#thus making him look Not Right to match. grins

[verflares]

much like i think the light dragon should be a bird i think the demon dragon should be a bug. a centipede specifically

[rileyslibrary]

Ghost is shocked by your immunity to being tased.

I received an ask from an anon for this story. Unfortunately, either Tumblr ate it, or I accidentally deleted it; I can’t be sure because I trust neither of us. Gladly, I remember the gist of it. I hope that anon sees it. (Sorry, anon, and thank you for the ask.)

———————————————————————

You push open the workshop door, and notice a curated display of taser gear spread across the table for today’s training session. Ghost, your lieutenant and trainer for the day, occupies a corner, busy with extracting all sorts of stuff—taser guns, pulses, stun batons—from bags and placing them on the table. He catches the sound of your entrance and turns halfway to face you.

“You’re early,” he mutters under his breath.

“I just couldn’t wait, Lieutenant,” you reply sarcastically.

He huffs. “We’ll see about that once training’s over.”

You approach the table, and look at the equipment. You reach out and grasp a taser gun. It looks exactly like a pistol but bulkier and has yellow elements to distinguish it from firearms.

“Could you please remind me how this baby works?” you ask.

He turns his entire body towards you and contemplates your question. Although the training session is just half an hour away, and he doesn’t technically need to explain anything, you’re his weak spot. So he leaves the gear in the bag, walks towards you, and begins to give you a detailed explanation.

It almost feels like a private session, but you have ulterior motives—you’ve already been through a similar class in the past and are eager to skip this one. Despite your repeated attempts to convey this to Ghost, he remained adamant that this course would be a refresher for you and, thus, necessary.

“Once you have a clear shot, you press the trigger.” He concludes.

“Like this?” you ask, directing the taser towards your right foot and squeezing the trigger. It stings, but your previous training has taught you how to get used to the feeling and handle the pain better. Or at least make it look that way.

Your poor lieutenant stands speechless as he looks at the now-fired taser gun. He slowly looks down, where his shocked eyes trace the two wires extending from the device, connecting to your foot.

“What the fuck did you do?” he shouts, gesturing towards your leg.

“Jeez, Lt., you seem stunned,” you comment.

“Are you having a laugh, soldier?” He scolds you with as much authority as he has left from what he just experienced. He drops to the ground, working to remove the wires from your foot. He stands up, alternating his gaze between the device and your leg. Finally, he turns to you.

“How come you’re not in pain?” he asks, confused.

You shrug, unaffected, and pick up another taser from the table. “Maybe the first one was defective; let’s give this one a go,” you suggest, aiming at your other foot and firing.

“Are you out of your mind, Y/N?” he screams in a high-pitched voice and kneels again to retrieve the second taser from your foot.

“Come on, Lt., it’s not as bad as it seems!” You reassure him with a grin, seizing a third taser from the table. This time, you point it at Ghost’s leg. “Wanna see?”

He lifts his knee and gathers his arms close to his body. He looks like a pitcher, ready to throw the ball in a baseball match.

“No, no, thank you very much”, he protests.

“Sure?” You ask and aim at his other leg on the ground.

“Absolutely certain, you maniac,” he says, switching legs. “How far are you willing to go to skip this class?!”

“Not too far,” you reply with a smile, “as far as these two wires go when they get propelled from the taser gun.”

“Cut it out!”

To his relief, the rest of the team enters the room, and Ghost instantly transitions into his authoritative persona. He places both feet on the ground, protrudes his chest, and places both hands on his waist. He clears his throat.

“Take your positions, everyone,” he commands, “everyone except for you, Y/N.”

“Why am I excluded, Lieutenant?” you ask with a pout and a playful wink. “Is it because I’m unfazed?”

“Nah, soldier,” he replies and walks behind you to tidy the wires from the already-shot taser guns, “it’s because you’re a live wire—always keeping me on my toes.”

———————————————————————

[crescenthistory]

hi pookie!! it was actually my birthday a few days ago and i was wondering if maybe you could write a regulus x reader fic where it's reader's birthday? (prompt b.12) if not, that's totally fine! take ur time bub :))

~🍓

i'm usually not a birthday fic kinda gal, but i'll make an exception for you my love<33 i hope you had a super birthday the other day, sending you big bday hugs!

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, slightly suggestive (implied aftercare), kissing, toothrotting fluff, wolfstar reference, implied black family trauma (super brief)

Your chest is still slightly damp beneath Regulus' t-shirt that he gave you about twenty minutes ago, but your breath is coming at slow, regular intervals again. The dorm around you is wonderfully empty, Barty and Evan banished for the night, which they only reluctantly agreed to when you gave them a “it’s my birthday tomorrow and I want to wake up with my boyfriend” pout. It feels private, intimate, in a way you relish in.

Here, curled up against Regulus’ chest with your fingers tracing constellations between the moles on his fair skin, is the first comfort you have felt all week. The kind that sinks into the bone and warms you through winter. His sheets are warm too where they are draped across your forms, and you feel increasingly like one singular being, heartbeats synced.

His lips are tracing faint butterfly kisses across your hairline and forehead, absentmindedly, as if it’s second nature to him by now. Maybe it is.

This is all you needed.

“What are you thinking about, amour?” His breath fans across your face as he murmurs against your skin.

“You.” The word is spoken around curved lips and you feel his begin to match yours as he hums contently into your hair. “How nice this is.”

“It’s been a hectic week for you, hasn’t it?” he says, voice laced with empathy and understanding.

You just hum in response, burying your face deeper into his shoulder. You begin kissing at the skin you find there, light and soft in comparison to the passionate ones you shared earlier. It feels right to have both, like your heart is being completed.

“So good. You’re so good,” he whispers adoringly, and while you don’t know if he is referring to your handling of said week or something else, you’re fairly certain you’ll accept any and all praise slipping from his lips.

You tilt your head up to look at his eyes and find them already gazing at you. Regulus’ hand comes up to brush over the side of your face, from your temple to your cheekbone and jaw. “Yeah?” you ask through a smile. 

He breathes out something akin to a laugh and whispers back, “Yeah. The best.”

Stretching your neck only slightly, you lean up to give him a soft and delectably slow kiss, savouring the feeling of his lips between yours. He reciprocates in full, humming against you when you support some of your weight with a hand on his chest. You feel his heartbeat beneath it and burrow your fingertips deeper, as if in search of it.

“Do you have anything specific you want to do tomorrow?” Regulus muses when you separate and you begin pressing kisses along his jaw and cheek instead.

“Nothing at all. Not leaving this room.” While your heart means it, your mind is a more logical being and thus doesn’t, so your words come out with a slight laugh, a joke at how stupidly good it would have been.

“Hiding out from the world with me?” A cheeky grin before he captures your lips with his again briefly. “Sounds like the best birthday ever.”

Supporting your own weight isn’t ideal when you’re still a tad worn out, so you lay down with your head on his shoulder again and he runs his hand comfortingly up and down your arm when he feels it shaking. You keep your eyes on his though, head tilted up with a look that contains more worry than Regulus cares for.

“I still have to do quite a bit of reading for my History of Magic project,” you say in the same tone as someone would use to convey their life sentence in prison. “So I’m going to have to hole up in the library for quite a while tomorrow, birthday be damned.”

Regulus cannot fight the tsk-ing sound that escapes him as he frowns in sympathy. “I’m no expert on the perfect birthday, but I’m quite certain that’s not in the recipe.”

“I know,” you groan, burying your head into his flesh. “I know, but I have to.”

“You have to do no such thing, pretty girl.” He kisses the top of your head to coax you back out from hiding. “Don’t think about the project tomorrow, I’ll help you get back into it the day after.”

“Absolutely not,” you try, but you recognise the look in his eyes as one you are rarely able to defeat. “Reggie, baby, you have enough on my plate.”

“Yet the most important thing on it is you.” He says it almost fiercely, passionately, but when you lift a smug brow at him at his unintended double meaning, he jokingly swats at you. “Don’t sully my declaration of love, you heathen. I’m saying I’ve got you.”

You kiss him part in apology and part selfishly because his lips jutted out enticingly when he pretend pouted. “I know, and I love you for it, but you can’t help me with that big of a project baby, you just can’t.”

“There is no such rule in the boyfriend handbook,” Regulus says solemnly, as if reciting scripture. In theory, he technically is because when Regulus first opened up to Sirius about his anxiety of ruining things with you, the older boy made the ugliest homebound book titled How To Be A Good Boyfriend When Your Parents Fucked You Up Real Bad.

When Regulus questioned Sirius’ expertise on the matter, he said Remus made it based on all the missteps Sirius already had made in their relationship.

“Maybe not,” you reply. “But you forget the first rule: a girlfriend’s word is always more important than any silly rule in any stupid handbook.”

Regulus rolls you over onto your back so he can attack your neck with kisses, likely because he had no actual argument against that. “Querulous girl,” he made out between kisses but your laughter drowned him out.

When he came back up to hover his face above yours, bicep flexing beside your head as he held himself up, his hair was somehow even more messed up than before and oh so pretty. His eyes too, filled to the brim with love and humour, softening as he saw the clear flash of admiration across your own face.

“Let me spoil you,” he whispers, kissing your cheeks, your eyes, your forehead, your nose. “You deserve it, amour. You deserve everything.” 

You thought you heard a small “I don’t deserve you” muttered when he kissed your head, but you couldn’t be certain. Nonetheless you brought his face into your hands to press a resounding kiss to his lips to shut down any such stupid thoughts.

“I love you, you know.” Your smile was blinding, but Regulus looked good in the light.

“I know,” he whispers back. “I love you. And I am not letting you sit in the library on your birthday, no matter how many cute dates we’ve had there. Tomorrow is about you – nothing matters but you.”

Tears almost well in your eyes, but you blink them away. Your voice is still watery when you whisper a soft, “Okay.”

“Okay?” A grin starts to form over his previously soft smile. He gives you no time to respond before his lips sweep down to catch yours once more.

He captures your bottom lip between his two, swiping his tongue slowly across and breathing a soft sigh into your mouth as you allow him access. Leaning more of his weight on you, he continues to deepen the kiss, feeling you completely, as he has so many times before and as he will again.

You aren’t certain when it was you fell asleep, time floating around you like soap bubbles, irrelevant but beautiful in its presence nonetheless. What you do know, is that when you fall asleep it is with your body held close to his. And that when you woke up, it was to soft kisses across your face and a “happy birthday, amour” whispered in your ear.

[x0llaz]

The Perfect Pair 𖦹 ⋆° ✮

Sungchan x fem!reader

WC: 7325

enemies to lovers, Sungchan is an asshole in the beginning whoops, stucco au, angst, fluff, conflict resolution, childhood bully Sungchan

Synopsis: Sungchan and YN have hated each other's guts since they were kids. Now, in their final year of high school, things have began to boil over...

ִ ࣪𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ִ ࣪𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ִ ࣪𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

 It was a sunny day. The sky was clear, the birds were chirping through the wind. It was a perfect day for a perfect recess. YN sat on the ground, playing with a doll by herself while all the other kids played with their friends, taking turns on the swingset, going down the slides. There was a group of boys in her grade, huddled over a bit away, giggling about something. The boys soon pushed someone forward, egging him to do something. 

YN looked up as a boy with dark hair looked down at her, a grin plastered on her face. She would’ve had time to process how cute he was, if he hadn’t reached down and snatched her doll. Immediately she stood up, yelling at him to give it back. He just laughed in her face, avoiding her quick attempts to grab back her toy. 

He danced around her, teasing and taunting until she stepped closer to him and yelled in his face. In response, he pushed her back on the ground, she landed on her butt, with a little hiss from getting scraped. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes as he laughed before walking away, the lunch bell ending before she could yell for a teacher. 

She learned from her friends that his name was Sungchan, and seemed to enjoy picking on girls. They told her stories of his antics, how he got stuck eating with the teacher for a week because he pulled a girl’s hair. All her friends told her he was no good, that he was just a dumb boy. 

The worst part was, she never got her doll back. 

From that day forward, she hated sungchan. She hated his stupid face, and his stupid laugh. She hated his stupid jokes, and the way he’d pick on her. She hated the way he didn’t remember what he did, no matter how silly it was to hold a grudge. 

Yet as they grew up, they walked parallel paths. In later schools of primary school, they were in the same classes, leading into high school they took the same courses, matched in academic skill. When they saw each other in their first shared class, all the way back in third grade, it seemed like sungchan’s goal was to make things difficult for YN. Anything she could do, he could do better. 

And YN made it her goal to prove him wrong. Thus was born, the rivalry. 

Competing for better test scores, racing to have the correct answer, never missing a beat to show off how smart they were. They hardly spoke, unless to argue, and would often just shoot each other dirty looks across the room. 

Sungchan Liked ruffling YN’s feathers, always taking the chance to poke fun at her, call her a nerd, though he did similar things to her. He was the typical bully, YN thought he’d peak in high school for sure. 

To be fair, YN was never very nice to him either. If there was one thing she was good at, it was holding a grudge. Anytime she’d think of any redeeming quality for the boy, she’d always come back to that day in first grade. And with her copious vocabulary, she always knew the right words to hit him with. Though, she didn’t think Sungchan would be able to understand many of them. 

At some point, a classmate asked YN if she had a crush on sungchan, to which she almost threw up at the thought of. “Ew! Anyone but him!”  She explained her hatred for sungchan and his dreamy eyes, but only left the girl unconvinced. 

A boy who would become friends with sungchan asked him the same thing, and he just laughed at the thought. “Why would I have a crush on her, she’s annoying as shit!” He ignored how much he truly liked hearing her pretty voice argue back at him, just seeing her as a stuck up little princess. 

By their junior year, there was something new to campaign for. Something new for them to compete in, to prove how much better they were. Student council. After a year of campaigning, debating and promoting themselves, the results were announced at the Student council meeting. One of them would be The student body president. 

“Choi YN!” her name was called. 

Her eyes lit up, a smile emerging as she went to the podium. Her speech was about what you’d expect from a junior, but She hoped Sungchan would feel like the loser he was. A bit later he approached her, a lazy smirk across his lips as he talked to her.

“Congrats on the win, I'd say you had a good run against me,” He spoke condescendingly, but YN couldn’t help but relish in his defeat. 

“Oh, it wasn’t that difficult,” she smiled, trying to mask the sarcasm in her laugh. 

“You know, you should really fix your attitude if we’re going to be partners,” he pointed out. The smile faded from YN’s face.

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused. 

“Did you forget? I’m your vice president!” he said, faking his own joy.

One of them would be student body president. The runner up would be the Vice.

So much for an easy win. 

“YN, no offense, but this budget sucks,” Sungchan said, looking over her shoulder at the paper on her desk. 

“Thank you for your valued opinion, sungchan, but Mr. Lee said it was the best draft yet, so that’s what we’re sending in,” YN said, trying her best to ignore his figure hovering over her. “You know, maybe you could go do your job instead of trying to do mine,” 

“Just trying to help,” He smiled.

Sungchan always found a problem with YN. Whether it was a policy idea she came up with, or an event she came up with for fundraising, it was never good enough. YN had taken up a habit of ignoring Sungchan, confident her ideas could stand on their own. And fairly certain that Sungchan was stupid. 

But their disagreements were far too severe for two people who were supposed to be partners. Many meetings had turned into the two of them bickering back and forth, where their advisor would need to step in to make them pipe down. It was becoming unproductive for the two of them to work together, fighting more than they were working. 

It didn’t help that YN was beginning to feel the weight of all her courses piling up on her. It was that part of the year where school life balance practically didn’t exist, where most nights were spent doing homework or catching up on work. The stress of being in the top classes, and having to manage multiple jobs for her position was eating her alive. It was only a matter of time before something set her off. 

Sungchan always had exquisite timing. 

“You know, YN, maybe if you weren’t so behind on your assignments, you wouldn’t be so stressed,” Sungchan’s voice mocked her from across her desk. “I don’t think it’s a very good look if our president is always behind on what she needs to do. Stress isn’t good for the job.”

Something inside her snapped. All the anger she struggled to keep at bay was boiling up all over again. 

“Can you just shut the fuck up?” She snapped her head up at him, face turning red. “Like genuinely, let me do what I need to do, and leave me alone!”

“YN!” their advisor shouted from across the room. “That talk isn’t tolerated, apologize!”

“No! He’s done nothing but insult me and my work. Why should I apologize to him?” YN defended herself, Sungchan scoffing. 

“Because you two are a team. You can’t work well together if-”

“I can’t work well if he’s always breathing down my back insulting me!” 

“I was giving you advice, YN, learn the difference,” Sungchan laughed as he spoke, making YN’s anger rise more. 

“I told you to shut up!” YN shouted at him, her anger burning in her throat. 

“No! Both of you, out, now. Come back when you’ve figured out your problems.” Mr. Lee told them. 

YN groaned, stomping out of the room, as sungchan followed behind her lazily. They stood in an empty hallway, sungchan looked around the hall, seeming bored, as YN stared a hole in the ground. Neither one of them wanted to break the silence, neither wanted to acknowledge their part in their stupid rivalry. But YN had one burning question on her mind. 

“Why did you do it?” She asked, her voice quiet, not looking up at him. 

“Do what?” Sungchan scoffed, leaning against the wall. His arms folded across his chest as he looked down at her. 

“First Grade,” She spoke up a little. “It was recess, you stole my doll,” 

“Oh my god,” Sungchan audibly laughed, a wide grin of disbelief across his stupid face. “Is that why you’re such a bitch? You’re mad about a stupid toy?”

“No, I'm mad because you’ve treated me like shit ever since then. And I want to know why. What did I ever do to you to make you hate me? You took my doll, and then you never stopped hating me. You never stopped being a dick.” YN looked up at him finally. She still looked upset, but there was something Sungchan couldn’t decipher in her gaze. He hated it. 

He pushed off the wall, stepping closer towards her, causing her to take a step back. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a bit… insane?” he asked, leaning down to her eye level. “Honestly, has anyone?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a dickhead? Do you get off on being an asshole, or are you really just that stupid?” YN asked him, trying to fight back. 

“Ever since we were little, you were such a prick. You were such a prissy princess, and you still are now. You know why I don’t like you? Because you think you’re better than everyone, and someone needs to bring you off your high horse,” Sungchan had a condescending grin on his face. 

“No, I don’t,” YN mumbled, stumbling backwards. The words hit her harder than she would’ve expected.

“Bullshit,” Sungchan smiled, cornering her against a locker, his hand resting near her head. “You think you’re so special, that you’re the smartest girl in the world, but you’re not,”

“Sungchan, stop,” Her voice broke, though she tried to keep herself steady, trying to blink back the tears that welled in her eyes.

“Aw, you gonna cry?” He asked. “You know what I think? I think you’re pathetic. I think you’re a pathetic girl who’s never had a reality check. I think you’re pathetic for holding a grudge because I stole your toy. Boo Hoo. Welcome to the real world, there’s more than just your stupid dolls.” 

YN shoved at his chest, trying to push him away from her, but he stood firm. She fought back the tears that threatened to fall. 

“You know, YN, you really never changed,” He laughed. “You’re still the crybaby brat you were back when we were kids. Just a pathetic. useless. crybaby,” 

There was silence between the two of them. The sound that broke it was a painful sounding sob from YN, as she covered her mouth, tears racing down her cheeks as she began gasping for air. Sungchan took a step back as She slid down the locker and to the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs as if she was trying to protect herself. 

Sungchan was in shock. He’d never seen YN in such a position. He’d never seen her beyond the perfect image she always wore. The only time He saw her truly cry was when they were little. But this? Seeing her curled in on herself, sobbing into her legs, it made him rethink his actions. He thought she was immune to his words, that she’d spit something back that was just as mean, but here she was, broken down, sobs escaping her as her breathing picked up quickly. 

He knelt down a bit, feeling remorse build up in his chest, reaching a hand to her shoulder. “YN?” his voice was soft, a drastic shift from his venomous voice. When he touched her, she smacked him away. She smacked his hand away from her shoulder, looking up at him with hatred in her eyes.

“Fuck you!” she yelled at him as she stood up, fleeing before he could process.  

She ran to their homeroom, shoving her things into her bag as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She threw her bag over her shoulders, rushing out of the room as Mr. Lee questioned her. She didn’t respond, just storming away before anything worse could happen. Sungchan was still in the hallway, and when he saw her, he quickly approached, following behind her, calling her name. She heard him, but didn’t listen. 

When she got to the front doors, she saw it was storming outside. She heard as Sungchan called after her, telling her not to walk home, that the rain was too heavy, offering to drive her, but She ignored him. She didn’t care about the Rain, she just wanted to get away from him.

YN was gone for the rest of the week, supposedly having caught the flu. Sunfchan knew better. He knew it was likely because he went too far, that what he said was unforgivable. It made him feel even worse. 

He tried emailing her, texting her for the first time ever just trying to apologize for what he said, but she never responded. He didn’t really expect her to, he knew he was wrong. When he told his friends what happened, they all told him the same thing. 

“Chan, you’re a dick,”

He knew they were right, that he in fact was a dick. 

When she came back the next week, Sungchan made it his mission to talk to her. To get her to talk to him. When he saw her in homeroom, he approached her with a small smile, ready to genuinely apologize for what he said. But when she ignored him, looking up only to roll her eyes, he frowned. 

He assumed she was just playing hard-ball. That she’d eventually talk if he tried hard enough. 

In all their meetings, he’d try to be extra nice, complimenting her or bringing her coffee, but she always ignored him, a straight face plastered onto her like a mask. After a week of trying with no results, sungchan wanted to punch a wall. 

“I give up,” He said to his friends at lunch. “What can I do if she doesn’t even listen to me? She won’t even hear me out! What am I supposed to do to fix it if she won’t let me!”

“You’re really dumb, you know,” Shotaro laughed at the younger boy. 

“What?” sungchan furrowed his brows. 

“You think that she owes you forgiveness after what you did?” He asks. 

“No, but-”

“Then stop expecting it. Honestly, I don't blame her for ignoring you. You’ve been a bitch to her since you were in elementary school,” Shotaro sighed. “You’re not going to get anywhere like this. If you want things to be better, then you gotta stop being a dick. You can’t apologize and then go back to chastising her for stupid shit.”

Sungchan looked down. “I know,”

“Then stop being a dick!” eunseok said from across the table. 

“Well she’s just a bitch!” Sungchan tried to shift the blame. 

“No, she’s really not. She’s a bitch to you because you’ve never been nice to her. She’s actually a really sweet girl,” Eunseok defended her. 

“How would you know?”

“She’s in my math class. She helps me with like… everything,” Eunseok shrugged. 

“Why is this the first I'm hearing of that?” sungchan asked. 

“Because you’d make such a fuss about how bitchy she was and how much you hated her.” the older boy shrugged. “And if you took a moment to stop being such an asshole, you’d see she was way nicer than you thought. And you’d also find out there was more to her than just being a spoiled nerd, or whatever you call her,” 

When he went to the library that day, he heard something. While he was reading his assigned reading book, he heard a soft, muffled sound. He heard someone gasping a bit, little sniffles. He realized he heard someone crying. 

As he walked slowly toward the sound, he stepped on a creaky part of the floor, and suddenly the sound stopped. He approached the book shelf, trying to see who was on the other side, when he was met with a pair of eyes doing the same, now eye to eye with the other person. He quickly realized it was YN, and a moment later she was running out with her books in her arms. 

Another week went by, YN ignored and avoided sungchan like the plague. Sungchan felt hopeless in his attempts to talk to her. He missed when she’d bicker with him, even when she’d insult him or scold him. He wanted anything but silence. 

When he went to the library that Thursday, it was a little late. He had finished up his duties, and looked around for YN to try and talk again, but couldn’t find her. As he looked for a spot in the library, his music playing in his ears a little too loudly, he soon realized why he couldn’t find her. Because there she was, cheek resting against an open book, papers spread out on her table, hair sprawled across her forehead, sleeping peacefully in the quiet of the library. 

Sungchan couldn’t help but smile, looking at her so peacefully sleeping. He checked the time, and figured she would probably need to leave soon. He picked up her papers and slid them into her folder, and picked up the piles of books she stacked around her, and gently took the last one out from under her. He was lucky she was a heavy sleeper, or he’d probably get slapped. When everything was put away neatly, he turned back to her. 

He crouched down, looking at her sleep peacefully. He brushed some hair away from her forehead, smiling to himself at how cute she looked. 

How what she looked?

He shook himself out of his thoughts, and brought his hand to her shoulder, shaking her lightly. She didn;t budge, turning to rest her forehead on her arms, and he shook her again. And then again. When she woke up she sat up quickly, not processing her surroundings, or that sungchan was right next to her. 

When she looked at him, her eyes widened, looking around at the now clean table. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” She whispered to herself as Tears welled in her eyes, bringing her hands to her eyes. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sungchan whispered, his hand resting on her shoulder as she cried. “You’re okay, just breathe,” he told her and she shoved his hand away. Deserved. “What’s wrong?”

YN looked at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “The fuck do you mean what’s wrong? I fell asleep and lost most of my work time, and now you’re here to rub it in!” 

“No, i’m not,” sungchan shook his head. “I’m just here to wake you up,” he shrugged. 

YN rolled her eyes and rested her forehead in her arms, facing down at the table. How could she have been so stupid? Letting herself fall asleep? And now Sungchan was here, the library, the place she went to avoid him. She sighed deeply, sniffling a bit, embarrassed by her tears, when she heard sungchan speak. 

“I’ll drive you home,” He told her quietly. 

“What?” 

“It’s late, soon it’ll be dark, and you have a lot to carry. So i can give you a ride,” he shrugged, hoping she wouldn’t reject the offer. 

“Why would I want a ride home from you?” she asked, looking up from the table, a frown etched onto her face. 

“Just an offer,” Sungchan sighed, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Take it or leave it,” 

YN had a choice. She could make a statement, stand up for herself and not give into sungchan’s offer. It’s what she should do. She didn’t want to spend anymore time with him after what he said to her. 

But YN was tired. And her bag was heavy. And she heard sungchan drove a pretty nice car. Maybe she could tell him off while they were in there. She knew he would be too guilty to defend himself. 

“Fine,” she said begrudgingly. 

“Good,” he smiled lightly, bending down and picking up her bag, carrying it like it was nothing. 

“What are you doing?” YN asked, trying to snatch her bag back. 

“Carrying your bag, let’s go,” he started walking away before she could protest. She ended up trailing behind him with a frown, arms folded across her chest. 

When they got tp his car, sungchan put her bag in the backseat while she got in the front. He got in after her and started the car without a word. He handed her his phone so she could type in her address, and pick the music. They got on the road, neither of them wanting to talk. 

He glanced at her from time to time. She rested her head against the window, watching the road pass by as the day faded into night. He noticed the tired look in her eyes that he realized had been there for a few weeks now, but never had stood out to him. He noticed how her lips stayed in a little pout, wondering what was going through her mind as she looked out into the darkening road. 

And then he spoke. 

“I’m really sorry,” She turned at the words. “For everything,” She didn’t speak. “You didn’t deserve how I treated you, ever. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m so sorry.” Sungchan let out a sigh. “It’s been eating me up, i needed to say it to your face,” 

She looked down at her lap, picking at the skin on her fingers. “So why’d you do it?” 

“What part?” sungchan asked, a bit of humor in his voice. 

“All of it,” no humor in hers. Not the time for lightheartedness.

“I wish I knew, I was just acting on my impulse. WHen you asked me about why I did what I did in first grade, I didn’t know what to say, I just got angry. I didn’t think about all the times I was the one to start things with you, or pick on you, I only thought about that one thing. I just got mad, even though I didn’t have the right to be mad. You had all the right to ask, I reacted badly.” he tried piecing together his thoughts. “And I didn’t realize how badly, what I did, hurt you,” 

“You didn’t realize? Sungchan you made me miserable,” YN scoffed. 

“I know that now, and I’m sorry. I never knew how to fix things with you, I never was able to swallow my pride and admit I was wrong for how I treated you.” he apologized once more, knowing he could never undo all the hurt he had done to her. 

“Are you forgetting everything you said to me? You can’t just unsay all that to me. You can’t say you regret it so much and expect to move on,” 

“I know,” Sungchan nodded. “What I will say is that I never should have said those things to you. No matter how angry I was, you didn’t deserve that. I was disrespectful, and I crossed a line by saying that to you. And I don’t expect you to just move on, I don’t deserve that at all,” his voice felt genuine. 

“Then why are you driving me home right now?” she asked, still frowning. 

“Because I want you to get home safe, and I want to be better. I don’t want you to hate me, but I know that’s your own choice. I just want you to know that I’ll try,” Sungchan pulled up to her house, parking on the street. 

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes as she opened the car door. Sungchan got out to grab her bag from the backseat, crossing around the car. 

“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,” he handed her the bag. 

“Let’s talk next week,” she mumbled. 

“What?” Sungchan furrowed his brow. 

“When I'm not so sleep deprived, when I have time to process, let’s talk about us going forward. Don’t bother me until then,” she told him before walking up to her house, not giving him time to respond. 

“Yes ma’am,” Sungchan muttered to himself, watching her get inside before he drove himself home.

Sungchan was nervous. He sat in the agreed upon cafe, waiting for YN to get there like he was waiting on a date. But he was never nervous for dates, Usually because dates actually liked him. But YN didn’t like him, and this certainly wasn’t a date. 

Thankfully, YN had seemed to be doing better that week. When she walked through the doors to the cafe, sungchan couldn’t help but think about how pretty she was, though at the moment he should be more concerned with whether or not she was going to murder him. She sat down in front of him, he had already ordered her drink. He was about to greet her when she spoke. 

“Against my better judgment, i’ve decided to forgive you,” YN told him. 

“Really?” that was not the statement he expected. “So, you’re not going to kill me?”

“I have some measures,” sungchan straightened up, ready to listen. “Going forward, we aren’t going to hate each others guts. Let’s just move on, no more childish insults, no more fights over nothing. From now on, we get along.”

“Alright,” sungchan nods. 

“And you have to actually tell me why you took my doll, why you did any of it,” YN adds. “I need closure,” 

Sungchan nodded. “I had some really bad friends, which sounds kind of stupid, but they kept telling me that if I did what they did, I would be cool. They were older than me, so I thought they were right. So I spent my first grade year picking on kids like a loser, trying to be cool. They told me to go take your doll, so I did. I thought I’d be the coolest boy in the first grade, but I just felt bad. They told me to keep picking on you and I did, i made the decision to keep going, to keep being a little shit until I realized there was more to life than picking on girls. By the time I realized it, it was too late.” he told her. “And i’m not trying to say I was blameless, I still continued longer than I should have, i’m just trying to give you an explanation,” 

“So you’ve always been kinda dumb?” She asked. 

“Basically,” sungchan laughed a little, and saw her smile a little bit. “We should study together,” 

“Why?” She asked, skeptical of his suggestion. 

“Well, we’re supposed to be partners. So we should start learning to work together,” he shrugged, a little less confident than when he initially asked. “Just an idea, you don’t have to agree,”

“Are you good at Calc?” YN asked. 

“Uh, yeah, i’m good at it,” Sungchan looked a little confused. 

“Well, i’m good at History,” she told him. “So we can help each other out,” 

Sungchan smiled. “Cool,” he nodded a little. “I can give you rides, if you need them,”

“Okay,” YN agreed. “Oh and you have to get me coffees before our meetings,” 

“Deal,” sungchan smiled. “So, you really don’t hate me?”

“I’m in the process of not hating you,” YN corrected him. “We have a little ways to go,” 

Surprisingly, it was easy to not hate sungchan. It seemed like he was making an effort to be a nice person, which YN appreciated. He always showed up to their student council meetings five minutes early with her coffee in hand. He stopped chastising her for her work, and she stopped calling him an idiot. Mr. Lee was surprised, but pleased to see the progress the two had made. 

Their study time was productive, spending time going through each subject with one another to make sure they both had a good idea of what they were learning. It was a lot more helpful than she expected. 

While the car rides were mostly quiet for a week or two, with only a little small talk filling the air, the two of them began talking to one another more. They’d rant about teachers, or classmates who got on their nerves, or talk about the show that they coincidentally both liked. Who would have thought that the two people who were already somewhat similar would have so much in common between each other. 

YN found herself enjoying her time with Sungchan. If you had told her that a month ago, she would’ve called you stupid. 

And Sungchan couldn’t deny that he thought YN was great. He struggled to hide his smile when he was around her. He couldn’t contain his thoughts of how cute she was, or how much he liked her laugh. 

When he asked her to hang out, outside of stucco meetings, or study sessions, or their drives back to YN’s house, it seemed normal, that this was a progression of their friendship. When she accepted, Sungchan felt his stomach churn with excitement, joy that he could spend more time with her. 

The first time, they just went to Sungchan’s house and watched a show on his couch, sharing a bag of popcorn and a bag of candy that was too big for one person. They spent most of the time talking, half of their attention on the show, half of it on each other. By midnight, they had ordered takeout and shared their food, switched spots on the couch, and YN accidentally kicked Sungchan in the jaw.

When people Noticed how much Sungchan and YN started hanging out, they thought it was some sort of joke. Almost everyone knew they hated each others guts, and now, here they were, walking down the halls together? And sungchan was carrying her backpack???? The hell happened?

When she walked through the halls, Sungchan was right behind her. There were times his arm would be slung around her shoulder, or she’d punch him in the arm. He’d ruffle her hair, she’d shove him lightly. Either this was a new form of torturing each other, or they actually got along. 

Their partnership as student leaders was strengthened by their newfound closeness, and through their growth they never lost the bickering. But instead of insulting each other’s character, they now just poked fun, made light hearted jokes. And they always seemed to enjoy it. 

It was weird. 

It was also obvious that Sungchan had a crush.

All his friends could tell by the way he brought her up so much. When she’d approach them, Sungchan’s demeanor would change, a big smile on his face that would linger as she walked away. He wasn’t very slick. Comments that flew over YN’s head that were too flirty for someone you just had platonic feelings for, lingering gazes on her, compliments galore, it was a miracle YN didn’t figure it out. 

He remembered what made her laugh, so he’d try to come up with jokes that she’d like because he loved hearing her laugh, watching her cover her grin and try to compose herself. He took note of her favorite snacks, and her usual coffee orders, not needing to ask after getting them for her so many times. He memorized the details of her face, the way her eyes sparkled when she wore certain makeup, how the apples of her cheeks got so big when she smiled, the way her lashed fanned over her cheeks, how she’d scrunch her nose a bit when she was thinking. He knew it all. He liked it all. 

He liked her. 

And damn, did he know it. He thought about her a lot, trying to come up with what would be their “perfect date”. He tried being obvious, but it was very difficult because somehow, this prodigy couldn’t tell when he was flirting with her. He texted her all the time, staying up late to have stupid conversations with her, wishing she was right there next to him and he could scoop her into his arms and talk to her in person. 

Now they sat in sungchan room, laying on his bed watching TikToks and eating ramen. Very romantic. YN sat up on the bed, stretching her back a little as sungchan just watched her. He looked up at her like she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. 

“Is this weird?” She asked. 

“Is what weird?” Sungchan sat up. 

“Us, hanging out, being normal and not hating each others guts?” She smiled, looking over at him as he smiled back at her. 

“Nah, I think it’s pretty cool,” he tells her. She didn’t notice the way his eyes trailed along her body before landing back on her lips.

“Okay, ‘cause sometimes I just randomly get the feeling that this is like… too out of character for us and we just-“

He pressed his lips against hers. 

She froze for a moment before sighing a bit and leaning in, feeling his hand rest on her waist, his other coming up to brush back her hair. Her hand pressed against his chest, grabbing at his shirt as she shifted slightly towards him. 

She was kissing him. 

He kissed her. 

Hello?

She pulled away with a gasp, eyes wide at what just happened. Sungchan looked apologetic, pushing his hair back. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ he started, catching his breath. 

“No, no, it's… it’s okay, don't worry,” she told him, but was standing up from where she sat on his bed. “I uh, I need to go home,”

Sungchan didn’t say anything to her as she walked out. 

Sungchan kissed her. How many other girls had he kissed? What did that kiss mean? Why did he kiss her? Why was he such a good kisser? Why did she enjoy kissing him so much? Did she like sungchan? Did-

Channie: hey I wanna say I’m sorry again

Channie: I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable

YN: it’s ok dw

YN: I just need to think

And think she did. She barely got a wink of sleep that night, all that was in her mind was a replay of their kiss. Thinking about kissing him made her think more. She thought about if she liked him, or if she was just flustered. And then she thought about him, how close the two of them had gotten over the past weeks. She realized she noticed things about sungchan that she would’ve scoffed at before.

The next day at school was awkward, neither wanting to bring up the night before. They attended their classes like normal, but the chatter and playfulness between them was gone, both too scared to initiate anything. The student council meeting after was awkward, everyone in the room could tell, but they remained quiet. Sungchan still drove her home, what kind of guy would he be to let her go alone? But their drive was almost silent, the music only made the air more tense, as if they were both trying to drown out their own thoughts. 

It remained like that for a week. 

YN would sometimes catch sungchan staring over at her like he wanted to talk. When she’d lock eyes with him, he’d sit up taller and then turn his attention away from her. 

At night, the two wouldn’t text as much, sungchan’s goodnight texts stopped as YN had stopped responding to a lot of his texts. How was she supposed to continue as normal? How was she supposed to pretend that everything was the same? How was she supposed to pretend she didn’t like him?

Through their weeks together, YN always felt a little something in her chest. She thought it was just joy that finally the two could put the past behind them. But in her week (that now bled into the second week) of rethinking their last close interaction, she realized that it was a little more than just joy. She realized how much she liked being around sungchan, how she liked when his arm was wrapped around her, and she liked staying up late at night just to talk to him more. 

She especially liked kissing him.

Oh she was so screwed. 

The next student council meeting was about two weeks from when he kissed her. So two weeks of being extremely awkward around each other. By now, the tension was palpable, and Mr. Lee was getting nervous. 

“Are you two fighting again?” he asked as YN and sungchan sat an awkward distance apart, still next to each other. They both looked up, looked at each other and shook their heads. 

“No,” they both said at the same time. 

“Well you two aren’t as chatty as you were before. Don’t get me wrong, i like the quiet, but i’d prefer if you wouldn’t go back to trying to kill each other,” he told them. 

“Don’t worry, mr. lee, we’re just hard at work,” Sungchan told him with a reassuring smile. “Nothing’s wrong,” Lie. 

When mr. Lee walked away, he looked at YN. 

“We should probably talk,” He told her with an awkward smile. “You know,” 

YN sighed. “Not right now, okay,” 

“Okay… when?” he asked, wanting the tension gone from their relationship. 

“I don’t know, right now just isn’t the time to talk,” She told him, the cold tone Sungchan knew so well creeping back into her voice. 

“YN, it’s been two weeks, we have to talk about it if-”

“Sungchan, drop it!” she dropped her pencil, looking over at him with a look he knew all too well. Sungchan didn’t say anything before getting up, telling Mr. Lee he was going to the restroom. 

YN sighed, regretting snapping at Sungchan. The thought of talking about what happened scared her, she was afraid they wouldn’t be the same if they acknowledged the elephant in the room. But she knew she had to talk about it. She knew Sungchan deserved to have a talk about what happened. 

When he came back, YN looked up at him hopefully, hoping he’d take his seat next to her and they could resume, but he picked up his things and moved to his desk. YN frowned, going back to doing her work, looking up occasionally to watch what he was doing.

She got up from her spot and walked over to his desk to apologize. She leaned against the table and tapped his shoulder, giving him an apologetic smile. Sungchan didn’t return it, YN couldn’t read what he was thinking.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you-” she started but got cut off. 

“Let’s talk later,” he told her, his voice even as he spoke. 

YN frowned, but nodded as she turned away. It was what she deserved, she was the one to shut him out first, she shouldn’t be surprised he did the same. But it still hurt. She realized how Sungchan must have felt when she shut him down. 

The rest of the meeting passed with awkward silences and reminders of important dates that were coming up. YN could barely focus, but Sungchan seemed to be doing just fine. He seemed to work harder when he was a little frustrated. But at the end of their session he lingered behind, waiting for her to pack up. 

She approached him with a little smile, which he reciprocated before looking to the ground, and starting to walk towards the door. Once in the hallway, YN decided to speak. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she said, looking up at him. She watched as he turned to look at her, his face softening to a soft smile.  

“It’s okay,” he assured, looking down at her. 

The awkward silence turned comfortable, and the distance between the two seemed smaller. The elephant in the room was very much present, but at least they weren’t upset with each other. They walked to Sungchan’s car quietly, the drive to YN’s house was nearly silent if not for the occasional small talk sungchan would interject, trying to ease the tension. 

He pulled up to her driveway, looking over at her with a small smile. “Have a good night, YN,” he told her. 

YN smiled, pulling her bag into her lap, about to open the door when she hesitated. Something rushed her system, and she asked, “do you want to come inside for a bit?” 

Sungchan paused for a moment, considering her offer before nodding stiffly. He parked his car and got out, leaving his bags in his car. YN smiled and got out, waiting for him to cross around before leading him inside. “My parents are out of town for a couple nights, so we should be fine,” She didn’t want her parents there to question her motives for bringing a boy into the house. 

Sungchan nodded, and she opened the door for him. Her house was neat, everything in place, nice and neat. He looked around and saw all the achievements of the household, her father was a successful lawyer, and her mother a proud business woman. In the shadow, YN was their perfect little student. Sungchan began to understand why she was so serious about their rivalry. 

He absentmindedly followed her to her room, looking around the house like it was a museum. He’d never seen a cleaner house, even with his neat-freak mother. 

“We should talk,” YN’s voice broke him from his daze. She motioned her arms for sungchan to make himself comfortable. He took a spot on the foot of her bed, glancing around a bit before landing his eyes on her. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, feeling his nerves build up. 

Was she going to reject him? Tell him he misread their relationship? Call him ugly? No one could ever call him ugly… right?

“I’ve been thinking a lot about… a few weeks ago, when we-” she made random gestures that in no way implied kissing. 

“Kissed?”

“Yeah, that,” she sighed, an awkward laugh following. “Listen, I don't know what it meant to you, but I'm gonna be honest… I really liked it, and I really like you, and i don’t know how you feel, so if we’re not on the same page-”

Sungchan got to his feet the moment she said she liked him, and cut her off by kissing her once more, relief flooding his system, smiling when he felt her wrap her arm around his neck. His hand held her cheek lightly as they kissed, breaking away, smiling brightly. 

“So you-” YN started, gasping lightly, trying to catch her breath. 

“Yes, you idiot,” Sungchan grinned, brushing his thumb against her cheek. “And you call me dumb, i’ve been flirting with you for weeks!”

YN just smiled, bringing him back in for another kiss. 

Around school, most people had heard about YN and sungchan, most were in disbelief, some could see it coming from a mile away. Mr. Lee grew annoyed with their newfound affection, because now instead of constant bickering, he had to listen to sungchan constantly calling YN pretty, or flirting with her. 

But the bickering never stopped. If there was anything about them, they always found something to argue about. The two of them always had something to fight over, always in a friendly competition. 

This time, they just didn’t hate each other. 

taglist: @oftenjisung , @vhuteryh , @skzhoe4life , @cheederzchez

[oneawkwardwriter]

So High School

pairing: James Potter x fem!reader warnings/tags: none except some teeth rotting fluff, possibly inaccurate Quidditch team (I didn't know everyone's positions), allusions to suggestive content?, no use of Y/n summary: just James being an absolutely amazing boyfriend totally not self-insert what- a/n: and thus begins the saga of me taking Taylor Swift songs and turning them into stories about fictional characters. Don't even act like you're surprised, you shouldn't be by now <3 Also, I've been wanting to write for James but couldn't get it right, so a little thank you to Miss Taylor for making this possible wc: 0.8k

"And another goal made by Gryffindor chaser James Potter!" Remus shouts into the microphone while he reacts to the latest Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. "That is three in a row for Gryffindor. Sorry, Ravenclaw, it seems like you'll have no chance of winning today, better forfeit already-"

He is cut off by Professor McGonagall taking the mic out of his hands, "Don't get forget to stay objective, Mr. Lupin," She says, just loud enough for the microphone to pick it up, but the crowd is too busy cheering to hear it.

James does a victory lap on his broom, flying close to the crowd. When he comes close to your section, he sends a quick wink in your direction. You lightly chuckle and roll your eyes when a couple of first years nearly faint from being so close to their unrequited hallway crush.

Not that you can entirely blame them, seeing as you yourself still can't shake the giddy feeling of butterflies whenever James wraps his arms around you. Sure, you'd been dating for about half a year, but somehow he still managed to make your heart skip a beat.

Not long after, the match is over when Marlene manages to catch the Snitch. Louds cheers erupt once more from the spectators on the stands, and soon enough, they're running onto the field to greet the victors.

You're pulled along in the flood of people, practically carried towards the field until the crowd parts for the Gryffindor team. You smile as you lock eyes with James, who practically storms right at you before trapping you in a bear hug, slightly lifting you off the crowd.

"That was amazing!" You say as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. "You did so great out there."

"Only because my lucky charm was in the stands," James replies, burying his face in your neck as he grins, "Couldn't have done it without you cheering me on." You chuckle, knowing arguing against him would be pointless even though you know he's a great player whether you're there or not.

The celebrations continued in the Gryffindor common room, the firewhiskey flowing while people cheered, laughed and talked to each other. Throughout the entire night, James held you practically glued to his hip: always an arm around your shoulders or waist, kissing the top of your head or your cheek.

"-And then Mary fired that Bludger at the Ravenclaw Seeker, and I ducked down for the Quaffle, and then-" James rants about the game, completely caught up in his story.

"Remember to breathe, James. We don't need you passing out," Remus says, making everyone laugh and James shake his head.

"Oh please, as if I could breathe when this one here takes my breath away the entire time," James quips, "Not that I mind, though. I'd gladly pass out if it meant you sitting next to me in the hospital wing."

"James!" You exclaim.

"What? It's true," He responds shamelessly as he shrugs, making the others shake their heads and chuckle.

As if you weren't already glued to his side, James pulls you even closer to him, making you laugh when his breath tickles the nape of your neck.

"Oh come on, can you two act even more like high school sweethearts? We're getting cavities from looking at you " Sirius groans, to which you only raise an eyebrow and reply with, "That's rich coming from the guy who had his tongue down his boyfriend's throat less than a minute ago."

"I don't see the relevance of you pointing that out, but alright," Sirius replies with mock-ignorance as he sits close to Remus, who nuzzles his face in Sirius's nape and softly smiles.

As the night progressed, the firewhiskey started to take over your systems, making you a bit more bold and unfiltered.

"You know, sometimes I still don't understand how we got together," You say, slightly slurring your words as you look at James.

"Oh god, here we go again," Sirius sighed, turning to Remus, "James is going to confess his undying love for her again."

"Hey, I can't help it that this perfect angel walked into my life, you have Remus to blame for that," James shrugged as he kisses your cheek for the millionth time that night.

You and Remus had been friends ever since first year, finding companionship in your shared love for literature and classic history. James swears he fell for you when you were rambling about the works of some ancient philosopher, claiming that you could light up an entire city with the energy you put into it.

"Well, I don't know about perfect angel, but thank you anyway," You say, resting your head on James's shoulder as you whisper in his ear. "I love you, James."

"I love you too, love."

© This work belongs to @oneawkwardwriter, please do not copy this work to any other site or claim it as your own. Reblogs are allowed and appreciated!

Taglist: @unofficialxmarvelfreak

(to join the taglist, simply leave a comment or message me!)

[glassica]

Outsiders

Notes: M!yan transmigrator x Gn!reader reincarnator, isekai, jealousy, mentions of violence

Continued from Second Male Lead, with a different yan.

"Looks like someone got rejected huh?", your best friend tucked head to the side, eyes full of mischief, didn't bother pretending to sympathize with your loss for a bit. This was why you dreaded seeing him so much. You knew well he would just make fun of your miserable love life.

"Shut up! He didn't. I just realize that I'm no match to the heroine!", you groaned, shooting an icy glare at your friend, "Honestly how am I supposed to compete with the universe's favorite?! I know she's the main character but still... isn't it too unfair for us extras?"

"Unfair only for you, I actually have a blast there. Crazy how relaxing life is when you not aiming too out of league.”

He laughed and teased you senselessly, but inside the man was breathing sighs of relief. You didn't want to know what would he do to the second male lead had you two become a couple. Nothing much, just some little stabs on the chest and limbs ripping apart maybe...

At first he was so scared seeing himself transported to this world. He knew about the isekai stuff, but applying those knowledge to reality was a different story. He had no clue about the worldbuilding nor the plot, thus struggled desperately to blended in high society. Besides, he couldn't tell anyone about him belonging to different world, he would be called crazy and outcasted from all circles.

So it was a miracle that he met you, another soul stuck in same situation. Because you had read the series and been living there since birth, you were able to provide him with necessary information about the novel. Through you, he learned about the Kingdom, the protagonists, the future events, etc. in addition to all the etiquette and secrets of nobility. At one point, you confessed to him about the second male lead, the love of your (now and previous) life.

Who you pined after was none of his business, yet the man found himself growing unbearably irritated the more he heard about that name. Your best friend always bore a bitter grin on his face whenever you gushed about your crush, sometimes he sneaked in snide remarks, suggesting the second lead was probably just a mediocre guy. “If he was really charming like you made him out to be,” your friend argued, “he should’ve been the hero instead of getting shoved outside midway to be honest.” You huffed, who he thought he is to downplay the man of your dream like that? And why did your friend like belittling your feelings so much?

No. He didn’t look down on you at all, he just hated the fact that you were paying attention anyone but not him. He couldn’t accept the sight of you longing for another man when he was right there. The one who was aware of your deepest secret, the one who witnessed all your goodness and uglies, the one who could share your struggles of adapting to new world. He knew you the best, obviously he was the right choice for you.

And perhaps the man should admit deep down, he was also terrified of the future without you. You had come and guided him through the puzzling maze of noble life, be there for him when he was on verge of giving up everything. He had been acquainted with your lovely presence, no way he would let anyone steal it away from him. Little dirt on hands wasn’t a bad price to pay if that means you would be chained forever to him.

You might be a worthless extra in their story, but always the main character in his story.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

No Nut November

A/n: Did anyone ask for this? No, will I still rewrite this because I didn't like this the first time and came up with what I think is a better trope? Yes. I only meant to make Guns N' Roses and I panicked when people asked for Metallica but I don't want to come out bad so I hope people like this version better than the first :'3

Link to the original

Kirk Lars James Cliff

Metallica was making a new album but they'd barely worked on it at all and it was getting closer and closer to the date they'd set for it to come out, normally they'd just push it back but they'd already done that twice.

Their manager decided to stick them in a house together, thinking if they didn't have a moment apart they'd actually get work done.

You were their managers daughter and were definitely a fan, when you heard he would be moving in with them you had to come up with an excuse to move with him, you knew he couldn't say no to you with a good enough reason.

You were going to University and you said since it was almost summer break you wanted to visit him so you'd be coming down once school was out.

He hesitated, not wanting your summer to be spent in such an environment, but eventually let you because he'd found a place where you could have your own room. He wanted to let you have your privacy.

You couldn't be more thrilled.

And so, you packed up your clothes and some other essentials, said goodbye to your roommates, you had a flat off campus, and made a quick road trip down to L.A. where your dad was staying with the one and only Metallica.

Your dad welcomed you with open arms and gave you a tour of the house, showing you to your room so you could drop your bags before he introduced you to the guys.

They were all sitting in the living room in the back of the house, there was a wall of windows with a matching glass door leading out to the backyard, a beautiful green lawn with an underground pool all of it fenced in and overlooking a cliff. It was gorgeous but you were more focused on the four men all ogling you as you came down the stairs with their manager.

"I thought you said you were bringing your daughter?" The short one asked, you of course knew him as Lars Ulrich, the drummer.

You dad nodded. "Yeah, this is my daughter, Y/n." He said, gesturing to you. You gave a small wave, biting your lip to prevent the ear to ear grin that was waiting to break out.

"By daughter you meant, like, grown woman?" The blond, James, asked.

"Yeah, it's summer vacation and she wanted to spend some time with dad before she had to go back to University." He explained. They all took in his words, exchanging whispers.

The phone rang, a landline on a table not far from you. Your dad answered it, uttering a few words before he set it down. "Right, I gotta go, all of you be nice." He said, giving you a quick hug and apologizing for having to leave so soon.

He left and you waved the boys goodbye before heading upstairs to unpack some more.

They waited until they heard your door close before they started talking. "Jesus, who would've guessed." Kirk asked, keeping his voice low just to be sure you couldn't hear.

"Who the fuck cares, what the hell do we do?" James asked, keeping his eyes on the stairs where you'd just gone.

"Fuck do you mean 'what do we do'? What do you think we do?" Lars whisper yelled, looking like he just wanted to slap him.

"We can't fuck the managers daughter." Cliff said, fumbling with his hands in his lap.

They kept discussing it, all agreeing that nothing could happen.

Then you came back downstairs in a bikini, holding a towel and a bottle of sunscreen, ready to sit by the pool. You didn't look at them as you walked past but you could feel all their eyes on you as you swayed your hips.

"Twenty bucks goes to whoever can last the longest." James blurted, still watching you through the windows as you rubbed sunscreen up your arms.

And thus the bet began, whoever could last the longest without giving into temptation got twenty bucks, the four men throwing down five dollars each.

[dashitsxx]

i might just be in lo-lo-love | hawks x fem!reader

summary. Bumping into him one time was an accident then the second time, until it gradually turns to coincidences. Yet, you've never realized to have your heads over heels for this man.

genre. fluff. sfw.

word count. 600+

warnings. none. just pure fluff <3

notes. inspired by so american by olivia rodrigo <3 it was initially supposed to be long but it was slowly diverting to angst for no reason 😭 anw! enjoy this short one shot! <3

A burst of enormous laughter leaves between both of you. The atmosphere dances in the joy of your relationship as grins plaster on your faces. The music on the radio blasts its harmony as you and him sing forth, enacting gestures and movements.

The speed of the car reaches for the wind as it refreshes the both of you.

Keigo looks at you, a charming smile forms on his pretty lips. You were in a joyful mood, bopping your head. To keep up with your energy, he does the same thing you do.

"You look pretty in my clothes," he smirks as he places his warm hand on your thigh. You feel your face burn as your cheeks are soon painted red, and you clear your throat to focus on driving.

"Stop teasing me," you blush. Keigo only chuckled as he squeezed a squish of your fleshy area. You giggle at the his response. Then, hum with the song.

Soon, you arrived at your destination and the both of you got out of the car. You breathed in the fresh air as you smiled widely and your eyes beamed at the scenery before you.

Being on top of the mountain gave you shivers but from exhilaration. The sun is falling slowly to sleep as it emits a glow of golden light. The trees swayed with the wind with its fluff of colourful variants of leaves. After the fence, the city comes into view.

You sprint with giggles towards the fence before grabbing a hold of it, in awe of the city under you.

"Keigo, this is so beautiful! Come, look at this!"

He watches you run forward as he lets out a grin then follows in pursuit, standing beside you. You had your mouth agape as you carefully studied the cityscape.

As a foreigner in an unfamiliar place, you will never forget how you met him initially, he showed you directions to the restaurant you've been dying to dine at. It took a few bumps of coincidence for you to have the courage, and ask him for dinner. Surprisingly, you and Keigo vibed with each other. Thus, the second date is followed by the third, the fourth, the fifth, and so on.

After all the shitty break-ups and worthless exes you've dated, Keigo was the only man who made you feel like you were a dream to him—it sounds absurd but it's true. However, being in this dream, you fear that sooner or later, you'll wake up to a nightmare... and you don't want that to happen.

"Isn't a heavenly scene? Kei, look there—hey, stop looking at me." You tapped his shoulder rapidly as your gaze lingered on the city.

"I am already looking," you shift your attention to your right side, only to find his eyes on you. You felt a rush of red flowering your cheeks instead you pushed his face backwards.

"Stop it."

"Okay, okay, I will," he chortled as he faced forward.

You place your elbows on the fence as you palmed both of your cheeks, trying to calm the butterflies that emerged in your stomach. Your eyes glance at him on your right side. You spot the corner of his lips tilted upwards subtly as a soft gaze crosses his face. The light of the sun adorned him as it gleamed on his golden-brown eyes. His blonde hair was brushed against the wind and his chin held a bit of a goatee, giving him a suave, chill look. Especially with that casual attire; a clean grey shirt and brown cargo pants matched with numerous accessories.

Oh, why is he so damn handsome?

You feel another rush of butterflies swirling in your abdomen as you abruptly look away.

Oh god, it's just not fair of him to make you feel this much. He is so unfair. Finally, a realization hits your mind that explains your wonders as you let out a silent giggle, enjoying the feels of nature.

You might just be in love with him.

all dividers are from @/cafekitsune, thank you <33

[luimagines]

pspspspsps may i have a scenario where the boys receive a kiss from their crush thamks

- bestie anon

You got it, Bestie! o7 :D

Prepare for massive pining.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Time

Time was having a hard time coming to grips with himself.

He would watch you from afar. Making sure that you were well taken care of and that all your needs were met. He didn't want to admit that he may have given you special treatment compare to the others but it was something that he didn't how to properly control.

The worse part of it was that he was beginning to suspect that you knew and were thus preparing to use it to your advantage.

"Time." You called to him as a warning before you latched onto his arm. 'I have a request."

Time looks to you, unaware of the soft look he gives you. "What is it?"

You don't miss it either, subconsciously matching it with your own. "I wanted to take a few of the boys down to the river to teach them some tricks of the trade that my father showed me. You're the head of group so I wanted to pass it by you. Is that ok?"

His heart flutters, betraying him over the severity of your questions. But it's light and there's little that needs to be done in the immediate. He sees no problem with it. Besides, how long would it take you to get there and come back? A few hours? The whole day? Either way, it's unlike you stay away past sun down.

"Sure. Thank you for taking it into consideration." He smiles. Although, it's not as if he's their father. They're free to do whatever they wanted for the most part. But it's nice that you thought about him.

You grin and pat his shoulder. "Any time. I suppose you'd like everyone to return before nightfall?"

Time clears his throat for a moment. Yes, that was exactly what he was thinking. How did you know?

With a small nod, he meets you head on. "If possible."

You nod back and lean in to kiss his cheek. "Then we'll be back before dinner."

You turn on your heel, as if nothing has happened and start gather a few of the younger members to take them on the short trip.

Time however can feel the very well crafted and fortified walls of his psyche crack slightly. Admittedly, he was caught off guard. But there was something in such a simple moment that only endeared you more to him.

It was so sweet. You did it so quickly. Were you even aware? Was that planned?

The moment replays in his head and he's forced to cover his face. He's a grown man- surely he would be past this level of fluster and tame the butterflies that tickle the inside of his torso.

His hand comes up and covers his mouth, slowly inching up to cover the rest of his face. That was cute. You're cute. And nice. And pretty. And delightful. And he's doomed.

Hopefully no else saw that.

Twilight

Twilight was almost certain that he was in love with you. Call him dramatic or exaggerating- but he was about 87% certain that he knew this feeling and that it was going to lead him down a very familiar path.

Part of him wanted to nip it in the bud and cut it off before it became anything larger than he knew he was capable of handling. The other part of him threw a fit at the thought of doing that.

He wants to be by your side and make you smile and laugh and make you pretty things and make sure that you're happy and- and- and-

"Hi Twilight." You hopped right next to him with your hand behind your back. "You seem deep in thought again. Care to share?"

Twilight clears his throat, ignoring the way he wants to blush at being caught. Even fi you have no idea what he was thinking about. "Nothing too bad. Just some things about our next steps. Sorry if I worried you."

You hummed and grabbed his arm, leaning on his without a care in the world. "Apology accepted. Here I thought that you had some dark secret or something that was eating you alive and would inadvertently change your life forever whether you kept it to yourself or told others."

Twilight chokes on his own spit. That's one way to say it.

"It can't be that bad." He tries to brush it off. "I was a little lost in thought, that's all."

"Hm..." You don't seem to believe him. "Alright. Keep your secrets, Mr. Man."

You lean over, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Just don't get too lost in thought anytime soon. Wild is about done with lunch. That's what I wanted to tell you. Anyway- that's all!"

Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute- Twilight tries to reach for you but you dance out of his range. What was that about?

You don't seem to want to acknowledge it but Twilight knows that it's going to be around in his head if he doesn't get any answers!

You laugh under your breath but he hears it. Something clicks in his mind to catch you. To get you to explain yourself. But also- something in him just wants to run.

So he starts to do so but you seem to catch on to what he's doing and also take off running. You take a turn away from the camp, trying to lose him in the surrounding thicket.

It excites him and he pushes himself faster to catch you.

Come back here!

Wild

Wild was watching you play a card game with Warrior and Legend, keeping them close to your chest as you looked at your opponent with a mischievous gleam in your eye.

Twilight snickers beside him. "They're going to notice."

"No they won't."

"Yes they will."

Wild rolls his eyes, turning to the other hero to face him head on. "No, they're not going to notice me. I am stealth and secrecy. I am invisible-"

"Wild, do you want to play with us?" You shout, still keeping your cards close even as you wave to him. "This game is really easy to learn if you're interested."

Wild chokes on his own spit as he looks back to you. This could be a chance to get close to you. Physically anyway. He can keep himself in check as he plays a simple game. You don't have to know how much he's been fantasizing about holding your hand or playing with your hair.

"Um..."

Twilight starts snickering a little louder, albeit trying to keep himself quiet. He's fails. But Wild wants to keep in mind that at least he's trying.

"Maybe!" Wild stands, decided to take the chance. "What do I have to do?"

"He can't join yet." Warrior points out. "Not until the match is over. It's too late to deal him in."

"Oh..." Wild tries to not sound too disappointed. "Next round then."

Legend is too focused on the game to comment but he plays down another card, only for you to cheer and place a different one. Legend curses as you take a small pile of acorns in the middle that they had piling up.

"One more and they win, Vet." Warrior hisses.

"I know! Don't remind me!"

You laugh and give a small wink to Wild. "Let me wipe the floor with these two first."

Wild can only smile. "I hope you win."

You grin, hopping up to give him a quick kiss to his cheek. He gasps but you seem none the wiser. "I'll take that as my good luck charm! I'm winning this!"

He coughs again, feeling himself grow a little hot under the collar. "As long as it's painless!"

"Naturally."

Warrior places down another card, which Legend seem to take advantage of- but you cheer again and win the game.

"Woo hoo! Let's go again. Thank you Wild!"

"Champion, help us." Warrior groans. "This is the third game in a row."

Wild sits down next to you, struggling to keep his composure. "SuRe. How do I play?"

Four

Four was going to lose his mind.

Here you were, helping him with fixing his tunic, and being incredibly close to his body, while also marginally whispering in his ear through the entire process.

It was maddening.

Four was trying his hardest to keep a straight face as you worked. What had happened was that he was working on sharpening your sword, as a request when you had tried to sit next to him and sliced the embroidery on his tunic.

He thought you were going to start crying with how apologetic you sounded. Between mentioned that he was doing you a favor to ruining something that had taken a lot of time, you had offered to fix it for him in return.

He didn't expect you to run off and come back with a small sewing kit and get to work right then and there.

"Again- I'm so sorry-"

"I know. You've said that ten times already." Four snorts, moving his arm out of the way so that you could reach it better. He doesn't expect you to lean closer, borderline putting your face against his chest as you work with the flayed threads.

Four can feel his cheeks start to burn and he has to look away. He's glad you're not in a position to see him at the moment. He's not sure if he would be able to handle himself in what would be considered the correct and polite way.

He coughs once and slowly moves his arm over your head. "It's not as bad you think it is. It's made in a way where it's easy to fix. It's not the first time this has happened."

"Really?" You seem to calm down. "What happened the first time?"

"I was wearing in the forge because I had a few orders backed up." four admits with a small laugh. Stay cool. Don't worry about your proximity. He's fine. He's totally fine. "I managed to get most of my work down, but at the cost of the treads. The designed has changed after some time."

"Oh thank god." You give a little bow with your head. "Because I had no idea what it looked like so I just planned on winging it and hoping that you didn't notice."

Four laughs and shakes his head. "I mean... I probably would. But knowing you did it would just make it more special."

"Really?" You snap your head up and you're nose to nose with him. "Ah- Sorry."

You pull back, before something comes over you. "Oh, what the hell!"

You kiss his the tip of his nose and grin. "In that case, I have to make this extra special then! Just you wait, Link! It's going to look... mediocre. But with feeling!"

Four has completely checked out at this point, feeling his blush finally push past his defenses.

"I'm glad you're ok with this. I still feel really bad."

"...I think I owe you now."

"What?"

"Nothing!"

Legend

He knew he was doomed before anyone else did.

It was a quiet thing at first. It usually is. It was just a little look here, a short conversation there and a giggle and a blush the next minute then a blinding smile the next.

Legend knew his patterns better than anyone would have been able to guess. He knew the route he was on. And he a afraid of going any further down the familiar road.

"Good morning, Legend!" You raised your hand in greeting.

Legend ruffled his hair, shoving his hat over his head. With a yawn, he waves back, ignoring the giddy way he feels knowing that you've called out to him specifically. "Good morning."

"Sit next to me! Breakfast is almost ready!"

He nods, making his way over to the log by the fire. He sits and tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "What's on the menu?"

"Eggs and bacon." Wild answers easily.

"I've never had bacon." You say absentmindedly. "So I hope it's good."

Wild looks up for a moment before he looks back down into the pan. "These have to be the best bacon I've ever made."

Legend snorts. "It's bacon. That's pretty hard to mess up."

"What do you usually have for breakfast, Legend?" You bump your shoulder with his. "Bacon and eggs."

Legend yawns again, shaking his head. "Just some bread and cheese usually. Nothing fancy."

You nod and rest your head on his shoulder. "I would always have a bowl of oatmeal...but I guess that's a bit harder to find while you're traveling than the rest of it, huh?"

"A bit." Legend rests his head on yours. This is ok, right? If you did it first, then it should be fine. It's safe, platonic, good. It's nice. It's doesn't have to be anything else.

You sigh before you lift yourself off of his, giving a quick kiss to his cheek. "I suppose it's just as good as everything else."

Legend's brain stops working. His eyes widen and all thoughts cease.

Wild had missed it thankfully, but the captain was already awake, along with the Rancher and the Old Man. They all send him knowing looks and smirking smiles.

Legend coughs. Where did that come from? Why did you do that? Why was that so cute?

It was the final nail on the coffin. Legend finds that he's fully embarrassed and unable to keep his head up, even while you're right next to him.

You laugh at his reaction, pulling away slightly. He stops you from getting too far despite his better judgement. You snort. "Too much?"

"The day just started." Warrior snorts. "Go easy on him."

You nod, still smiling. "Alright then. I will. Sorry Legend."

"It's fINe."

More giggles follow, and Legend realizes that he doesn't actually care that much. It's such a lovely sound.

Hyrule

Hyrule didn't know just how soft the world could be, not until he met you. It was hard to explain. One moment it was life or death and the next is was tender touches, feather light whispers and stolen glances.

His heart fluttered at the thought of being by your side. He gets nervous and shy but happy and playful. It was strange to feel a mix of everything soft but good and light.

His life was always full of intensity whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not. He was always on the move and everything was big and bright and bold. Suddenly, when he's next to you, it all comes to a stop and it's quiet. It's sweet and lovely and new and just as exciting as everything else.

"You ok?" You asked him out of the blue. You bumped your hips against his and it's enough for him to struggle to meet your eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Hyrule laughs nervously, ruffling his hair for good measure. He hopes that he doesn't seem too strange or weird. He just wants to have a good time with you today as you all make your way to the town. "Sorry, I'm just thinking about some stuff."

"Must be pretty serious." You nod, putting your hands behind your back. "It has nothing to do with me, does it?"

You're being cheeky but it's closer to the truth than Hyrule wants to admit. He coughs, hitting himself in the chest a few times for good measure. "You'll never know."

"That's a yes." You laugh. "What's it about? I'm not annoying you, am I?"

"Of course not!" He snaps to you, horrified about the implications. "I love hanging out with you! I would never think that!"

You snort, beginning to pink up a little. It's a lovely shade on you, Hyrule realizes. And they way you giggle, hiding your smile behind your hand simply makes it a sweeter image in his mind. "Rulie, I was kidding."

His mind comes to a screeching halt.

"...Oh." Hyrule can feel his face pink up a little as well. Perhaps he came on a little too strong. "Right...I knew that."

You giggle even louder and pat him on the head before you toss your arms around his shoulders. "You're a sweetheart, Traveler. May you never change."

You then give him a big kiss on his cheek, poking it for good measure as you tease. "You're too good for this world. I might just have to take you home with me."

He gulps, biting his lip in an attempt to keep his cool. "CoOl."

He loses it.

With his voice crack, he gives up completely and hides his face behind his own hands. You seem to find it more amusing, laughing louder at his expense.

"Don't worry, Link. I love hanging out with you too."

"...AwesOme."

Bury him, this is embarrassing. He thought he was better than this... At least you seem to be having a good time.

Warrior

Warrior was about to have a crisis.

Why were you so alluring? How can someone do everything so perfectly? How is it that he makes himself look like an idiot when he so much as opens his mouth when he talks to you?

Warrior knew that this was a dangerous road he was on.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he tries to keep the idea that he's being watched, either by Lana or by Cia. He can't afford to step out of his place. To be close to you would just put a new target on your back.

Granted, he knows that she's changed... supposedly. He has no reason to trust that Cia would be able to control herself if she couldn't do it the first time around- Ganondorf or no Ganondorf.

And here he was, spending more time trying to impress you and get your attention that he knew it was worth.

"Found a new target, lover boy?" Twilight knocks the side of his head, sitting down by his side. "You know you can ask for a painting of them. It would last longer."

"Shut up." Warrior punches him. "Don't make it weird. They're just... very nice to look at."

"Uh-huh."

"Don't say a word-"

"Hey!" Twilight calls out to you, getting your attention. You wave back and jog over.

"What's up?" You put your hands on your hips. Warrior can't believe this. He so needs to get back at Twilight for this. This is just cruel.

"The Captain and I need a third person opinion." Twilight explains naturally. Warrior has no idea where he's going with this. "Would it be better or worse if we were to compliment you on your hair today?"

You snort and raise an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're pardoned." Twilight smirks. "Warrior wasn't so sure if he should say something but I'm under the idea that he should."

Warrior coughs. Is he being helped or dragged alive? He's lost full control of the situation. What is he supposed to do?"

"Aww!" You grin and lean down to kiss his cheek. "Thank you very much, Captain. Just say so next time."

He makes a choked sound before he nods. He's surely blushing. You're little snicker is all the confirmation he needs.

Twilight gives a lazy salute. "Thank you for clearing that up Darlin'."

"Any time."

Warrior turns to Twilight as you walk away. The Rancher has the most face splitting grin he's ever. "You're welcome."

"You're horrible."

"I believe a thank you is in order."

"....No..."

"Alright."

Sky

You were so pretty, Sky sighed into his hand. And so sweet and sassy. It excited him. It caught his attention in more ways than he thought possible. He wanted to know everything you had to say. He wanted you to be happy and he wanted you to be safe.

He wanted to be your friend and he wanted you to like him so bad.

Sky knew that he was a romantic at heart and he knew (at least in some degree) that he was slowly crushing on you.

Not that he had any chance with you. He wouldn't dare be that hopeful. You seemed to get along better with Legend and Four than with him and he was ok with that.

He'd just admire you from a distance.

At least that's what he told himself.

"Hey." He approached you one day. He noticed that you had done something different with your hair and well... no one else commented on it. That's what people like, right? They change something up and get a compliment on it and it's nice, right? He's not overstepping some unspoken rule, right? There's no way he can overthink a simple compliment, right?

You turn to him, all smiles and oblivious to his internal turmoil. "Hey Sky! Good morning!"

He can feel himself flushing. Why is he already embarrassed? He didn't even say anything yet! He can't jump ship now!

"Good morning." He replies back, losing some of his bravado. He shouldn't say it. Oh, but he already has your attention. You're going to ask him if he needs anything. You're going to ask why he called out to them. You're going to ask him what's on his mind and he's going to have nothing to say to any your questions.

"What's up?" You pull some of your hair back and Sky's heart flutters with the movement.

"You changed your hair today." He admits softly. He anticipated your question yet it still managed to catch him off guard. There was no way for him to even remotely change the pathways in his head. He might as well be honest. "I thought that it looked really nice. I wanted to tell you that."

You blink before beaming.

He's aback by your reaction, but at least you seem happy.

"Oh Sky! You're a sweet heart!" You cry, leaning over. You kiss his cheek faster than he can react and poke his nose. "Thank you! I'm really happy with how it came out. I have to go help Time with something real quick, but I'll talk to you later, ok?"

Sky nods, not trusting his tongue.

"Thank you, Sky!" You call out as you walk away.

Sky takes a shaky breath. He didn't anticipate that reaction. His mind betrays him as it replays the soft touch of your lips against his skin. His hands come to cover his face as he falls into a squat.

That was cute. He's doomed.

Wind (Reader is same age as Wind)

Wind was hiding behind a rock, watching as you fluttered around the camp. You'd spend a little time between each guy, watch what he was doing, ask a few questions about it, then move on the next one.

They all seemed to give you a little bit of time to tell you about themselves, their hobbies, they're hopes, their passions and maybe, if you smiled sweetly enough, they would tell a little story as well.

It was driving Wind crazy.

It was taking too long! Each guy was getting their turn but never once looked around for him! He was cool! He had stories! He could make stuff too!

He huffed and tossed himself on the side of the rock, sliding down his hiding spot with his arms crossed. Some guys seemed to be annoyed when you talked to them, but he wouldn't dare treat you that way. They should feel honored to have your attention.

You were so special. You were wonderful. Incredible. Breath taking.

Wind jumps and pulls his arm away from the rock. He had gotten cut. Great, another disappointment. Wind pokes it, watching as little beads of crimson blink up at him as he shifts. "Ow."

"Are you finally going to come out, scardy cat?" You teased popping your head around the rock.

Wind jumped again, hiding his arm against his side. He says your name, because it's the only thing he can think to do. "H-hi!"

"I've been watching you." You continue to tease. "Just like you've been watching me! What are you doing over here anyway?"

"Um. I...Was..." Wind can't think of a lie fast enough. Given the way you raise an eyebrow, Wind knows that he also has his lying face on. He sighs, suddenly feeling stupid. "Hiding."

"Hiding?" You don't sound impressed. It's another hit to his pride. "Hiding from what? Get up, dork."

You giggle and grab his arm. Wind hiss and you drop him like a hot potato. "Wind?"

He looks back to his cut. There's more blood than before, but it's not the worst cut he's gotten. It just stings.

"Oh...oh my god, when did that happen?" You drop to your knees, taking a rag from your belt, to wipe the blood. "Wind! When did you get hurt?"

"Not long ago." He pouts, letting you do whatever. It's too late for him. There's no coming back from this. "It just happened."

You frown, putting pressure above the cut. Wind hisses again but doesn't move away. "No wonder. If Warrior saw this, you wouldn't get your sword back for a week."

"He acts like my dad." Wind gripes. "Who let him do that?"

"You do."

"What!?"

You laugh again, pulling the rag away. It appears that the bleeding has stopped. "Don't be stupid. Come hang out with the rest of us. It's not the end of the world."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't wanna."

"Pleeaasee?" You pout back, gesturing to his arm. "I'd even kiss it better."

"No, you wouldn't-"

You reach and take his wrist, pulling his arm away so that you can kiss the spot where he's hurt. Suddenly, it doesn't sting so much anymore.

He flushes a deep red color while you look... not that much better actually. "There. Come on. It's all better now."

You get to your feet and pull him up. Wind follows you without a second thought. Both of your faces are flushed with embaressment.

"What happened to you two?" Time raises an eyebrow.

"I fell." You blurt. "On top of Wind. Not my great moment."

Time hums and turns to Wind. "Is this true sailor?"

Wind curses in his head. Time has some knowing look on his face. He doesn't like it. Not trusting to speak, and only feeling more shame creep up his neck, Wind covers his face and nods.

Let them guess. He won't talk about it.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

10:30 ー NANAMI KENTO. and the dark awaits us all around the corner; but here in our place, we have for the day, can we stay a while and listen for heaven?

“I can feel you looking at me.”

“How do you know? Your eyes are closed.”

A brown eye opens to see you, unsurprisingly, resting your chin on your palm. Guilty as charged, you’ve been watching him. “I can’t truly enjoy our joint day off if I don’t look at you lovingly before you wake up,” you grin and despite your boyfriend’s best efforts, he chuckles lightly. “It’s Sunday,” you remind him unnecessarily with a giggle. “The world works differently on Sundays even if you’re a big bad jujutsu sorcerer with a world record of black flashes.”

“I regret letting you and Gojou meet,” Kento’s tired sigh only makes even more laughter bubble from your lips. You don’t know many people from the sorcerer life Kento told you about, but Satoru is a riot. Any choice of confections and the white-haired man will quickly divulge all the stories he has about Kento’s teenage years. Part of you is certain he’d do that even if sweet treats weren’t on the table though. “Have you been up long?”

You shake your head before falling back onto your side, “not too long." It's rare Kento has time to himself from his work as a sorcerer. It's complicated but you can understand the gist of it. Curses don't stop and thus, neither can he. You'll treasure the time he does have, at least.

You have been ever since he told you the truth about his job. What being with him would entail. He said it wouldn't be fair to keep it from you began getting serious.

It's only a matter of time before Kento retires and he can rest as much as he deserves. Malaysia. We should go on a trip soon. He's always wanted to go.

A comfortable silence falls over your room as you look at each other with a pair of matching smiles.

"Good morning," the blond's voice rumbles with a tired but satisfied hum. He reaches out a hand and you meet it halfway.

You kiss the back of his knuckles before pressing your lips to the tips of his fingers. "Morning," you whisper before holding his hand to your chest and twining your fingers.

You close your eyes and lean into his warmth. I never knew I could love somebody this much. The world is cold and cruel but Nanami Kento is proof that, despite that fact, there is still warmth and beauty to be found in it. "Let's just stay in bed today."

"And abandon our plans for brunch?"

"Yes," you say resolutely. There's no where you'd rather be than at home with your boyfriend.

Kento's thumb brushes the side of your fingers, "I normally wouldn't fight against staying in but it would be rude to the employees if we didn't go in for the reservation."

"Okay, okay," you groan. This is what happens when you make reservations and you're not selfish enough to inconvenience restaurant staff. "You take your shower fir-"

When you open your eyes, Kento is gone and the vibrant color and warmth of your room went with him.

The bed feels too large for one person.

Your hand isn't covered by another a few sizes larger than your own; it isn't engulfed in a palm that is a strange dichotomy of rough and soft. Instead your hand is in the open and bare, save for the ring gracing one of your fingers.

Finding it was an accident during a manic cleaning episode a few days prior. Kento had it hidden away neatly in a cupboard you almost always forgot you had.

Ah.

Reality sets in and your giddy smile drops.

Right.

1 WEEK AGO. OCTOBER 31, 2018 ; 23:15 ーThat's the time Itadori Yuuji tells you three words that destroy the center of your universe.

“Nanami is dead.”

Yuuji can’t look you in the eye when he tells you this, he can't bring himself to look. His fists shake at his side, but he forces himself to stay still awaiting your reaction. You're quietー too quiet. He closes his eyes to brace himself for whatever your reaction will be.

"It's my fault. I'm sorry. I couldn't..."

Will you yell at him?

Will you rightfully bring your hands down to strike him?

Or will you merely sob and have it haunt him for the rest of his days?

Nanami's gone and there's nothing of him to bring back for you.

"You've got it from here."

The least Yuuji can do is tell you what happened to the man that would never return home to you. Not even in pieces. There are so many bodies that can't be identified. So many people who will never go home to their families. Families that will never see their loved ones again.

He can't tell all of themー but Yuuji can at least tell you.

There's movement in front of him and Yuuji welcomes however your emotions have chosen to manifest. Yet when he feels your arms wrap around him, his eyes jolt wide open. "He saved you, didn't he?" Your voice is soft, melancholic. Sadness clings to your tone but he can't mistake the blithe and relief mixed in it.

"He saved you, didn't he?"

"I-" Yuuji's cracked lips feel even drier. "But I-"

"Don't ever apologize to me for living," it's the angriest you've sound since he stepped foot in your house and even then it's a delicate anger. "Kento saved you because he believed in you, I believe in you too. There's nothing for me to forgive."

The warm tones of the apartment you once shared with one of the greatest individuals Yuuji's ever known is beginning to blur. "I don't know what I'm fighting for anymore. I can't ever protect anyone that I want to save. Nanami should be here-"

At those words, you hug him even tighter. "I know that man better than anyone," you tell him firmly with that knowing tone all adults possess. "Kento didn't regret anything and I know he would do it all over again. I'm happy and blessed that I was able to fall in love with someone with such a big heart. So trust me when I tell you that Kento adored you and he would happy you're alive. I'm happy your alive. It's the job of us adults to worry about you troublemakers. So please, don't blame yourself. Kento would want you to hear that."

When the tears spill and the sobs rack his body, Yuuji feels resentment more than grief. All the while you hugged him tightly, rubbing circles into his back. You who should be crying right now if anything. You who should be angry at him.

He wants you to be angry at him.

"Why can't you just be mad at me?" Yuuji whimpers into the crook of your neck.

You kiss the side of his head despite how undoubtedly gross it must be from the sweat and blood and dirt its collected over the night. "Because I love you, you silly boy. Me and Kento."

That's what breaks him the most.

.

“Are you sure you don't want to spend the night?" Your expression is one of concern as you both stand at the door. "I can whip up something while you're in the bath. I'm sure I can find something of Kento's that you can fit."

Yuuji's grin is weak but he shakes his head, "it's okay. I've got a ride back to the school. They're probably sick of waiting for me."

With a smile and a final exchange of farewells, you close the door with a sigh. Yuuji is a strong kid, you know that much. Still that doesn’t stop you from worrying about him. I hope he takes everything I said to heart. Even just a little, bit by bit, until the boy is able to believe your words fully. You know the man you love, Kento wouldn’t have regretted anything.

I should have tried a little harder to convince him to stay for at least a shower and dinner. That driver could have waited a few more minutes. Or I could have invited them in to eat as well. You press your forehead against the door, welcoming the coolness on your skin. You’ll check on Yuuji tomorrow you think as silence truly settles over your apartment.

It's in that silence that you finally notice the shaking of your hands. No they've been shaking the entire time. You're thankful Yuuji was too distraught to notice.

He's gone, that's all that had been racing through your mind when those three words left Yuuji's lips.

I can’t let this poor boy see me cry.

It wouldn't have been fair to him. He blamed himself enough, you could see the self-hatred all over his face.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

It’s simultaneously a relief you can’t hear Yuuji’s footsteps anymore as much as it fills you with further dread.

Kento isn’t coming home.

Your chest heaves dryly as quiet gasps slip from your lips and your knees buckle.

He's gone.

He's gone.

He'sgonehe'sgonehe'sgonehe'sgoneー

Your throat clenches as a sob finally escapes your throat.

"Kento..."

[simonsrosebud]

Andreil. Neil has a little accident and has temporarily amnesia. He flips out and is running, falling in old patterns. Andrew and others look for him

THIS WAS SO FUN!!


Andrew knows Neil. Inside and out. He knows how he moves on the court and off, how he sounds when he and Kevin go at it versus when he’s beneath Andrew, how his lips twitch when he tries holding back the grin he sees in his father and the squinty eyes he doesn’t care to hide when he laughs, how he opens himself up when laid bare on the bed and wants wants wants whatever Andrew is willing to give. Andrew knows how he thinks, how he expresses himself, how he panics and worries and takes initiative.

Andrew knows Neil.

But when Neil wakes up in the hospital, one thing is clear.

Neil does not know Andrew.

It starts on the court, the Foxhole Court, during a match against Edgar Allan. It would, of course. The nest closed just a year and a half ago, and despite half of the players either killing themselves or getting killed, there was still something of a team left over when the season started in the fall. Not good enough to win, but not bad enough to lose easily.

Andrew’s post in goal was the same as always. Watch, defend, reflect. This time around with significantly less goals to block, since Kevin and Neil have taken control the second half.

Neil Josten, legally and fully, zipping around the court faster than the speed of light. Vice Captain, Andrew’s roommate and something else, PSU’s best legacy thus far.

And he goes down like he weighs less than a feather.

To be clear, his helmet comes off first, flying and rolling away from him as he goes tumbling, into the wall head first, and then underneath a beast of a human being post-impact. And when the Raven shakily gets up, Neil doesn’t.

Andrew blacked out after that. He blacked out from the second he realized it was Neil’s helmet teetering beside Kevin’s foot to the second Wymack told him he was stable, just unconscious.

That was yesterday.

Yesterday was bearable after that. Neil was alive and asleep and definitely had a wild concussion, but he was fine and within Andrew’s reach.

Now, he’s throwing up in a bucket and freezing when his eyes land on Andrew. And Andrew knows, he knows, right then and there, that this is not the same Neil Josten that came into this hospital. This is Nathaniel Wesninski. This is Abram. Andrew just doesn’t know where Abram left off.

The panic is there clear as day, so is the pain and the confusion, and Abram is lucky that he’s wearing the hoodie the doctor allowed Wymack to put on him while he shivered early this morning because Andrew’s pretty sure if he catches sign of his arms he’s going to have a meltdown.

Still, he tries. “Neil.”

Abram looks, answers to the name, swallows heavily. Neil exists in there somewhere. “You got checked into the wall, your helmet came off.”

And he’s shaking his head, trembling fingers coming up to his hair to pull on it. “Why am I- You- Millport isn’t- I-I, I can’t be here. What the fuck- What are you doing here?”

And oh, Neil Josten exists alright. If only just barely.

Andrew stands, calmly presses the button to call the doctor, and sits again. “You are my teammate. What is the last thing you remember?”

He scoffs, fingers tightening in the sheets. Don’t look at your hands. “You are not… You’re Andrew Minyard.”

“Old news.”

Neil, predictably, starts panicking more, because then Kevin is waiting outside the room and peeking just barely through the glass until Andrew locks the door on him, and Neil is scrambling against the bed, fingers shaking too much to take the IV out of his arm despite trying. “Fucking Christ,” Andrew grunts as he swats his hand away from it, reverting to gripping Neil’s wrists. If it wasn’t for his own good it would make Andrew sick to be restraining him like this. “Do not,” he warns.

“You brought him. I have to get out of here, I won’t- I won’t go back there-“

Neil chokes on his breath, trying to pull his hands away and jesus did he just try to head-but Andrew? “Abram,” Andrew raises his voice just loud enough to cut through the breathing and grunting and struggling.

Neil freezes, and it’s not in realization but in deep rooted terror. His face blanches and his hands make fists. “Who are you,” he whispers. “You’re- You’re supposed to be a no one, you’re not- you’re not supposed to know- I- you have to let me go.” “No-“ “Andrew please-“ “Stop it.” “You- You can’t make me go- He’ll kill me, they’ll kill me, you have-“

“Knock it off,” Andrew barks. He lets go of Neil’s hands and backpedals. He can’t do the touching and the begging and the memories, the grief, the brief loss, the-

“Your father is dead. Romero and Plank are dead. Lola is in prison, Riko is dead, no one is dying, and I am not a mole taking you back to Baltimore so shut the fuck up and listen to me,” he says. It’s fast and stern and Neil shuts up so fast that his head looks like it spins. Andrew isn’t used to talking so fast, not after being off his meds.

He takes a deep breath. “It is October, 2008. You are a junior at Palmetto State University, you are the caption of the Foxes Exy team despite your attitude problem. Your name is Neil Abram Josten. Your father kidnapped you a year and a half ago and tried to kill you. Your uncle’s people got there in time and killed him. We left Nathaniel in Baltimore with your father.” Neil drops his head to his hands. “The FBI made Neil Josten a real person. Kevin knows who you are. We all do. No one cares. We’re past that.”

And… Neil clearly doesn’t know what to think considering the way he shakes his head slowly and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. “How the fuck do you expect me to believe that?”

God, how to answer such a thing? Andrew can’t recount where Neil’s scars are because it would only allude to the idea that he looked without permission. He didn’t have photos on his phone to show proof, though he could text Nicky to bring as many as possible at the drop of a hat.

He could tell stories, though. “You burned and buried your mother on a beach in California after a run in that got her shot. Your father smacked you with a hot iron because you didn’t sit still enough. Lola taught you how to use knives; you, Kevin, and Riko all watched your father cut a man to pieces at Evermore when you were a child. You had a tryout for Tetsuji before your mother took you and ran,” he says. “When you got shot,” he points to his own shoulder, “you wouldn’t take off your kevlar vest to even take a shower. You have a binder that hides money and safe houses within codes. You speak German, French, some Spanish, and have been learning Russian with me for the past year. You have friends and a life and protection from the Moriyama’s,” he says and crouches by the bed so that he’s only a bit lower than Neil. “You are safe. You just have amnesia.”

Neil continues to stare. The monitor he’s hooked up to shows how fast his heart is beating, but Andrew doesn’t look at it. He doesn’t look away from Neil because he needs to be able to see the truth and raw honesty in Andrew’s face. He can see the wheels turning, gears piling themselves up, and something finally must click or at least nag at his brain because Andrew catches Neil’s eyes flick down to his lips for a moment. “Why are you here? Why not- If you’re telling the truth, then…” he trails off.

“Because you are paranoid about hospitals and have a fear of needles.” Neil frowns further. “And because I wouldn’t let them take you without me,” he says in Russian. Neil’s eyes dart back to his, wide and alert and yes, because Andrew knows he understands him. He wants to count it as a victory.

“How the fuck do I know Russian?” It comes out louder than Andrew thinks he means to. “I don’t think… I don’t know if I could speak it, but I understood you. Why did I learn it with you?”

Jesus. Andrew sits back in the chair beside Neil’s bed and raises a calm eyebrow. “You were sick of people trying to figure this out,” he gestures between the two of them. “And I didn’t want anyone to understand us when telling you I want to blow you.”

Neil almost flinches in surprise at that. This time he lets himself stare at Andrew’s face unashamed. “So that’s why you’re here.”

-

Taking Neil home is an ordeal. He has a panic attack when he sees his arms and face; another one when Kevin finally gets himself into the room unannounced; flinches and tries to curl in on himself when Wymack comes storming into the room upon hearing that he’s awake; sits awkwardly while Robin cries when he doesn’t remember her; and has another meltdown when Nicky finally shows up with photos, proving Neil’s existence on the Foxhole lineup and essentially that everything Andrew said is true.

He’s given painkillers for the raging concussion headache he gets by the time he’s discharged- pills that he doesn’t take, to be clear, and stumbles to Andrew’s side when Wymack steps closer to grab the hospital bag from him. He accidentally latches onto Andrew’s sleeve, then lets go instantly like he’s been burned. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“He’s coming with us, Coach.”

Kevin gets booted from coming to Columbia because Neil is still wary of him, and Aaron comes just because Andrew tells him to, even if just for his medical knowledge. Aaron tries telling him he’s not in med school yet, but it doesn’t change his mind. Nicky, well, Nicky just comes for the ride.

The week following is…

Well, for starters, Andrew hates sleeping on the couch because of it being out in the open, but there’s no way he will continue sleeping in his bed with Neil like normal. They’re not there anymore.

The only upside is that when Andrew tells him he’s sleeping in his room, Neil goes upstairs and stands in the doorway of his room, albeit unsurely, without being told which room is which. His autopilot has been working, but when it comes to detail and memory he blue screens.

He doesn’t sleep, and Neil is in pain because he won’t take anything to relieve the pain, and Aaron won’t shut the fuck up about forcing him to take something.

Then, Neil runs.

He’s out the door before anyone else is awake, before he can be caught, and runs two miles. Through the neighborhood and onto a main road. He runs. His phone is left on Andrew’s bed and he shouldn’t even be running anyway with the state of his head.

Nicky is the first to notice. He’s nosy as always, and peeks into the bedroom to check on him at 5am. Andrew knows the second he rushes downstairs with a haunted look on his face. Stubbornly, all Andrew can think is not again.

To his frustration, Aaron is the one who finds him. Tells Andrew to follow Neil’s usual running pattern, path. Andrew’s never been on a run with him, though, because he’d rather stab himself. Nicky did it once in Palmetto, and Aaron gave in with Neil and Kevin back in March when he and Katelyn went through a brief rough patch.

And despite all odds, despite Neil not truly knowing his way around Columbia in this state, he’s sitting on the curb at his usual halfway point spot. Also known as the spot Nicky picked Aaron up from when he gave up after two miles.

Neil doesn’t apologize. Doesn’t make excuses. Just slides into the passenger seat and waits for the other two to go back inside before saying to Andrew, “Don’t let me run.”

“Don’t run.”

“I can’t- I’m not all there… yet,” he looks distraught as he taps his temple. “I know I shouldn’t run, I clearly have a life here and people I care about. But I’m-I’m still in Arizona in my mind. It was my first reaction to everything for longer than I can remember.”

So Andrew nods. “I won’t let you run.”

Day three and four are fine. Neil knows he likes pecan pancakes even though he had never had them until three weeks ago, and him and Aaron are just as douchey to each other as usual despite Aaron saying anything to make him believe he’s a dick. Neil Andrew catches him asking, yes or no, before stealing Andrew’s cigarette.

Night five is when nightmares start up, and they continue throughout the next week. Andrew isn’t a stranger to them, neither is Neil, but these are vivid. They are fuzzy memories twisted with what his mind fills in, and the second time in one night that Neil wakes up nearly screaming, he staggers down the stairs on unsteady feet into the den where Andrew is, sitting up and alert as he stands in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights. Neil drops to his knees, gasping, and pushes himself against the wall. Andrew has to lower in front of him slowly, and makes sure that Neil is watching as he puts a hand on the back of his neck. The effect is the same as always.

“Riko waterboarded me,” he wheezes, sucking in a harsh breath. “True or not true?”

Andrew purses his lips. “True. He invited you to Evermore over winter break your freshman year with a threat to make my rehab… therapeutic reenactments.” It feels like bile on his tongue, Neil snaps his head up, though, as if understanding what the reenactment was. “You went. He tortured you for two weeks.”

“And… Ichirou shot him in the head,” he whispers. “True? Or not true?” He shudders when Andrew nods.

Neil chews on his lip. “You and me… having sex,” it rocks Andrew to the core, thinking that Neil is still referring to a nightmare, but the curious and comfortable set to his body tells otherwise.

“True.”

Neil hums, ears and neck pink. “Do- Did we… do that a lot?”

Andrew wills himself not to crack. “Sex, no…” he started slowly. “Only twice,” he murmured. “Other things, yes.”

Neil looks away for a hot moment, taking a slow steady breath despite his red cheeks and goosebumps along his collarbone. Then he frowns deeply again, reminded of something more sinister than careful touches and honey eyes. There’s a few more he confirms or denies, and eventually Neil closes his eyes. “They’re blending together. All these fucking nightmares.”

“I will set them straight for you,” Andrew promises. “Trust me to tell the truth.”

Neil swallows, heavy and nervous, and cracks his eyes open. It takes him a few minutes to settle, to let his eyesight fully focus, before he looks up and meets Andrew’s eyes, blue gemstones alluring and tormented. “I trust you.”

[des8pudels8kern]

If I were to write a Star Wars fic (which I won’t, as working full-time does not leave me with enough mental energy to be properly actively fannish), it’d be an epic AU where Obi-Wan also falls down the shaft at the climax of his fight with Maul, is presumed dead, and then pops up during the Clone Wars as a mysterious agent of chaos whose initial goal is just to rattle and provoke the Jedi into shedding at least a bit of their apathy disguised as serenity and their superiority complex (so, Obi-Wan choosing to help an entire planet of children caught in a horrific war was bad and aggressive, deserving of first repudiation and then probation, but when Knights and Masters order enslaved sentients into battle it’s duty and necessary to uphold the values of the Republic and thus Order?). He’s bitter, he’s angry, and he wants to destroy the Order. Well, the Order as it is. All talk, so little regard for actual decency, and no infrastructure in place to protect the children under their care.

There’d be a semi-humorous scene where Cody (who is... compromised, okay, he knows it, but this evil fallen force user is just different from the other evil fallen force users, okay) comes across Obi-Wan, bleeding from a fresh gash on his head (”What happened to you? - Oh, nothing, dear one; I just tripped.”) one eye clenched shut where the blood is dribbling down, yada yada, they do their usual song and dance about no, you question your allegiance and join my side, and then.

What’s that?

Cody bends down and picks up the thing that’s caught his attention. It’s round, and not quite flat, and ye--- yellow. He narrows his eyes at the infuriating pain in the ass in front of him.

“Tripped, huh? Deliberately, I assume?”

The man’s gaze flits down to the coloured lens balancing on Cody’s finger now, the exact same shade as his one open eye.

“When you arrived, the light of your presence overwhelmed me and caused me to falter. It can be quite challenging when one has delved as far into the dark as I have,” the fucker tries to lie to Cody’s face, voice as serene as the calmest of Jedi Generals fresh out of meditation, and maybe Cody needs to reconsider how trustworthy anything spoken in that tone really is.

Cody throws the lens at him, and the offending item manages to land on his chest, where blood has soaked into the shirt, and sticks to the fabric, staring at him accusingly.

“What kind of nerf-brained idiot fakes being a Sith? The entire Order is after you!”

The nerf-brain winces, then sighs and droops. He rubs a hand through his suddenly tired-looking face. The blood from his apparently actually self-inflicted head-wound that was meant to disguise the missing lens is smeared all over his cheek now, which looks ridiculous and is somewhat worrisome because Cody is used to bloodshed and knows that it’s usually not a good sign when people forget that they are bleeding. It does match the bone-deep exhaustion etched in the other man’s features, though, now that his mask of flirtatious nonchalance has dropped.

“In my defence, I honestly did not expect it to go this far.” He spreads his hands and pulls a somewhat forced-looking version of his usual boyish grin. “I assumed I would get in two, maybe three strikes before the Order went on alert and I got caught. When they didn’t, I decided to... provide further motivation.”

His right eye is grey-blue, as fathomlessly deep as the waters of Kamino, and Cody wonders what can drive a man to pretend to be evil incarnate to catch the attention of an organisation of essentially super-powered sentients in the middle of a war.

Another trickle of blood from the absolutely needless head wound snakes its way down the side of the man’s face, making it clear that, whatever his motivation might be it’s not a healthy sense of self-preservation.

Maybe Cody can get him to take out the other lens, too, so he can check his eyes for signs of a concussion.

And get a closer look at the colour.

...At least now he’s not compromised by a Sith anymore?

[tired-biscuit]

18+ fem!reader // quirkless AU. cw: alcohol, infidelity.

thinking about your friend's sweetheart of a boyfriend kirishima, who stays up and helps you clean after everyone else has already either passed out on your couch, or left the party you've thrown to celebrate your new job promotion, and thus an upcoming - unavoidable - switch to another city.

it's almost four in the morning, you're tired from all the socializing and drinking, and yet you catch yourself feeling pleasantly surprised by the fact that your friend's new boyfriend offers to keep you company as you try and sort out your home into its previous state of tidiness that you're normally used to.

the task before you is certainly no easy job after hosting such a fun party, however luckily for you, kirishima - or kiri, as he tells you to call him - is still as talkative and chipper as ever as he helps you gather and take out all the garbage, screws shut and sorts the remaining bottles of alcohol back into the fridge, and makes sure that all of the chairs find their rightful place back at the dining table, exactly where they belong.

and before you know it, all that's left to do is to take care of the dishes. feeling bashful all of a sudden from accepting so much help from a man you barely know, you repeatedly try to reassure him that you can handle this pesky little chore all by yourself, so that he can go join his girlfriend upstairs in the guest room because she must be surely missing him by now.

however, eijirou, being the good sport that he is; insists on offering a helping hand by grabbing a nearby dishcloth and waving you over to the pile of dishes that are waiting for you both, now, it seems.

so, you agree - happily. selfishly. even make a little show of it by rolling your eyes before approaching. i mean, how couldn't you, when he's just so nice?! he stands next to you by the sink, all big and warm, glancing at you every so often from the corner of his eye, easily making conversation and asking you where he should sort the various plates and glasses which you've still got to pack in the upcoming weeks. he makes you ogle a little bit whenever he stretches his arms to open and close the cupboards you point your chin towards every time. makes you leer.

there's chemistry; an instant spark you fail to snuff out even though deep down you know you should - he's your friend's man, for fuck's sake, not yours. it's tough. you try not to flirt whilst you think about the faint nip of guilt that's appearing in your conscience every now and then, but you simply have to admit it to yourself; you're attracted.

he's handsome and nice on the eyes with his broad shoulders, burly physique and defined jaw. strong. enticing. just your type.

and that's not all. after sneaking several looks at him during the party, you've learned that he has this constant grin playing on his face that you could almost describe as cheesy from how big it gets, and a thunder of a laugh that had struck your very soul whenever it boomed throughout the space during the course of the night.

but those are all things you've noticed from afar. now that you can see him more up-close, you realize that his eyes are striking and clear. they burn like a forge no matter the hour, making it seem like his irises contain molten glass. the feverish intensity in them matches the colour of his hair. it's like he burns from within - a true embodiment of a wildfire breaking free stands right before you.

he doesn't burn you, of course, as much as you think he would own the power to actually do it. the touch of your fingers brushing against his bigger, more calloused ones - god, they're just so thick - whenever you hand him a utensil or a cup is shiver-inducing, yes, but you also know that it is purely coincidental.

though, the touch of his hand, landing onto the small of you back the moment the dishes are taken care of, isn't coincidental. it isn't coincidental at all.

just like the way he turns and looks at you then, so attentive and inquisitive all of a sudden, isn't. staring up at him with a hammering pulse and a tight throat, you realize you're standing much closer to each other than you thought at first. the proximity is already small, but as if he's trying to provoke your limits, he makes it even smaller when he takes your hand in his so that he can wipe away the droplets of water off your almost-trembling digits.

he's still looking at your pretty manicure as he places the dishcloth back onto the counter. the way his callouses scrape your palm is to die for. it makes your stomach clench, because it tells you he's a working man. a capable one, who could fix things for you with seemingly no trouble.

a man who could perhaps help you set up the furniture that will surely be causing you many headaches as you settle in your new apartment.

"you're moving in a few weeks, right?" he asks quietly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. you've noticed that he slurs on his words a bit, but the rasp that riddles his voice still makes you nearly preen from how inviting it is to listen.

"yeah, that's, uh... that's right," is all you reply with, because it's all you're capable of at the moment. the lump inside your throat is still annoyingly present, and the kitchen is semi-dark, and you're both tipsy and he's standing so close, towering over you in a way that you can smell his potent scent and almost taste it sitting on the flat of your tongue at the same time.

there's silence. and also tension. the sticky kind.

"aw... what a shame, really," he mumbles, the corner of his mouth kicking upwards before he turns it into a subtle pout instead. he sounds genuine even if the expression that he now allows to show on his face seems to be masking a different motive. he almost looks... lustful.

wait, didn't he remind you of a puppy, at best, just mere hours ago? who is this wolf, now?

"what is?" you ask, trying to mentally push away all the immoral ideas that are forming inside your mind at the sight of him. his teeth are so sharp... he truly is no puppy, hmm?

as if on cue, he smiles, no, smirks, as he looks down at you. he tightens his grip and strokes your knuckles with his thumb one, two, three more times, before he brings your hand up to his lips then, and whispers, "the fact that i'll probably never see you again."

the sentence he leaves hanging in the air is like a scapegoat. a reason worthy enough for him to ram his cock inside your treacherous little cunt that you've been hiding from him underneath your too short skirt all night long.

after all, it doesn't really matter if you fuck him just once, right? you saw how he's such a good boyfriend, so caring and loving - surely he can slip up just one time? and it's not like it'll lead into something more. you'll move, you'll forget about each other and after enough time passes, you'll start doubting if the entire thing even actually happened.

that's it. you'll forget all about how his hands feel so big and rough as he runs them along your thighs; how he obscures you from sight the moment he sits you down on top of the counter and makes you wrap your legs around his waist whilst he leans in to kiss your jaw.

you'll erase from your memory the way he pulls you closer, to the very edge of the marble, just so that he can fuck into you as fast as he's able because it's supposed to be a dirty secret. erase how big his cock feels as he bottoms out then, groans into the side of your neck and lets it throb inside your belly. how he looks so mesmerized, with his rosy lips parted and his face flushed, when you hike that wretched skirt of yours up and he falls in love with a dripping wet pussy that definitely isn't his girlfriend's but that he's sinking into just as happily all the same.

you'll forget all about it, both of you truly will. he definitely won't look you up on instagram afterwards. won't slide into your DMs. won't ask you out. won't spend the weekend at your new place, helping you assemble furniture and fucking you on top of it right after the job is done. won't leave his girlfriend, who is also your friend, just to chase after you. won't, won't, won't.

he promises you that, even though his tongue is deep inside your mouth already, and he's holding onto you like he's scared you'll break apart if he even as much as thinks about releasing you from his grip. he just likes you so much. too much.

because unbeknownst to you, all that takes for a fire incarnate to blaze...

is a spark.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: okay this is so weird but I was in Costco and randomly thought about if Dean was there he would be running to all the sample stations and taking the samples LOL. Can you make a sister story around that idea??

A/N: that’s so funny and so true HAHA. I hope this is what you were looking for. Requests are always open!

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

There was a very specific moment in my life that I could pinpoint as the exact second when I realized Dean Winchester might be a terrible influence on me.

It was years back, during one of our rare breaks from hunting. We were in some sleepy little town, the kind where the biggest attraction was a “World’s Largest Ball of Twine” or something equally ridiculous. The day had been slow, and we’d been on the road for what felt like forever. Sam was buried in a stack of research, as usual, and Dean and I? Well, we were bored out of our minds. That’s when I suggested, half jokingly, “Why don’t we hit up Costco?”

Dean, ever the thrill-seeker, instantly perked up. “What, like, for real?”

And thus began our now-famous Costco adventures.

Now, months later, here I was again, sitting in the backseat of the Impala, eyes wide and sparkling as I glanced out at the road ahead. I already knew what was coming. Sam, who was still focused on the case in his lap, wouldn’t see it coming until it was too late.

But I had plans. Plans involving wholesale and samples. I’d thought about it for a while—just the idea of Dean and me gorging ourselves on all the free samples was too good to resist. And I could already feel my mischievous grin creeping up.

"Hey, Dean," I said, the words dripping with anticipation.

He glanced up from the radio dial, already sensing something was coming. “Yeah?”

I didn’t even try to hold it in. I let out a giggle and said, “I’ve got a craving for Costco.”

Dean didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He just turned his head slightly toward me, his eyes lighting up with recognition. “Costco? Oh, you mean...”

I grinned. “Yep. Samples.”

Dean’s grin matched mine in an instant. He didn’t need more explanation. He knew exactly what I was talking about. “Hell yeah. I’m in and I’m always in for hitting up the best food court in all of America after.”

"Yes! Costco hot dogs for the win!" I shouted, unable to contain the excitement bubbling up inside me.

Sam, who had been completely zoned into his case notes in the driver’s seat, suddenly glanced at us through the rearview mirror. “Wait... what?”

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I burst into giggles, Dean doing the same, as we both looked at Sam like we were planning the most genius heist ever.

“Sammy, you’re not telling me you’re not on board for the Costco Sample Run?” Dean asked, practically bouncing in his seat.

Sam blinked a couple of times, trying to process the information. “Costco? You’re both... serious right now?”

I could barely breathe between my laughter. “You should really join us, Sammy.”

Dean shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Seriously, Sam. It's free samples. Then we hit up the food court. You in?”

Sam glanced between us, his expression shifting from incredulous to exasperated. “You two are... crazy. But I swear, every time you get an idea in your head...”

I shot back at him, “You know you want to, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything else. He just muttered under his breath while Dean turned the wheel toward the nearest Costco parking lot.

Once we parked, Dean was already out of the car before I even fully unbuckled my seatbelt. The air smelled faintly wholesale delight. I jumped out of the car, following him inside with a grin on my face so wide it felt like my cheeks might split open.

“Alright, let’s make this quick,” I whispered conspiratorially to Dean as we walked through the sliding doors. “We don’t want to miss any good ones.”

Dean, grinning like a child at an amusement park, leaned toward me. “I’m ready. We gotta hit every station.”

“Exactly.” I grinned back.

We were off, darting through the aisles like a pair of maniacs. And then, we saw it. The first sample station—meatballs. Tiny, sizzling, aromatic meatballs. Dean and I were practically on top of the booth before the worker had a chance to hand them out.

“I’ll take one,” Dean said, before grabbing a toothpick and stabbing at a meatball, like it was some sort of prize.

I followed suit, grinning wildly as I took my own. “Oh man, this is good.”

Dean chewed thoughtfully, then nodded. “Okay, that’s a win.”

I didn’t even need to say anything else. We both knew we were in this for the long haul now. Sample station after sample station, we attacked them all—shrimp skewers, cheese sticks, mini quiches. It was a marathon, and we were winning.

At one point, we hit the dreaded “protein bar” stand, where the bars looked suspiciously like they had been made out of recycled cardboard. I knew Sammy would like this. The worker was cheerfully handing out tiny pieces, and I could feel both my stomach and my sense of humor brace for impact.

“Oh God,” I whispered to Dean, barely able to hold in my laughter as I grabbed a piece. “This is gonna be awful.”

Dean grinned, his face already scrunching in anticipation. “I don’t know, kiddo. Maybe it’s a good one.”

I took a bite and immediately regretted it. “Nope. This is cardboard in bar form.” I gagged a little and swallowed, grimacing. “This is... the worst.”

Dean couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it. “What kind of sick person makes this?” he muttered, his face twisted with disbelief.

“I think this is what they feed prisoners,” I said between gasps of laughter, trying to clear the taste from my mouth.

Dean looked at the protein bars, shaking his head. “That’s a crime. This should never be legal.”

I leaned over toward the worker, who was busy talking to another customer. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” I whispered to Dean.

Dean’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Oh yeah. Let’s grab another... and we’ll get it to Sammy.”

I grinned like a kid who’d just stolen candy from a store. Quietly, while the worker was distracted, Dean and I grabbed a couple of extra bars, slipping them into our hands when no one was looking.

“You know he’s probably gonna love this,” I said, already anticipating Sam’s face when we handed them to him.

We both stifled our laughter as we moved away from the booth, already plotting how we would surprise Sam with the disgusting health bar.

Eventually, we wrapped up our sample hunt. Dean and I had both stuffed ourselves with tiny cups of chili, minuscule bites of sandwiches, and more meatballs than I could count. But the real fun started when we hit the food court.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Dean said, his eyes sparkling as we approached the counter.

I practically skipped up to the food stand, my mind already set on the main event: the hot dogs.

“Can we get uh,” Dean said to the worker, practically leaning over the counter in excitement. “Six hot dogs. And don’t skimp on the mustard.”

I grinned, already salivating. “And the soda. You can’t forget the soda. Costco soda is the best.”

“Best deal in America,” Dean added, his voice full of absolute conviction.

The worker handed us our order, and we took our trays, sliding into a booth near the window. The moment I bit into that hot dog, I knew Dean was right. There was something about Costco’s hot dogs—cheap, delicious, and perfect. I couldn’t even explain it, but they just tasted better than anything else.

Dean was already halfway through his first hot dog, his eyes closed in bliss. “This is the real deal, kid. No fancy restaurant can beat this.”

I nodded, my mouth full. “It’s like they put magic in these buns.”

The silliness of the moment—it was a perfect break from the chaos of hunting and the endless fights with demons and monsters.

Sam finally arrived at our table, looking utterly unimpressed, but a little more amused than he let on. “You two are unbelievable,” he muttered, looking at the hot dogs we’d demolished in minutes.

“Come on, Sammy. Try one. You know you’re curious,” I teased, holding out my extra hot dog to him.

Sam looked at it, his face still skeptical. “I’ll pass.”

Dean leaned in, grinning like a madman. “I get it. Too good for Costco hot dogs, huh? Well, I promise you’re missing out. It’s the best hot dog in America. Don’t make me prove it.”

“Yeah don’t worry Sam, we got you something else incase you get hungry later.” You grinned, thinking back to the nasty protein bars you and Dean grabbed for him. Dean snorted, “Oh yeah man, you’re gonna love them.” He looked at you and you couldn’t hold back the laughter that erupted.

Sam sighed, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You’re both insane.” But even Sam couldn’t stay grumpy. As we sat there, devouring more hot dogs than I thought was humanly possible, I realized how much this little moment meant. It wasn’t about the samples or the hot dogs or even the ridiculousness of our mission—it was about being together. Being a family. And in this strange, crazy world we lived in, those moments were what kept us grounded.

I watched Dean, his face smeared with ketchup, and felt a warmth spread through me. It didn’t matter that we were on the run or hunting monsters. What mattered was that we were here, together, sharing this absurd, beautiful, ridiculous time.

“So, what’s next?” I asked, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

Sam sighed deeply, leaning back in his seat. “We hit the road again. We’ve got a couple hours of driving ahead of us before we get to the town where all the women are disappearing.”

“Oh yeah, let’s save these women. I hope they’re hot.” Dean said, a smirk creeping across his face.

I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Ew, Dean.”

He just gave me a wicked grin. “What? A guy can’t dream?”

“You’re gross,” I said, slapping his arm lightly, though I couldn’t keep the laugh from creeping into my voice.

“I’m just saying,” Dean leaned in, elbows on the table. “If I’m going to put my life on the line, it’d be nice if I got something out of it.”

I gave him a pointed look, narrowing my eyes. “You're seriously gross.”

Dean just grinned wider, not even a little bit fazed. “Alright, let’s head out.”

We all stood up, gathering our trays and trash, tossing them into the bin before walking toward the door.

As we walked toward the Impala, I couldn’t help but elbow Dean with a grin, giving him a subtle nod toward my pockets. He caught my drift instantly and by the time we made our way to the car, we were giddy. There was something about the utter absurdity of it all—Dean and me, sneaking around, grabbing the bars while the worker wasn’t looking, then sneaking them into our pockets—that just felt right.

We got in the car and didn’t even settle before

I giggled and I pulled the protein bars from my pocket and tossed them into Sam’s lap. “Here, Sam. We got you a little something.”

Sam blinked down at the protein bars, his eyebrows shooting up in genuine surprise. “What... what is this?”

I leaned back, unable to contain my laughter anymore. “It’s a surprise.”

Dean, fighting his own laughter, added, “You’ll love it. It’s the finest protein bar Costco has to offer. Trust us.”

Sam’s face twisted in confusion, and then he stared at the bars like they were some sort of alien artifact. “You’re seriously giving me this?”

Dean, unable to hold it in any longer, burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh, you’re gonna love it, Sam. It’s like chewing on cardboard and regret. You’re into that stuff.”

I was already in tears, clutching my stomach from laughing so hard. Sam, however, just looked at us—amused but also kind of horrified.

“You two are the worst,” Sam muttered, though I could see a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Dean slapped Sam on the back. “You’ll thank us later when you get hungry, I promise.”

As we drove off into the sunset, my stomach full and my heart full of silly, stupid joy, I couldn’t help but think that, in a world full of monsters and chaos, moments like this—moments of pure, ridiculous fun—were the ones that made everything feel just a little bit more normal.

And honestly? If that wasn’t the best thing in the world, I didn’t know what was.

[shuaboo]

it’s not your fault that they hover

🧺 kim jiwoong x reader one-shot fic // lowercase intended // cw: high school au, all the frequently shown characters are legal (18-19, thus graduating), popular jock jiwoong, nerd student council reader, established relationship, popularxnerd trope, jealousy, mostly fluff, jiwoong is still blonde here (not rly relevant to the story), once again haobin canon // wc: 2.3k

💋 a/n: popular bf jiwoong is finally back!! 🥰 i also have texts lying around so its either i post those tomorrow or later today <3 i miss blonde jiwoong soooo bad

friday. the last day of the week, but probably your busiest. the school has been preparing for an after-game event regarding the seasonal game against your rival school, and it hasn’t been easy. the burden of planning the event has fallen on the shoulders of the student council, which you are a part of. so it’s safe to say you’re not having the best week.

but you are looking forward to one thing today, and it’s jiwoong’s football practice! your sweet boyfriend invited you to come watch him play a practice match against another school after your meetings, and who were you to deny him? besides, you did need a break from all the planning. okay, sure— watching a bunch of jocks play against each other isn’t really the ideal way of a “break” , but you’re willing to do it for jiwoong.

it is now 3:30 PM, and your last meeting just ended. usually classes end at 4, but you’re off early today. you fix your stuff as you chat with your best friend hao, who is going to watch practice as well because of his boyfriend hanbin. “i’m so happy that was the final meeting for this event. i honestly can’t wait for it to be over with so i can stop stressing.” you say, exhausted from all the work. hao nods in agreement, while also looking stressed himself. “i know right, i got assigned as the head of the music department for the after party and im like— what the heck do i know about that stuff? i play the fucking violin, i’m not a dj!” he says this in an exasperated tone that makes you giggle, but you feel for him.

as you finish up, hao speaks again. “did jiwoong ask you to watch their practice game? i think it starts in like 20 minutes. i’m going to wait for hanbin because we’re going on a date after.” your ears perk up at the mention of your boyfriend, suddenly remembering something. “yeah actually i am. by the way, can you come with me real quick to the 7/11 just outside the school? i’m buying gatorade for jiwoong and snacks for myself.” hao holds a thumbs up at your request, and you grin.

time goes by and you’ve got your snacks and drinks. you’re on your way to the field where the football team usually plays, and you see a lot of people have come to watch as well. you and hao go to the bleachers and find a place where jiwoong can see you. eventually, the two of you find a spot near a group of girls who seem to be watching as well. some of them see you and smile, so you return the gesture before sitting down.

as practice starts, you make eye contact with jiwoong. he grins and winks at you, making you roll your eyes. “ugh, i still can’t believe you ended up with that guy. now i don’t have anyone to go to bookstores and cafes with!” hao says jokingly and pouts, as you let out a laugh. “hey! before we even got together you were going café hopping with hanbin! he stole my bitch for real.” he laughs and smacks your shoulder, before you both pay attention to the game.

you have your full attention on jiwoong. watching him play has always been fascinating to you. he seems to love football so much and has so much dedication to the sport, which makes you love him even more. he kicks the ball and scores a goal, which makes you clap in excitement. something catches you off guard, something that makes both you and your best friend look beside you. one of the girls from the group beside you had screamed and squealed quite loudly when seeing jiwoong score a goal.

you couldn’t help the jealousy bubbling up in you, hearing them all murmur amongst each other: “omg, girl he so did that for you!” “your man is so good!” “you totally need to get with him.” the way they all push her around making her think she has a chance with jiwoong almost makes you feel bad. you know she doesn’t stand a chance, because he has you. so why were you feeling so jealous? it’s not like she knows you’re with jiwoong. sure, a lot of people know you’re together (thanks to him kissing you after a game when you first got together). but it doesn’t mean everyone does.

hao seems to notice that you’ve spaced out, and he knows his guess that you’re feeling jealous is right. after all, even before jiwoong came into your life, hao knew you best. “oh girl… don’t look so down. you’ll concern jiwoong! she’s got no chance against you, swear. they’re just a bunch of delusional juniors who aren’t aware he’s in a relationship.” he pauses, before smirking and getting closer to you. “besides, you could use this as an opportunity to show these girls that jiwoong’s all taken by you.” your ears and cheeks turn red, thinking of all the ways that you could possibly show them that you’re dating jiwoong. you slap your hands onto your face, and you find jiwoong on the field. to your dismay, he sees you with your head in your hands and looks at you with concern. he mouths an “are you okay?” at you and you give him a thumbs up before blowing a kiss to him. he grins and dramatically catches your kiss, making you giggle.

“see? you’ve got that man wrapped around your finger.” hao says, and you look at him smiling. “thanks, i honestly just can’t help but feel jealous sometimes because i’m not as popular as jiwoong, so there’s no doubt that some people wouldn’t know who i am. i guess i just felt a bit insecure when they were like— hyping her up n’ stuff…” hao rubs your back and nods, understanding how you feel. “let’s not think about that now, let’s just watch the game.” you nod your head in agreement, and you both continue to watch. occasionally cheering when your boyfriends do something cool.

the game has now ended, with your school’s team being the winners. most players have gone to the showers, but you see jiwoong approaching. he smiles in your direction, and you smile back.

suddenly you hear the same group of girls squealing again. oh. they thought jiwoong was smiling at their friend. you turn your head to face them, and you see the girl clutching a plastic bag that contains what you assume to be energy drinks and snacks. this makes you clench your fist, but hao puts a hand on your back to calm you down.

as jiwoong is about to approach you, the girls push their friend in front of him. “u-uhm, hi jiwoong! uh— you did played good earlier… i really liked watching you. you play really well, i really like you— uh, your play style!” she stutters out, her cheeks flushed. “this is for you, by the way! good luck at the actual game!” she says and hands over the bag of goodies. jiwoong blankly looks in the bag, seeing an energy drink and snacks. “thank you.” he curtly says and gives a small smile to her, not wanting to be rude. the girl finally walks back to her friends who were hyping her up, and they watch as he heads over to you.

“hi, my love. i’m so glad you could come today.” he says as he grabs your hand and sits beside you. hao sees this as his queue to leave, and waves you both goodbye so he can find his own boyfriend. “i wouldn’t miss any of your games, even practice ones.” you say, as you use a towel to wipe the sweat off his face, neck, and arms. “hmm, you say that but you never attended any games until i invited you when we first started dating…” he says in a joking tone while pouting. you only smack him on the shoulder and laugh as a response. your hand makes its way into the bag the girl gave him, assuming he’d want to drink it. “didn’t you buy me any? why are you grabbing that one?” he asks you. “i did buy you some, but i assumed you’d want those because it’s in your favorite flavor.” he shakes his head in disagreement, and you look at him confused. “nuh uh, i want the one you bought please.” you just nod, and open up the drink before giving it to him.

as he chugs, your eyes can’t help but look at the girls— just now noticing that they’re still there. some of them seemed to be staring at you and jiwoong— particularly the one who gave him a drink. you saw the look of disappointment in her eyes, and you almost pity her. some are comforting her, while some stare daggers into you. you shift in your seat, not knowing that jiwoong’s finished his drink and followed where your eyes are. he sighs and puts his hand around your waist, before pulling you closer to his body. by this point the group of girls have already walked away, leaving you alone.

“don’t mind them, they aren’t important to us.” he says, and squeezes your hand. “honestly, i heard her squeal earlier. at first i turned my head because i thought it was you, and then i realized you wouldn’t squeal so loud like that.” he pauses, and the both of you chuckle before he continues. “when i saw it wasn’t you— i’ll admit, i was disappointed. i saw you with your head in your hands, and hao’s hands on your back. i realized you were probably not feeling comfortable around those girls, especially since they didn’t know we’re together. it’s okay to feel jealous, m’kay? to be honest, i get jealous when random dudes ask you for notes.” you look at him before speaking. “you’re right, i did feel quite jealous… i hated seeing her cheer for you and her friends talk to her as if she was dating you. i expected this to happen, but i didn’t expect myself to feel that way.”

jiwoong smiles at you and kisses you on the cheek. “thank you for being honest, i love you. i’m sorry i couldn’t tell them off. i wish i could.” you smile at him and shake your head. “no no, it’s not your fault. we can’t control people’s feelings. i love you too.” he cups your face with his hand and pecks your lip, and you both grin. “okay okay, now let me go you smell. go shower so we can get dinner!” you tell him, joking covering your nose. “hey! i don’t smell. and sure, let’s get samgyeopsal?” you nod, stomach now grumbling at the thought of delicious grilled pork belly. “yes, now hurry hurry! i’m hungry. where’s your keys? i wanna go to the car so i don’t have to wait here.” he hands you his keys, and heads to the showers.

you manage to get in and start the car, and get in the passenger side. you start to think of how lucky you got with your man, your heart feeling full and overwhelmed with love.

BONUS:

monday has arrived, and you’re waiting for your boyfriend to bring the bentos his mom promised to make. while you wait, the girl from the practice game and two of her friends sat in front of you. you’re confused. you didn’t think that they’d still approach you after what happened, so you ask what they were doing at your table. “we just wanted to know what you are to jiwoong. we never took him as the type to date nerds, so maybe we misinterpreted the situation from last week.” the girl’s friend asks you boldly. your eyebrows furrow, confused at her malicious attitude. “yes, i’m his girlfriend… so no, you didn’t misinterpret anything. we are dating.” you say, emphasizing the word ‘are.’ the girl’s other friend nods curtly before standing up and grabbing her hand. “okay. let us know when he breaks up with you.” she says smirking, about to turn around until they see jiwoong.

he’s standing with disapproval in his eyes, looking at the three girls. the girl in the middle— the one who liked your boyfriend, seems to be remorseful and embarrassed by her friends actions. her friends are shocked when jiwoong speaks up. “you’re gonna have to wait forever, because i’m not breaking up with her. stop harassing my girlfriend or i’ll tell your teachers.” he says and takes a seat in front of you, handing over your lunch.

as you finish lunch, you walk out of the cafeteria when you see the one who likes jiwoong standing anxiously, seemingly waiting for someone. when she sees you she approaches the two of you. “i-i’m really sorry for what my friends said, i tried to stop them but they were so persistent that i couldn’t. i didn’t expect them to be so cruel, i’m only new here and they’re the first group of people i met. i’m really sorry, i hope you two stay strong!” you smile at her apologetic attitude, and put a hand on her shoulder. “don’t worry, it’s okay. it’s not your fault that they’re such terrible people. you seem like a sweet girl— you should surround yourself with better people. have a nice day.” she smiles at you and jiwoong, saying ‘you too!’ and bowing before she walks away.

“poor girl, shitty friends and getting brutally rejected by her senior crush. all in 4 days!” you say, teasing jiwoong. he side eyes you before teasing you back. “hmm, should i not reject her then? do you think she likes choco milk?” he does a fake thinking pose before wincing, feeling your hand smack his back. “oi! don’t even think about it you football junkie! try it and you’ll be failing physics in your senior year!” you say, glaring at him.

“okay jeez! i was just joking…” he says pouting, murmuring the last part. you giggle as you both continue walking to your next class together, hand in hand.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Please.. Matthias smut, i’m starving there’s barely any content for him… I need him sexually pent up and sloppy ☝️😔

Heres so an unposted smut of him these are old

Rated: Mature | Warnings: reader is a simp for him and writer, jackmatt

Morning sex is rare especially when Matthias initiates it; between the two of you, you have the higher libido, and thus the one initiating— Matthias does not mind, given you are also willing to give a show when he is busy and pretending to be disinterested.

However, today he was very much in the mood the second he got you to wake up, his hands clingy and you far too eager to open your legs to him.

Most of the morning was spent between bedsheets constantly chasing ecstasy.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Asking after a nap and cleaning up.

“About what?” He is at his desk fixing up a wooden miniature basic puppet.

“This morning!” Wrapping your arms around his neck as you rest your chin on top of his head, “You were frantic.”

Mathias is quiet, “You noticed?” Stopping his tinkering, “I just felt the need is all.” Frowning then sighing, “I had a… dream.”

“Oh!?” Moving to sit on the bed when he turns his chair to face it.

“... You can't… Judge me.” Shy, “It was about the last match yesterday.”

You nod showing you are listening, “With Jack?”

“With Jack.” Going quiet as he looks conflicted to talk more.

“I once dreamt of a threesome with Orpheus and you.”

“What!?” Taken aback by your words.

You simply shrug, “I mean it's natural to dream about things. Sometimes naughty dreams too,” Leaning forward, “Fool’s Gold was my first one.” Whispering to him a dirty secret.

“What makes you think it was anything naughty? I could just say I was dreaming about the match—”

“Matthias,” Cutting him off, “You literally fucked me all morning. I'm sure you had a naughty dream about Jack.” Then you grin, “Was he hot?”

Matthias groans as he leans back against the chair with his hands covering his eyes, “Damn it… Yeah, that stupid rose one.”

“Yeah, that will do it.” Nodding your head sagely, “Hehe, congrats on the wet dream!”

“Please, must you tease?!” He pouted as he put his arms down and sat normally.

You move forward standing then bending over to kiss his cheek.

-----

The stack of papers is neat and bound together with a ribbon with a note on top: “Read only when I am busy and you are alone” with a heart drawing next to it.

It's one of your weird gifts again. It is as if all of your gifts are not put away safely as he treasures them. The Puppeteer sighs sitting on his bed as he looks through the stack of papers.

The title page Ink and Strings, you and your writings always have some creative title… The first actual page right away tells everything about this story you left for him.

The desk shifts with each thrust, the laboring breaths, and lips everywhere they can each before meeting. There I took all that I could. My body is aching for release but I am greedy, and wanting, and so is he.

Matthias reads on then stops when he sees…

Orpheus moves to accommodate. Matthias keeps me on the desk, caring for my comfort over caring if Orpheus can use my mouth. I know he would–

This is your dream! Written just for him to read and get off on if he wishes— He really hates how his cock is reacting to the details of your story, of the emotions clearly of love for him and lust for Orpheus. You only kiss Matthias, you only seek comfort in Matthias, and your needy begs are for Matthias. The rest, the lust is for Orpheus as if he is only there to indulge in curiosity.

Matthias uses his bare hand to get himself off, reading the story you wrote with laboring breaths.

-----

“This has to be inappropriate using your talents…” The Puppeteer says while on bed, sitting on bed with only his underlings on. His eyes looked to the side and down at the dark sheets. You giggle as he is clearly shy about this.

“I don't think so,” As you prepare your stack of fresh blank papers and pen in hand, “You are being my editor!” Pointing it out as if this is normal to do.

“No editor touches themselves to the piece they are editing.”

“Oh, Matthias, if my editor is not enthralled by my writing then I failed in capturing the essence of the scene.”

Matthias rolls his eyes, “Whatever.” He then looks at you, “So?”

“The chill of the snow map sends a shiver down your spine,” You say while writing, “Or perhaps it is the anticipation of danger as you rush off to find a cipher.” Your lover listens to your words to set up the fantasy, “The fog barely misses its target but it does. Giving time you vault through a window to escape out of the shack.”

Matthias leans back, closing his eyes picturing your words.

“Like a butterfly caught in the spider's web, he has you.” You hum then nod to yourself agreeing with that description, “Tall, menacing, the threat is right there,” Matthias frowns as knows that feeling, “One strike and you will be down on the ground painting the white snow red with your blood.” You stop then go on, “Yet, the strike never comes, the claws of his viciousness with twisted skill to cut and slice. His other hand grabs you, pinning you against the cold outer wall of the factory.”

Matthias shifts as you paint the picture with your words of a scenario he told you about. A dream that caused him to seek you out in the morning.

“His laugh is rich, gleeful as you do not fight back,” Matthias bites his lip, “Docile as you allow him to cut the fabric of your pants. The bit of the skin on your ass cut enough to bleed, you hiss in pain delighting him.”

“(Name).”

“Shh, we are getting to the good part!”

Matthias hates himself for getting hard, with each word creating this fuck up willing situation. To be taken by the sadistic hunter Jack. Worse is how you write, speaking it out, in character.

“You fear he going to rip you apart with how big his cock is,”

“Ah, ah.” Panting as he palms himself through his underlings.

“Oh, you feel each burning push of the monster's cock. Blood and spit do little as lube, not like he cares— And he knows you don't either as you push back. A harlot, he calls you with his heavy British accent.”

“Shut up.” As if replying to the Ripper.

“He laughs before impaling you completely. His clawed hand slams against the wall while his other hand grips your waist. Bruises will form later, a reminder of this deed.”

Matthias by now has pulled out his cock, fisting his cock as he is getting off this.