ♡

.ೃ࿐ rafe fic "gods & monsters" otw! probably this weekend

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tired-truffle · 10 hours ago

Text

My Soul to Keep

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 2.9k

Chapter 1

Summary: "Or - and this couldn’t possibly be, well, possible - that was Viktor from Arcane, a TV show that had no right being so real. Nothing made sense and there was nothing you could do about it. You had nothing and no one. Only one thing was painfully clear; you were so fucked."

You wake up in the world of Arcane, inexplicably tied to Viktor. What will you do next?

A/N: This may be a strange concept, but I just couldn't let it go! It will be significantly less angsty than my last Viktor fic but there will of course still be some :) I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

The room was unfamiliar. Shelves of leather-bound books lined the walls, trinkets scattered around - at first glance seemingly random, but once you gave it more thought, their placement was nothing if not precise. A worn leather couch sat at the centre of the space, facing the shelves, two end tables on either side. A cozy, wine-red rug slipped beneath a coffee table stained with water rings, remnants of long-forgotten mugs. A modest kitchen sat off to your right, tiled with a plain off-white hexagonal pattern, and to your left—

A desk, cluttered with odds and ends, papers stacked high, but your gaze was drawn to the figure turned towards you.

“This…is a first,” he said carefully, the words drawn over his slightly lopsided lips. He seemed almost painted in texture, smooth lines blended together, as did all of your surroundings.

You blinked, once, twice, three times, but not once did that stop the man from resembling someone it was frankly impossible for him to resemble.

How much of your spare time - and busy, if you were honest - did he take up in the form of a daydream? They haunted you, those bright amber eyes, his mouth quirked towards the beauty mark that rested above his lip, long and thin hands resting on his cane, and - oh, look, speak of the mobility aid and it shall appear. The sleek silver cane with red and gold accents rested against the desk beside him - where he still watched you with barely concealed intrigue, and a smidge of concern.

“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat around the lump that had formed. “It’s a first for me too.”

You stood, regarding each other like you’d both spoken some form of gibberish. A beat of silence, and your antsiness could no longer stand it.

“So,” you drew out the vowel, “how did I get into your room, exactly? I assume this is your room, right?”

“You’re correct, but I unfortunately have no idea how you came to be here. One moment I was alone and the next…” He - you refused to think of his name, it couldn’t possibly be him - gestured vaguely in your direction.

“You had a random person appear in your living room,” you finished for him.

“Precisely,” he said with a swing of his arm, “though if anything, I would not have expected that person to be, ah, see-through.”

Blinking three times did nothing to help clarify that statement either. Nor did four, or even five times. But you were saved from the most unintelligent ‘huh?’ you’d ever made in your life as you glanced down at your body.

Seeing through yourself was not an experience you would have ever thought you’d get, but never say never, right? Your colours were muted, your clothes and skin entirely too…dim, blending in with the hardwood floor. With the hesitancy of someone sticking their hand into a box of unknown bugs, you slowly let your palms come to rest on your stomach - and the immense relief you felt when it was solid to your touch couldn’t be described.

Another test was in order, and with the success of the first, you figured you might as well rip the Band-Aid off. You swiped your arm at the nearest object - the back of the couch - and you went right through it as though it didn’t exist.

“What the fuck.” It felt like an understatement for the gravity of the situation you were in. “Please tell me this is a dream.”

“My leading theory was hallucination, though I have never experienced one before so I have little data to base it on. I’d be ridiculed in most academic spaces for even suggesting such a thing without empirical evidence.”

You were pretty sure you’d both lost your minds at this point - or he was a figment of your imagination reflecting your insanity. You didn’t really like either option.

“You’re, uh, surprisingly chill about all this.”

“Eh,” he shrugged, “it was bound to happen after a few sleepless nights. Such is the price of the pursuit of knowledge.”

If you were crazy, so was he. At least you weren’t alone.

“But,” he continued, “perhaps this is a sign that I should rest.”

Flipping his book closed with a definitive thud, he stood, cane balanced on his arm. He inclined his head. “You may use the couch if you’d like, but I hope for both of our sakes you’re not here come morning.”

Without further ado, he slipped past you, opening the door to what was no doubt his bedroom, and shutting it firmly behind him.

Silence rang in your ears, only interrupted by the soft shuffling sounds of him getting ready for bed.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there for - long after the light had flicked off in his room - but when you finally moved to sit on the couch, you froze again. How were you supposed to sit on it if you couldn’t touch it?

It all came crashing down around you as that realization sunk in. Biting your finger to stifle your scream, you stomped your feet like a rampaging toddler without the satisfaction of colliding with anything physical. Fucking fuck this was crazy. This couldn’t be fucking real! You were drugged or in a coma or locked in some padded room somewhere and this was your mind trying to find some escape.

Or - and this couldn’t possibly be, well, possible - that was Viktor from Arcane, a TV show that had no right being so real.

Nothing made sense and there was nothing you could do about it. You had nothing and no one.

Only one thing was painfully clear; you were so fucked.

“Ah, I see you’re still here,” Viktor’s accented voice, rough with sleep, came from behind you. “I was certain that getting some rest would solve this.”

Finding out you could float had been the only plus of your night, and you’d taken to floating above the couch. Though you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep - instead, spending your time internally freaking the fuck out - at least you could kind of fly now. You’d have to test it further, but you hadn’t been in the right headspace for it. The last thing you needed was to break down mid-flight.

You looked over your shoulder and your mouth dried out completely. Fuck, he was hot. His hair was slightly dishevelled from sleep - his shorter haircut, meaning this had to be Viktor from somewhere around the beginning of the show - skin pink and honeyed eyes bright. He wore a loose shirt that hung off his thin frame and a warm pair of fuzzy pyjama pants. He tilted his head to the side, thick brows furrowed as he watched you.

“Yup, still here.” You waved awkwardly. “I, uh, I guess I could leave, if you wanted me to. I didn’t exactly try, just kinda hoped this would all…stop.”

He frowned, considering your offer. “That’s not necessary, though you may leave if that is what you wish.”

Your shoulders lowered, having tightened without your awareness. “I’d rather not, at least until I’ve figured out what this is, exactly.”

Viktor nodded, wiping at his eyes before making his way over to the kitchen and disappearing inside.

The bubbling of a coffee machine began, and he reappeared in the doorway, leaning against it and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d offer you some, but seeing as you can’t touch it…”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” you said with a tentative smile.

Once the coffee had finished brewing, he poured himself an obnoxiously large mug, and sat on the opposite end of the couch. You watched in both horror and awe as he poured an obscene amount of sugar into the drink. He stirred it, tapped the spoon on the edge once before laying it on the very stained coffee table, and taking his first sip. He must have burned his taste buds off ages ago to tolerate coffee that hot. With a contented sigh, he turned to face you.

“Perhaps introductions would be a good place to start?” he offered, and you stared blankly at him.

“You’re Viktor,” you said before you could stop yourself. To be fair, you hadn’t exactly slept last night, and you were still inordinately frazzled from all of…this.

He raised an eyebrow. “You read my notes?”

“Uh, no, I didn’t.” You glanced at the desk, papers haphazardly spread around. He didn’t sign his name on all of them, you were sure, but you hadn’t checked.

“So you are a hallucination then.”

“I don’t think so. It’s, um, difficult to explain. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m here.”

He hummed, tapping a slender finger on his chin. “Given that I do not know your name as you know mine, would you be willing to share?”

What should have been an easy task turned out to be anything but.

You opened your mouth to speak your name, but what came out was a garbled mess of sounds, like static on a radio, but distorted and chilling. Your eyes widened in shock and you tried again, only for the same incomprehensible noise to emerge. Viktor leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concern and curiosity.

“Uh, hold on, let me try that again.”

Gathering your courage and clearing your throat, you attempted to introduce yourself one more time. To your horror, the same garbled nonsense spilled from your lips; twisted phonemes that bore no resemblance to your name. Panic began to rise in your chest, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

“Well, that was…unexpected,” Viktor said, eyebrows raised.

You would have to agree. “I... I don't understand," you stammered, your voice working perfectly fine now. "I can't say my name. It's like something’s blocking it.”

Tentatively, you raised a hand to your throat, half-expecting to feel some alien presence there. But your skin felt normal, warm and familiar beneath your fingertips.

Viktor set his coffee mug down, his full attention on you. "Fascinating," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "Can you write it?”

You nodded eagerly, relieved at the suggestion. Viktor quickly retrieved a pen and paper from his cluttered desk, holding them out to you. Your hand passed right through them, and you both stared at the items, a heavy silence falling over the room.

"Right," Viktor said, "I had forgotten about that particular complication."

You floated down to eye level with the paper, concentrating hard as you tried to will your ghostly finger to make contact with it. Nothing happened. Frustrated, you attempted to speak your name once more, but the same garbled noise came out.

Viktor's eyes lit up with the spark of scientific inquiry. "Perhaps we could try something else. Can you spell it out loud?"

You nodded, hope rising and pricking at your tongue. "Okay, the first letter is-" But as soon as you tried to say the letter, your voice turned into that same garbled static. Your face fell, your hands dropping into your lap.

“How are you at charades?” Viktor offered. You perked up, surely that would work. Charades seemed like a foolproof solution. With renewed determination, you raised your hands, ready to mime out the first letter of your name.

But as you attempted to form the shape, your arms suddenly felt like lead weights. They refused to budge, hanging uselessly at your sides. Confusion and frustration bubbled up inside you as you strained against the invisible force holding you back.

Undeterred, you tried again, this time focusing on tracing the letter in the air with your finger. Yet the moment your hand began to move with purpose, it froze mid-motion, as if caught in a bear trap. No matter how hard you willed it, your finger wouldn't budge an inch.

Viktor leaned forward, his eyes sharp with fascination. At least this was entertaining one of you. "What's happening?"

"I…I can't move," you said, your words tinged with panic. "Every time I try to spell out my name, it's like something's blocking me."

You made another attempt, this time trying to point to objects that began with the same letters. But as soon as you began, your hand froze, suspended in the air like a statue. The sensation was bizarre - you could still feel, still think, but your body simply refused to obey your commands.

After a few seconds, the paralysis faded, and you slumped in defeat. "It's no use," you sighed, only one last idea remaining. “Can you lip-read?”

“Not when your lips are covered by…some sort of mist?”

What.

“Where’s your bathroom?” you asked with the sudden urgency of someone who desperately had to pee - but you weren’t sure you needed to pee at all in this state.

He inclined his head towards the bedroom. “Through there.”

You’d meant to thank him, but in your rush to get to a mirror, you weren’t sure if it was audible.

Floating through the couch and to the bedroom door, you vaguely acknowledged his perfectly made bed and sparse belongings, and entered the open washroom.

The lights were frustratingly off, and no matter how many times you passed your spectral hand through the switch, it refused to budge. That was going to get old very quickly. The morning sun shining through the bedroom window was all the illumination you were going to get, and it would have to do.

You peered into the mirror, your heart pounding with anticipation. The reflection that greeted you was both familiar and utterly alien. You were translucent - though you knew this already - the tiles of the bathroom wall visible through your ghostly silhouette. Despite the ethereal quality of your appearance, you looked surprisingly normal - just tired and a bit worse for wear after your sleepless night. At least you weren't a vampire, though that hadn’t been at the top of your list.

Leaning closer to the mirror, you attempted to say your name once more. To your horror, as soon as you opened your mouth, a dark grey mist materialized, obscuring your lips entirely. The warbling static filled your ears, and you stumbled back, your incorporeal form passing through the shower bathtub combo.

"What the fuck," you whispered, your voice thankfully clear when not attempting to identify yourself. You raised a trembling hand to your mouth, but felt nothing unusual - the mist seemed to exist only in your reflection.

Dread left a sour taste on the back of your tongue. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths you weren't sure you needed in this state. The familiar technique helped ground you, even if the air didn't quite fill your lungs the way it should.

Once you’d fought back the panic, you gathered yourself, smoothing down your clothes out of habit more than necessity. You had to face this rationally. Freaking out wouldn't solve anything, and you had a brilliant scientist waiting to help you figure this out - at least you’d managed to intrigue him.

With one last glance at your reflection, you turned and floated back through the bedroom.

You emerged into the living room, where Viktor sat waiting, his long fingers wrapped around a fresh cup of coffee.

"Well," you said, trying to inject some levity into your voice but failing miserably, "I can confirm that whatever's stopping me from saying my name is visible in the mirror. It's like some kind of weird, real-time censorship."

“It’s most unusual,” Viktor remarked. “If you are a hallucination, then why would my psyche refuse to give you a name?”

“I’m not a hallucination.” You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just a person who’s been dropped into a universe that should not exist and for some godforsaken reason I’m a fucking ghost!”

Viktor stared blankly at you and you could see the gears turning in his head. “A universe that should not exist—“

But before he could continue that line of questioning, an alarm rang out from the bedroom. Viktor sighed heavily, downing the rest of his horrifically over-sugared coffee in one gulp, and stood up.

“That is my signal, if I do not depart soon, Professor Heimerdinger will be most displeased with my tardiness.” Viktor made his way towards the bedroom and you clenched your jaw. “However, I would be interested in continuing this conversation when I return - if you are still here.”

“Sure,” you offered halfheartedly.

“Then I look forward to it,” Viktor said with a small bow of his head. He disappeared back into the bedroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more.

What had happened before you arrived here? Try as you might, you couldn't remember anything specific. It was as if your memories before materializing in this room were shrouded in the same misty darkness that obscured your name. Everything about your life seemed intact, except for what happened after you’d…fallen asleep?

Were you in some kind of coma, your consciousness projected into this fictional world? Or had you somehow slipped through the cracks of reality, tumbling into a universe that wasn’t your own?

Each possibility seemed more far-fetched than the last, yet there you were, a translucent spectre floating in the home of a character who should have been nothing more than pixels on a screen. How often had you wished he was real? Too many to count, to be sure, but you hadn’t meant it like this. To be stripped of everything you’ve ever known, your home, the people you loved, and carted off to a strange new world was disconcerting, to say the least.

But you’d have to go with it for now. What else could you do? Mope and cry in despair, probably, but that wouldn’t fix your problem. First things first, you had to figure out when you were. From there…well, that was future you’s problem.

A/N: How many times can I write 'fuck' in this chapter and not have it be too much? Who knows!

Updates for the fic will be once a month until I'm done with my dragon age long fic, see you all soon!

If you'd like to be tagged in future updates, let me know :)

#isekai #fem reader #reader insert #reader goes to world #no use of y/n #eventual smut #fluff #falling in love #viktor x you #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #viktor x reader

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skyrim-forever · 2 days ago

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So doing the baby meme thing got me thinking. What if Ondolemar found out Theodora was pregnant with his child while they were still seeing each other in Markarth? Just woke up one morning threw up beside his bed, she goes to Whiterun to get checked and BAM lil baby Arthano making an appearance in her tummy early! Because you know he was just so excited about popping his head out. Totally ready to be the next Arena champion. What kind of drama would ensue? Would Theodora even tell Ondolemar about it, given their current roles? How would Ondolemar feel sitting in his office or pacing Understone Keep knowing that Theodora was out there carrying his child? I NEED THE GOSSIP!!

Hi friend <3 Thank you so much for this ask this is a really interesting question. Unfortunately I can't see a scenario in which they would keep the baby because there are two ways it could happen.

Earlier on before they admit their feelings, if Theodora found out she would have a ~~fantasy abortion~~ and not tell him. They aren't in a relationship, owe each other nothing so it would be an "oops!" and then she'd be super careful. As their feelings came out she would tell him and he'd be very practical about it. That was the reasonable solution to falling pregnant in this type of arrangement. No hard feelings on his end.

It would happen after they had their love confession in Windhelm (chapter 1 is out here hehe shameless plug) in which case it would be the same outcome. This time done for the fact their isn't really any other option, she's got to fight Alduin, he has his duties. As long as she has to be in Skyrim she wouldn't be able to hide it, and then once its here, what do they do?

I was inspired to write this second scenario as that will explain it better. Under cut because sad :( and long this is 1100 OOPS

Ondolemar made it a point to work now, try to get something done while he still could. His love had scarcely eaten last night and was sprung from the bed early this morning with some foul sickness, retching into what she could find. The empty barrel had been something he meant to get rid of anyways. Theodora left to go see the Alchemist in town in hopes she could provide her answer as to what was afflicting her. She suspected some sort of stomach flu and if that was the case, he would likely come down with it too. Best work now until she returns with more information.

Once she is gone for more than an hour he begins to worry. Running through his mind are fears it could be something more serious, something contracted on the road, an internal injury as she insisted on healing herself whenever possible; the fact they both drank heavily was not helping. The woman drank to be drunk where as he consumed casually throughout the day, it felt a bit better even if in reality it was comparable. As it’s nearing hour two, she comes back to him. Abandoning his work, he walks over to her, speaking just after the dwarven doors close.

“You were gone for longer than I anticipated, I trust she found something? Are you going to be alright?” Her hands extend and he welcomes them gladly, trying to pull her in closer but she stays standing on her own.

“I also wasn’t expecting to be gone that long either, but the alchemist has a strong suspicion.”

“That is good, what does she think? I hope it is not Bone Break Fever, absolutely a nasty disease that is. Do you feel weak?” She smiles meekly.

“A bit but that’s not it.” Noticeably her eyes fall to the floor. “I won’t know for certain until I speak with the healer, Danica Pure-Spring at the Temple in Whiterun but…” All the way to Whiterun what could possibly require such a trip? Any ideas as to what could be that serious are interrupted with the reveal. “I may be pregnant.” Oh. “And if I am then I will also take care of that at the Temple as well.”

Ondolemar did not mean to be silent for so long, regretting that he retreated inward to grapple with this information rather than immediately comfort her. Regretting even more now that she apologizes.

“I’m sorry, normally I’m very good about-” He remedies the silence by bringing her to his chest, no resistance from her as she falls against him. Hand rubbing her back and the other smoothing her hair, he speaks.

“No no, you have nothing to be sorry for, famously it cannot be done alone.” A weak attempt at humour but she does laugh, before the sobbing begins; anguished like he’s never heard her before. Hoping to never hear it again. Knowing there's nothing he can say at this moment, the intensity can not be healed with words, demanding to be felt, that is what he does. Let her cry against him until she can muster the words, chastising herself in anger now.

“Fuck, why am I crying? I’ve never considered having children before so why does it matter? Why do I feel so…” The question ends abruptly with another wail.

He had thought of having a family someday, long ago when he was much younger. The plan had been to throw himself into work, advance the family’s standing, then and only then would he let his mother work with the matchmaker and get on with the decades long progress to get married as an Altmer. But there was always more work to do, longer hours, more travel. Before he knew it the decades slipped by, casual relationships here and there but never entering into the formal process of courtship. Mostly with other agents, they were who he was around the most and thus were deeply familiar with the strict schedules under the Dominion. Seeing his sister wed had made him content, she found a nice, respectable man from a scholarly family in Skywatch. There were times he tried to rationalize with himself it was for the best. Whether or not he enjoyed it aside, he was a soldier first and foremost, the nature of a soldier is to be sent far from home. No point in having a family if he would not be able to see them, nor would he ask her to keep it as she was making the logical choice. There is her fated battle on the horizon, the matter of his position, as well as the purges conducted where there was higher density of mixed man-mer ancestry. What would he ask her, doom yourself to a life of hiding and single motherhood as he cannot follow because he loves her? Because sometimes he did imagine leaving his post, finding some way to flee from the Thalmor’s gasp and shed that which he cannot entirely believe. Tempted to do it even as he wished they lived in a better world and is curious if she has had similar thoughts.

His thumbs gently wipe away her tears, as best he can, while cradling her face.

“It is a serious situation, Theodora. You’re having a normal reaction regardless, let alone under our circumstances.” She nods and he places a kiss on her forehead, before gauging the situation.

“Do you want to keep it?”

“It’s not a matter of if either of us wants to, we can’t. Even if I could hide it the whole time, fight Alduin and manage to survive despite being who knows how pregnant,” A pained sigh as she is blunt with him on something which he knows to be true. “And unless it comes out looking identical to me, I’ll only be able to lie so much. Questions would be asked, Ondolemar. Nevermind if I tried to bring them around you in any capacity, how soon would it take someone to put things together, how fast would the hammer slam down on you?” Gods, she is right but that doesn’t stop the sting.

“I know, I know.” Leaning down for another kiss on her forehead, hands instead wrapping around her torso in a loose grip as she rests her head tilting upwards, clear view of the redness sin her eyes and the change in her skin tone. Red and puffing from the mental ache.

“If I were to have children though I’d want you to be their father.”

“They could have no one better as a mother than you.”

“I love you, Ondolemar.”

“And I love you, Theodora.”

#asks #my asks #oc: theodora #theomar #abortion mention #but like fictional #im sorry this is so sad #i just can see a world in which they would have the kid while there was both alduin and his position #tw: pregnancy

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