#this took me way too long pfft

[eelliotss]

— Borrowed time, part 1

‼️Caleb x reader. Reader not MC. University AU. Modern AU. Angst angst angst!

Everyone knows Caleb is in love with MC. Everyone. Including you. But that does not stop him from flirting with you, teasing you, keeping you close. And it definitely doesn’t stop you from falling for him—even when you know you’re just a stand-in, a place holder.

“Can’t we just enjoy the moment without making things complicated?”

word count = 5.3k

i poured my soul into this pls be kind 😭

part 2

The fresh scent of flowers lingered in the air as a cool breeze rushed past you. You tucked your hair behind your ear, gripped your bag tighter, and glanced at the university entrance.

A nervous breath escaped your lips. “Here we go.”

Laughter and chatter filled the air, students scattered across the school grounds. Some waved goodbye to their parents, celebrating their child’s first day at the country’s top university. Others rushed toward their friends, voices overlapping in a symphony of excitement.

“Do you even know the way to your class?” a concerned voice rang out.

“Pfft. Pa-lease! I can find my way around on my own,” the other answered confidently. “You, on the other hand, should not be late to your class, up-per-class-man.” She jabbed a finger into his chest, punctuating each syllable.

His laugh overtook all the others in the area. “Right, right. Text me when you get to your class, pipsqueak.” He smiled and ruffled her hair.

“Ugh! You’re messing up my hair!” she groaned, swatting his hand away.

She pushed him—harder than she realized.

A sudden force knocked into you, sending you off balance. Your stomach lurched—before you could hit the ground, strong arms caught you, steadying you in place. A shriek escaped your lips.

“I’m so sorry!” he blurted out, pulling back just as quickly.

You pushed him off, steadying yourself, ignoring the faint trace of his cologne still lingering in the air.

“Oh my god, I didn’t see you!” A girl rushed forward, grabbing your hands like she’d known you forever. Her enthusiasm pierced through your ears, but her wide-eyed concern softened the frustration building in your chest.

“Are you okay? That was my fault!”

Your eyes met hers—bright, warm, and completely sincere.

“…Yeah, I’m fine.” The irritation dissolved as you took in her worried expression. “It’s okay.”

She beamed, relief washing over her. “I’m Michaela. What’s your name?”

It was history from then on.

•

You found out she was in the same year and major as you, and you became best friends almost instantly. Naturally, that meant getting close to him too—Caleb, as he introduced himself.

You also learned that you shared the same minor with him, so despite everything, you’d be seeing him in class.

It is another mundane day. You get to class and put your bag down on a seat, plopping your body down on the chair. A sigh leaves your lips as you look at your phone to check the time.

8:45. Having a class this early should be illegal.

You put your earphones on, hushing the quiet of the room with a faint song. You close your eyes as you wait for the others to reach.

“You’re early, kiddo,” his hand on your head pull you out of your daze. Your eyes shoot open and is met by a large yawn.

“I cant afford to be late again. I’m one mark away from failing the morning classes,” you groan as you tug off your earphones.

A sheepish smile tugs at his lips as his hand lingers a little too long in your hair, ruffling it just enough to mess it up before pulling back—slowly, like he enjoys the way it falls back into place.

He settles into the seat next to you, elbow propped against the desk, body angled toward yours.

“You need someone to wake you up in the morning?” he teases, his voice dipping just enough to make it sound like an offer.

“Are you offering?” you tilt your head, raising a brow.

Caleb grins, lazy and amused. “I wouldn’t want my shortcake failing a class I’m in,” he muses, tapping a knuckle lightly under your chin. The touch is fleeting, barely there, but enough to make your breath hitch. “Who else would I have to mess with?”

You’re used to the nickname he has given you now. It used to annoy the shit out of you, how he used to tease about you being below his shoulders or how you have to tiptoe to reach for something— shortcake, that’s where the name came from. You scoff, swatting his hand away. “Wow, I feel so valued.”

He chuckles, low and effortless, settling into his seat. “You should. I don’t just give my attention to anyone, y’know.”

“Oh? So I’m special?” You flash him a smug look, crossing your arms.

Caleb tilts his head, pretending to consider it. “Mmm… yeah, let’s call it that.”

He leans in just slightly, just enough to invade your space but not quite touch. His lips quirk up as he lowers his voice just for you to hear.

“…Or maybe I just like how cute you look when you get all flustered.”

You blink, heat creeping up your neck, but you refuse to let him win.

“So you admit it,” you say, keeping your tone light and teasing. “You think I’m cute.”

Caleb laughs, leaning back like he’s completely unbothered. “Shortcake, I’ve been saying that since day one. Keep up.”

His confidence is so insufferable you can’t help but roll your eyes. “God, I feel bad for all the freshmen falling for your charm.”

“Falling for it?” He raises a brow, smirking. “You say that like you’re not included, sweetheart.”

The nickname makes your stomach do a stupid little flip, but you mask it with a scoff. “Please, I’m completely immune to your antics.”

“Uh-huh.” Caleb leans in again, resting an elbow on the desk while watching you like he’s amused by a private joke. “Is that why your ears are turning red?”

Your hand immediately flies to your ear, and Caleb bursts out laughing.

“Wow,” you deadpan. “Upperclassmen really are the worst.”

“Aww, but I’m your favorite, aren’t I?” He tilts his head, smiling like he already knows the answer.

You roll your eyes at him. “Your confidence is getting to your head.”

Caleb’s hearty laugh fills the room, his presence naturally drawing attention. More students trickle in, filling the seats, and as expected, the weight of lingering gazes settles around you.

The girls steal quick glances at the man beside you, their whispers barely concealed. The boys, on the other hand, greet Caleb with easy familiarity, taking their places around him like it’s second nature.

It’s nothing new. You’re used to it.

“Hey, Yn,” a voice cuts through the chatter.

You glance over as Matt slides into the seat beside you, grinning.

“Hey, Matt,” you reply, offering a small smile.

“You coming to the party tomorrow?” he asks, leaning in just enough that you catch the faint scent of his cologne.

Before you can answer, Caleb hums beside you, loud enough to interrupt.

“What party?” he asks, resting an arm on the back of your chair like he’s settling in for the conversation.

Matt glances at him, unfazed. “The one at James’ place. Pretty much everyone’s going.”

Caleb nods slowly, then shifts his gaze to you, eyes twinkling with amusement. “And here I thought shortcake wasn’t the party type.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “I can be fun.”

“Oh, yeah?” Caleb smirks, tapping a lazy rhythm against the desk. “Guess I’ll have to see it for myself, then.”

You raise a brow. “Wait—are you going?”

Caleb shrugs, his smirk never faltering. “Wouldn’t want my shortcake getting lost in the crowd, would I?”

Matt laughs, shaking his head. “Man, you’re acting like she needs a babysitter.”

Caleb tilts his head, looking at you like he’s thinking about something. Then, with obnoxious ease, he says, “Nah, just wouldn’t want her getting scooped up by some guy with bad intentions.”

Matt raises a brow. “And what, you’ve got good intentions?”

Caleb grins. “Not at all. But at least she knows mine.”

The room erupts in laughter, but your heart stumbles over itself for half a second.

Because there’s something about the way he says it—like it’s a joke, but not entirely.

You roll your eyes, forcing a smirk. “Right. So you’re just going for me, huh?”

Caleb doesn’t even blink. “Why do you look surprised?”

And maybe it’s just your imagination, but for a moment, his gaze lingers, just a second too long.

Matt scoffs, turning his attention to the professor entering the room. “Text me once you’ve made your mind, Yn.”

“Sure,” you answer, unaware of the furrow crawling its way up Caleb’s face. However, you don’t miss the way Caleb’s fingers stop their lazy tapping against the desk.

The class went by agonizingly slowly. You twirl your pen in your hands, scribbling stuff down to keep yourself from knocking out. The next thing you know, you feel a poke on your cheeks.

“You better get up before people see your drool,” Caleb smirks.

You quickly covered your face and wipe off the drool as Caleb laughs. You furrow your brows, feeling the embarrassment crawling up your face.

“I didn’t drool!”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say, shortcake,” he chuckles.

You both left for your next classes and the day quickly came to an end.

•

“You going to the party tomorrow?” You ask MC as you walk out of the campus.

She ponders for a second before answering, “Nah. I’m not big on parties and have so much work piling up,” she whines. “You should go, though! Have fun for both of us.”

Her sheepish smile never fails to bring one to your face as well. “I’m still deciding too.”

MC suddenly stops in her tracks, an excited gleam sparkles in her eyes.

“Are you free today, though?”

“Yeah… Why?” You suspiciously eye her.

Before you know it, you are at the mall, arms linked with hers as she weaves through the racks of clothes. “I just need one dress,” she says. “Fifteen minutes, tops.”

You should’ve known better.

It’s been forty five minutes and counting.

You dont mind, really. Shopping with her is familiar, easy. She’s the type to hold up dresses in front of you and make you spin for her, laughing as she debates which colour would fit her best.

And then her phone buzzes.

As soon as she unlocks it, her smile grows wider.

You dont even have to ask who it is.

She taps on her phone, giggles, and shoves her phone in your face.

Caleb [5:36 PM]: wya?

MC [5:37 PM]: Shopping. Why?

Caleb [5:37 PM]: Need me to carry your stuff? ;)

MC [5:37 PM]: You know me too well

“Caleb’s coming,” she beams.

You nod. It isn’t really anything out of the ordinary.

Unsurprisingly, a few minutes later, he’s here.

He slides into the store like he belongs there, like he already knew exactly where MC would be.

“Alright,” he sighs, grabbing the bags from her hands with ease. “What am I hauling this time?”

MC beams at him, poking his side. “A gentleman and a mind-reader. No wonder all the girls want you.”

The Caleb smirks, like it’s a well-worn joke between them. The joke mirrors the one you had with him this morning. But somehow, the interaction feels much… different.

Deeper. Warmer.

Like it belongs to them.

You watch as MC doesn’t hesitate to press a dress against Caleb’s chest, measuring the colour against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t joke, doesn’t make a big deal out of it.

Like it’s always been this way.

Just like the way he doesn’t just carry her bags— he takes them before she even asks. The way he doesn’t just respond— he already knows what she’ll say. The way she doesn’t have to tease to get a reaction— he’s already looking at her like she’s the only thing in the room.

And you— watching. Like you always do.

Eventually, MC disappears into the dressing room, leaving you and Caleb alone.

“Having fun?” Caleb drawls, lazily shifting the shopping bags in his hands. His gaze falling onto you for the first time this evening.

You huff, crossing your arms. “Oh, the best time. Watching you two be so disgustingly in sync is exactly how I wanted to spend my evening,” you joke. But somehow, it stings a little.

Caleb laughs, light and amused. “What, jealous I didn’t offer to carry your stuff too?”

You raise a brow, feigning thoughtfulness. “Maybe I just wanna see if I get the same VIP treatment.”

His smirk wides, “You want me to spoil you, shortcake? Should’ve just said so.”

It’s easy, the way he flirts with you. But it’s just that— easy.

MC steps out of the dressing room, and immediately— probably unconsciously too— he straightens.

“Thoughts?” she twirls.

“Get it.” His response is instant.

MC laughs. “What do you think, Yn?”

You smile, pushing the uneasiness down. “You’re pretty in everything you wear, MC.”

“You got a good eye, Yn,” Caleb adds, his eyes never leaving her. “It looks good on you.”

The warmth in his voice is undeniable.

It’s the way he doesn’t say it playfully, doesn’t throw in a teasing nickname, doesn’t smirk.

It’s the way you fall into the background.

The ride home was unbearably normal. MC chats away about weekend plans, upcoming assignments, something funny she saw on TikTok.

Caleb hums along, adding in a sarcastic comment here and there. His eyes are glued on the road sparing a few glances her way.

You sit at the back seat, nodding at the right moments, but your mind is already made up.

You need a break. From this. From them.

From him.

So when you see Matt’s notification—

Matt [7:03 PM]: You coming tmr?

You don’t even hesitate.

You [7:24 PM]: Yeah

•

The bass thumps against your chest the moment you step inside. The air is thick with laughter, sweat, and the sharp bite of alcohol.

You exhale, rolling your shoulders back.

You’re here to forget.

Forget the way he looks at MC like she’s his entire world. Forget the way your own heart stupidly flips when he looks at you.

“Yn! You finally show up!” Matt calls out to you as you maneuver through the thick crowd, pulling you into the group he is in.

“Guys, this is Yn,” he introduced you to the group. “Hi!” you shout through the music, a nervous smile crawls up your face.

You’re not used to this setting— the alcohol, the mingles, the thumping of music, the proximity, the lights and colours. Every thing is making you drunk, even before you’ve touched any alcohol.

One of the guys whistles. “Oh! You’re that third wheel between Caleb and Michaela!”

Hah.

The third wheel.

“Forget it, we’re here to have fun tonight!” someone else chirped in as he handed you a drink. You’re not sure what it is— it’s not like you care anyways.

“Yeah,” I force a smile as you drown the drink. The alcohol stings your breath, its heat slowly goes down your chest. You slowly exhale, welcoming the warmth that spreads through you.

The alcohol burns, but it’s a different kind of ache—one that numbs instead of sharpens. It’s exactly what you need.

You roll your shoulders back, forcing yourself to relax.

Forget it. Forget him.

The music pounds through your veins as Matt laughs beside you, clinking his drink against yours. “That’s the spirit.” He’s a bit too close. You can feel his body pressed against yours.

But maybe thats what you want right now.

You let yourself sink into the noise, the bodies moving around you, the way everything blurs at the edges. Someone pulls you into a conversation, another offers you another drink, and soon enough, you’re laughing at something you barely even hear. Bodies push and pull, you sway with the beats, lost in the moment, the lights, the colours, the intoxication.

For the first time in a while, you almost feel—

“You didn’t tell me you were coming, shortcake.”

Your stomach drops.

That voice—smooth, amused, effortlessly familiar.

Your entire body tenses before you even turn around.

And when you do, there he is.

Caleb.

Standing way too close, a drink in one hand, the other shoved lazily into his pocket. His hair is slightly tousled, his sleeveless shirt making it impossible not to notice the way his toned arms shift as he leans in.

But none of that matters.

Because Caleb doesn’t go to these parties.

Everyone knows that.

And yet—he’s here.

Your jaw tightens as you glance at him, forcing a smirk. “Didn’t think you liked these things.

He grins. “I don’t.”

Your brows knit together. “Then what are you doing here?”

He hums, taking a slow sip of his drink before tilting his head at you. “What do you think?”

Your grip tightens around your cup.

He’s messing with you. Like always.

And you should ignore it, should walk away before you let him ruin this night for you—

But you don’t.

You can’t.

Instead, you match his energy, your own lips curling into a smirk.

“Well, hope you’re not expecting me to entertain you,” you quip, voice light, teasing. “I’m actually busy.”

“Busy, huh?” He raises a brow, clearly amused. His gaze flickers past you, scanning the group you came with.

Your pulse quickens.

He’s not jealous. You know that.

But the way his eyes narrow just slightly, the way he lingers—like he’s assessing something, calculating something—

It almost feels like he is.

And for some stupid, reckless reason, you want to test it.

So you shrug, taking another sip of your drink. “Yeah. Matt has been real good company today.”

Caleb’s laugh is slow, deep, and entirely too amused.

“Interesting,” he repeats, nodding slightly. “Guess that means I should try harder, huh?”

Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the music.

“Caleb!”

A girl stumbles forward, eyes wide. “Oh my god, I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

Heads start turning. More people flock toward him, pulling him into their circle.

And just like that—you’re being pushed back.

You watch as Caleb greets them with that easy, sheepish grin—the one that makes everything look so effortless. The crowd bombards him with the same teasing remarks as always.

“Damn, what happened? Where’s your girl tonight?”

They don’t need to say her name. Everyone knows.

MC.

She’s not here. And somehow, Caleb being here without her is more surprising than him being here at all.

But he doesn’t seem bothered. He just chuckles, shaking his head.

“She doesn’t need me today.”

The words shouldn’t mean anything. But they do.

But before you can even process it, his gaze shifts and

Lands on you.

And his next words knock the breath from your lungs.

“Besides,” Caleb muses, voice light, playful, teasing— “Someone else probably needs me more right now.”

The crowd erupts.

“Ooooh, damn! Who’s the unlucky girl getting swept off her feet while your girl isn’t here to keep you in check?”

Caleb’s smile grows. Slowly, lazily.

He tilts his head, feigning innocence.

“What do you mean, unlucky?”

They laugh. They cheer.

You stand there, watching, feeling every single emotion crash into you at once.

Because they’re joking. Because he’s joking.

But somehow, you cannot muster a smile up your face.

He probably saw your face, or the look in your eyes, or probably the way your lips seem to tense a bit more.

He quickly finishes the drink in his hand, and someone quickly hands him another.

“Thanks,” he flashes a warm smile to the girl who hands him the drink as he reaches for it, brushing his hands softly against hers.

She’d probably replay the scene over and over for the next week.

His eyes finds yours once more before swiftly slipping out of the group of people.

You quickly turn away, desperate to vanish somewhere.

Anywhere.

Today was supposed to be a day without him.

However, your body betrays you. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, perhaps it’s the lingering sting of his gaze, perhaps it’s just him. The world tilts, and before you can catch yourself—

A strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his chest and stabling you on your feet.

“How many drinks have you had?” His voice low, edged with amusement, but there’s something else in it, something almost concerned.

You barely process his words because his chest is against yours, his breath warm against your temple.

You exhale, hands instinctively gripping his shirt as you try to steady yourself— not just from the dizziness, but from everything else.

Too close. He’s too close.

And he knows it.

His grip doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens, his fingers pressing just slightly against the curve of your waist.

“You good?” he murmurs, voice dropping just a little lower.

You swallow, ignoring the way your heart pounds against your ribs.

“I’m fine,” you manage, but your voice betrays you— it’s softer, breathier than you meant it to be.

Caleb smirks.

“That so?”

He doesn’t let go.

Instead, he leans in just a fraction closer, eyes flickering down—to your lips, to the way your breath hitches.

It’s a game. You both know it’s a game.

“I heard people say you were looking for a distraction,” his voice dips, low and deliberate. His fingers trail lightly along your spine, just enough to make you shiver.

“Was Matt a good distraction?”

A pause.

His thumb brushes against your hip.

“Or do you want something more… intoxicating?”

Your breath catches.

All you can feel is the thumping of your heart against your ears, his low voice teasing your pulse, his warmth consuming you.

“I see the way you react to me,” he murmurs.

His fingers tighten, pulling you closer, his lips barely grazing your ear now.

“The distraction you want… it’s a distraction from me, isn’t it?”

His hand trails up, brushing the exposed skin of your arm.

“You don’t have to say it,” he muses, eyes glinting.

Your hands clutch at his shirt, unsteady, breathless.

“You like this, don’t you?” Caleb murmurs, his voice impossibly smooth, seductive.

Your throat tightens, but you don’t pull away.

You don’t deny it.

You can’t.

And he smirks, because he knows.

“Good.” His lips ghost over the curve of your jaw, not quite kissing, just enough to tease.

“Because I like yours too.”

His voice dips lower, slower— almost like a confession.

The world spins, but this time, it’s not from the alcohol.

Your grip on his shirt becomes tighter, if it’s even possible. He leans even closer, his breath warm against your lips, hovering— teasing, testing, waiting.

For you to pull away.

For you to stop him.

But you don’t.

You close your eyes, letting him consume you. He closes the distance his lips pressing into yours with slow, unhurried intent. There’s no rush, no urgency— just a deliberate pull, like he wants you to feel every second of it.

His hand on your waist tightens, fingers digging in just enough to make your breath catch. His other hand finds the curve of your jaw, tilting your face up, deepening the kiss like he’s memorizing the shape of your lips.

He moves— presses deeper, pulls you closer—

And deliberately, it turns hungrier. Slow, but consuming.

Like he’s claiming you— if only for this moment.

His teeth graze your bottom lip, a light tug, a silent dare.

Your fingers snake to the crevice of his neck, pulling him in like you don’t want this to end.

You somehow find a way to a secluded corner, and he pushes your back against the wall. He rests his arm on the side of your head, balancing his weight on the wall as his other hand rests protectively at your waist. His lips leave yours, trailing kisses down your neck. His teeth grazes your skin, earning gasps and small involuntary noises from you.

His lips drag along your pulse, slow and teasing, a deliberate contrast to the heat pooling between you.

You don’t even realize your fingers are tugging his hair, clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you steady.

Caleb chuckles against your skin, the sound low, smug— satisfied.

“You sound so sweet,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the spot just below your jaws.

“Caleb…” you breathe. “What does this mean?” The air suddenly turn thick as the words slip out before you can stop them.

Maybe it’s because you don’t want to believe that the one towering you right now is simply using you as a distraction from the girl he longs for. Maybe it’s because you want to hear an answer that would put the pit in your stomach at bay. Maybe you want to hear a lie that’ll at least make this moment feel more real. Or maybe you’re just too drunk on everything.

You swallow. “What are we?”

You feel his smirk against your skin before he nips at it, just enough to make your breath hitch.

His hand on your waist tightens, grounding you, holding you in place as he trails even lower. Then he exhales a quiet laugh— low, breathy, like you’ve asked something ridiculous.

His lips brush your ear.

“Why do we have to be anything?”

He leans back just enough to look at you, and there’s something in his eyes— something unreadable, something you wish you could hold onto.

“Isn’t this enough?”

His fingers trail up your arm, slow, lazy, desperate. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

Your breath catches.

His thumb strokes along your jaw, coaxing you, soothing you. “I know you like this,” he murmurs, his voice a slow, dangerous drawl.

And then—he smiles.

That same playful, easy, charming smile.

Like this is just another game.

Like it isn’t breaking you apart.

“Just enjoy it, shortcake.”

He kisses you again before you can respond.

“Don’t over complicate things.”

You should say something, you should fire back—

But then he sucks at the sensitive skin near your collarbone, and all that escapes you is a sharp gasp.

He chuckles again, pleased. “That’s what I thought.”

His hand slides up your side, slow, lingering—like he enjoys the way your body reacts to him.

Like he enjoys this.

And somehow, that’s what makes your stomach tighten the most—

Not just his touch, or his lips, or the way he’s holding you like he doesn’t want to let go—

But the way he seems to want this as much as you do.

Like for once, he’s here with you.

Not her.

You let that thought sink in, drown in it, just for tonight.

Because tomorrow, this moment won’t exist.

But then, the dream came to an abrupt pause.

PING

The sound cuts through the haze, through the heat, through everything. Caleb stops whatever he was doing. His hands leave your body, his warmth fades, leaving you a breathless mess against the wall.

He exhales, sweeping his hair back as he pulls out his phone.

Your eyes fall to his lips, the way it’s a bit swollen with smudges of your lipstick faintly staining him.

Then— a smile.

Not the teasing, cocky smirk he likes to throw your way. It’s a warm, heart-wrenching smile that reaches his eyes.

You don’t need to see the screen to know.

MC.

“I gotta go,” he murmurs, eyes still glued to the phone, fingers moving quickly as he types.

You don’t say anything.

You cant.

“Don’t get home too late, shortcake,” he states, eyes still on the phone.

Without sparing you a glance, he turns away and disappears into the crowd.

And you—stupid, foolish you—

Just stand there.

Waiting for something that was never yours to begin with.

•

You force your eyes open only to be met with light piercing into your eyes. You are not sure how the night ended, or how you managed to pull yourself home. You shot up, quickly checking the time.

8:45. Fuck.

You push yourself from the bed, ignoring the pang in your head.

Running into class, you quickly open the door, heaving as you scan the room for seats.

“Yn!” a voice calls out.

You turn to the source, and sure enough, it’s him.

He pats the empty seat beside him. “Here.”

You hesitate.

For a second, just a second, you think maybe he’ll say something. Maybe he’ll acknowledge what happened last night.

Maybe he’ll give you something.

But Caleb just leans back in his seat, grinning like always. Like nothing happened.

Like his hands weren’t all over you.

Like his lips weren’t on yours.

Like he didn’t leave you standing there, breathless and alone.

“C’mon, shortcake,” he drawls, patting the empty seat beside him. “I saved you a seat.”

You swallow, legs moving before your mind can catch up, and you take the seat.

And he smirks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes like he wasn’t out ruining you the night before.

He’s joking.

Laughing.

Acting like last night was nothing.

Like you’re nothing.

And you force yourself to laugh along.

•

The day goes by like any other day. You find yourself sitting with MC and Caleb, grabbing dinner at a nearby restaurant you frequent as soon as the day ends.

“So… how was last night?” she asks.

You pause, unsure of what to say. “It was okay,” you finally say. “I was a total mess.”

“Caleb told me he dropped by. Did you guys meet there?”

“No,” he answers. “There were too many people, I wouldn’t have been able to find shortcake there even if I was sober!” he jokes.

A pit builds in your stomach. You’re not sure of what to feel, how to react.

So you smile.

“True.”

MC drabble on, talking about how she suddenly had an urge for a late night meal and Caleb was kind enough to bring one to her in the middle of last night.

“I didn’t ruin your fun, right?” she turns to Caleb.

“You know I have the most fun with you, pipsqueak,” he chuckles, pinching her nose.

Oh. So that’s why he left.

They probably talked more about useless stuff. You can’t really comprehend what the conversations are about anymore. You excuse yourself, blaming it on the hangover and saying that you drank a little too much last night and need a sleep.

The moment you step out, the weight in your chest collapses. Your fingers tremble as you clutch your bag tighter, as you force your legs to move, one step after another, out the door, down the road, through the crowd.

Everything feels too bright, too loud, too much.

MC’s words echo in your head.

“I suddenly had an urge for a late-night meal, and Caleb was kind enough to bring me one.”

Your stomach twists.

That’s who he belongs to.

Not you. Never you.

You don’t even remember the walk home.

It’s a blur—like the rest of the night, like every moment you spent trying to convince yourself you were anything more than temporary.

By the time you come to, you’re curled up in the corner of your room, knees pulled tight to your chest, the darkness swallowing you whole.

You feel empty.

Not just sad, not just hurt—hollow.

Like last night never even happened.

Like you never even happened.

Your fingers tighten against your arms, nails digging into your skin as if pain could anchor you to something real.

But nothing about this is real.

You were a moment.

A passing indulgence.

A warm body for him to hold when the one he truly wanted wasn’t there.

And the worst part?

You let him.

Because even if it wasn’t real, even if it was just for a second—

At least for that moment, he was yours.

PING

Your phone lights up.

Caleb [7:04 PM]: I’m free tonight

Caleb [7:04 PM]: You didn’t eat a lot earlier

Caleb [7:05 PM]: You want porridge?

Caleb [7:07 PM]: I’m coming over

You stare at the screen until the phone dims once more.

PING

MC [7:10 PM]: UGH I have to stay late at the library tonight

MC [7:10 PM]: Some last minute thing came up with my group project

MC [7:11 PM]: Gotta be stuck here forever T_T

Oh.

[hees-mine]

SECRET - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warnings: stepcest, smut, unprotected sex, oral, anal fingering, face sitting, cockwarming, dirty talk, cum eating, multiple orgasms, cursing. Not proofread forgive me.

Genre: 18+, smut, minors do not interact, taboo relationship, stepcest

WC: 4,492k

⟱⟱⟱

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you up this late,” heeseung whispers to you as you enter the kitchen, rubbing the grogginess from your eyes while yawning.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply and walk to the fridge, pouring yourself a glass of cold water. “It is really late,” you mutter, taking a sip and staring at the clock aimlessly.

“You’re telling me. The guys wouldn’t let me leave to save my life,” he laughs softly, rummaging around the fridge, but nothing really catches his eyes, so he closes the door.

“Poor you,” you say with a slight giggle that he smiles at.

“Poor you, too.” Stepping away from the fridge, he walks over to you, standing just mere inches away as he scans your face.

“W-what do you mean?” You question confusedly, tilting your head to the side as he closes in on you even more.

“Could’ve been here with you.” resting his palms on your waist, he glides his large, warm hands up and down your sides until his hands slip underneath the hem and he finds your perky braless breasts kneading on them.

You gasp suddenly and pull away from him. “Heeseung, what are you doing?” Your heart was pounding in your chest at this point, and you had no idea what was going on. One minute, you were laughing together, and the next, he was touching you. Not to say you didn’t like it, but this was wrong. He was your stepbrother. He shouldn’t be doing things to you like that.

He rolls his eyes; just the fact it took you that long to react makes it evident to him that you didn’t mind him touching you. “Pfft, come on, y/n, I see the way you look at me, the way you stare at my cock every chance you get” he chuckles and walks closer to you again. “And, of course, you know the way I look at you,” he whispers, hinting at all the times you caught him staring at you inappropriately. He dips his head down and kisses your neck, his hands already sliding up your shirt and pushing it all the way up to your shoulders, revealing your naked chest, and he bites his lip at the sight staring down at you with eyes full of desire.

“We shouldn’t.” You looked up at him, eyes wide and expectant, your words having no real value. You know you should care about what’s happening. You should be concerned with the countless times you eye fucked your stepbrother, but you just didn’t. All you wanted since the day you met was to have his cock buried deep inside you, and even more when you saw his tent in his pajamas for the first time. You’ve never been the same after that, and you’ve been thirsting for his big dick every day.

“Sweetheart, I really don’t care, and I know you don’t either. I can be your secret, and you can be mine.” he cups your breasts, rubbing your cute little hardened nipples with his thumb. “I just need to fuck your pussy, baby. I’m tired of fucking my fist to the thought of you, and we finally have some time alone” he backs you up against the counter, pressing his hard bulge on you, and you moan, finally coming in contact with what you’ve been wanting for months.

“You touch yourself to the thought me?” You couldn’t help but wonder.

“Of course I do.” he rolled his hips against you, groaning at the friction as he did it over and over again. “You do it too, right? Thinking about me and my cock while you get off on those pretty little fingers?” He rests his head on your shoulder, hands slipping from your chest to your waist, holding you still as he ruts into your core, leaving you breathless.

You grip onto his wide shoulders. “So many times,” You bite your lip, tilting your head back to grant him access to kiss your neck. “Had to go to sleep unsatisfied so many nights cause nothing felt as good as I know you would,” you admit.

“Hmm, sorry baby, but I got you tonight, all right? Gonna make this pussy cream till my little stepsister is fucked and satisfied,” he grins as he leans back. “Up,” you followed his instructions, lifting your arms up for him, your flimsy shirt falling to the tiled floor.

He takes off his shirt next to the material pooling on the floor along with yours before he unfastens his belt and opens his jeans as well. He impatiently reaches out to you, bringing you close to his body until his chest is flush against yours; his body shivers when both your bodies meet together. He’s been dying to feel your body like this for what feels like forever. “Mmm,” he presses his fingertips into your waistline, the other hand slinking up to your throat, pressing on the sides gently as he brings you in for a kiss.

You opened up to him right away, letting his tongue inside your mouth and swirling yours around it.

Feeling lightheaded already, you kiss him back, your movements even more rushed and rough than his. Your noses continuously brush against one another as your lips lock in a wet, sloppy kiss.

He pulls away, his mouth parted, and your warm breath fans his face.

You stare up at him, blinking innocently, your eyes already lidded with arousal as your hands find his toned chest, massaging every faint line of muscle.

He watches the way your hands glide on his body, nipples growing stiff as your fingers brush over them. “Yeah,” he whispers in approval, his cock twitching as you lean in, swirling your tongue over his erected bud.

His mouth parts open further as you alternate between nipples while slipping your hand inside his jeans to palm his erection at the same time. “Fuck” he bucks his hips fucking himself on your hand and getting lost in the pleasure even though you two barely even started.

You chuckle deeply, loving how reactive he is to your sensual touches. You suck extra hard on his left nipple, and he moans, his hand going up your back and tangling itself in your hair. “Shit,” he hissed, eyes rolling backward in his head.

Your hand searches for the hole in the front of his boxers, and you find it easily pulling his stiff cock out of the confines of his clothing.

Moaning against his chest, you whine in satisfaction when you feel him skin on skin. He’s hot to the touch, pulsating and leaking precum.

“Oh my god, y/n.” The sudden change in his voice makes you pulsate even harder. You never heard his voice like this before. He sounds so high-pitched and whiny, but he can’t help it. He’s never felt this fucking amazing before. How were you making him go crazy with just sucking his nipples and jerking him off? He must’ve been more desperate than he thought, or maybe you’re just that good.

You move your face from his chest, his eyes fluttering open as you do so. “Please let me suck your dick,” you ask, needing to feel him in your mouth now.

He rubs your scalp with the tips of his fingers. “Of course, baby, get down on your knees and suck on my dick,” he watches as you drop to your knees in front of him. The sight alone makes his cock twitch in anticipation.

Looking up at his hazy eyes, you grip the bottom of his shaft, pumping his size slowly. “Oh fuck” he shuddered, still sensitive from nearly cumming just from your hand a moment ago.

“Mmhmm you like that hee?” He clenches his jaw, breathing through his nose as calmly as he can.

“Yea baby, I do” he releases a deep breath having zero control over his hips as he starts fucking your hand again, looking so desperate for it.

Without any more words, you open up your mouth, lightly suckling on just the tip at first.

The taste of salty precum hits your taste buds, and you can’t help but hum, loving the way his hard, heavy cock feels on your tongue.

Salivating at the first taste, you eagerly swallow down the rest of him, taking the remainder of his thick cock all the way down your tight wet throat.

He lurches forward and quickly grips the counter to stabilize himself. “Y/n fuck” he curses, lip bit tightly between his teeth to keep it down, his face twisted and eyebrows furrowed in pure unadulterated pleasure. “You feel so good on my dick” he balls his hand into a tight fist, overwhelmed by the feeling of your hot mouth sucking him off like your life depends on it.

You gagged spit dripping down his shaft and coating his balls as his tip hit the back of your throat, but that only excited you more as you bob your head faster, your lips tightly secured all the way around his cock as you cup his saliva-covered balls softly stroking them.

“Shit, y/n, fuck fuck fuck I’m g-gonna c-cum” he whimpers in desperation as his release hits him hard. “Let me cum in your mouth, please,” he rushes out, and you nod immediately, waiting to get your throat stuffed with his cum. Not even a second later, he shoots his cum straight down your throat. You feel his heavy balls tighten in your hand, his cock twitching on your bottom lip as he rewards you with his warm cum.

Despite your knees feeling sore from the tile, you suck him completely dry, finishing him off with a quiet pop as you wipe the corners of your lips and swallow every last drop. “Come here.” he takes your hands, helping you stand off the ground. You can barely stand straight before he pulls you into a messy kiss way; you willingly swallow his cum, turning him on all over again, his bare cock brushing against your leg as he backed you up into the fridge door, the coolness of it feeling good in contrast to how hot it has become.

“Heeseung,” you cup his face, kissing him back with equal enthusiasm as he taps your thigh, signaling you to wrap your legs around him.

He pressed his palms into the appliance behind you, letting you hang off him completely. “Fuck baby, you already got me going again” he pulled back from the kiss, and you encircled your arms around his neck.

Grabbing the backs of your thighs, he hoists you in his arms, moving you on top of the kitchen counter with ease. “Lay down for me,” you do as he says, eager to know what he’s got in store for you.

He yanks down his jeans and underwear, leaving himself naked. Once he’s finished, he grabs the waist of your shorts, pulling them down as well with the help of you lifting your hips.

Now you’re bare on the table, your cunt wet and glistening on display like a full-course meal just for him.

Licking his lips, he situated himself between your legs, lifting them up and pressing them to your chest. He didn’t even say anything. He just leaned in, and all you felt was his hot, heavy breath fanning your pussy before a long wet line was licked from your rim to your clenching pussy. “O-oh,” you gasp, your legs trembling from just the first lick.

“Knew you’d taste so good” he closed his eyes, licking another long stripe up your juicy cunt, groaning as the flavor of you spreads on his tastebuds. “Smell so fucking amazing, too” he wasn’t shy to really get in there. His face was flush against your core, his tongue licking up every inch of your engorged vulva.

“Oh fuck yes,” you let your head rest on the counter, taking a deep breath to calm yourself and feel everything he does to you down there.

Without pause, his tongue falls out in one smooth motion as he inserts it inside you fucking it in and out.

You reach out to him, hands running through his silky hair pulling softly at the roots, and you have to restrain yourself from pushing his head down and fucking his face.

His nose runs over clit, and you swear you’ve never felt something so good. Just his tongue inside you felt unreal. You could only imagine how his dick would be.

You’re silently enjoying, for the most part, since your parents are fast asleep upstairs and the fact you were doing everything in your power not to thrust yourself onto his tongue.

Noticing your sudden lack of sounds and words, he switches to something that’d get him a reaction out of you. He pulls his tongue out, a long string of saliva following as he starts sucking on your pulsating clit and kneading your thighs.

He does it for a good minute transitioning between sucks and gentle flicks of his tongue, but he still doesn’t get any excitement out of you.

Was he doing something wrong?

“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking up at you.

“Nothing, what do you mean?” You question in confusion.

“I don’t know, it’s just you’re not- you don’t seem as if you’re as excited as I am about this,” he admits quietly with a soft sigh.

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him. “I am, I really am. You have no idea.”

“Sure? Cause I don’t have to if you don’t want it,” he replied, sounding dejected. He just wanted to return the favor and make you cum too.

“Yes, hee.” You lean up, giving him a kiss and rubbing your fingers through his hair. “I really want this. Don’t want you to ever stop, baby.” you kissed the tip of his nose. “Just don’t want to wake anyone up.”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles at himself, forgetting for a moment that you both live with your parents, but even still, you were making some sounds before, but now you weren’t. Maybe he was overthinking it, but it’s like he could sense something was wrong.

“Yeah, silly that, and I’m trying my hardest not to ride your face,” you told him shyly, watching as all the apprehension left his face. No wonder it seemed like something was wrong. It’s because you were holding back, and fuck, he’s glad he said something because he wants nothing more than for you to ride his face and fuck yourself on his tongue.

He doesn’t say anything. He simply picks you up and takes you to the couch. He lays flat on it first and searches for your hand, helping you climb on top of him. “Do as you please fuck do anything you want to me.”

You lost it the moment the words left his mouth. If it weren’t for you being so needy, you might have hesitated due to shyness, but you couldn’t. He was far too inviting for you not to just pounce on him.

You immediately lined yourself up with his face sinking down on him and moaning out as you started riding his pretty face.

He gripped your thighs, his tongue coming out as you rotated your hips on his face. “Fuck you’re so good,” you whimper, rubbing your pussy on his soft, warm tongue.

He hums as he slides his hands to your ass cheeks, squeezing and spreading you open, guiding you back and forth on his tongue. “I love the way you taste,” he says almost incoherently with the way his tongue passes through your folds.

You grip the head of the sofa, grinding your hips back and forth. His tongue slips inside your hole, and you arch your back, bouncing lightly as you feel his tongue fucking your swollen pussy.

He tests the waters, running a finger along your rim, and judging by how you let out the loudest moan of the night slip past your pretty lips, he can only surmise that you’re into that.

His index finger circles the tightness of your rim, and when you try and push back on him, he gives you what you want, sinking his finger into your asshole.

So tight and warm he swears he’s in paradise cause everything about you is absolutely perfect.

“Hee,” you whimper as you feel him slip it into you. Your head drops between your shoulders as you ride his tongue and finger. “I’m gonna cum” With a satisfied moan, he doesn’t stop his movements not until you clench around his tongue and spill your arousal all over his awaiting tongue.

A muffled curse leaves his mouth, the vibrations making your orgasm even more intense to the point your trembling legs clamp around his head. “So good” You threw your head back, rubbing your pussy all over him.

As you begin to come down from your high, he purses his lips rubbing them directly on your clit, and this, without a doubt, was by far the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

“Fuck” you whimper, your legs shaking as you feel a gush of wetness seep out of you.

Heeseung swallowed it down in less than a heartbeat, his cock twitching as your taste slithered down his throat. He was so fucking hard and ready for you, his cock lubed up in ridiculous amounts of precum, just waiting to be used in your pussy.

He retracts his finger, your hole clenching around nothing, practically begging him to finger your ass some more.

His hands grip your waist, and he pulls you down on him until you’re face to face, handling you like you weigh nothing. “You liked, huh, baby?” You nodded suddenly, feeling shy, and he couldn’t help but think it was cute how quickly your demeanor changed. “Give your stepbrother a kiss, yeah.” You hit his chest lightly at his teasing, but you kiss him nonetheless, the flavors of both your sexes being exchanged through the kiss as he wraps his arms around you securely, giving you both a minute or two before he’s slipping from under you and standing up. “Look what you do to me.” he looks down, and you clench when you see it. He’s so fucking huge and hard your mouth waters, and you would suck him off again if it wasn’t for your aching pussy begging to be fucked and filled.

“All that for me?” You ask with a smile, reaching out to stroke him a few times.

“Yeah, baby, all that for you,” he says, sensually rubbing your forearm as you stroke him off.

“Mhm then, if it’s all for me, put it inside me.” his expression fills with nothing but raw desire, and he doesn’t wait any longer to get to what you’ve both been waiting months for.

“Shit, turn over for me then” You didn’t need to be told twice, flipping over on the couch and giving him your best arch as you flip your hair to the side, looking behind you as he gets on the sofa.

He rests one leg on the ground, his knee on the couch next to you as he aligns his aching cock to your hole.

“Put it in, hee need you to fuck me so bad” his head feels fuzzy as he presses his tip on your entrance. You and your mouth are going to be the death of him.

“I’m gonna fuck you real good” he pushes it in, neither of you being able to wait any longer.

“Ooh yes,” you hiss at the stretch, your lips pursed in an attempt to suppress your moans.

He places his hand on your hip, one on your shoulder, sliding down the length of your back, softly tracing a line until he meets your right hip gripping onto you tightly as he fucks a few more inches inside you. “That’s it, take it. Look at that wet pussy swallowing up my dick,” he spanks your ass biting on his lip as your sloppy pussy lips hug around his length.

“Yes, hee, take my pussy and fill me up with your dick” You grip the couch, the stretch feeling so slick and hot as he enters you, fully bottoming out in your silky cunt. His tight balls rest on your outer lips, the wetness between your bodies sticking you both together.

He throws his head back, moaning as you take him all inside. It’s so warm and wet he feels like he might faint. You're just too good and tight for him to even think straight.

He’s already covered in sweat, pupils wide with arousal as he pulls back, his tip catching on to your tight opening, and he pushes back in, filling out your pussy again.

One slow stroke, and he thinks he might cum. “Fuck” he whines, his hands gripping your waist so tight they’ll be prints by tomorrow. “You’re really fucking tight y/n”

“Yeah, hee? Does your stepsister's pussy make you feel good” you tease, pushing back on his dick as it fills you to the hilt.

“Y/n,” his mouth parts as he takes a breath. “Fuck yes, it does, makes me feel so fucking good. Oh my god, you’re so wet.”

“Mhm yes hee fuck me fuck me hard wanna feel all of you,” you say, sounding drunk off the feeling of his big cock in you.

He thrust deeply, his pace naturally increasing with a feral need. The loud sound of your ass clapping against his sweaty thighs filled up the living room, and you were both too in the moment to care if either of your parents caught you.

“Ahh fuck yes!” You moan loudly as his tip nudges your cervix.

“Fuck y/n, you feel me deep in your pretty little pussy, mhm, like it being fucked deep and hard, isn’t that right, beautiful” he spanks you again, your perfect ass jiggling from the harsh impact.

You clench from the unexpected slap, your head falling into the cushion, a final attempt to silence yourself. “God, yes!” Your moans are thankfully muffled by the couch, but he can still hear every whimper and moan you let out.

He watches his thick cock fucking your cunt. This angle makes you look so good as you soak his dick, the white ring of arousal around the thick base of his shaft proving just how wet your pussy is getting for him.

He spat his hand in the heat of the moment. He rubs it between your spread ass, his thumb circling it around. “You want it?” He teases just the pad of his thumb.

You pick your head up, your eyes hazy, hair a mess, and when you look back at him, it’s the best image of you so far. “Yes, put your finger in my ass. Hee fuck me like I’m yours,” you say shamelessly, allowing him to do whatever he wants to your body, and you know you’ll love all of it.

“You are mine after tonight. You’re so fucking mine” Your eyes flutter in your head at his sudden possessiveness, and your mouth hangs open in a silent moan as he slips his thumb into you.

Fucking his thumb in and out, he feels you get even tighter. “Since you like my finger in your ass, maybe you’ll like my dick too.”

Just the suggestion is enough to make you go insane. You can’t imagine how good his dick would feel up your ass.

“Huh?” He brushes some hair out of your face so he can see your reaction. “Wouldn’t you, baby, you’d love taking my big dick up your tight little ass,” he talks in a soft voice cooing as your face morphs into one of nothing but pure pleasure.

You pant, your body overwhelmed and covered in sweat as he fucks you harder into the couch. “Yes, so much, hee,” you say, half in, half out of it, your limbs giving into the pleasure that builds inside you.

“Nuh uh baby, keep arching for me.” he pressed down on your lower back, making you arch deeper than you were before, and the way he filled you up left you with no doubt that he was bulging in your lower stomach.

“Hee!” You squeal out, shocked by the pleasurable feeling of him pounding into your cervix relentlessly.

“Take it, that’s it, take it, take it, take it,” he grunts, shoving his thumb deeper inside you, only fitting to have both your holes penetrated as deeply as possible.

“Fuck” you cry out, your body in a position you didn’t even know you could take, and his dick hits places that have never been reached inside you before.

“Keep squeezing on my dick, cum on me, baby. Make a fucking mess,” he encourages you, giving you every last ounce of energy he’s got left to plow into you because he wasn’t letting you go another night without satisfying you with his cock.

His words make you reach your breaking point. “C-cumming” You fall apart on his dick, your body going limp as you succumb to the constant rubbing of his cock against your throbbing walls.

“M-me too,” he stutters. Every muscle in his body tenses with desire and wants as he releases his semen deep inside you. He rides out your highs with gentle strokes, pushing his cum as far inside you as it could possibly go, not letting a single drop slip out.

“Yes cum in me,” you whisper exhaustedly, moaning continuously as his warmth fills you inside out, your spent pussy squelching with every thrust.

He pulls his thumb out of you before you get too overwhelmed with everything he’s done to you.

“Good little stepsister, take all your big brother's cum” he lowers himself on top of you, his dick still buried to the hilt as he keeps himself inside you plugging you up with his cum.

You pant as his hands lay over yours, which were now flat beside your head on the couch.

He gives you little kisses all over your face every now and then, rocking his hips, reminding you that he’s still nestled deep inside your pussy.

You sigh softly, your breath finally returning to normal.

He blindly reaches on the back of the sofa to grab a blanket draped on the back, covering you both up as much as he could. “Tired my baby?” He whispers to you, and you nod in response. “Want me to clean you up and take you to bed? Does that sound good?” He smiles as you hum again. “Okay, sweetheart, let’s just stay here fit a little bit.

You don't protest when he flips you over and lays you on his chest. You feel some of his cum dripping out of you, but neither of you mind, too tired right now to be bothered.

You rest on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. As he strums your back peacefully and he whispers…

“This can be our little secret.”

⟱⟱⟱

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[goldenhypen]

. ⊹ just like this ˚ ͎ ｡

syn. taking care of jake when he gets sick, all because you refused to bring a jacket.

pair. jake x reader · wc. 1k · contains. fluff, catching a cold, mentions of food/drink

a/n. ^^ jake has the prettiest smile- nearly forgot this was just sitting in my drafts waiting to see the light of day- so now hopefully at least someone can enjoy it :’>

“damn, as much as i love to kiss you, your lips are freezing,” jake explained after he pulled away with hints of worry in his voice. “oh my, your hands are cold too. i told you you should’ve brought a jacket. you’re freezing.”

it had only been a few seconds but somehow, your lips were already missing the warmth of his own on yours.

“n-no”—stupid stutter—you denied through chattering teeth as the rest of your body began to shiver.

“really,” he said in more of a challenging tone through a chuckle, rather than a question, as he perked up a brow.

he already shrugged off most of his own jacket before you could even think of protesting, and within approximately three seconds, his coat was already hung over your shoulders, sheltering you from the chilling breeze, immediately feeling warmth shoot throughout your body.

“better?” he smirked.

“yes,” you half-guiltily admitted. “you’re going to get sick though.”

the frown on your face didn’t leave even as his next words left his throat, “well, better me than you.”

“no, jake,” you said as your pout grew longer.

“you know why?”

“hm?”

he paused as a smirk travelled to his lips before answering, “because then i’ll get to have you as my caretaker.”

“pfft—please. no, you're not. i’m telling you to take your jacket back, but you’re not letting me give it back to you. so that would be your fault.”

“ouch, someone is really eager to not take care of their boyfriend. okay, i see how it is,” he said with a dramatic frown.

you looked at him as you shook your head and rolled your eyes, “jake, no, i—”

“it’s fine! still better me than you though,” he said —if it was even possible—with more drama in his tone than before as he began to walk away.

you ran to catch up with him and took his still warm hand in both of yours as you looked into his eyes, but being the petty boy he was, who liked playing these silly games, he only continued walking, gaze straight ahead, refusing to look in your direction.

the rest of your date went on, with him eventually forgetting how he had planned on staying dramatic for as long as he could, and he made sure his jacket wasn’t let off your shoulders until you both got home, an immediate rush of warm air filling your bodies. momentarily, you took in the relaxing sensation, closing your eyes.

“want some hot cocoa?” jake asked, whipping you back to reality.

you gave him a small smile, followed by a satisfied nod at the idea. you could already feel the hot beverage flowing down your throat, warming up your insides.

you followed jake to the kitchen. and that was when you heard a sneeze just a few feet ahead.

“jake…”

he cleared his throat. “what? it was just a sneeze.”

“if you’re sick—”

“i’m alright. don’t worry.”

sceptical, you nodded.

later as you two cuddled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, hands wrapped around a nice cup of hot cocoa, jake furrowed his brows. “why is it so cold in here?”

you turned your head to face him with a questioning look. “i’m not cold.”

“it’s so cold.”

“jake, love, i think it’s just you.”

he shivered, putting his mug down before drowning himself under the covers. “cold.”

you hugged him under the ocean of blanket before he said, “i think i’ve got chills.”

you sighed sadly, “and who said they weren’t sick, hm?”

he huffed out a long puff of air from his cheeks. “i don’t feel good, y/n.”

you sighed again softly, feeling bad for the boy. “okay, stay here and rest. i’ll go make you some soup.”

you let go of his already weak and exhausted form before standing up, beginning to make your way toward the kitchen as you heard a “thanks, i love you!”

⎯ ❤︎ ⎯

“okay, i’m back with soup.” you placed it on the table in front of him. “it’s hot, be careful.”

“thanks, love.”

you watched as he took his first few spoonfuls, your hand reached behind his head as you ran it up and down his back soothingly.

after a moment of silence as he drank his soup, a sudden eruption of giggles filled the room.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, subconsciously beginning to laugh with him.

“i love being sick,” he said, turning to you with a cheeky grin.

“i’m sorry, you what?” you laughed, imagining you must’ve heard it wrong.

“i like being sick.”

“what? why?” you asked at his ridiculous statement.

“because i always get to have you take care of me,” he smirked, not so cheeky this time but more happy than anything.

“i—” was all you managed to push out, speechless.

“told you you’d take care of me,” he then said proudly victorious, chin held high. “i know you well enough to know how down bad you are for me, y/n.”

you scoffed in disbelief, “oh, please. you are unbelievable.”

“i might be unbelievable, but i’m not wrong,” he continued playfully.

“okay, mr. smarty pants. you win. i do love you, and what about it?”

he giggled, coming closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

no matter how long you two had been together, him doing this exact form of physical touch never failed to make everything in your body go weak, except your heart, its pace beating so fast, you were almost afraid it would leap out of your chest any minute.

“i love you more,” he breathed into your neck with a smile.

you wrapped your arms around him before starting, “okay, you big baby,” you tapped your hand in a repeating motion on his back, “i think you should get some sleep now. your body needs it.”

you felt as he nodded into your neck. “mhm. just like this.” he said, referring to the way you were tangled in each others arms, bodies sharing warmth, and breaths moving in sync. he closed his eyes. “this is exactly what i need to feel better.”

a/n. ahhh yall pls lmk if you liked this cuz idk if it’s me just second guessing myself but im feeling quite unsure about this one 🫠 and as always, thanks for reading <33

m.list · taglist

taglist 1. @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @vickytodoroki @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @sunjakes @w3bqrl @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @4ri-ki @aeriil11 @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @annoyingbitch83 @kpoprhia @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @atrirose @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts @en-chantedtomeetyou @yeseoist @milisabunny @wonniestars @kazmura @nicholasluvbot @haechansbbg

[somethingthing]

Warm Up

Rafe Cameron x pouge!fem!reader

Warnings: none really, just fluff

Word count: 630

A/N: what is happening?? Two fics in like three days?? I must be sick or something.

No but seriously, I’m so in love with Rafe and I just need some fluff so this is just something short and sweet that took me way too long to get down.

Hope you enjoy!! <33

You were cramped up on a sunbed, it was a tight fit but with Rafe laying half on top of you it was comfortable enough. His head was laying on your chest, using it as a pillow. It was still warm out, the last bit of sun warming up your bodies.

"This is nice" you reached your hand out to get the drink on the small table next to you, taking a sip "Want some?" you held the glass at his level.

"Thanks, but that means i need to move" he squeezed his arms tighter around you "And I´m way too comfortable" he finished.

"Suit yourself" you downed the last bit, leaving only the ice in the glass.

"I´m sorry about what went down on the beach" he mumbled. Your hand that had been stroking his back stopped for a moment "I know I should’ve said something"

You shifted a bit, making him look up at you "I know you are honey" you had been mad at him, but you understood why he hadn´t said anything. With all the whispering behind his back about his dad and family he was scared, scared that if he wasn´t all in with the rest of the kooks they´d turn against him.

"I´m sick of it, the whole kooks and pouge thing" he laid his head down on your chest again "But I did hate them, especially those idiots my sister keeps running around with, but i like you" he nestled his face into your neck "Really like you" you could practically feel him smirking as he placed lazy kissed on your neck.

"Rafe" you giggled out. You sank deeper into the sunbed, placing yourself directly under him. He was hoovering above you, making the sun hit your face.

"You really are something, you know that?" you felt your face heat up. It wasn´t too often he was like this, the rare moments you got, you cherished "Pouge and all" he teased, grinning down at you.

Just like that, the peace you just felt was replaced with mischief "And you are an asshole" you shot back, placing a playful kiss on his nose "You know, if you like me and I´m a pouge, you might like the others too"

He huffed "Pfft if they´re not you, I don´t like them" you scrunched your face in dissaproval "But-" he sighted deeply "but I`ll try and tolerate them" he finished, kissing your lips softly.

"I can live with that" you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. The sun had gone down and the lack of the previous warm rays made you shiver slightly "Is the hot tub running? I´m cold"

"Don´t think so, but it doesn't take long to heat up" he sat up, pulling you with him. Your legs draped over his knees "But in the meanwhile I think I know a few ways to get you warm again" his hand ran up your leg, grinning at you, your cheeks fluster again.

"My saviour" you said dramatically, swinging your legs to the ground you stood up "I´m gonna go and get my bikini while you heat the tub up" standing up as well he wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"Bikini? No no, no need for that" he once again placed lazy kisses along your neck, making you lean your head back against him "I told you, I have a plan to keep you warm" he slowly started to walk towards the hot tub still with his arms around you.

"Mhm, right" you giggled out, turning your head to place a kiss on his jaw. You wished you could stay like this forever, just you and Rafe, away from everyone and everything. You knew that tomorrow would be back to the usual chaos that seemed to curse the island, but for now, you were here. Just here in the moment with Rafe, not worrying about anything.

——————————————

Not sure I like this but it just feels good the write I guess so here we are. And as always feedback is always welcome and thank you for reading!! <33

[linkonlceleste]

LnD boys- How they would save your name in phone (+ a scenario)

Disclaimer- apologies for grammar mistakes and if my writing is not upto how the characters react/behave.Just an example ,not implying this to be the exact name they'd save.

Zayne - "Mine"

Once during a meeting,he left his phone on the meeting table.Some of his co-workers noticed his phone ringing(you were the one who called) and didn't know whose phone it was.One coworker said ,"I think it's Dr.Zayne's phone". Another co-worker peeked at the phone and scoffed saying,"No way!,he would never save someone's name as 'mine'". And as everyone were agreeing and gossiping ,they saw zayne entering the room .He swiftly took the exact phone they were talking about,attended the call casually and walked away.Everyone in that meeting room were silent ,some staring at each other ,some jawdropped,while some were laughing in disbelief.

Xavier - "My star"

Jeremiah noticed Xavier walking back and forth with his phone in his hand."What's wrong, Xavier?",he asked with a bit of concern and glanced at his phone which Xavier immediately hid away from him.Still, Jeremiah noticed a few words in the beginning such as 'To my star', 'I'm sorry', ' please'. He laughed asking,"Pfft,what's that long para you're writing?,to my star? Who's that? And an apology letter? Why, what did you do? Tell me tell me". Jeremiah shooted so many questions and despite knowing who was his 'star',he teased Xavier ,who was annoyed by jeremiah's behaviour.He was writing an apology message to you, probably because he ignored you and went to a dangerous mission alone.

Rafayel - "My muse"

Thomas dashed into Rafayel's art studio, frustrated that he ignored his own as well as the client's calls.He saw rafayel who was busy playing with his paintbrush ."Mr.Rafayel ,How many times should we call you?! I know you might be busy thinking of ideas,but Can't you please take your call or message atleast once?!You know today's the deadline right?",as he kept ranting ,rafayel stroked a line in his painting unbothered.Thomas gave up and said rafayel one last time about the deadline and muttered as he left "Is there a day he attends a single person's call? Gosh".And as he was turning to leave,he saw rafayel's phone vibrating .The caller was 'my muse'. "Oh he definitely would ignore this too",before Thomas could finish thinking that,rafayel picked his phone cheerfully "MC! How was your day today?". Thomas was too stunned to speak. Thomas dashed into Rafayel's art studio, frustrated that he ignored his own as well as the client's calls.He saw rafayel who was busy playing with his paintbrush ."Mr.Rafayel ,How many times should we call you?! I know you might be busy thinking of ideas,but Can't you please take your call or message atleast once?!You know today's the deadline right?",as he kept ranting ,rafayel stroked a line in his painting unbothered.Thomas gave up and said rafayel one last time about the deadline and muttered as he left "Is there a day he attends a single person's call? Gosh".And as he was turning to leave,he saw rafayel's phone vibrating .The caller was 'my muse'. "Oh he definitely would ignore this too",before Thomas could finish thinking that,rafayel picked his phone cheerfully "MC! How was your day today?". Thomas was too stunned to speak.

Sylus - "Troublemaker"

He probably won't need to use his phone that much to contact you anyway.because mephisto follows you and updates him everytime but then one day he didn't receive any information from Mephisto so he decided to call you.When he is about to call,he immediately gets a call from you.He was a bit taken aback ,not because you called him.

It was obviously a picture of you and him in the caller background yet the caller name was different from what he had saved.After talking to you and knowing that you were busy with wanderers,he replies to you to come home sooner and cuts the call with a kiss.Then he asks Luke and Kieran to come to the meeting room.He puts the phone down on the table and looks at them for an answer."Now tell me,who changed MC's caller ID name!?." He shows the name in phone."Who has done it? You? Or You ? Or did both of you both do it?".

They both look at each other with evident fear in eyes.Sylus steps forward and gestures them to reply. "Who saved her as 'Our Mom' in my phone? Huh?". Luke points at Kieran,"That was his idea! I just did as I was told!."

Kieran adds,"She's our mom! No,no ,I mean... that's what Mephisto said!".Sylus sighed wondering whether to laugh or yell at them.

Meanwhile,MC and Mephisto were chilling somewhere in a jewellery shop,where MC was choosing a little sparkling gift for Mephisto.

A/N: Thank you for reading,take care :) ❤️

MASTERLIST

[solxamber]

Hiiii so I really liked your unhinged reader x Leona fic and I just saw your post about mal and vil

If you have the time, could you do the same thing for mal and/or vil?

Vil and Malleus with an Unhinged reader

thanks for the request <3 it's always fun writing for mal and vil!

Vil Schoenheit

Vil Schoenheit prided himself on his poise. He prided himself on his grace, his refinement, his ability to maintain control in any situation.

And then there was you.

A walking, talking whirlwind of chaos with absolutely no regard for personal safety or the consequences of your actions. You had this thing—this habit—of showing up wherever Vil was, just appearing out of thin air like a feral cat who found a way into the palace.

“Vil!” you called, striding confidently into the Pomefiore lounge one afternoon, without a care for the looks you were getting from the perfectly groomed students. “Guess what I did today?”

Vil didn’t look up from his tea. “Do I even want to know?”

You, with the biggest grin on your face, flopped into the chair across from him like it was a casual meeting and not the sanctum of beauty and refinement. “Okay, so. Hear me out.”

“No.”

Ignoring him completely, you launched into your story. “So I was in the botanical gardens, right? And I saw this big, fancy plant, and I thought, ‘What if I just… take it?’ You know, for science or something.”

Vil lowered his tea slowly, eyeing you like you’d just declared you were going to break into a highly secured vault for fun. “You what?”

“I took it! It’s in my bag!” You looked so proud of yourself as you patted your bag. “I was thinking it’d look great in your room.”

Vil blinked at you, mouth slightly open, as his brain struggled to process the sheer absurdity of the situation. “You stole a plant? From the botanical gardens? For me?”

“Yup! Because you like pretty things, right?”

A strangled sound came from Rook, who had been quietly observing the conversation. Vil shot him a glare to silence him before returning his attention to you. “Let me get this straight,” Vil said slowly, carefully, as though speaking too quickly would cause his head to explode. “You, with absolutely no regard for rules or consequences, took a rare and likely highly poisonous plant, stuffed it into your bag, and brought it to me?”

You blinked innocently. “It’s poisonous? Huh. Well, that explains the rash.”

Vil’s hands went to his temples as he let out a long, pained sigh. “You have a death wish, don’t you?”

“Pfft, nah. I just get bored.”

There it was. The sentence that encapsulated everything about you—no self-preservation, questionable morals, and an insatiable hunger for something, anything, to entertain you.

Vil leaned back in his chair, staring at you as though trying to comprehend how someone like you even existed. “Do you realize how dangerous that is? How reckless? How utterly insane?”

You shrugged. “Danger is subjective, really. And anyway, you’ve faced worse in your overblot, right? At least I didn’t curse anyone.”

“That’s not the point!” Vil snapped, standing abruptly and fixing you with a glare so intense it could wilt your newly acquired plant. “You’re acting like an absolute menace!”

“And yet,” you said, leaning forward with a grin that could only be described as unhinged, “you still keep letting me hang around.”

Vil opened his mouth to retort but stopped. He couldn’t deny it. No matter how infuriating you were, no matter how many ridiculous situations you threw yourself into, he never really tried to distance himself. Sure, he scolded you, lectured you about proper behavior and responsibility, but at the end of the day, you were still there, waltzing into his life like you owned it.

“And,” you added, leaning even closer, “you can’t deny that you like it. Admit it. You’d be bored without me.”

Vil scoffed, turning his nose up. “As if. I have plenty of things to occupy my time.”

You tilted your head, that same manic gleam in your eye. “Oh really? Then why haven’t you kicked me out yet?”

Vil’s eye twitched. You had him there. He could list a dozen reasons why you were the worst—your lack of decorum, your disregard for rules, your baffling ability to be where you weren’t supposed to be—but at the same time, you were… fun. Infuriating, yes, but you always kept him on his toes. You were different from the people who usually fawned over him, who tried to impress him. You didn’t care about any of that. You just did whatever you wanted.

He took a deep breath and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. “Fine. I’ll admit it. You’re… amusing, in a way.”

You grinned wider. “See? I knew you liked me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Vil said quickly, trying to maintain his composure. “You’re a menace to society and a walking disaster waiting to happen. But…” His voice dropped to a soft murmur, “you’re not entirely unbearable.”

“Wow, that’s practically a love confession coming from you,” you teased, still beaming like you’d won some sort of grand prize.

Vil turned away to hide the faint blush creeping up his neck. “Don’t get any ideas. I simply tolerate your existence.”

“Tolerate it all you want,” you said with a wink. “But I’m still going to hang around and cause chaos.”

Vil rubbed his temples again, as though trying to stave off the headache you were undoubtedly giving him. “I hate you sometimes.”

“Liar,” you sing-songed.

He glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it. “One day, you’re going to get yourself killed. Or worse—ruin my skincare routine.”

You laughed, pulling the now-wilting plant out of your bag. “Wanna help me plant this in the dorm garden?”

Vil stared at you in disbelief. “No. Absolutely not.”

“You say that now, but I’ll grow on you. Just like this plant.”

“I am going to bury you and that plant together.”

You winked. “As long as I’m with you, Vil.”

Vil groaned, but he didn’t kick you out, didn’t storm off in disgust. And somehow, that was all the confirmation you needed.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus Draconia, prince of Briar Valley, feared and revered by many, could handle just about anything. He’d faced fierce enemies, commanded respect with just a glance, and maintained an air of elegance befitting his royal status.

And then there was you.

You, with your complete and utter lack of self-preservation. You, who seemed to treat life like an ongoing game of “how can I make the Grim Reaper quit?” You, who treated Malleus Draconia like just another guy in your chaotic orbit.

“Tsunotarou!” You barreled toward him one evening, skidding to a halt at the last second, as if barely remembering that you shouldn’t throw yourself headfirst into the chest of a centuries-old fae prince. “You’ll never guess what I did!”

Malleus blinked, tilting his head in curiosity. “What have you done this time, Child of Man?”

You grinned like a cat who’d eaten the canary. “I may or may not have… accidentally started a small fire in the potionology lab.”

Malleus’s eyes widened slightly, though he remained composed. “A fire? Are you unharmed?”

“Oh yeah, I’m totally fine! But Crewel’s coat definitely wasn’t. That thing went up in flames like it was soaked in gasoline.” You waved your hand dismissively, like setting your teacher’s coat on fire was a normal Monday activity.

Malleus stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he let out a soft chuckle. “You are truly fearless, aren’t you?”

“I like to think of it as ‘enthusiastically living life without regrets,’” you replied, crossing your arms proudly. “Besides, if something goes wrong, I have you to bail me out.”

“Do you intend to make a habit of relying on me to prevent your untimely demise?” Malleus asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You shrugged. “I mean, if the shoe fits. You’re like my own personal dragon-shaped safety net.”

Malleus blinked. “I am not a net, Child of Man.”

“No, no,” you waved off his literal interpretation. “You’re like the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card. Like, if I almost die doing something dumb, you’ll just bring me back, right?”

Malleus paused, tilting his head again, as if genuinely pondering your question. “I could… but do you not fear death?”

“Nah. It’s not that big of a deal.” You grinned, clearly thrilled by the look of confusion that passed over his normally composed face. “Besides, it’s boring to worry about things like that.”

Malleus stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if trying to comprehend how you could be so nonchalant about life-threatening situations. He was used to dealing with those who were cautious around him, who feared his power or treated him with excessive reverence. And then there was you—just casually asking him if he could resurrect you after you threw yourself into danger like it was a sport.

“What am I to do with you?” Malleus mused, more to himself than to you.

You perked up. “Take me on a super dangerous adventure?”

Malleus blinked. “I was thinking more along the lines of keeping you out of danger.”

“But that’s boring!” You leaned forward, poking his chest with a mischievous grin. “C’mon, big guy, don’t you ever just wanna go wild? Let loose? Maybe blow up a tower or two for funsies?”

Malleus raised an eyebrow. “Blow up a tower?”

“Yeah! Like a good ol’ fashioned castle demolition!” You threw your hands up in the air like you were some kind of crazed architect.

Malleus let out a soft sigh, but there was an undeniable hint of fondness in his gaze. “I believe we have different definitions of fun.”

“And that’s exactly why you need me,” you said with a grin. “You need some excitement in your life! Can’t just sit around being all broody and regal all the time.”

Malleus looked at you, something unreadable flickering in his emerald eyes. “You are… quite unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

You beamed. “That’s because I’m awesome.”

“That is certainly one word for it,” Malleus said, suppressing a smile.

“And you like that about me,” you teased, leaning even closer with zero respect for the concept of personal space. “Admit it. You enjoy the chaos I bring into your life.”

Malleus chuckled softly, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “It is… refreshing.”

“Ha! I knew it!” You jabbed a finger at him. “You love my reckless, devil-may-care attitude!”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it love…” Malleus started, but you were already on a roll.

“Face it, Tsunotarou! You’re absolutely smitten with my chaotic energy.”

Malleus watched you with that same fond amusement, his eyes glimmering in the moonlight. “You are certainly… something,” he said, his voice soft, yet filled with warmth.

“And don’t you forget it!” You twirled dramatically, like you’d just won some invisible competition. “Now, let’s go scare some people in the hallways. We’ll use your glowing eyes and spooky fae vibes to freak everyone out.”

Malleus sighed again but stood up, towering over you with a resigned yet playful expression. “If I agree to this madness, will you at least promise not to throw yourself into any more dangerous situations today?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. No promises, but I’ll try.”

“That is the best I can hope for, it seems,” Malleus murmured, shaking his head with an affectionate smile.

As you grabbed his hand and began to drag him toward your latest scheme, Malleus couldn’t help but think that, for all your recklessness and lack of self-preservation, you brought a kind of chaos into his life that he hadn’t realized he was missing.

And strangely enough, he didn’t mind it.

Masterlist

[xxstylefntsyxx]

DAISUKE EATING THEIR PARTNER WHILE THEY PLAY VIDEO GAMES.

My first ask!? Omg hehehe, I've been waiting for this day! Of course, theres others lined up too, but I would love more suggestions in the future! Thank you and for your patience hears your prize! It a bit short... but bear with me. I've been busy lately!!

Girls And Video Games

The ship was quiet today, nothing needing fixing and Curly was letting everyone take the day off. You decided why not go to your boyfriends room and hangout with his cool toys?

You grabbed a blanket and some snacks from your room to go down to his. You heard some music and what sounded like daisuke cursing.

"Fuck!" You heard as you opened the door. He was sitting on his bed with his headphones plugged in. You could see he was playing Mario kart on hamis switch. You came over to him and light tapped his shoulder.

He jumped, "Shit!"

"Heyy!" You said sitting down. Daisuke threw his arms on you, pulling ykj down on the soft bedding. "Babeeee! Hi, what have you been doing!? You sleep good? Miss me? Love you! Did you come to see meee? Oh you shouldn't have!" He was overly excited for you and it made you giggle on the inside. He kissed all over your face and neck, "Mm~ someone smells really fucking good!" He said, taking a deep breath in. You squirm, feeling his hair tickle you.

"Heyy! I didn't come here for thisss! I came cause you said you'd let me play Super Smash Bros with you!" You pushed his shoulders gently. He pulled back, kissing your forehead.

He sat back to set the game up for you two. He slipped to the floor to sit between your legs. "Kay baby, choose your character! Me, I fuck with King Dee Dee Dee." (Yall please, he's my fave cause he's so cute... imma Kirby gurl though.)

"Donky Kong." You said. He looked up at you, those brown eyes that mesmerized you. He gave you a tight, "Pfft."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "What!?"

"Stop grabbing. " He said dryly.

"Stop, smashing." You said.

"Get closer you coward." You said with an annoyed grin.

Daisuke rolled his eyes and started the match.

As the game went on, you both became heated. Throwing insults and raged outbursts until eventually.

"Fuck you, I won!" You said. He looked up itu a goofy smile, "Cause I let you. Stupid girl~"

Your face felt hot, looking away from him and ruffling his hair. You decided on playing animal crossing while he laid between your thighs, lovingly squeezing and kissing them.

You were too far gone trying to fish and fuck around going bankrupt, not noticing his advances.

He slowly started nipping and sucking your thighs, groaning internally as he did. You moaned a bit when he slowly trailed his lounge over the sensitive spots he bruised.

"What are you-?"

"Hush, and continue playing. You're making me bankruot, might as well pay me?" He said in a low voice. He sounded bored and out if it, but you knew he had a motive.

You continued playing while he was still being mischievous. You felt him turn around fully, his breath ghosting over your thighs. He took his hand and pushed your stomach until you laid all the way back.

"You okay dai?" You asked still not looking down at what he was doing. He responded with a mumbled yes and started slowly bringing your shorts down. You whined and he quietly shushed you, "Hush, last time I got caught it wasn't so good for me. Be good baby."

He continued on, kissing down your stomach until he made it to your panties. Like he was unprovoked on the position he put you in, he pushed your legs apart until they were wide enough for him to slip between.

You were trying to distract yourself from the growing wetness dampening your panties. He licked a long stripe up your clothed cunt before settling on your clit.

Slow licks that sent shock down your spine and made you slightly moan. He pushed them aside slowly, watching you stick to them slightly.

"Holy shit. I haven't done anything to you yet~ Selfish girl." He purred. You jolted, his tongue seeped between your quivering folds, licking up your sweet fluids like it was sweetener, earning a rich and satisfied groan.

"Fuck you're delicious. So fucking good." He whispered against you.

You were trembling, trying to hold the console in your hands while simultaneously indulging in such lewd acts against your body. Your back arched unconsciously when his tongue swirled aroudn your sensitive clit.

"Ah- shit!" You moaned, unable to keep focus. He gave a small smirk, spitting on your clit and licking it off.

Two arms locked your legs around his shoulders and gently he began undoing your most sensitive spots and making you a mess.

He started shaking his head, suckling your precious pearl like it was candy.

He had a knack for eating messily. Leaving you drenched in saliva and your juices down your ass and onto the bed.

"H-hey! Wait!" But it was too late. His tounge traced a singular line up, leaving you aching. The pleasure he gave you was on another planet.

You felt the coils in your stomach coming undone, arching and grinding into his face, wanton moans leaving your wet lips.

"Dai! I'm gonna-" and then he stopped. That pressure building ceased and left you with this buzzed feeling downway.

You shot up immediately to see what the problem was, for a second you thought you did something so you were cautious to make sure he wasn't hurt or anything, but he was smiling up at you, "Mm? Sorry, pretty, not yet♡"

"What!? What the hell, if this is about earlier, I won fair and square! You're being a tease and I wanted to cum why!?" You were pouting, he loved that. It made him stiff, but that was for later, right now though...

He stood up, grabbing a joystick and sitting beside you, "Well, I'm a sore loser, so best two out of three?"

"If you lose daisuke, I'm going to fuck you up do for this." You snarled. Daisyke didn't care, though. He knew a way to best you fair and square without even cheating. Beating you at a game of, "Jumpforce?"

"No. Dude that's fucking cheating cause you know I'm bad at that! Can't we just have fucking sex!" You whined.

"No, you're being a baby right now, Y/N~" He sung to you, his fingers trailed your thigh to your cunt. He split your thighs apart, slipping his fingers tontouch your clit. You moaned, "Daisuke~"

He licked your neck before sucking it, "Stop being a whine and play the game baby~"

"You're such a tease, daisuke. Such a fucking tease."

[blacksea2109]

RED HOOD'S WIFE

🦇🖤❤️👻🔫

DCXDP

Jason todd x danny Nightingale

Hii i hope you enjoy it , I am super crazy for this couple

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

Jason and danny was married for so long but Jason don't bother to till his family because danny dear it is non of thier fuckin business, so imagine Danny's luck with the batfam tried to get him to join the family while his is already a part of it , Jason stop laughing it is not funny or you will sleep in the couch tonight!!

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

Danny owns a cozy little coffee shop in crime alley , and of course, it becomes Tim's favorite shop because he is allowed to have an illegal amount of shots !! Plus the Barista is just so smart funny shorter than him and so cute sue him he will get him to work in the company one way or another, but if he just stop refuses tim offers uggh, but he won't stop

Tim whined: dannyyyy please i need someone like youuuu in the company, we really need youuuuu and your amazing Brian and ideas

Danny: nope uh huh , I'm happy here in my little coffee shop tim I won't change my mind and don't try the puppy eyes it won't work on me , I will only help you some times but I won't work there .

Tim talking to himself: Then I will just make you part of the family and then problem solving. hehehehehee! Either by adoption or married 🤔 I just need to steal one of bruce adoption papers, Cass will help me she always gets excited to have new family members .

Danny texted jason: please stop your brother from stalking and trying to make me work with him jay

Jason: tim ?! Pppfft good luck there babe you need it

Danny: ohh then I hope you have a good night , cuz y will sleep on the couch today . Love

Jason typing:........

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

NEXT , danny just had to get kidnapped with bruce just his luck that the stupid kidnappers though that he was a wayne!!

( babe, you are a wayne remember! I just married one. i am not a wayne ok , sure thing, love)

Bastard 1: we are lucky not just the burce wayne but with one the brats too

Danny super annoyed and sassy: you poor bastard you really need to check your eyes because I am not a wayne fuck you

Bruce " i need to adopt all black haird blue-eyed sassy with anger issues kids " wayne: hnn when we get out of here, i will make him sign some paper 📃 ( adoption papers) for safety of course

Bastard 2: nah you have the looks so you are a wayne

Danny had have enough of this nonsense already get himself free the started hit the shit out of them by the time that nightwing and of fuck course red hood

( which has not stopped laughing for no reason! Jay i will kill you )

Red hood : pfft danny i can't 😂😂

Danny: Hood, i stand my point, not a wayne ok

Red hood: uh huh sure thing sugar i believe you

Danny : couch time for you mister

Bruce giving danny some paper: sign here 😊

Danny: what is this ?

Hood: no the fuckin hell old man you won't adopt him

Nightwing: why little wing, if he didn't , tim will 😂 of not damian

Hood : you fuckers stop try adopting my wife

Bruce: your

Nightwing: wife

The rest of the fam: wheeeennn did you get married!!

Mean while jason just took his short cute wife and ran away after dropping the bomb 💣

Robin: Hood, get back here this instant, you insolant fool , Nightingale will be my new cat and teacher in animal languages , gets him back or i will shall stab you

Red Robin: You how dear you hood you know i waste too long stalking and trying to make him work with me while this whole time YOU WERE MARRIED TO HIM I WILL Destroy , you 🔪

Balck bat happy: new brother ❤️

Bruce crying in the corner: married my baby boy, and I wasn't invited to the wedding 😢 🤧

Nightwing: Gasp the betrayal. How can you do this to your poor older brother ? You better did not have kids in secret. jay gets back here . You don't have kids right RIGHT!!

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

for damian part, he finds danny helping some stray kitten, and heard him prrrrrr and just: mine now , come here, kitty kitty 😺

Alfred already knows everything because come on, he is ALFRED. Of course, he knows : i must prepare a room for master danny hmm near master Jason room perfect 👌🏻 , and i need to inform him to bring his wife to dinner nights 🌙

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

I imagine it better inside my head, but yeah, anyway, I will edit it or add more later on , i am not sure when . Feel free to take any anything i write here , it or add more to it, but please tag me or send me a link and credit me in your works , have a great night or day , my cute little spooks 👻 👻👻👻🦇🦇🦇🦇 don't let the blob ghosts bit you

[dovesdreaming]

Cluelessly yours

This picture is making me so hungry

Summary: You’re crushing on Deadpool but he’s hopelessly oblivious to all your hints. You just have to come out and openly say it.

Request

Masterlist

-

You didn’t know how it had happened, but somewhere between the late-night takeout runs and the endless banter, you’d developed a crush on Wade Wilson. Sure, he wasn’t the textbook definition of “Prince Charming” what with the mercenary lifestyle, endless stream of sarcasm, and tendency to get a little too enthusiastic about explosions but there was something about him. Maybe it was his humor, his weirdly thoughtful moments, or the way he’d show up at your place with your favorite snacks after a rough day. Whatever it was, you were hopelessly crushing on him.

There was just one problem: Wade was completely oblivious. You sat on the couch in your apartment, flipping through a magazine but not really reading it, waiting for Wade to show up like he said he would. He had promised to bring pizza and hang out after his "super-secret, definitely-not-a-date-with-death" mission today, and as usual, you found yourself thinking about how to finally tell him how you felt. But every time you tried to be a little flirty, a little more obvious, he’d just… miss it. Or worse, take it as a joke and deflect with some ridiculous comment.

The sound of the front door slamming open yanked you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Wade, in full Deadpool gear, standing in the doorway holding a pizza box over his head like a trophy. “Guess who’s back from a successful slaughter fest?” he announced. “That’s right, it’s me. And I brought pizza! I figured you’d want to carbo-load after a long day of being awesome”. You smiled, grateful that he was always so... thoughtful, in his own Wade-ish way. “Thanks, Wade. You’re the best”. He tossed the pizza box onto the coffee table and plopped down on the couch beside you, stretching his legs out with a satisfied sigh. "Well, I know that. But keep saying it, I never get tired of hearing it”. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small grin that spread across your face. Wade had that effect on you, no matter how chaotic your day was, he always managed to make you laugh. And even though he had no idea you liked him, he was always so nice to you. Thoughtful, in his own ridiculous way.

Wade nudged you playfully with his elbow. “Soooo, whatcha been up to, gorgeous? Miss me while I was off doing my superhero-slash-homicidal thing?” Your heart skipped a beat at the casual compliment. You glanced at him, trying to play it cool, though you felt heat rising in your cheeks. “Maybe I did” you teased. “Who else is going to bring me pizza and call me ‘gorgeous’?” Wade laughed, grabbing a slice of pizza. “Well, good thing I’ve got you covered on both fronts! Pizza and compliments? I’m your guy”. He took a big bite, speaking around a mouthful of food. “Seriously, though, you could do way better than a burnt chimichanga like me”. You blinked, surprised by the casual self-deprecation in his voice. “I don’t think so” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Wade, predictably, didn’t catch the weight behind your words. “Pfft, you’re just being nice” he said, leaning back and tossing his feet up onto the coffee table. “But that’s why you’re awesome. Always so nice to ol’ Wade”. You felt a twinge of frustration. He really was clueless. How could he not see it? How could he not realize that you wanted to be nice to him, to be around him, because you liked him? You sighed, setting your magazine aside. Maybe it was time to push the envelope just a little more. If he didn’t get it after this, then maybe he really was a lost cause. “So, Wade” you began, turning slightly to face him. “Do you ever… I don’t know, think about dating?” Wade raised an eyebrow behind his mask, looking genuinely confused. “Dating? Me? Babe, look at this face”. He gestured to his mask, clearly referring to the scars beneath. “I’m not exactly prime boyfriend material. Most people would run screaming in the opposite direction”. You frowned, your heart clenching at his words. “That’s not true” you said firmly. “You’re funny, caring… you’re way more than just your appearance”.

Wade blinked, clearly taken aback by your sudden seriousness. “Uh… thanks?” He scratched the back of his neck, clearly unsure how to take the compliment. You hesitated, your heart pounding. This was your moment either he got it, or he didn’t.“What if I told you…” You took a breath, feeling the words catch in your throat. “That someone… really liked you? That someone… I thought you’d be great boyfriend material?” Wade froze, pizza slice halfway to his mouth, staring at you with wide eyes. There was a long, awkward pause before he finally responded, voice hesitant. “Wait… are you saying… you like me?” You bit your lip, nodding. “Yeah, Wade. I do”. He sat there, still holding the pizza slice, completely silent for what felt like an eternity. Your heart sank a little, thinking you’d misread everything, that maybe he wasn’t interested in you that way at all.

Then, finally, Wade snapped out of it. “Wait. Hold the chimichangas. You, you- gorgeous, smart, amazing you- like me? Like, in the 'I wanna kiss your weird, scarred face' kinda way?” You felt your cheeks flush, but you nodded again, trying to keep from laughing at the way he phrased it. “Yes, Wade. I like you”. Wade blinked, then dropped the pizza slice back into the box, turning to face you fully. “Holy crap. You’re serious”“Completely”. He stared at you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable under the mask. Then, without warning, he let out a loud, exaggerated gasp and clutched his chest dramatically. “Oh my god! How did I not see this?!” You couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top reaction, the tension in the room instantly melting. “Because you’re oblivious, Wade. I’ve been flirting with you for weeks”.

“Weeks?!” Wade slapped his forehead. “And I missed it all? Wow, I’m worse than I thought. My obliviousness is like a superpower all on its own. Should I put that on my résumé?” You laughed again, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Wade might’ve been oblivious, but at least now he knew. And from the look on his face- or at least, what you could see of it- it wasn’t a bad thing. “So…” Wade leaned forward slightly, his usual cocky grin creeping back. “Does this mean I can ask you on a date? Or do I need to wait for more obvious hints next time?” You smirked. “Wade, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out for weeks. You don’t need any more hints”.

His grin widened beneath the mask, and he reached out, grabbing your hand in his gloved one. “Well then, in that case, how about we make this pizza party an official date? You, me, Dogpool- candlelight, bad rom-coms, and excessive snuggling?” You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “That sounds perfect”. Wade squeezed your hand, his voice dropping to a soft, genuine tone. “Hey, thanks for liking me. Scars and all. You’re… you’re pretty damn great, you know that?” You leaned in, your smile warm as you looked at him. “You’re pretty great too, Wade”.

[literaila]

ALSO I feel like Megumi has been on this engagement ring secret for a long time. Gojo took him to buy the ring under the guise of “father & son bonding time” and had to DRAGGG Megumi from the house. But once Megs was told what was going on, he took it a lot more seriously, and Satoru couldn’t help but be a little bit more serious, too.

“hey, megumi,” satoru pockets his wallet, getting his glasses off the entryway table. “c’mon, we’re leaving.”

megumi, who is sitting on the couch, flipping through some dumb book, frowns. “for what?”

“a mission.”

“but i thought you said—“

“where are you guys going?” you ask satoru, turning down the hallway. you’re fixing a bracelet and walking over to him to readjust his buttons (he did it wrong on purpose).

“a mission.”

you raise a brow, lips pursed. “i thought we were saving those for weekends.”

“i don’t control the curses, sweetheart,” satoru grins. “you’re so pretty.”

“i’m immune to your sweet talking.”

“impossible.”

megumi is slipping on his boots, frowning at the two of you. “you said nothing until sunday last week.”

satoru kisses your head, stepping passed you to throw his arm around megumi’s shoulder. “this is a special trip,” he says easily.

megumi rolls his eyes, pushing him off. but he walks towards the door anyway, not bothering to argue.

“don’t be too hard on him,” you tell satoru, giving him a look only he knows.

and you really are pretty—with your hair a bit messy and your eyes crinkled. the little lines by your lips as you attempt to refrain a smile.

satoru ruffles your hair, walking with his back turned out the door. “whatever you say, dear.”

“be safe!” you call to megumi, waving to him.

“bye, mom.”

but as soon as the door is shut megumi turns. “where are we actually going?”

“what do you mean?”

“i know there’s no mission,” he say, flatly.

“and how would you know that?”

“because it’s down season and you’re a terrible liar. and you would’ve told me already because mom likes to know before we go.”

gojo hums, considering it. “that’s… true. and i’m not a terrible liar.”

“uh-huh.”

“i need your help with something.”

megumi makes a face. “really?”

“yes, really. will you stop making that face?”

“what face?”

“your ‘i know better than you,’ face.”

“well, i do.”

gojo smirks, clasping his hands together as he walks. “exactly why i need your help!”

megumi groans, shaking his head, but he follows satoru—because, really, what else is he supposed to do?

and he lets gojo talk the whole way there. about mostly nothing, with a few details about jujutsu that megumi makes a mental note of. it’s only when gojo turns to open the door of a small shop that he finally stops talking.

megumi looks up, then winces. “you’re not buying tsumiki more earrings, are you? i was the one that had to deal with her crying last time. for an hour.”

“pfft,” gojo holds the door open for him. “i’m saving that for sixteen.”

megumi sighs but walks into the jewelry store, immediately hit with the smell of plastic and burning metal. “what are you getting, then?”

“what are we getting,” gojo corrects, suddenly looking a bit giddy. “i need a ring.”

“a ring?”

“mm-hmm.”

megumi scoffs. “for what?”

“your mom.”

megumi frowns, looking over to gojo—to where he’s perched over a glass case, carefully inspecting an array of cut diamond rings. “like—like an engagement ring?”

gojo only hums.

megumi blinks. he’s known that the two of you were together since he was at least eight—even if you wouldn’t admit it then—so he shouldn’t be shocked. he’s watched you roll your eyes at gojo fondly every time he refers to you as his wife… and still.

tsumiki would be on the ground if she found out, he thinks. no way she could ever keep this secret.

though megumi sees how much gojo loves you. he might’ve been young, but he’s watched the two of you mend together like steel. watched your lives combine and your hearts attach.

he couldn’t imagine anyone else quite suited for you.

and, though he’ll deny it, in the pit of his heart there’s a yearning for the type of love that you and gojo have. the understanding and complete confidence in each other. you’ve made him witness to your story, and it’s not something the boy will ever easily forget.

but he doesn’t tell gojo that. only takes a step towards the case, grunting. “took you long enough,” he mutters, and says nothing else.

they look for a long time. megumi doesn’t know a lot about rings—and neither does gojo. but they both know you, and very well.

they argue over the difference between a pear and oval cut, debating how big the rock should be. megumi thinks it should be more intricate, and gojo only wants the most expensive, eye catching ones.

he frowns at the boy. “my wife needs the best, fushiguro.”

“she’s not even your wife yet.”

gojo tries to get megumi to try some on, and when megumi refuses he pouts for about three minutes.

“but you have such dainty fingers,” he whines, “they’re probably the same size as hers.”

megumi almost hits him for that one.

but in the end, gojo is tapping his fingers against the glass counter with both excitement and anxiety, unable to keep still.

megumi might be staring a little bit. but it’s amusing to watch a grown man absolutely fall apart over a ring smaller than his palm.

“do you think she’ll like it?” gojo asks, eventually, after he’s grown too tired of the silence.

megumi smirks, so small that it’s barely noticeable. “maybe.”

[wcnderlnds]

spooky scary movies | peter maximoff

✧ fluff/angstober day one | scary movies ✧

・❥・warnings: peter is a lil suggestive bc he’s peter and mentions of chucky ig. ・❥・ authors note: a day later than i wanted but we here. also trying out a new format 💕

“Sweet! What snacks we got?” Peter jumped over the back of the couch, sitting down next to you. It took him no time at all to start rummaging through the snacks you’d placed on the small coffee table.

Somehow, you had managed to convince Peter to have a scary movie marathon with you. Spooky season was finally here and there was no better way to kick things off than with a marathon of all the best spooky movies. It was even more of a necessity when Peter had told you he hadn’t seen most of the ones you’d listed off to him. How could he not have seen the classics like Friday The 13th or Nightmare on Elm Street?

Peter wasn’t exactly the type of guy that sat and watched movies. He had tried — he had really tried so many times but sitting still for such a long period of time wasn’t in his repertoire. Focusing on just one thing for more than ten minutes was hard, he constantly had to be on the go, had to be doing something. Sitting down and watching something for almost two hours seemed like torture to him. It was so slow. Too slow but for you, he’d get his shit together and give it a go even if it pained him. Besides, it was worth it to see the wide smile on your face. Your excitement made him feel all gross and tingly inside — he hated the feeling and loved it all at the same time.

“Peter,” you scolded him, batting his hands away. “Don’t finger all the food before the movies even started.”

“I’d like to finger someth-” You cut him off with your hand over his mouth before he could even finish his sentence.

“Behave,” you blushed, moving your hand away when he licked your palm. “Gross.”

He snickered, quickly snatching a Twinkie off the table. He leaned back against the couch, ripping it open and almost stuffing the whole thing in his mouth. All you could do was roll your eyes. Typical Peter but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

The silver haired speedster had had your heart for the last six months. It had been a slow blossoming romance. It had started with lingering looks, hugs that lasted longer than they should’ve until one day he had ran right up to you and, in a flurry of words, had asked you on a date. From there things had only grown and here you were now.

Peter’s arms were stretched out on the back of the couch, one of his legs crossed over the over. He looked like the epitome of comfortable as he finished chewing his Twinkie. “We’re watching the one with the weird doll first, right?”

“Chucky and yes, we are.” She hit play on the movie. Peter had insisted they watch this one first because the idea of a killer doll seemed hilarious to him.

An hour into the movie and you were cuddled into his side with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. His leg was bobbing up and down, his fingers drumming on the arm of the couch. It was getting harder and harder for him to stay still but the fact he was trying for you warmed your heart. You looked at him, his eyes were focused on the movie until you placed your hand on his bouncing knee.

“Hey,” he smiled down at you.

“You hate this, don’t you?”

“What? No! I…. it’s just hard for me to stay still but I’m enjoying it, promise. Being here with you, watching this freaky little doll is a blast. Promise, babe.”

You searched his eyes for any sign that he was just telling you what you wanted to hear. When you found none, you cupped his cheek. “You’re too good to me, Peter Maximoff.”

���Pfft, shutup.”

“Make me.”

Peter grinned. In one swift movement, his lips were on yours in a soft, gentle kiss. His hands gripped your hips to pull you into his lap, your arms wrapping around his neck as you settled into him. His tongue traced along your bottom lip and it took no time at all for you to part your lips, his tongue meeting yours. The movie was completely forgotten now. As the kiss grew more passionate, Peter slid his hands under your shirt, holding your waist. A content sigh passed his lips briefly before they captured yours again.

It was very, very reluctantly that he pulled away. His forehead rested gently on yours, his eyes closed until he spoke and ruined the moment in only the way he could. “So, this Chucky doll… he’s totally real, right?”

[xinxiaogato]

— snip! snip! snip...!

summary. the hairstyle of the guy with indigo eyes was very specific: a short jellyfish cut that ended at the base of his neck with wispy, sparse bangs lined up in the front. however, what would happen if your boyfriend gave someone free rein to a pair of scissors near his head?

love interests. gn!reader x kabukimono, scaramouche, and wanderer. (separately)

warnings. cursing, jealousy, unedited, and a lil spicy during wanderer’s part.

word count. 3,506.

note. let’s pretend both niwa and the nameless child (named “isamu” here) are alive at the same time for this fic… you are referred to as “reader” by the way!

꒰ 傾奇者 ꒱ — kabukimono

your cutie patootie of a boyfriend always burst through the door after working at the forge and embraced you as if centuries had passed since the last time you saw each other.

but today, for some odd reason, when you heard the familiar squeak of the front door, that squeak wasn’t followed by the usual croon of your name and a rush of footsteps toward you. instead, you listened to kabukimono wordlessly pad into the bathroom…

and he didn’t come out.

concerned for his well-being, you quickly made your way outside the room he barricaded himself in and knocked on the door twice. “kabukimono?” you called for him. “are you all right?”

silence.

and then you heard him sniffle.

“y-yeah, i’m okay,” his voice returned meekly. “please don’t worry about me…”

your heart squeezed tightly in your chest. “wait, are you crying?"

"..."

"kabukimono, please let me know what’s going on. we can work it out together. you know that.”

you prepared to give him space if there was no reply, but the door creaked open shortly after. you took that as an invitation to walk in but was abruptly glomped by him, his face buried into your chest.

“kabukimono!” startled, you tried to gently push your boyfriend off, but it was like the two of you got stuck together by adhesive glue.

“what happened?” you asked with what breath he hadn’t squeezed out of your lungs.

kabukimono was so, so embarrassed. half of the reason he refused to budge was the shame for not greeting you properly…

…but the other half was the atrocity that had become of his front bangs!

previously, niwa had noticed them getting a tad too long to the point they were poking into kabukimono’s eyes, so like a good samaritan, niwa suggested to give them a little trim. 

kabukimono should’ve protested a little harder when he saw niwa take out scissors the size of gardening shears.

“n-niwa…!” quivered kabukimono as he gawked at himself through a shard of glass.

“i’m so sorry, friend; this is all my fault! but it doesn’t look too bad?”

“…niwa, reader is going to break up with me.”

niwa offered up his bandana for kabukimono to wear home, but kabukimono knew he’ll have to face this dilemma head-on sooner or later.

however, the closer he got to his and your house of wooden veneer… the more he dreaded your reaction.

“kabukimono…” you said softly, which turned his stomach. “…may i see your face?”

“…”

against his better judgment, the wandering samurai peeled his face off of your clothes and angled it so that you could glimpse his bangs, which were much shorter than you were accustomed to. your lips parted in mild surprise as you took another second to process this.

“…i look terrible,” kabukimono murmured in the silence, tears pricking his bluish-purple eyes. he knew he was seconds away from bidding his quaint life with you goodbye. “p-please don’t leave me…” he added underneath his breath, his fingers gripping onto you tighter like you were about to disappear.

…so this is what he was trying to hide all along.

you let out a little “pfft” that captured his attention and then smoothed back his short bangs to plant a kiss as sweet as summer fruit on his forehead.

“kabukimono, you look perfect,” whispered you with only love in your eyes.

for the first time that night, kabukimono looked up and donned a gaze of profound intensity that felt like it was sucking you in. he really loved it when you said his name with your voice; it made him melt into a puddle. 

“i’m not gonna leave you over something this silly,” you continued, making him scrunch his face when you booped his nose. “besides, it’ll grow out.”

“really?” he croaked.

“really. now how about you wake up isamu while i get dinner ready?”

kabukimono blinked away tears that had threatened to spill down his cheeks earlier. you always dispelled his worries in a flash no matter how trivial they were. why did he ever have doubts in the first place? you were his sanctuary—the end-all to his anxiety of being abandoned. “okay!”

꒰ 国崩 ꒱ — scaramouche

slam!

that sound of the door to his bedroom was nothing to sneeze at, but the fact that the fatui harbinger didn’t greet you with a kiss on the lips as per usual was. hell, you didn’t even get the chance to see his face when he came home. that either meant he was really angry or really tired, and whether he joined you for dinner was up to you to test the waters.

tonight, you were feeling brave. how could he turn down your infamous chicken katsu?

“scara!” you exclaimed, wiping your hands on a towel before approaching the lion’s den. “i made dinner! or would you prefer a shower? or perhaps… moi?”

“…”

“i know you’re in there. at least give me a sign that you’re alive.”

“...”

“scaramouche! scaramouche! will you do the fandango?”

“...”

“sc-scara, there’s a fire in the kitchen!”

“…”

“seriously?”

well, you supposed you should’ve saved that one for later. you used that excuse last week to lure him out.

heaving a sigh, you turned on your heel to accept eating alone for the night when scaramouche suddenly whipped the door open and encircled his arms around you from behind, pulling a shocked you to his chest and locking you in place.

“if you turn around, we’re breaking up,” he grumbled into your ear.

“huh!?” you thrashed around in scaramouche’s grip to no avail. “that’s not something you can just decide on your own!”

“don’t care. if you saw me—!”

if you saw him, you would most definitely laugh, and the last thing scaramouche wanted to be was a laughing stock to his lover. of course he would cast aside his ego when it came to your reputation, but archons forbid you seeing him as something pitiable. not if he could help it.

“don’t you realize i’ll be more upset if i didn’t get to see your handsome face, darling?” you whined with futile tugs and twists at his wrists. “as to whatever happened, it can’t be that bad!”

oh, it was bad. really bad.

“the most important thing is eye contact!” declared his colleague with the irritatingly bright locks of orange hair. “after all, there’s a saying that eyes are the windows of the soul. how else are you supposed to communicate your feelings to them?”

“...dude, you don’t even have light in your eyes,” scaramouche responded. “why should i take advice from you?”

“what does that have to do with anything?”

sandrone’s massive puppet smacked tartaglia upside the head as she scowled. “stop making a ruckus, and just cut the balladeer’s bowlcut already. he looks homeless.”

“yes, i don’t think we can handle the sixth harbinger’s lamentation about his relationship much longer,” arlecchino grumbled, her eyes turning so far upward that they almost rolled right out of the room.

“none of you guys were even supposed to know about it!” scaramouche roared with fury practically emanating off of him.

this outburst had all the other partygoers of the tsarita’s banquet turning their heads. they couldn’t believe their eyes, but it was true. all ten executive heads of the fatui were gathered together in one place (fly high, signora). even the harbingers themselves never thought something like this would happen if it weren’t for you, who scaramouche had introduced and (to his dismay) had made them all smitten toward you. even the tsaritsa thought you were pleasant.

the fatui harbingers could not refuse your suggestion to have “team bonding events”—this gala being one of them—and the animosity between these lieutenants have actually lessened over time (by a hair’s breadth).

“i can use my water blades,” tartaglia offered, who thrusted his hands forward to summon them.

scaramouche’s hands balled into fists, ready to clock the eleventh harbinger before he even had the chance. “no. a thousand times no! don’t even get those things close to me if you want to live, you asshat.”

“what… transpired this?” whispered pulcinella, unable to keep up with the youngsters’ energy.

pantalone took it upon himself to explain the situation. “word is that our dear reader complimented the hairstyle of a subordinate working underneath the balladeer,” the regrator informed as he pushed his neck-strap spectacles higher up the bridge of his nose. “since then, he has failed to complete a single assignment.”

revealing his sharp canines, dottore snickered. “in spite of that, it truly is miraculous that the kid found someone who could get past his ironclad exterior.”

columbina hummed in agreement. “it is miraculous that anyone even likes him~!”

they eventually resorted to a pair of scissors that dottore had in his coat pocket (dottore was almost disappointed when il capitano reminded everyone that he carried one), and after some convincing and straight up fist fighting, it was decidedly pulcinella who got on a stool to give scaramouche a snip.

and pulcinella… doesn’t have the best eyes.

“if it’s about your dark circles, it’s okay,” you reassured scaramouche back in the present. “i’ll always accept you the way you are.”

“i don’t have dark circles!” in a fit of rage, scaramouche spun around to glare at you while blinking several times in quick succession and—lo and behold—gave you front-row seats to pulcinella’s botched job at cutting his bangs, which now ended halfway down his forehead. scaramouche felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sight of your widened eyes before he shoved his hat into your face and stormed off.

“w-wait, scara!” you chased after him to the living room, and he still refused to face you. “that was what you were worried about me seeing?”

following that was a silence that thickened the air. you walked up to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “hey… i like guys with short hair, you know?”

…

…

…

“...but that damn skirmisher had long hair,” your boyfriend grumbled.

ah. this confirmed your suspicion that he overheard you speaking to his underling. little did scaramouche know that you had just been asking about your boyfriend’s whereabouts that day (but of course the balladeer anxiously spying on you the whole time made it impossible for you to locate him).

“i also like guys with blue hair and blue eyes.” you went to stand in front of scaramouche and placed his kasa hat back onto his head before squishing his face with your hands. he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to pull away, but the almighty harbinger became weak before you very easily. “i like guys with red eyeliner. a big hat. a haughty attitude. i like you, darling. and nothing is going to change that.”

scaramouche clenched his jaw and looked down at the floor dejectedly. “...how can you stand it though? you just said my attitude is haughty. is that… fine?”

“i’m still here, aren’t i?” you smiled. “and i’m not going anywhere. even if you went bald.”

“...do not allow that image to form in your brain, reader.”

“it’s too late.”

“reader!”

but despite the irritation laced in his voice, his lips were curled into a smile reserved only for his lover’s eyes. he liked you, too, and nothing was going to change that.

꒰ 放浪者 ꒱ — wanderer

“lesser lord kusanali.”

the dendro archon whirled around and almost let out a breath of relief at the sight of you entering the sanctuary of surasthana, your fingers intertwined behind your back. “grand sage, it is good to see you,” nahida greeted earnestly. “i’m sorry for contacting you on such short notice, but you were the only one i could think of reaching out to.”

“really?” you cocked an eyebrow as you descended down the white stone walkway. not at all did you mind chatting with nahida when you had the chance, but if you were the only person capable of solving her problem, it must be serious. “what could be the matter?”

“well… it’s rather a long story.” scratching her cheek, the dendro archon recounted what took place that morning.

“what are you thinking about?” the little archon questioned as she and wanderer strolled along the outskirts of the city.

wanderer kicked a rock that had the misfortune of being in his path. “you and i both know the answer to that,” he stoically replied.

“has it been that long since you and reader have seen each other?”

those words made something in wanderer’s chest feel a foreign pang, one that only occurred when he envisioned your face.

“i know that they’re busy with official affairs,” he scoffed, coming to a full stop. nahida followed suit, looking back at him with a hand to her heart. “it just can’t be safe for humans to stay cooped up inside of their offices all day long.”

nahida knew the nonchalance in wanderer’s tone was just a cover-up for how much he missed you, and the archon was all too familiar with that feeling. “wanderer—”

“i’m gonna make them regret prioritizing their work over me.”

with a tip of his hat, wanderer started trudging back the way they came.

“hey, wait!” she rushed after him and clung onto one of the blue fabrics dangling from the back of his head covering, which yanked him back toward her.

“what?” he deadpanned.

“how are you planning to make reader regret it?” she asked her disciple, anxious about letting him out of her sight.

“...”

wanderer recalled overhearing a conversation in the grand bazaar. a woman was fawning over her husband’s new appearance, who shaved off his beard earlier that day because he wanted to surprise her, and it was like she fell in love with him for the first time all over again.

wanderer wanted you to fall in love with him all over again.

“haircut,” he grunted.

“haircut?” nahida echoed.

“i want a haircut.” wanderer blatantly pointed at his head.

nahida took a moment to process his request before breaking out into a smile antagonistic to his scowl. “leave it to me!”

“and that was my first time cutting someone’s hair…” concluded nahida quite dejectedly. “...so you can imagine his fury when he got his hands on a mirror…”

“oh, archons,” you muttered right in front of her, slapping a hand to your face. “where is he now?”

“i’m not sure… i think he grumbled something about curling up in a corner and never seeing a single person again before he flew away.”

the only place you could imagine he escaped to was your shared home together in sumeru city, which was the biggest decision you two had carried out together in your relationship so far. however, you had no idea that the house became such a lonely place for wanderer. anguish squeezed your heart as you pictured him eating dinner alone, pretending the food was satiating like you had suggested in the past because he had wanted to be more human. “like you,” he had said.

“please let the other sages know i am taking an early leave,” i said, pivoting on my heel. “lunch is on me tomorrow!”

“good luck!” nahida called out to you, and as you pushed through the doors of the sanctuary, you felt like you grew wings right there and then.

when was the last time you inhaled a breath of fresh air…?

you dashed home as fast as your little legs (that had been stationary for what? six days?) could carry you home. along the way, nilou stopped you to discuss performing for the people in aaru village, cyno wished to speak about dispatching additional soldiers to monitor trade in the caravan ribat, and al haitham wanted a vacation(?)

however, you had to direct each one of them to your p.o. box because there was one request that waited to be fulfilled for a long, long time.

“babe!” you exclaimed, stumbling a bit as you peeled off your shoes at the doorway. “babe, are you home?”

silence. every step you took further down the hallway entrance felt like stepping onto an eggshell, and your mind started to wonder. was he not actually here? where could he have gone then?

“babe—”

in a flash, you were tightly enveloped by a pair of arms that knocked the wind out of your lungs. you almost lost your footing if it weren’t for the wall right behind you while, in front of you, your lover’s shaking eyes were trying to immortalize every detail of your face onto the canvas of his mind.

“reader…” wanderer mumbled, his cold hands cupping your cheeks like they were made of glass. “you’re here.”

a complicated feeling began to creep up inside of your chest. you didn’t even have the heart to “pfft” at his bangs that looked like a kindergartener had cut it (which wasn’t far from the truth). the crooked ups and downs of his bangs were the least of your concerns.

“i’m so sorry, wanderer,” you whispered as you reached up and gently held his wrists. “i’ve been so busy with attending meetings and approving requests that—”

“shut it.”

wanderer leaned in and hungrily captured your lips with his, and it didn’t take long before they began to trail butterfly kisses down your jaw and to your neck. his grazing teeth coaxed small noises from your mouth as they made light work of your sensitive skin.

“wanderer, wait…”

he pulled back momentarily to look you dead in the eye. “i have waited far too long,” wanderer snarled. “just let me have you, reader…”

you could not risk losing the ability to walk like last time. an idea came over you in that moment to break the spell clouding wanderer’s eyes with lust and desire.

“i’M gONna mAke tHem rEGret pRioriTiziNg thEir worK oVEr Me!” you cried out dramatically as if you had been fatally wounded.

your allusion was so out of character that it completely caught him off guard. as wanderer pressed his lips into a thin line, he created some room for jesus between his body and yours and asked in a contemptuous voice, “did lesser lord kusanali make you come here?”

“of course not. i’m here because of you, babe.” you chuckled. “did you think i wouldn’t notice all the subliminal messages you planted in your works?”

wanderer’s eyes widened in light of that. “you read the scholars’ papers?”

“not typically, but i asked the sage of the vahumana darshan to provide me with yours,” you clarified.

you adored the way your partner wrote—even if he always acted like crafting those essays together was a chore. reading his dissertation on societal issues in inazuma was actually how you two crossed paths, as you voraciously sought the author behind it. who would have predicted that the aloof, cold stranger nahida introduced to you as “hat guy” became your clingy mess of a boyfriend years later?

“whatever, don’t pull that disappearing act on me again,” he snapped, flicking your forehead in an odd display of affection. you held back a few colorful words from the sheer strength he put into that finger.

“it’s not like i was trying to avoid you,” you stated. “plus, i would argue that you disappeared, too, babe. even our archon couldn’t surmise where you ran off to.”

“well, you knew where to find me.” and that’s all that matters, he chose not to add.

a soft laugh bubbled from your throat as you directed your attention back to what made him disappear in the beginning. “hey… there’s no need to doll yourself up to get my attention.” you gently swept his silky bangs to the side. “you are always on my mind and even more so when we’re apart.”

a hush descended over the world around you two as wanderer squinted his troubled eyes and averted them to the floor in deep thought.

he could not kid himself any longer. you, a measly and pathetic mortal, had successfully slipped past the outer shell he built to fool irminsul into believing that he was not an individual worthy of loving, existing, redeeming.

“...”

“wanderer?”

"...rea..."

reader, each day felt longer than the last without you by my side.

i never thought i would have a person in this world who wanted me as much as you do.

 if i had to thank beelzebub for one thing, it would be creating me so that i could meet you.

you are the center of my universe.

“teyvat to wanderer…?”

but wanderer would rather die than say allat. hmm, maybe he’ll put those heartfelt words on paper so that you can read them in your office, giggling and kicking your feet.

in the meantime, he settled on dragging you to the bedroom. “you’re getting punished anyway.”

“wha…!? wait, wanderer!”

but on the inside, you were so happy that it didn’t matter if your boyfriend had to fly you to the akademiya every morning for the next several days. you wished for nothing to take away the beautiful smile you could see creeping onto his face.

© xinxiaogato. please do not translate my work without permission or attempt to plagiarize it.

[milkytheholy1]

Fitness Regime

REQUEST: Shadow x reader who likes to flirt with him a lot? 

----

You had known Shadow for an awfully long time, not as long as Rouge had known him or even Sonic for that matter. But time had passed and with that, the birth of an unusually bizarre friendship, that you dreamed would blossom into something more, was spear-headed your way. 

It was just your average, boring day, patrolling the cosmos in a rusted ship you called home. G.U.N had shipped you off on a space assignment before you could even sign your name on the health and safety document. But it wasn't all bad, you had Shadow with you for a start. Though you assumed he wasn't completely thrilled by your presence, especially when the white-fanged bat 'persuaded' you to go flirt with him relentlessly. 

"You're doing it again," he huffed, stretching his fingers down to touch the tips of his rocket shoes. You folded your arms over your chest, a smug smile on your face, "Why, I don't know what you mean. I'm simply...inspecting your workout regime."

"Is that what they call it these days?" he mused, although the slant of his lips gave off annoyed old man vibes, the devious glint in his eyes told a much different story. You paced around his form, watching with precision as he jumped and dived into different workout positions. At some point you waltzed right up to him, plucking a singular hair from his brow, "Looks to me like you're getting sloppy."

"Pfft, looks to me like you're blind," he muttered, arrogance laced his tone. You took a step back, Shadow copying your position, "Is that a challenge I hear?"

"Are you deaf now too?" he chuckled, picking up a wooden stick. It somewhat resembled a sword, but unlike a katana crafted with care for years, this 'sword', if you can even call it that, was chipped and scuffed by the countless months in use. Shadow presented you with your own stick, quickly assuming a defensive stance, "First one to get knocked down wins."

And just like that he was off, there was no real chance of you ever going to win if this was how he played. Though you should have known this by now, this is how Shadow was, it was how he worked. He was a good fighter, but a bigger cheat. 

You fought effortlessly, twisting and turning with each swing. With each clang and subsequent pant, you dipped and weaved under each other like it was a rehearsed dance. You stumbled under one of his attacks, a bright and eager smile adorning his lips, "What's wrong? Is winning against me too hard?" 

You could almost melt with the way he said it, so obnoxious but not at all malice. It was nice to see Shadow like this, not bothered and free to be himself; it was one of the reasons why you were so desperately in love with him. He noted your lack of response, pulling his sword away only slightly, "No witty comeback?" he swung again.

You tumbled to the floor with the grace of a flailing bird that hadn't quite captured the magic of flight yet. Your sword was kicked from your hand, your heart beating from the adrenaline, your chest almost a prison. Darkness grew over you, Shadow in all his smug glory. You're certain your face turned to a shade of red that had yet to be put on the colour scale.

"Who's sloppy now?" he all but hissed.

[cod-thoughts]

I could offer you a warm embrace

Word count: 3.2k

Relationships: Ghost & Price, Team as family

Tags: Fever, a very sick Ghost, some cuddles, whump, hurt/comfort, fever-dream (ish)

Part of a project that has a tiny explanation here. Keep reading under the cut!!

AN: Hii!!!! @whumpwriterforlife Happy valentines day mate <3333 You were the first person to reach out to me in this fandom space, honestly, you're so brave it surprised me and made me try to reach out to more people so thank you!! Your writing is always such a treat honestly, you commented on my stuff and i freaked tf out i cant lie pfft. Thanks bud, you're very sweet and i hope this hit the spot for you <333

The safehouse was barely a step above a ruin.

A crumbling stone structure nestled deep in the hills, its walls thick with time, damp with the slow decay of years. It had long since been abandoned, left to weather and rot, but tonight, it was all they had. The wind howled through the cracks, carrying the scent of rain-damp earth, and the cold settled into their bones like an unwelcome guest.

They had done what they could—barricaded the entrance, laid tripwires, set up shifts for watch. It wasn’t much. If their pursuers were determined, this place wouldn’t hold. But the mission had gone to hell, and they were out of options. Now it was just a waiting game—hunker down, keep their heads low, and pray extraction came before things got worse.

Ghost was quiet.

Not an unusual thing. He was always quiet. But there was something about it this time, something different. Price noticed it first—how Ghost kept to the shadows a little more than usual, moving like he was conserving his energy rather than slipping through the dark. Soap noticed next—the way Ghost’s hands weren’t as steady when he adjusted his gear, how his fingers hesitated over the straps, fumbling for just a fraction of a second.

No one said anything.

Not at first.

They were all running on fumes. The cold had set into their muscles, exhaustion pressing heavy on their shoulders. It was easy to chalk it up to fatigue, to the weight of a mission gone sideways. And Ghost—Ghost didn’t complain. He never did.

But then came the little things.

The way Ghost shifted his stance more often than usual, like his balance was off. The way his breathing, usually so steady, had developed an uneven hitch. The way, when Price glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ghost blinking like he was trying to clear his vision.

It wasn’t until Soap spoke up that the unease settled properly in Price’s gut.

“Ghost, you alright?”

It was casual, not yet concern, but there was an edge to it. A quiet alertness.

Ghost barely turned his head. His reply was little more than a grunt, a sound more breath than voice. He wasn’t looking at them—wasn’t quite looking at anything, his gaze unfocused, sliding past them as if there was something just beyond his reach.

Price’s brow furrowed. “Ghost?”

A second passed. Then another.

Ghost finally turned to them properly, shoulders stiff, weight shifting like the effort of responding took more out of him than it should have.

Then his knees buckled.

Price was already moving before the others could react. He lunged, catching Ghost’s weight before he hit the ground, staggering slightly under the sudden dead weight.

“Shit—” Soap was already pulling out a bedroll, Gaz tearing through their sparse supplies. “Did anyone see this coming?”

“Fuck—no, I—” Gaz shook his head sharply. “One second he was fine, now he’s just—”

Price gritted his teeth, adjusting his hold. Ghost wasn’t responding, his head lolling slightly, breath shallow. Not unconscious, but damn near it.

“What the hell is this?” Soap muttered, kneeling down beside them. He looked Ghost over quickly, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure where to check first. “Is he hit?”

Price’s stomach clenched. That was the first thought that slammed into his mind, too. The mission had been a mess. The firefight had been chaos. Had Ghost taken a hit and not told them? Was there blood soaking into his gear, seeping into the black fabric where none of them had noticed?

“Check him,” Price ordered, his voice tight.

Gaz was already on it, hands moving over Ghost’s gear, searching for blood, any sign of injury. “I don’t see—” He pulled off a glove and pressed two fingers to Ghost’s pulse point. His brow furrowed. “Shit. He’s burning up.”

Price’s grip tightened. The cold had been biting all night, the wind seeping into their bones, but Ghost’s skin—Ghost’s skin was hot.

Not just warm. Wrong.

Soap’s expression shifted. “That’s not normal.”

“No,” Price muttered. It wasn’t.

Price pressed his hand against the side of Ghost’s neck, fingers brushing damp skin just below the edge of his balaclava. Too hot. Too fast. His pulse beat hard, rapid, hammering against Price’s touch.

“He’s running a fever,” Price muttered.

Soap swore under his breath, rubbing a hand down his face. “Fuckin’ hell, that’s just brilliant. Out in the middle of nowhere, sittin’ ducks, and now we’ve got him—” he gestured sharply to Ghost’s limp form, “—burnin’ up like a bloody furnace.”

“Could be an infection, you sure he isn't hit?” Gaz’s voice was tight, controlled, but Price could hear the underlying edge of worry. “Maybe from somethin’ before we even started the op. Could be anything.”

Price exhaled sharply, thinking fast. They had been pushing hard for days—too hard. Not enough food. Barely enough sleep. The cold, the rain, the exhaustion. It didn’t take much to break a body down when it was already running on empty.

“We need to get him out of this gear,” Price said, already moving.

Ghost barely stirred when they started peeling back the layers of his tactical vest, his head slumping forward for a moment before Price steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. His skin was damp with sweat beneath his shirt, heat radiating off him in waves.

They worked fast. Boots off. Gloves. Vest. Jacket.

“No signs of injury, could just be a regular fever left for too long. Stubborn git.” Price responded.

When Soap reached the mast, he hesitated.

Price did too.

Ghost had never let them near it. Not even in the worst of times. Sure, they’d seen his face but always when Ghost wanted it to be seen. 

Price stared for a second, jaw tightening. Would Ghost even be aware enough to fight them on it?

A low, pained sound left Ghost’s throat—half sigh, half exhale—and whatever hesitation Price had vanished. Now wasn’t the time.

He unbuckled the hard-shell mask carefully and lifted the hem of the balaclava just enough to press the back of his fingers against Ghost’s cheekbone. The heat there was just as bad—too much. Ghost’s face was paler than it should have been, his cheekbones flushed with fever. His breaths came in short, uneven puffs, damp strands of blond hair plastered to his forehead.  

Soap exhaled sharply. “Yeah. That’s bad.”

Price didn’t answer. He already knew.

“Right, let’s get him on a bedroll,” Price said instead.

They maneuvered Ghost down carefully, making sure he didn’t hit the cold ground too hard. His body twitched at the temperature shift, a violent, involuntary shiver wracking through him despite the burning heat under his skin.

Gaz muttered another curse, reaching for their dwindling supplies. “We don’t have much.”

Price nodded. “Do what we can.”

Gaz tossed Soap a half-empty bottle of water, the closest thing they had to spare. Soap cracked it open and pressed it to Ghost’s lips.

“C’mon, big guy,” he murmured, tilting it slightly. “Drink.”

Ghost’s brows furrowed, his lips barely parting before he weakly turned his head away.

Soap huffed, glancing at Price. “You wanna try?”

Price took the bottle, shifting to a firmer, steadier tone. “I know you can hear me. Please, drink.”

Ghost’s breathing hitched, and for a moment, Price thought he wasn’t going to respond. Then, sluggishly, he obeyed—a few shallow swallows before his body betrayed him, his strength giving out mid-sip. Price pulled the bottle back before it could spill. He exchanged a look with Soap and Gaz. This was bad.

— 

The safehouse was cold. The kind of damp, deep-seated chill that seeped into their bones no matter how many layers they wore. But Ghost burned anyway.

Even with the wind creeping through the cracks, even as the cold pressed against his exposed skin, his body was a furnace. His clothes were damp with sweat, the heat rolling off him unnatural, suffocating.

And he was getting worse.

Price watched as another violent tremor wracked through him, his body caught in that awful contradiction—burning up, yet shivering like he was freezing. His fingers twitched, his breathing hitched, his entire frame too tense for someone whose strength had drained out of him moments ago.

Soap was still crouched nearby, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “This ain’t normal, Cap.”

No. It wasn’t.

Gaz finished rummaging through their meager supplies, his movements sharp, edged with frustration. “No proper meds,” he muttered, jaw tight. “No fever reducers, barely any clean bandages left—Christ, we weren’t packed for this.”

They hadn’t been. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Right,” Price exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “We do what we can.”

Soap nodded, already reaching for the canteen again. “He needs more water.”

Price turned his attention back to Ghost. He was still too out of it, barely responding, his body curling in on itself instinctively.

Not good. Not good at all.

Price shifted forward, pressing the canteen against Ghost’s lips again. “Drink, mate.”

A weak, incoherent sound left Ghost’s throat—half protest, half confusion. His head twitched, and for a brief second, he almost flinched away.

Price frowned. “Ghost?”

Ghost’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly, but his eyes didn’t focus. Didn’t see him.

Something in Price’s gut twisted.

Gaz leaned in, frowning. “Think he even knows where he is?”

Price didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure.

Soap muttered something under his breath, then tried again, this time tapping Ghost’s cheek lightly. “Oi. No slippin’ under now. C’mon.”

Ghost blinked sluggishly, his breath stuttering. His hands twitched, fingers curling weakly into the fabric beneath him.

Then, too softly, he mumbled, “—mm’fine.”

Soap huffed. “Oh, piss off. You’re about three seconds from keelin’ over again.”

No answer.

Just another, deeper shiver that ran through Ghost’s body like a tremor beneath the surface.

Gaz grabbed one of their scarves from the gear pile and dunked it into the last of the cold water before pressing it against Ghost’s forehead. The contrast should’ve made him flinch.

It didn’t.

Price hated that.

“We’re gonna need to keep him cool,” Gaz muttered. “His fever’s climbing.”

Soap let out a slow, tense breath. “How bad are we talkin’?”

Gaz didn’t look up. “Bad.”

Silence settled between them for a moment, heavy and tense.

Then—

Ghost moved.

It was a jerky, instinctive motion as his body tensed sharply, his head turning toward Price—like he was looking for something. No, not something.

Someone.

A single word left him, breathy, strained, barely above a whisper. “…Tommy.”

Price’s chest tightened. Soap and Gaz froze. Ghost’s brows knitted together, his fevered gaze glassy, unfocused. His fingers grasped weakly at nothing, twitching against the fabric of the blanket as if he were reaching for something that wasn’t there.

Someone that wasn’t there.

“Shit,” Gaz muttered under his breath.

Soap’s jaw worked, his expression shifting. Ghost made another sound, softer this time. He tilted his head slightly, like he was listening for something, like he was caught in some place between the present and the past.

And Price hated it.

Hated the way Ghost looked so damn young in that moment. Hated the raw vulnerability in his voice, the way his body curled inward as though he were bracing for something. Price swallowed. Then, slowly, he reached out and grasped Ghost’s hand. The barest twitch of fingers. A weak, barely-there squeeze.

Price exhaled, steady, grounding. “You’re alright,” he murmured. “You’re not there anymore.”

Ghost’s breathing hitched. Price didn’t let go. Didn’t move, and Ghost let him.

The rain outside had started again. A slow, steady drizzle, the kind that seeped into the walls and made everything feel colder. Ghost, however, still burned.

The fever had him in a chokehold now, dragging him deeper. His breathing was uneven, his body too warm, his skin damp with fever-sweat. Price didn’t like the way he twitched, the way his hands kept grasping at nothing. Restless.

Soap ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. “This is bad, Cap.”

“Yeah.” Price’s voice was low, tense.

Ghost shifted again, a sharp flinch, his body jerking slightly before he curled in on himself. His hand twitched against the bedroll, fingers flexing weakly, searching. Then, before Price could react—

Ghost moved.

It was messy, uncoordinated, his body acting purely on instinct. His arm stretched out, fingers brushing the fabric of Price’s pants. Then, he latched on. His fingers curled weakly into Price’s trouser leg, his grip shaky, barely there, but determined. His body curled further inward, and then—his other hand found Price’s wrist.

Soap and Gaz froze. Price stiffened.

Ghost wasn’t fully aware, wasn’t conscious enough to know what he was doing. His body was just reacting, searching for something solid, something grounding.

And right now, that was Price. Gaz opened his mouth then quickly shut it. Soap stared. “...Well, shit.”

Ghost shifted again, his burning forehead bumping against Price’s knee, his grip tightening. A low, barely-audible sound left him, something between a sigh and a broken exhale. Then, so softly, so hoarse and fevered, it barely registered they heard a soft whisper from him. 

“Please… don’t leave again.”

Price’s chest clenched. Soap and Gaz’s expressions shifted instantly. The weight of it settled in the room. Ghost’s breath hitched, his entire body trembling despite the heat pouring off him. His hand flexed around Price’s wrist, his fingers weakly curling like he was trying to hold on. Price exhaled slowly. Carefully. Then he moved.

He pried Ghost’s hand off his trouser leg, but before Ghost could react, before his body could start searching again, Price dragged him up. Slowly, steadily, effortlessly. Ghost was half-limp, fever-drunk, barely aware, but his body reacted instantly to the shift—his arms latched onto Price’s torso, his fingers gripping his jacket. His head slumped forward, and suddenly Price had an armful of Ghost, burning hot and trembling, face pressing against his chest.

Price didn’t breathe.

Soap and Gaz looked stunned.

Ghost didn’t move away. Didn’t even flinch. He just held on.

Price swallowed, his grip adjusting, one hand pressing against Ghost’s back, grounding. Ghost shuddered. His breath stuttered against Price’s chest, and then. Another broken, fevered whisper.

“…you always leave.”

Price shut his eyes.

Soap looked away. Gaz’s jaw tightened.

Price took a slow, steady breath. Then, carefully, he shifted his hold, adjusting Ghost’s weight so he wasn’t completely sagging forward. His hand moved in slow, grounding circles, steady, constant.

And Ghost let him.

Ghost stirred slowly, the weight of exhaustion pressing heavy on his limbs. Everything felt distant, like he was floating somewhere between sleep and awareness, his body still burning hot despite the damp chill of the safehouse. His head was resting against something warm, steady, the slow, even rise and fall beneath his cheek grounding him in a way he didn’t quite understand yet.

He barely had the strength to move, but instinct told him to hold onto whatever warmth he’d found. His fingers curled slightly, catching on the rough fabric of a jacket, and somewhere in the fog of his mind, something registered.

Jacket. Tactical. Cigar. Familiar.

His breath stuttered. Ghost’s eyes cracked open, blurry and unfocused, but what little he could see was enough to confirm it. Price.

His body locked up before his brain could even catch up. A deep, creeping heat that had nothing to do with the fever curled up his spine as he realized exactly where he was. Half in Price’s lap. Practically draped over him, his head pressed against Price’s chest, his fingers still tangled in the man’s jacket like he had a right to be there.

Oh, fuck.

Ghost’s body tensed automatically, preparing to pull away, but before he could move, a warm, steady hand pressed against his back. A quiet, grounding touch—not restraining, just there.

“You awake, Simon?” Price’s voice was rough with exhaustion, but there was something else there too—something tight, something relieved.

Ghost swallowed, his throat raw. He barely had the energy to speak, but he forced the words out anyway. “M’alright.”

A quiet scoff came from nearby. “Yeah? You sure about that?”

Ghost’s gaze flicked to the side, where Soap and Gaz were both watching him, their expressions hovering between relief and exasperation. Soap let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, but there was tension behind it, something raw lingering under his usual humor. “You scared the hell out of us, big guy.”

Gaz nodded, rubbing a hand over his jaw like he was still shaking off the last several hours. “Didn’t think we’d ever see you go down like that,” he muttered, voice low. “Wasn’t a good sight.”

Ghost blinked slowly, his mind still lagging behind, struggling to process what they were saying. He could feel it now—how exhausted they all were, how shaken.

They’d been terrified.

That realisation settled deep in his chest, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say.

Before he could think of something, Price shifted slightly beneath him, exhaling sharply. “I—” He hesitated, his grip on Ghost’s back twitching before he let go entirely. His voice dropped lower. “I shouldn’t have let you—”

Ghost frowned, still groggy, but catching onto the way Price’s expression had tightened, the way he wasn’t meeting his eyes. Price reached next to him and grabbed Ghost's discarded balaclava, holding it out to Ghost.

Price rubbed a hand down his face. “Didn’t have a choice, but still. You wouldn’t have let any of us near you like that if you weren’t half-dead, and I—” His jaw tensed. “Took your mask off. You didn’t—”

Ghost sighed, cutting him off. “S’alright.”

Price’s brows pulled together.

Ghost let his eyes close for a moment, shifting slightly. He reached out and lowered his Captains hand holding the balaclava.

He was so damn tired, but he could still feel the weight of Price’s guilt, the way the man was clearly beating himself up over something that didn’t need to be a problem.

“It’s just you lot,” Ghost mumbled, voice slurred with exhaustion. His head tipped forward slightly, brushing against Price’s shoulder, and he didn’t bother correcting it this time. “Don’t mind it.”

Silence.

Soap and Gaz stared.

Price went completely still.

Again.

Ghost barely even noticed their reactions. He was too damn warm, still half-drunk on fever, and even though he should have felt mortified that he’d spent the entire night curled up against his captain, he just... didn’t care.

They were his team. His family. It’s okay.

Ghost felt a small, hoarse laugh rumble in his chest at the sheer shock radiating off of them. “What?”

Soap’s expression was priceless. “What—what do you mean, ‘what’? You just—” He gestured vaguely at the position Ghost had willingly settled back into. “You’re just—stay—”

Ghost smirked. “S’comfortable.”

Gaz covered his face with his hand. Price just let out a breathless, disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head as though this entire situation was beyond him. He dropped the balaclava by his knee, happy to indulge in watching his lieutenants face split with a tired, lazy grin.

“You’re still delirious,” Price muttered.

“Mm.” Ghost let his eyes slip closed again. “Maybe.”

Price let out a soft exhale, and then—hesitantly, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself—his hand found its way back to Ghost’s back. Not holding. Not gripping. Just there.

The tension finally eased from the room.

Soap scoffed. “Christ, alright. Guess we’re doin’ this, then.”

Gaz muttered something under his breath about "never lettin’ him live this down," but there was no real bite to it.

Ghost just huffed a quiet, amused breath, body sagging slightly as exhaustion pulled at him again.

The fever had broken. But the warmth lingered, even in the cold and damp atmosphere, that warmth lingered. And not the feverish kind of warmth. The one filled by familiar sounds and smells and camaraderie. 

Yeah, it was okay, Ghost decided. 

[yayll]

hai !! i am wondering if i can request something about foxzai w foxreader.. i dont mind any scenario i just want something about them in love hehe.. especially since they r both foxes:3

hiiiiii baby! i'm SO sorry this took quite a while, i was away for a bit on vacation and have just been trying to catch up on requests. for this specific one i didn't kno if you wanted them to be full on foxes or like fox hybrid ish so i went with the kitsune approach who can be both! i hope you like my interpretation and i'm srry if it's not proper but i had a lot of fun working on it for you and seeing these two in love hehe <3 love u

The winter can be harsh on the wild, this you already know. But the warmth that does remain doesn't come from the security in survival, It comes from knowing that if you make it through the season or should you perish during it you will always be under the watchful gaze of the one you love.

It's a brisk morning and in your snow lined fox den it's business as usual. There's no hibernation, only you and your silly little partner as you spend everyday together. He's a bit off, a bit goofy, but so are you for letting him live with you ever since that day he limped into your den! You nursed him back to health as best you could and he hasn't left you ever since, not that you'd ever want him to. Dazai's also lazy, selfish, and unintentionally hilarious during the most inappropriate times so you need to be careful when trying to understand his more 'dramatic' moments and-

Oh, yeah. food! Sooo hungry. You pad your way towards the soft spot you both share where he sleeps soundly, curled up in his kimono, his nine tails tightly wrapped around him. You think his bandages must keep him extra warm too, what a package deal. Oh how pretty he looks like that... You kneel and nudge him awake with a soft whisper.

"Hi... it's time to eat."

His pointy ears perk up and he pops one eye open as he scans you first thing.

"You brought food already? Woooowww... How gracious of you, cutie~"

You snicker quietly to yourself, and shake your head.

"No, we're going together. You need to start earning your meals."

"Pfft. I'd never make you earn your meals, you know."

You make another sound of sheer entertainment at his cute whining, and nudge him again, this time carding your fingers through his messy brown hair, and caressing those soft ears that twitch with every word you say. He could stay like this forever, he thinks. With your approval, hopefully he will.

"Is that so? I dunno... I'd say every time I head out into town to find your specialty canned crab it's quite a quest for me. Or when I trick those humans into giving me more tofu than usual for our stews I really do wonder if you ever stop to think if that's a harder than usual task for me-"

Your words are cut off by a swift and fluffy tail that clamps over your mouth. You stay quiet, a wide smile playing on your lips as you watch Dazai become animated in a second.

"...Okay, okay! Fine. I'll go... And of course, you'll do the cooking."

"I always do the cooking, Osamu."

"Yes, and thank god for that, because I love doing the eating~"

You quirk an eyebrow as you fold your arms across your chest and hum. He's so cute when he's being high maintenance. Despite you both being kitsune, he had you wondering if you were slowly becoming his human caretaker... Not that you would ever mind, that is.

"Mm, that you do..."

Dazai then stretches himself, his body becoming long as he holds the pose with his back arched, his ears flipping back as his tails fluff up, signaling he's fully awake now. He turns to you, those cunning narrowed eyes now slightly half lidded and tender. His voice is low and hoarse.

"But you know what? I also love other things..."

You tilt your head a bit as he stands to his full height, walking towards you and scanning you head to toe with that never ending gaze that oozes with affection. He knows what's going on in that little head of yours, and you almost feel bashful from the way he grants you every bit of his senses. When he reaches you, he places a hand on the top of your head inbetween your soft ears, petting you with feather light taps. He towers over you, his figure now more imposing except without the threatening aura. There could never be threat when it's just you and Dazai, because behind his goofy and easygoing exterior, there is an undying commitment to you that goes beyond life and death. And thankfully, you both will live for a long, long time despite his pesky jokes about the opposite.

He leans forward and then down enough to whisper against the shell of your ear as if he were telling you a secret.

"I love... Curry... Rice... Crab... and-"

You interrupt by looking up at him, eyes twinkling with anticipation. You weren't desperate for his tender words, for he never withheld them from you. He couldn't hide how enamored he was with you even if he tried! There was just something about hearing him say it that made you feel like it was the first time every single time. He curls one of his tails around yours, gently braiding them together as they form a furry stem, locked in place like two hands intertwined. He grins, holding your chin as you two communicate in your own little language with your eyes.

Dazai thinks about how lucky he is to be yours, through thick and thin and the coldest of winter. From the way your lashes flutter every time you blink to how your nose crinkles in the cutest ways when you laugh, he doesn't know why you entertain his mischief. Maybe he's cursed you... Maybe it's a good curse if it means you'll continue to look at him the way you aways do. Either way, you'll both see the Spring come, together.

He brings his hand down to the tip of your nose, so elegant and beautiful, and taps it while whispering.

"You. I love you. So let's go to town, yes? I'm ready to work for my meal or whatever."

You bite your lip at his call back to your previous words, trying to stop the smile from literally getting any wider as you drop the bossy act and melt for him instead. And here you thought his charm was only reserved to fool humans! You nod and when you speak, it's barely above a whisper.

"I love you too."

He leans in so close that his nose touches yours, teasing your every sense.

"I know that, cutie. Duh."

He speaks with a low purr as if stating the obvious, causing you to roll your eyes at his adorable audacity. Only Dazai could get away with this, and only you could make him feel complete this way, no matter what form he takes.

[fandoms-x-reader]

I Like You

Word Count: 888

Leviathan x Reader

You sat in a chair next to Levi as he gazed off into space. He was rambling to himself. Most of it was incoherent, but you managed to pick up on some of it. He was talking once again about being a shut-in otaku. “Who likes me? Pfft nobody,” he stated, mostly talking to himself. You let out a small sigh before replying, “Me.”

_______________

Since you got to the Devildom, you had a hard time relating to the other demon brothers. There were so many things that differed between the human world and the Devildom…it was hard to find common ground with anyone. Well, anyone but Levi. 

Levi was the only one in the Devildom who seemed to know about things in the human world. He had an expansive amount of mangas and video games from both realms. He was like a breath of fresh air. The only hint of familiarity that you had in this world. 

The only problem was - he was also the hardest to get to know. He spent most of his time in his room which made it hard for you to talk to him. And, when he did finally come out, it seemed like he wanted nothing to do with you. As if you were simply a burden that the family of brothers had been cursed with.

At first, he only talked to you so that he could use you to get Mammon to pay him back. Then, your relationship had become somewhat estranged when you beat him in a trivia battle for “The Tale of the Seven Lords”. 

Eventually, though, he warmed up to you, finding himself wanting to spend time with you. He would invite you over to his room to play games or watch animes that you hadn’t seen yet. For the first time in - he couldn’t remember how long - he was truly enjoying the company of another person. 

Your nights spent together were filled with laughter and amusement as you both provided ample knowledge of each other’s worlds. After some time, Levi found that every new game or manga that came out, he wanted to share it with you.

You had suddenly become the most important person in his life. When you weren’t with him, he missed you; and, when you were with him, he never wanted the time to end.

However, your relationship with him didn’t change what he was. He was always self-conscious around his other brothers. They seemed to have such charm and charisma. They could talk their way through any social situation. Levi wasn’t quite as lucky. 

His brothers normally teased him about the way he acted. Usually, he didn’t take it too personally. But, today they had taken it a bit too far, leaving Levi feeling hurt and left out.

He had stormed off to his room and you followed him. He normally wouldn’t let anyone follow him into his room, but he knew it was you and despite his actions saying otherwise, he wanted you there. 

He paced silently for a bit around his room as you stood there. You watched Levi nervously as he walked around his room. You wanted to help him, but you weren’t sure how to.

You sat in a chair next to Levi as he gazed off into space. He was rambling to himself. Most of it was incoherent, but you managed to pick up on some of it. He was talking once again about being a shut-in otaku. “Who likes me? Pfft nobody,” he stated, mostly talking to himself. You let out a small sigh before replying, “Me.”

You hadn’t meant for your confession to come out as suddenly as it did. But, you were tired of Levi talking bad about himself. So what if he was more quiet than the others? So what if he enjoyed nice nights in instead of partying around the Devildom. What was wrong with that?

Levi froze in his chair at your words. He didn’t say anything for a long time and you began to grow fearsome that he hadn’t heard you at all. You held your breath as you waited for him to say something - anything. 

He finally brought his eyes to you and you felt a deep blush rise to your cheeks. “W-What did you say?” he asked, looking scared. Though, you weren’t sure if he was scared because he didn’t hear what you said correctly or because he did.

You took in a deep breath before confidently stating, “I like you.”

Levi turned into a flustered mess before you, unsure how to react to your words. Should he kiss you? Would that be too forward? Should he hug you? Would you like that? Should he hold your hand? Was that too cliche?

He looked panicked to react in the proper way, so you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, not wanting to push him too far out of his boundaries. “Ah!” Levi reacted, startled by your display of affection, but adoring it nonetheless.

There was a sudden knock at the door and you figured it was one of the brothers coming to apologize to their brother. “I’ll see you later,” you told him, leaving him behind to watch you leave, completely in awe of you. If only you knew the feelings you gave him.