#watching your pay shrink week to week

[theraisinbran]

Yeah, as much as I don't want to diminish how much the pandemic sucked for everyone, it left a bad taste in my mouth seeing others being able to experience some freedom. I work in a grocery store and for the first 4 or so months of the pandemic, it was absolute chaos. 14+ hour days, 6 day weeks, the constant pull of trying to keep product on the shelves for customers and getting things in that they needed. We were called "essential" just to have customers complain and bitch at us for not getting things in they wanted or being asked to wear a mask. I don't think most of us have fully unpacked the trauma and exhaustion we all felt in our little corner of the world that the pandemic created in those days.

[httpknjoon]

have you ever tried this one? | myg

plot | that time popstar!yn and bassist!yoongi had a very *intense* staring contest throughout the whole concert.

w.c | 1581

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff (?), enemies to lovers

note | it's juno so.... 🥵

main masterlist

DAY 53 of Love Is... On Tour

Another day, another reason to fight over something.

Cute. For someone who looks tiny in their oversized sweatshirt, you sure do hold a lot of power over a lot of people, Yoongi thought. Just a lift of your finger while you were singing could mean something. Maybe you want to change the tempo or you want to improve something. He can see gears working in your head while you sing the lyrics of your songs. It's crazy how your mind and body coordinate well while focusing on different things. Your fingers rhythmically tap on your thigh, following the beats. Yoongi strummed on his guitar while watching you sing in front of the band, waiting for any signal.

"And I heard you're- Wait, wait, wait. Let's pause."

Just three songs left during the rehearsals, you raised your right hand, making the band stop from playing. Instantly when the music stopped, your eyes directly met Yoongi's.

"Can you please quit staring at me," you said, annoyed.

Yoongi looked around to make sure that you were talking to him. But he was met with his bandmates looking back at him, confirming that yes, you were talking to him.

His eyebrows raised, "Me?"

"Yes, you are literally throwing daggers on my way ever since I stood here." you confronted him.

"I am not." he denied. Was he looking at you? Yes. But is he throwing daggers? Definitely not.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. You swore you could feel his intense eyes on you in every movement you make. Every time your eyes land in his direction, you immediately find him looking back at your fingers, your thighs, or just you. Sometimes you would notice a small quirk in his lips while staring at you. But most times, he has this blank space on his face, making you want to shrink in your comfy sweatshirt.

"You do it every rehearsal! It's weird." you insisted.

The people around you— Art, Cal, the other band members, and a few of your dancers— simply looked at each other. It's been weeks of you two working together and bickering over things. Everyone knows you hate each other's guts. At this point, you are just kids with these "fights".

You see Yoongi chuckled, putting a hand on his hip, "I'm just paying attention, waiting for your hand cues. It's something musicians usually do when rehearsing with the band."

Okay, that's reasonable— But still! You felt blood rushing to your cheeks but your jaw clenched. Because of course, the sarcasm in Yoongi's defense didn't go over your head. You were about to refute when Art clapped his hands together, signaling a time-out.

"Okay, please stop with this. We only have a few songs left and everyone deserves to rest before the show." he reminded you and your bassist. "Yoongi, please avoid looking at YN. YN just be clear with your signals. Raise your hand or something. Are we cool with that? YN? Yoongi?"

Yoongi sighed but nodded his head. Before nodding your head, you still caught that smirk that formed on his lips. The rehearsals continued as planned. Yoongi barely looked at you anymore and looked down at his red guitar instead, giving all of his attention to it. You don't know if he's being sarcastic. But you kept on biting your cheeks when you found him in the same position every time you looked at him again. Fuck, he's really not looking, huh?

You continued singing for a few more minutes, sipping water in between. You never raised your hand again for any cues.

"Okay, please enjoy your break. Thank you, everyone." Art said before letting everyone go.

You were walking behind Cal, on the way to your dressing room, when you felt someone following behind you.

"I didn't know you were a diva like that," Yoongi whispered.

His warm breath fanned your ear in that quick sentence, making you ignore the shiver you felt by his warmth and surprise appearance. He didn't even wait for you to look back and reply. Instead, he walked passed you and caught up with his band members outside the arena.

Now, someone's throwing daggers.

Minutes before the show, in the crowded backstage, Yoongi can feel your eyes drilling holes at him while Paul fixes his shirt for him. You were already dressed up and someone is just fixing your in-ear for you. You stood six feet away from each other but managed to have a quiet, petty argument. He stared back at you, raising an eyebrow. You squinted your eyes before rolling it.

I hate you, you mouthed.

He mouthed back, Diva.

Although you find one of the people on stage annoying, you don't let it affect your performance for the night. But you're petty and so is your bassist. At every chance you two get, you look at Yoongi and you always find him staring back at you even while strumming his guitar.

Some fans noticed it and began posting about it online, noting the chemistry between your eyes. Even the crew members felt awkward with how you and Yoongi always caught each other's strong gaze.

"What the fuck is happening between you two?!" a voice in your in-ear asked while you were hurriedly changing your clothes for your next song.

You didn't have time to reply with that one and just continued the show with a new plan in your head.

"Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing. Oh yeah, you just get it..."

After arresting one of your cute audience members and tossing them their fuzzy pink handcuffs, you began singing one of your hit songs. You are now in your sparkling, red bodysuit that goes with a mini skirt at its ends. It used to have a longer skirt but it got shorter after the bit earlier. You also have your matching boots with you that make you taller than ever.

"Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit. God bless your dad's genetics..."

Your staring contest with your bassist is still going on. And if you stop to do one of your choreographed dances, your eyes occasionally focus on Yoongi.

"Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs? Oh, I hear you knockin', baby..."

The fans cheered when the screen showed him, who was trying to stop himself from smiling while looking at you.

"I know you want my touch for life. If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno..."

At the end of the chorus, you still manage to continue your starting battle with Yoongi since you are walking around the stage. The only time you looked away was when another voice spoke,

"YN, if you want to continue your staring competition with Yoongi, can you just stand next to him? It's hard for the camera to catch you when you keep turning your head in his direction." the voice said, obviously giving up on telling you to stop whatever you and Yoongi are doing.

"You make me wanna make you fall in love. Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah, ah, ah..."

You followed what you were told and stood next to him as you two looked at each other's eyes. You were pointing your finger at him as if you were singing those words to him.

"Wanna try out some freaky positions?"

A line before the infamous part of the performance, you stood in front of your bassist. Your back is to the audience, who is already losing their mind on what they are witnessing. You kept eye contact with him as you felt excitement fluttering in your chest.

"Have you ever tried this one?"

A smirk forms on your lips before squatting down and bouncing up and down, like you were riding an imaginary dick. The fans are livid, the rest of the band is laughing, and Yoongi is lost for a second, unconsciously biting his lower lip while still exchanging intense eye contact with you. You winked coyly before getting up and turning around to resume.

"I know you want my touch for life. If you love me right, then who knows?..."

Although dumbfounded for what felt like a minute, Yoongi still played his bass guitar perfectly. As soon as the chorus was done, you reached for Yoongi's chin and made him look at you.

"Adore me, hold me, and explore me. Mark your territory. Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one..."

With your angelic voice and pretty face in front of you, Yoongi just lost the game. He studied your eyes, then your nose, down to your lips that's saying those words to him. He is like under control by your angelic appearance. Suddenly, you don't mind him staring intensely and closely at you. Closer than the rehearsals earlier.

"Adore me, hold me, and explore me, I'm so fucking horny. Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one..."

If you hadn't gently pinched his chin during that line, Yoongi would have just lost it and forgotten that you two are in front of 35,000 thousand people.

Just before the last chorus, you let go of him and ran back to the center stage and danced while he played the riff. He watched behind you, and stared for a few more seconds, before shaking his head, enjoying the music the same way you do.

"You make me wanna make you fall in love!"

note | haha petty people

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21

[heich0e]

"we're having a costume party at school next week!"

sukuna's only acknowledgement of his nephew's words is that half hum/half grunt sound he makes so often—the one that always seems mostly involuntary and entirely disinterested. to the uninitiated, it might come across as dismissive, but thankfully, having spent his entire life around his uncle, yuuji's fluent enough in his unspoken language to interpret the meaning behind the man's sounds without needing him to elaborate.

"yup!" he continues. "will jichan help me pick my costume?" 

sukuna looks over at his nephew, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen of his phone. 

"me?" he asks with a quirk of his brow. 

yuuji is on the other side of the low table at the centre of the living room, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet in excitement with his two little hands pressed against the table top where his colouring pages and markers sit abandoned.

"yeah! i gotta pick a good one." yuuji nods enthusiastically. 

sukuna breathes a short breath out through his nose, but yuuji understands that, too—the sound of his beloved uncle conceding, if not outright agreement to his demands. 

"well i'm not paying for any costume, so your dad better be ready to cough up some cash," sukuna says, slumping back against the sofa behind him and stretching his sock-clad feet out under the kotatsu. "what are your ideas so far?" 

"dunno!" yuuji comes bounding around to his side of the table, clambering into his uncle's lap and settling in there. 

"why don't you just dress up like a tiger cub again?" sukuna asks, shifting to accommodate the squirming brat now trying to make himself comfortable atop him. 

yuuji purses his lips like he's thinking about it. "papa said so too."

yuuji's dressed up like a tiger cub almost every year since he was born (sukuna has many, many photos on his phone to prove it.) it's tried and true. both itadori brothers are decidedly weak to the little boy dressed with fluffy ears and a little tail. it must be genetic. 

"but kugisaki said she's dressing up like a cat, so nobody else is allowed to," yuuji adds after a moment of contemplation. 

sukuna's met yuuji's school friend kugisaki nobara once or twice when picking his nephew up from school, or dropping him off at play dates on the weekend. the kid's a tyrant. 

"off limits then," sukuna says—a bit resentfully, since he won't have another series of photos to add to his phone camera's gallery this year. "so what else?" 

"hmmmm," yuuji holds his little chin in his hand as though deep in thought. "what about a ghost?"

"boring," sukuna replies immediately. 

"a dog?"

"that's too close to a cat," the man shoots that down just as quickly as the first one. “your bossy little friend won’t like that.”

yuuji nods sagely in agreement and then tries again.  “how ‘bout a police officer?" 

"cops are losers, brat," sukuna says, suddenly stern. he points at him to add emphasis. "they're not your friends and we don't trust 'em."

yuuji's lips form a little 'o'.

"papa says—"

"your dad's a square, don't listen to him," sukuns lifts the hand that had been pointing at his nephew’s chest and flicks him lightly on the forehead. he yelps in complaint.

"if the police is bad then who do i call if i'm in trouble?" yuuji asks through a pout, rubbing the spot between his brows his uncle had just hit.

"me, obviously," the older man answers without missing a beat.

"oh," yuuji says, his expression evening out again as he acceptis this answer simply. “’kay!"

“so what else is there?” sukuna rubs his chin thoughtfully as he reflects on yuujii’s options. kids’ costumes are—decidedly—not really his area of expertise. in fact, the images that come to mind when he thinks of costumes should really not even be mentioned in the same sentence as children.

“i gotta be something cool,” yuuji insists, watching his uncle think. 

“yeah, yeah,” sukuna grunts. “what about somethin’ scary?” 

yuuji shrinks into himself a little. “i don’t like scary stuff.”

 “don’t be a wimp,” sukuna teases him, but he holds the kid a little tighter and doesn’t bring it up again. there’s a black marker on the living room floor by his thigh, with the word WASHABLE printed in thick block letters along the side. sukuna picks it up, tapping it against the ground as he contemplates his options while his nephew does the same. 

tap, tap, tap.

“what about a pumpkin?” 

“lame. what about a demon?”

“demons are scary, jicha—“

“yeah, yeah.” 

sukuna tosses his head back to rest against the sofa cushions, an arm slung across his eyes. 

when he opens them again, inspecting his own forearm, he suddenly has an idea.

(when jin comes home from work, he finds his little brother and his son shirtless in the living room—one inked in tattoos, and one sporting a crude approximation of the same tattoos scrawled in washable marker. jin freezes in confusion at the sight. 

“papa, i’m jichan!” yuuji beams proudly up at his father, arms outstretched in display. jin’s eyes turn next to his brother, who’s looking particularly smug.

“kid said he wanted a cool costume,” he shrugs. 

yuuji goes as a tiger cub again that year.)

[archangeldyke-all]

I’m BEGGING for angst to fluff to casual by Chappell with Sevika

I’m PLEADING for “working opening shifts/weekday shifts when Sevika doesn’t come in at the last drop” to Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers and reader falls in love with Sevika once they finally meet. (I will physically pay you for this one xx)

ohhhh my gosh the phoebe one..... holy shit...

listen to punisher here

men and minors dni

i love a good place to hide in plain sight...

you're one of the most popular nameless faces in zaun.

you know the name of every of the last drop's regular customers. you overhear gossip and plans and drama about some of the biggest people in the city. the liquor you slide across the bar for a living makes everybody's lips loose, and you know more secrets than any one person should know.

but nobody knows your name.

customers call theiram 'chuck.'

they call you 'doll.'

you don't mind it. knowing how to go unnoticed, how to keep your head down-- that's what's kept you alive this long in zaun.

but it gets lonely.

when there's a birthday at the bar, you're the one to pass out party hats and pull out the sparklers. last year, you ate a cupcake alone on your front porch to celebrate your own.

when you bump into strangers on the street on your walks home, you apologize with a duck of your head. it's either your familiar face and the fact that you pour their drinks; or the meek way you shrink in on yourself-- but they let you go each time.

when you clock out, if you're lucky, you'll time your leaving to overlap with sevika's arrival. and, for just a moment, you can pretend that she knows you as well as you know her.

what if i told you i feel like i know you?

you've known sevika your whole life.

you're certain she doesn't recall, but when you were children, sevika caught you shivering and cold-- the cardboard box you were living in soaked through with rain. she lent you a jacket and all the pocket change she had. she even smiled at you.

you were a barback when she was running with vander. you were there when she turned her back on the man-- when she chose her city over her friend.

you were there to watch her deteriorate under silco's employ. first her arm, then the various beatings she'd be doled each month, then the arrival of the dark bags under her eyes.

on occasion, she'll get belligerently drunk, loitering at the bar far after close, there to greet you when you open again the next day. on these days, you're the one to give her a glass of water and walk her home safely. her home is always a mess. the star patterned blanket you pull over her shoulders is so old it must be from her childhood.

but we never met...

silco dies, and everything goes to shit.

there's a week there where you're too busy avoiding the grey to worry about work.

and then there's the war.

and then...

the last drop is just a pile of rubble. jinx and isha are just as dead as the bar. and sevika is named ambassador.

here everyone knows you're the way to my heart. hear so many stories of you at the bar. most times alone, and some looking your worst. but never not sweet to the trust funds and punishers...

ran and thieram rebuild the bar. they offer you a job. you're right back where you've always been-- standing behind a bar and eavesdropping on people with real lives.

from time to time, you'll hear about sevika.

sevika, who's lost everything. sevika, who lives in piltover now. the thought makes you snort-- you can only imagine the glare permanently imprinted on her face now.

sevika starts welfare programs for zaun, slowly but surely. schools open, widows and orphans are paid, and more bridges start being built across the river.

sevika doesn't smoke. sevika doesn't drink. she quit for a girl who's dead now. but occasionally you'll hear that she's been sulking around piltoverian bars, nursing a fizzy juice and looking haunted.

you'll hear that she doesn't scowl at people who approach her anymore, instead, she signs pictures of herself with a resigned smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

you'll hear rumors that ambassador sevika can sometimes be heard quietly crying from her office.

sometimes, you'll walk by her old apartment. you wonder who lives there now. you wonder if she remembers those walks, if she remembers you.

you know she doesn't.

still, it doesn't stop you from crying for her.

i can't open my mouth and forget how to talk, 'cause even if i could i wouldn't know where to start, wouldn't know when to stop.

sevika's all alone in piltover and you're all alone in zaun. you wish you'd said something to her but you don't know when you could've.

maybe when you were kids, though you didn't know you were in love with her then.

maybe when you were strangers, though she would've simply laughed at your words.

maybe before she left zaun, though it happened so fucking fast.

you trail down the winding streets of the city she built, sipping on a bottle of her favorite whiskey, crying for her. for how lonely she must be. for how much she lost. you find yourself in front of her old home, like your feet have a mind of their own.

for a moment, you let yourself close your eyes and pretend that you're walking her home again. the woman you've loved your whole life-- the woman who doesn't know your name. you imagine the drunken slur of her voice, the stumble of her mis-matched boots, the warmth of her arm around your shoulders.

"dollface?" someone asks. your eyes fly open, and you blink at the woman in front of you. "what're you doin' here?"

sevika's wearing pajamas, her hair's a mess. she's got sand in her eyes that she's rubbing gently as she examines you from her front stoop.

you blink then stumble forward, reaching a shaky hand out to grab sevika's shoulder. she's real, solid and warm under your grasp. you gasp.

"have you been crying?" sevika whispers, her voice soft, her touch even softer as she reaches up to cup your cheeks.

there are a million things you want to say. i love you. i miss you. i am so sorry for you. for what happened to you. what are you doing here, don't you live in piltover? you look so tired. let me hold you, just for a day? let me tell you every single thing i love about you, i've got a list that's thirty years in the making. do you know who i am? do you know my real name? do you remember the nights you'd walk home with me under your arm? do you know those were the best nights of my life? do you remember when we were kids and you lent me your jacket? do you know i still sleep with it under my pillow?

but sevika's time with the pilties must've really softened her up, because instead of telling you to scram or spit it out, sevika reaches forward and pulls you in for a hug. "it's good to see you." she whispers against your shoulder.

you sob as you cling to her.

you don't think you'll ever stop crying.

you don't think you'll ever let go.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

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@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 18

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: Triggering conversation. Mentioned about sexual assault.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Author Note: After this, you will hate Steve more.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The news spread like wildfire: The First Lady has passed away from a sudden heart attack. The entire nation reeled at the announcement. It was a tragic day for the country, and the collective grief was palpable. You and Bucky struggled to believe it, exchanging shocked glances as you watched the news unfold on screen.

The twins, pale with grief, approached their father with questions in their eyes. “Why, a heart attack?” one of them whispered.

Steve’s expression was controlled, his answer calm. “Because with that, everyone will stop asking,” he replied. A sudden heart attack is understandable. Even General Carter died of one.

Just as Steve had predicted, people accepted it readily. “A heart attack? That’s horrible,” they’d say, before letting the matter rest. It was as if the finality of the explanation sealed Peggy’s fate in a way no one dared to question. And yet, to you, something felt out of place.

Only two weeks earlier, there had been news that Peggy had collapsed, and the doctors advised her to rest. You found yourself shaking your head as you spoke to Bucky. “She was so healthy, so careful with her lifestyle. Doesn’t it feel… odd?”

Bucky’s gaze was hard, thoughtful. “It does,” he admitted. “It really does.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The day of Peggy’s funeral arrived, a somber, overcast morning where gray clouds seemed to hang like a veil over the city. Dressed in black, the crowd of mourners filled the space around the somber cemetery, their faces etched with grief and disbelief. The country mourned the First Lady’s loss, and people lined up to pay their respects to Steve and the grieving family. You and Bucky observed from a distance, your expressions reflecting both sorrow and skepticism.

Caroline and Julius were also present, looking somber as they approached Hazel and Julius, standing silently nearby. Carol, her face set in sadness, touched Hazel’s arm gently. “Let’s go give Steve our condolences,” she whispered.

“You two go ahead,” Hazel murmured, looking away. Her eyes shifted, and a shadow of guilt crossed her face. She couldn’t bear to look at Peggy’s sons, William and Charles, standing on either side of their father, too young to fully understand the depths of their loss.

Carol frowned. “Hazel, don’t be stubborn,” she said softly. “Come on, Julius.” The two of them moved toward Steve, leaving Hazel standing there with her head bowed, biting her lip.

Julius, his voice low and respectful, extended his hand to Steve. “We’re deeply sorry, Steve. Peggy was a remarkable woman.”

Carol echoed his sentiments. “Yes, Steve. She’ll be missed so much. Our hearts are with you and the boys.”

Steve nodded, his face a well-practiced mask of grief. “Thank you both. Peggy loved you both very much.”

As the guests continued offering their sympathies, Natasha appeared at Hazel’s side, touching her arm and gesturing discreetly. Hazel hesitated but glanced over, catching your eye. You nudged Bucky, motioning in Hazel’s direction, but he shook his head. “Let them go,” he said quietly. “Not here, not now.”

Following Natasha, Hazel found herself being led to a private corner, away from the public’s eyes. Steve was already waiting, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. As Hazel approached, she looked pale, her posture small, as though she wanted to shrink away.

“Why do you look like you want to hide?” Steve asked, arching an eyebrow, his voice a low murmur.

Without a word, Hazel handed him her phone. Her hands were shaking. Steve took the device and glanced at the screen. What he read there made his expression falter, if only for a moment. The message on the screen was Peggy’s final words:

"I’ll give him to you. But know that each time you’re with him, I will always be the thorn between you two."

Hazel’s voice trembled as she spoke. “I found this after she…after she died. She sent it before… God, Steve, she’s gone because of me.”

Steve stepped forward, gently placing his hand at the back of her neck, pulling her head to his shoulder. “No, Hazel,” he murmured, his voice smooth and unyielding. “None of us lifted a finger. It was her choice. Her own doing.”

Steve held her tightly. “You’re my only anchor now,” he said softly, his hand stroking her hair. His tone was oddly calm, as if nothing truly rattled him.

Hazel gave a slight nod, though her face remained haunted. Steve’s grip around her tightened, but his gaze held a glint of satisfaction, a twisted sense of relief. Peggy’s demise, as he saw it, had finally cleared the way.

Later, as guests continued offering their condolences, Bucky made his way to Steve. His handshake was firm, his voice steady. “Steve,” he said, his eyes meeting his in an unreadable gaze. “My deepest condolences. Peggy was… well, she was a force.”

Steve’s expression was solemn, though his eyes glinted with something inscrutable. “Thank you, Bucky,” he replied smoothly. “I know Peggy always respected you.”

Bucky paused, holding Steve’s gaze a second longer, as if searching for something beneath his composed exterior. “If there’s anything you or the boys need, don’t hesitate to let us know. We’re here for you.”

Steve gave a small nod. “I appreciate it, Bucky. Really. This will be hard for the boys, but we’ll get through it.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened as he stepped back, his gaze never leaving Steve’s. “Take care of yourself. And of them.” He glanced briefly toward William and Charles, whose solemn faces seemed carved in stone, their small hands clutching each other as they mourned.

When Bucky returned to your side, he was silent, his eyes hard with an unspoken realization. Both of you had been deceived by Steve’s flawless facade for years, but now, something dark and undeniable seemed to lie beneath.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Three Weeks Later

Carol sat on the sofa, her eyes fixed on the TV screen where Steve’s face appeared at an international summit, calm and composed, every bit the statesman. She frowned, resting her chin on her hand. “It’s not even a month since Peggy’s passing, and already there’s talk about him looking for a new partner,” she muttered with a casual nonchalance. “Should I introduce him to one of my friends?”

Julius, seated across from her, snapped his head up, a look of disbelief etched onto his face. “Carol… you were Peggy’s friend. How can you talk like this?”

“Because I was her friend, I want what’s best for Steve,” Carol replied, dismissively scrolling through photos on her phone. “Peggy would want someone from our circle by his side, someone appropriate. Maybe Emily? Or Kelly?”

From across the room, Hazel’s voice interrupted, quiet but firm. “Mom, you don’t have to go through all that trouble.”

Carol looked up, her eyes sharp. “Oh, but I insist,” she said with a sigh of self-importance. “Steve’s in his prime. Women would kill to be with him. Even women your age, Hazel.”

Hazel paused, her teacup clinking against its saucer as her hand trembled slightly.

Carol turned to Julius with newfound excitement. “Maybe we should introduce him to your cousin who just got divorced. She’s still young, and she can bear children—Peggy would approve of someone in our league taking her place. Steve has a mistress. I don't want that woman took Peggy's place.”

"Carol. Stop," Julius said, his voice sharp, cutting through his wife rambling.

A flicker of annoyance sparking in her eyes. “What? Imagine having someone actually related to the President by blood," she insisted, folding her arms, her tone dismissive as if Julius didn’t understand the gravity of her idea.

Julius took a step closer, his face tightening. "We already have," he replied quietly.

Carol looked at him in disbelief, then scoffed. “I don’t mean Bucky," she shot back, waving a hand as if the idea were absurd. "He's still just the Vice President. And I don't even want to think about him having kids with that woman.”

Julius’s expression darkened, his jaw clenched as he leaned closer. "He won’t forgive you if he hears that," he warned, voice low and tight, the threat clear. He knew how much Bucky loves you, even Bucky already gave a warning to Caroline, she still won't accept it.

She felt the heat of his words but only tilted her chin up defiantly. Julius took a deep breath, struggling to contain his frustration. "Carol," he said in a grave tone, “I’m giving you a warning. This is the last time." His hand closed into a fist, and the silence that followed was thick, crackling with unspoken tension.

“Mom. You can stop now,” she said, her voice edged with a firmness that made both her parents turn. “There’s already someone from our family related to the president”

The room fell silent. Carol’s fingers froze on her phone, and Julius looked up from his drink, confused. Hazel met their eyes steadily.

“Nate,” she said, her voice just above a whisper, yet each word felt as though it struck with the force of a hammer. “Steve is Nate’s father.”

There was a stunned pause, a dead silence before Carol’s phone slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a loud clatter. Her face turned pale as her mind scrambled to process the revelation, her hand covering her mouth in shock.

“All this time,” Hazel continued, her voice quiet but steady, “you wanted to know who Nate’s father was. Now you know.”

Carol’s face twisted, disbelief transforming into a horrified expression. She lunged forward, gripping Hazel’s shoulders tightly, her nails digging in. “Tell me this is a joke,” she hissed.

“You… you always kept things to yourself, dropping these bombshells when we least expect it. You came home one day, huge belly, and just announced you were pregnant, like it was nothing.” Her voice wavered, a mixture of anger and desperation. “You made me hide my face from our friends, miss every gathering because of you!”

Hazel stayed silent, even as her mother’s words lashed against her.

“Haze—Hazel,” Julius interjected, his voice a strained whisper, barely able to meet her eyes. “Is this true?”

She nodded. “Yes, father.”

“But why him? Of all people… what could he possibly give you that we haven’t?” Carol’s voice quivered, the shock laced with bitterness.

Hazel met her mother’s eyes, unflinching. “Because he listened to me. He understood me.”

Julius’s face hardened. “We gave you everything, Hazel. How can you say that?”

She drew in a breath, her expression bitter. “That’s the problem. You gave me everything I never asked for. All I ever asked is for both of you as my parents to listened to me.”

Carol scoffed, her face paling as realization settled in. “Listening?” she muttered, rubbing her forehead as if it hurt. “You keep talking about that. I don’t even know what you mean.”

Hazel’s hands trembled slightly, but she steadied herself, her tone cold. “Do you remember when I told you my ballet teacher kept touching me? That’s why I quit. But you didn’t believe me because he was ‘experienced,’ and you said I was overreacting.”

A silence so heavy settled in the room that even the ticking clock seemed deafening. Carol’s face twisted with a fleeting look of guilt, but it passed quickly.

Hazel’s gaze shifted to Julius. “And you—do you remember when I told you I was drugged by your best friend’s son at that party I didn’t even want to go to? You made me go. I came home, barely able to stand…” Her voice broke, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Julius covered his face with his hand, his shoulders slumping as the reality crashed down on him.

“I am your daughter!” she yelled, the hurt and anger of years pouring out. “And all you did was listen to their excuses. That was my breaking point. That’s why I left.”

Julius’s face fell, and he murmured, almost to himself, “Then… you met Steve.”

Hazel nodded, her voice softening slightly. “I was vulnerable. And after hearing me out just once, do you know what he did?” She looked at her parents, her gaze hard and unwavering. “He made sure that ballet teacher never danced again. And that boy? He’ll never see daylight without a drug in his system.”

Carol heard the news that the former ballet teacher got into an accident, leaving him unable to move his fingers or toes. As for Julius, he heard from his friend that the son ended up in rehab. His case is worse than Shawn's.

Carol gasped, horror dawning in her eyes. “You’re the woman Peggy mentioned. The mistress…”

Hazel’s voice was a whisper, calm yet unyielding. “Yes. I’m the other woman. The homewrecker. Whatever you want to call me, I am it.”

For a moment, a heavy silence settled in the room. Hazel scoffed, looking from her mother to her father. “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? Your grandson is the President’s son, your son the youngest Vice President. Now you can tell that to all your friends.” She shot them a hollow, bitter smile, watching as her words landed. Carol looked down, her face flushed with shame, while Julius couldn’t bear to meet her gaze.

Turning, Hazel strode from the room, leaving her parents in stunned silence. For the first time, the weight of Peggy’s suicide note no longer haunted her. Steve had been right. Peggy’s death wasn’t her burden to bear. And with that realization, she walked away, shoulders straight, head held high.

In the deafening quiet that followed, Caroline sank onto the couch, feeling a mix of shame and a deep, gnawing guilt. She was beginning to understand. All those times she had cursed the “mistress” Peggy hinted at… it had been her own daughter.

“Julius,” she whispered, voice cracking as she reached out for her husband’s hand.

But there was no answer. Julius sat, staring into space, his face ashen. When she touched his shoulder, his body slumped.

“Julius!” she screamed, shaking him, but he didn’t respond. Her world spun as panic surged, echoing her daughter’s revelation with one devastating blow after another.

Julius suffered a stroke and required emergency surgery, leaving the family on edge as they gathered at the hospital. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a harsh glow over the sterile waiting room. You and Bucky arrived, and he turned to you, his brow furrowed with concern. “Where’s Hazel?” he asked, scanning the area for any sign of her.

“Don’t. Mention that name,” Caroline snapped, her voice taut with tension. “That girl has ruined Peggy’s marriage.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You knew?” he pressed, the shock evident in his tone.

Caroline's eyes flared, realization dawning on her. “Wait! You knew all this time?” She stepped forward, her hands gripping his collar, her fury palpable. The Secret Service agents on standby instinctively moved closer, but Bucky raised a hand, stopping them. “Stand outside. This is a family matter, and keep this secret,” he commanded. They nodded reluctantly, stepping away but keeping their ears perked for any sign of trouble.

“No wonder why Steve chose us,” Caroline sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of the situation settled in. “But I still can’t accept this. No, I don’t. He used Hazel's innocence.” Her laughter was manic, echoing off the walls, a bitter sound that filled the room.

“Does he think he can underestimate me? He’s just a nobody without a strong background. He’s nothing without the Carters.” Caroline’s voice dripped with disdain as she spat the words, but when she noticed Bucky’s silence, her eyes narrowed.

“You have a plan, don’t you?”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “I do.”

“Good. Me too,” Caroline replied, her tone fierce. “I won’t accept being humiliated.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bucky turned his gaze to you, his expression shifting from determination to concern. “Dear,” he said, his voice steady but laced with urgency.

“Hmm?” you replied, sensing the gravity in his tone.

“I’m telling you right now,” he began, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, “from this moment, everything is going to turn ugly. You might end up hating me in the end.”

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten. Why is he telling me this?

“I told you before, you could stab me, poison me,” he continued, his voice unwavering. “I meant it. You could do it when you felt that I was way out of line.”

He’s serious, you thought, a mix of fear and disbelief coursing through you.

“You should’ve said this before I married into the Barnes family,” you shot back, your tone sharper than intended, but the weight of his words hung heavily in the air between you.

Bucky’s eyes softened slightly, yet his resolve remained. “I never wanted you to be caught in the crossfire.”

His jaw tense, and he took a deep breath as if preparing for the weight of the world. “If this is too much for you,” he said, his voice steady but low, “you could leave.” Also, the one-year agreement to help him is coming to an end.

The finality of his words struck you like a punch to the gut, and you felt a flicker of panic surge through you. “No. I won’t leave,” you responded fiercely, the conviction in your voice surprising even yourself.

Bucky’s brow furrowed, and he studied you, as if searching for signs of doubt in your eyes. But all he found was unwavering resolve. “You really mean that?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper, a blend of surprise and hope.

You nodded, a small smile breaking through the tension. “The first time, it was me helping you become vice president,” you reminded him, your heart racing with the unspoken promise that lingered between you. “Now, I’ll be beside you as you become president. I won’t let this position slip away to another woman.”

“Then let’s face this together,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. The space between you charged with anticipation, every unspoken feeling bubbling to the surface. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

A slow smile spread across Bucky’s face, warmth radiating from him. The tension that had permeated the air shifted into something different—something electric. In that moment, the world around you faded, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable connection you shared.

Bucky leaned in slightly, closing the distance between you, and your breaths mingled in the charged space. The weight of your words hung in the air, promising both conflict and a shared future. You reached out, your fingers grazing his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin under your touch.

He moved closer, tilting his head slightly as if to capture the moment forever. The longing that had been building between you ignited, and without thinking, you both closed the gap.

The kiss was genuine, filled with unspoken promises and a shared understanding of the battles ahead. It was tender yet passionate, a release of the tension that had held you both captive for far too long. As your lips met, time seemed to stand still, the world outside forgotten. In that moment, you were not just allies in a political game but partners, united in a bond deeper than either of you had anticipated.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling in the charged air. You could see the reflection of hope and determination in his eyes, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you could face whatever challenges lay ahead—together.

Author Note : The next chapter will be the end.

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[komelliko]

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader (now with aventurine!)

summary: Days after the dinner with Sunday, Aventurine decides to check in on you for his own reasons. wc: 1k part 3 (nsfw) / part 4 / part 5

---

"Hey! How's it going, doll?"

"—Venny!"

Aventurine strode over, swinging a watch chain idly in his hands. Whatever hung from its ends was far too small to be a conventional pocketwatch from the way he twisted it between his fingers, but the circular case was still rather ornately decorated. Of course, it only made sense that a man like Aventurine would be dripping in gold, useful items or otherwise.

"Has Feather-head been sending you all over the place again?" Aventurine asked. "Come on, I can get being a busybody here and there, but you really overdo it sometimes."

You laugh, shrinking into yourself a little. "Oh, a job's a job..." you digress. He raises his brows, accepting your statement but not entirely convinced. The way he props his arm up on the nearby table almost makes it seem like he's hovering over you a little. ...But there's something friendly in his eyes, so you pay it no mind.

"Say, I wouldn't mind taking you out for a drink or two one of these days. If there's a single person in Penacony who needs it, it'd be you. Aeons know I've got money to spend."

You chuckle, eyes still timidly askance. "Don't trouble yourself with me, Venny. I'm sure you've got much better things to do." "I'm being' square with you, babe, believe me!" He laughs. "I wanna hear all about what that boss of yours is putting you through. You can vent to a friend, can't you, doll?" Perhaps the fact that your face drops gives a little too much away. Now you're looking away to hide the blush on your face, mortified with yourself. "He's not as bad as you'd think," you stammer through your teeth. "Honestly, he probably thinks I work too much." It's not as if it technically isn't true. Sunday's flippancy over dinner all those days ago made that much clear. "Then he's got no right to balk about you taking the day off, now does he?" You sigh, rolling your eyes. "You know what, sure," you smile. "Let me get everything put back in my office, and I'll meet you somewhere." Aventurine clicks his teeth, shooting finger guns at you before the two of you part ways.

... ... ... ...

When you usually open the door to your office, you tend to close it behind you in a very deliberate way, keeping your back pressed up against the door. It's not as if you enjoy the little cage (that's often what it feels like, with the columns of gold that run up the walls across the floor to meet in the center), but it serves its purpose. It keeps your papers in, and it keeps the world out.

Usually. "Mister Sunday?" You've never seen Sunday move as fast as he does when he stands up from opening the drawers in your desk. It's almost uncanny watching his face as he's caught off his guard for the slightest moment, almost staring in wonder at you standing there. "[Y/N]," he marvels. "What a surprise." You should be asking what he's doing there, and furthermore why he needed to be going through your desk to do it... But Sunday was your boss. All of the papers in there were going to be sent to him anyways, and that's all you have in the desk—papers, stamps, official stationery. You'd heard of some that would fill their desk drawers with more personal items, but that had never been your style. "I was just looking for you, sir," you lie, hanging up your bag on the coat rack by the door. "I was going the ask for the rest of the day off." Sunday lights up. Clearly he'd gotten through to you the other night, he reasons. You had always been oh so very shy about your affections towards him, he was sure of it—So how else would you ask for more time with him than to ask it like this? "Of course, dear," Sunday smiles. "You've worked so hard this past week, you only deserve some time to yourself. You can have the rest of the week off if you'd like that as well." Surprised, your eyes widen at the offer. "That's quite generous of you, Mr. Sunday. I don't think that's necessary." "Please, dear, anything for you. Would you like me to escort you home? So you can spend the rest of your week at ease, that is." Your eye contact with him breaks, and you can't shake the notion that you're breaking some unspoken, un-agreed-upon contract when you say: "Actually, I'm meeting with a friend, so there's no need." If you were willing to entertain such an insane notion, you would say you notice Sunday's eye twitch. He had never been the kind of man to have unusual tremors or ticks, his hands always guided smoothly along their path. His face still keeps that smile of his, however. The same as he smiles at anyone else, only... colder, somehow. "My mistake," Sunday replies, his face strained. "I'm sure you mustn't keep this... company of yours waiting any longer. You should be on your way as soon as possible." You almost reassure him that Aventurine wouldn't be bothered at all, but you hold your tongue. Sunday walks around your desk to approach you, his hands clasped behind his back. "I'll take my leave as well, then. ...Though, before you go, [Y/N], I have one request." "Yes, sir?" His face grows even more unusually cold. "Cancel all of my meetings for the rest of the day," he states plainly, almost like he's admonishing you. "We'll reschedule them the moment you clock in tomorrow." "Of course, sir." "Thank you, dear. I apologize for the hassle. It seems I have something important to attend to today," he adds, seemingly more for his own sake than your own. "We'll see each other shortly." "Of course, Mr. Sunday. See you tomorrow." Sunday closes the door behind him, leaving you alone to finish sorting your papers before your meeting with Aventurine. --- a/n: hope you guys don't mind the artistic liberties with aven's dialogue lol!!! also, I don't have any intention of making this aven x y/n x sunday, but if there's enough demand i could probably incorporate that lol feedback always appreciated!!! tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos @i-am-tiredd @8x9d

[ginax0916]

hii could u do sturniolo triplets x fem reader where they treat her like one of them and toss shit at her but then they accidentally hurt her and they all panic. (maybe one of them have a secret crush on her up to u?)

★‧𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭‧★

Sturniolo Triplets x fem!bsf

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Filming a car goes wrong when a small accident happens.

Warning: Blood mentioned.

*this is gonna be just platonic so they’re just besties*

I love this request by the way, tysm! 🫶🏻

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

I’ve been friends with the triplets for longer than I can remember. They practically call me their sister now. So it isn’t unusual for me to appear in their videos. I’m usually in the vlogs just because I think they’re funner to film than car videos.

We are all currently sitting on their couch watching random videos on YouTube eating ice pops.

“Guys I’m bored” Chris says.

“Ok then what do you wanna do?” I ask.

“I don’t know but something other than whatever this is” Chris lays back on the couch sighing.

“How about we start filming the car video for Friday?” Nick says.

“But it’s literally Sunday” Matt says looking at Nick.

“Yea but we already have our Wednesday video filmed, and if we film our Friday video today we can have the rest of the week free” Nick explains.

“That’s a good idea” I say.

“Would you be in it y/n?” Matt asks.

“I’ve got nothing better to do so yea” I chuckle.

“Ok then let’s go!” Chris jumps up from the couch with a sudden outburst of energy.

-

“Look over there it’s all empty” Nick points to an empty part of the Walgreens parking lot where we chose to film.

“Ok that’s good, Chris start getting the camera ready” Matt says, driving to the spot farthest away from people.

Either way it is 12 am so there weren’t much people out anyway.

“Do we even have a topic?” I ask.

“No but we can just start speaking and see where it gets us” Nick replies.

“Do you guys want anything from Walgreens before we start?” Matt questions as he looks at Nick and I from the rearview mirror.

“Yes I want candy and a drink” Nick says.

“Me too” I say looking at Matt.

“Alright I’ll go get it” He answers while unbuckling his seat belt.

“I’ll go with you” I quickly say.

“Yea same you never get me the right candy” Chris rolls his eyes.

“Ok well I guess I have to go too now” Nick sighs.

We all got our candy and drinks except for Nick who couldn’t decide what he wanted to drink. Per usual.

“For the love of god Nick fucking choose” Chris groans.

“But there’s so many options!! I can’t do this” Nick replies grabbing his hair in frustration.

“Nick if you don’t choose something in the next 20 seconds we’re leaving” Matt sternly says.

“Oh my god look” Nick gasps.

“What” I say confused.

“They have glass bottles of coke!” Nick exclaims grabbing one from the fridge.

“Why the fuck would you want a glass bottle of coke? Just get the can” Chris comments.

“No I’m getting this. What if it tastes better in a glass bottle than in a can?” Nick questions.

“Just give me the damn thing so I can pay and go film the video for fucks sake” Matt says annoyed at his brother, as he walks to the check out.

“Mamas mad” I joke causing Chris and Nick to laugh.

-

“What the fuck is up YouTube! Welcome back to this week’s Friday video that we happen to be filming on a Sunday” Chris screams as soon as the camera starts recording, causing us all to flinch.

“Chris stop being so loud” I say grabbing his arm.

“Well we have to have a memorable intro no?” He answers, turning his body to look at me in the backseat.

“Well yea but don’t yell” I chuckle.

“Guys is it just me or did this car shrink” Nick says moving around swinging the bottle of coke in his hands.

“Nick stop you’re gonna hit me” I say shielding my face in case he does hit me.

“I hope he hits you and you break your nose” Matt says with no emotion on his face.

“Damn alright Matthew very sweet of you” I sarcastically say.

“Did you guys know that every star you see in the night sky is bigger and brighter than our sun” Chris randomly says.

“That’s not fucking true” Matt argues.

“IT IS TRUE SEARCH IT UP” Chris yells.

“Chris how many times do I have to tell you to stop screaming!” I raise my voice at him.

“Well he’s doubting my facts!” He argues back.

“Well Matt did you search it up?” Chris smirks.

“Shut up” Matt smiles.

“I told you soooo” Chris laughs.

“I finished my coke” Nick burps.

“You’re gross” I scrunch my face.

“Yea dude stop fucking burping everywhere you’re turning into Chris” Matt replies going off what I said.

“What did you say to me? I am most definitely not turning into Chris. In fact I’m better” Nick starts to argue still swinging the bottle around as he moves his arms.

“Hey! What did I do!” Chris complains.

“Oh my god” I sigh knowing they’re all about to fight.

“Oh shut up Chris sit down” Matt says in Chris’s face.

“You sit down tough guy get out of my face” Chris argues back.

“Can ya’ll just shut up please” I say rubbing my temples.

“Sorry sorry” Nick says exhaling as he rests his head on the head rest of Matt seat.

“Here I’m done with my Pepsi” Chris throws his empty can at me.

“Do I look like a trash can to you” I say annoyed.

“I’m done with my sprite too” Matt says throwing his empty spite bottle in my face.

“Oh my god why am I being attacked” I laugh.

“Wait this was from yesterday I’m done with it too” Chris adds on, throwing an empty Fanta bottle at my face again while laughing.

“That’s so gross” I laugh at him.

“Oh take this one too” Matt laughs throwing another empty soda bottle in my face which I attempt to shield.

“How dirty is your fucking car” I giggle.

“Here take mine too” Nick says throwing his glass bottle at my face, forgetting it’s glass.

“Ow Nick what the fuck that’s glass!” I raise my voice grabbing my nose as I feel a burning sensation.

“Oh shit I forgot it’s glass oh my god” Nick gasps.

“Nick why the fuck would you do that! You ok y/n?” Chris yells at Nick then turns to me.

“No not really” I quietly say trying to hold back tears.

“Lift your head up y/n” Matt softly says grabbing my chin to lift my face.

Their eyes all widen as they see blood coming out of my nose.

“Oh fuck” Chris says getting out of the car and opening the door to my side.

“Y/n im so sorry oh my god” Nick freaks out.

“Nick apologize later right now to into Walgreens and buy tissues or paper towels and some Advil for the pain. A bottle of water too” Matt says to Nick then rushing to where Chris had pulled me out of the car so I wouldn’t get blood on the seats.

“C’mere sit down and tilt your head up” Chris softly says pulling me to the ground and gently grabbing my head and tilting it back.

“I’m gonna have a panic attack I hate blood” I say as my breathing picks up and tears slowly slide down my face.

“Hey hey shh. It’s ok me and Chris are right here with you and Nick is getting some stuff to help you ok? It’s okay” Matt comforts me and pinches the bridge of my nose to help stop the flow of the blood and rubs on of my shoulder with his other hand.

“Does it hurt?” Chris asks while he rubs my knee.

“Mhm” I mumble closing my eyes.

“Here I got the stuff. Fuck I’m so so sorry please don’t die” Nick freaks out.

“Nick she’s not gonna die don’t say shit like that calm down” Chris replies.

“It’s okay Nick it was an accident I forgive you” I quietly say trying not to move my head much.

“Alright here hold that there” Matt puts some paper towels under my nose to soak the blood which was starting to become less.

“Can you swallow a pill?” Nick questions.

“Mhm” I nod.

“Open” Chris taps the side of my cheek indicating me to open my mouth, and so I do.

“Here’s water” Chris softly says, handing me water to swallow the pill he put in my mouth.

“How’s your nose sweetheart?” Matt asks, moving hair out of my face.

“It’s better and the blood stopped” I answer moving the paper towel away to see that there was no more blooding come out.

“Y/n I’m so sorry please forgive me” Nick engulfs me in a hug.

“It’s ok Nick I promise. I’m not mad it was just an accident” I say forgiving him and hugging him back.

“Alright c’mon let’s just go back home and order food and watch a movie how does that sound?” Chris asks me as he helps me up so we can all get back into the car.

“Mhm sounds good” I mumble.

“I kinda jinxed this whole situation I said I hope he hits you” Matt laughs as he starts the car.

“You really did jinx it Matt” I say.

“Guys the camera was recording the whole time” Chris points out.

“Well then this a hell of a video” Nick laughs.

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

Tried my best 🤗😛

[neoplatinum]

opposing worlds | kim chaewon

summary: rooming with kim chaewon was a terribly bad (good) decision.

pairing: roommate!chaewon x roommate!reader

themes: enemies (?) to lovers, college au, fluff, very minor angst, chaewon is a micromanager!, implied sexual content, yunjin!

wc: 3.0k

even though its below freezing outside, with a red nose along with frozen ears, you refuse to enter your apartment. fearing the demon that you live with, her legal name being kim chaewon.

a major pain in your ass is how you would describe living with her. you would rather step on legos than to live with her, but with limited on-campus housing you have to deal the cards that you've been dealt.

so you pace outside, on the welcome mat, biting your nails. just getting the courage to walk back into your apartment. one that turns into a war zone whenever chaewon's being a stickler for rules and regulations (ones that she's made for the apartment). you finally stop pacing when you feel the confidence back in your body.

"i'm not letting her dictate what i can and cant do." you say to yourself quietly, this was ridiculous. not being able to enter a space that you pay for just because chaewon was a micromanager pissed you off more than you would like to admit.

as soon as you enter the apartment, you're immediately hit with the silence of the apartment. it's odd, and you can feel a pair of eyes staring at your back. you pay it no mind as you slip off your shoes. you turn to the sight of chaewon with her arms crossed, standing in that familiar stance of authority. letting out a heavy breath, you know, watch her folded arms, tense jaw, and the most telling sign: her foot tapping rhythmically. so you walk towards her, like a child ready for scolding.

"what's it going to be tonight, chaewon? cleanliness, manners, etiquette, or are you going to comment about my clothes?" you explain, frustrated. It seems you can never get things right around miss perfect.

"cleanliness!" she exclaims, pointing at the many dishes piling up in the sink. you grimace at the sight, just remembering it was your turn to do the dishes. "look at our chore list! it's your week!" she continues point at the very detailed chore poster, your name in big bold red letters.

you groan and grab some gloves, preparing for the long lecture about cleanliness and maintaining a proper space. while you are busy washing all the bowls in the sink and placing them on a drying rack, chaewon begins listing off reasons to always maintain a clean apartment—a lecture you have heard far too often.

"enough, chaewon! i am not five, and i don't need to be lectured on why I need to wash the dishes for the 50th time!" you shout at her, cutting her off from her outburst. she stops, and you can see her lips waver, and her hands are balled into fists.

"then stop acting like a five-year-old!" she shouts back at you, stomping to her room and slamming the door. you wince at the sound, feeling a little guilty for yelling at her, she just really set you off tonight.

so you stand in the kitchen all alone with the sound of running water comforting you. feeling the weight of your words, you feel bad that she has to reprimand you for things you should figure out on your own. with a final dish on the rack, you sulk back into your room, thinking of ways to apologize to your roommate.

--

"chaewon?" you wake up early, feeling guilty that you yelled at her. even though you were tired of the lectures, you knew it was wrong to yell at the girl. you tried making a breakfast that she would like. so with a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of her favorite green tea, you carry the tray towards her room and knock on her door.

"what." her voice is flat and monotone. you shrink into yourself before speaking again.

"i made you breakfast...listen i'm sorry about yelling at you. i shouldn't have and i let my emotions get the best of me. could you open the door?" you explain, feeling awful just remembering her face when you yelled at her.

the door opens slowly and behind the door is an upset chaewon with puffy eyes and a bunch of tissues in hand. you slowly walk in and place the tray on her desk. she's busy with her schoolwork it seems, but it also looks like she's been busy crying with the pile of tissues in her waste basket.

it's weird being in her room ever since you found out how high-strung she was. so you have always steered clear of her room, this is the first time you've been inside. noticing how decorated the room is, it's cute, oddly. it's what you expect of chaewon's room, clean and proper. with a splash of green everywhere, that must be her favorite color.

she stares at the bowl of oatmeal you made her, eyeing it wearily. you groan at her.

"i didn't poison it, if that's what you're thinking." you comment quietly. she nods and sits down in her chair to eat it. you wait patiently, not really sure what to do. maybe waiting for feedback at this point. she just nods and you finally feel your shoulders release tension.

"phew." you say out loud.

"thank you for breakfast, i'll stop lecturing you so much." she says quietly. you nod, a little shocked at how dismissive she is. walking out of her room, you still feel a bit awful, maybe you should invite her out somewhere.

before you can begin to ask her, chaewon is already closing her door behind her. you're just grateful she accepted the peace offering.

--

she doesn't comment on your poor behavior in the next couple of weeks, you just feel inclined to do the chores that have been laid out. you don't hear from her for a while, feeling her absence in the apartment.

some days, when you're past boredom, eyes glued to the ceiling, and daydreaming of becoming rich. you think about chaewon and why she's so persistent about cleanliness. you always thought it was a bit extreme, but you never came back to a messy apartment. so you could appreciate that, you just hope she goes back to her own noisy self.

it's become strangely quiet in the apartment without chaewon's constant annoyance towards you. whenever you step outside in the living room in hopes of seeing chaewon, she's never there. your mood is considerably worse without a person to argue with.

you purposely leave out clothes on the floor for her to scold you, but she never comments on it. just stares at it and walks into her room. so with a dejected face, you pick up your own clothes. you hate to admit that you missing your nagging roommate.

--

"is that chaewon?" your friend shouts into your ear. saturday night out, and instead of staying inside with the awkward tension with chaewon, you're out here to party your anxiety away.

the thing that irks you tonight is that this house party is definitely a fire hazard—way exceeding the maximum number of occupants. you remember chaewon telling you to never stay in a place that breaks the maximum occupants.

you turn your head up at the question, looking around and you finally spot your roommate across the room. all you can conclude is chaewon is stupid drunk—dancing like her life depended on it. people all around her are egging her on, and chaewon breaks out the robot, making you laugh.

then some guy starts getting near her to dance with her, you frown at the sight. setting down your cup as you make your way to the other side of the room.

"woah buddy, back up." you put a hand between the dude and chaewon, he flips you off before walking away. you are about to chase after him to give him a piece of your mind, but then you remember chaewon in front of you. blearly eyes chaewon, with her stumbling and drunk laughter filling your senses. she refocuses her eyes, and they land on you, eyeing your outfit.

"what are you doing here?" she asks in a slurred tone, her finger wagging in your face.

"i could ask you the same thing." you raise your eyebrows, confused by the sight of miss perfect student chaewon partying on a sunday night. she scoffs at you.

"don't tell me what to do." she crosses her arms as best as she can, definitely feeling the drunkness.

"don't tell me what to do." you mock her tone, laughing at her when she gets mad at you. she starts to walk away, but you grab her arm. "hey, let's go home. it's late."

"no! let me go." she stomps her foot like a child.

"alright, let's do this the hard way." you say and and hoist her up, carrying her out the stuffed house.

"let me down! i'm not done partying." she shouts. you pay her no mind as she tries pushing you away. you laugh because she really isn't trying that hard.

so you take her back home, walking down frat row until you reach your apartments. by then she's fallen asleep, arms wrapped around your neck and snoring lightly. it's cute seeing chaewon so relaxed, you're glad you found her, it's been weird being at home without her. you hope whatever is happening between you two just returns back to normal.

you fumble around with the key to your apartment, and with a final push you walk into her room. unwrapping her arms from your neck, as you set her down in her bed. you admire the way chaewon looks in makeup, gorgeous and very serene.

but you also know that chaewon hates going to sleep with her makeup on, so you rummage through her makeup drawer, finding makeup wipes for her. you take the time to gently wipe all the makeup off, finding it peaceful and fulfilling to do so.

she fusses a bit when you wipe too hard. you pull back and let her calm down, before wiping the rest of it off. throwing the used wipes in her waste basket. when you turn around, you see her knocked out cold, laying like a starfish on her green comforter.

you smile at the sight and then roll her under her comforter, tucking her in. with light footsteps, you close her door, and return back to your own room. the smile never leaves your face.

--

it's been about a week since the party, chaewon was embarrassed that you had brought her home. so she bought you coffee and a muffin nearly every morning.

she lets you explain that night from your point of view, her face goes red at the embarrassing parts. you purposely leave out the part where that guy was trying to dance with her. for some reason, you feel upset when you talk about it, maybe he just looked too creepy.

she dissapears into her room soon after, something along the lines of, "i need to process all this."

later that night, you're writing on your laptop when you hear chaewon's door open. the sight of her in a nice form fitting dress and her hair done up, your jaw drops and you jump to your feet.

"where are you going?" you ask. she's checking her purse for something. she looks up at you confused.

"a party?" she states like it's so obvious. your body is jittery at the idea. you think quickly, she's not going out by herself. what if she gets kidnapped?

"wait, let me go with you." you say as you rush into your room to get ready, no way you're letting her go to that party alone. you need to fend off the creepy men for her.

"why are you going?" she asks from outside the doorway. a little confused at the sight of you throwing clothes everywhere. she even steps inside to pick up the clothes now littered all over the floor.

"just cause." you say and grab your outfit. rushing into your bathroom to change. within a few minutes you walk out ready to accompany chaewon.

she's on her phone waiting for you, and you examine her outfit. you rummage through the closet, looking for a nice warm jacket. slipping it over her shoulders as you both set out for the night. you miss how chaewon's cheeks warm at the gesture.

--

it has started becoming a regular habit: if you can't attend the party with chaewon, no matter how late or wasted she is, you always pick her up from the party. if she was too tired or drunk, you would help tuck her into bed.

oftentimes, you even had to help her puke her guts out from drinking too much. but that was never a pretty sight, so you try and get her to puke her guts out before she enters the apartment.

one night, she ends up just crawling into your bed. when you fall asleep, you feel her body warmth against your body. she makes herself comfortable under the blanket. wrapping her arms around your torso as she lays against your pillow.

you move yourself further off the edge of the bed as she scoots closer. she mumbles something about how warm her bed is, and honestly, even with her taking up your personal space, you don't mind.

it has somehow blended into a habit to sleep together every night when she came in the next night, and without a word, slipped under the comforter again. you let her, too scared of saying anything in case it scared her away. it's become a nightly thing to just sleep in the same bed together...even when she's not drunk.

--

"you two do what?" yunjin is staring at you with her food half chewed.

"dont talk with food in your mouth, you're going to catch flies." you comment.

"oh great, now you sound like chaewon too." yunjin bites her food. you decided to contact yunjin in hopes of figuring out what to do with this new "development" with chaewon. the habit of her sleeping in your bed with you. sometimes you wake up and catch chaewon staring at you.

"so you two sleep together in the same bed, brush your teeth together, go about your morning and nightly routine together, and even cuddle...platonically." yunjin questions you, but the sarcasm is dripping as she says it.

"yes." you answer.

yunjin takes a deep breath before starting up again, she didn't think you were so dense. "dude, chaewon is into you."

"no she's not, just two months ago we were at each other throats. don't you remember?" you ask.

"of course i remember, oh my GOD, is this my real life enemies to lovers slow burn 10k words fic in real life?" yunjin says to herself towards the end.

"you seriously have got to get off the internet." you cross your arms staring at the girl. "you aren't helping, by the way."

"help with what?" she asks, a little confused.

"what do i do?" you ask her. ever since the new habit of chaewon and yours, you've been going through your days all confused, always thinking about chaewon.

"you either grow a pair and confess you want to be more than 'sleep buddies' or you wuss out and just let her continue doing this." she says plainly.

you disregard her comment, "forget what i said." you say. yunjin just shrugs and continues eating her meal, letting you sit with your own thoughts.

--

so you do wuss out like an absolute coward. just letting the unspoken words take over you and chaewon's sleeping arrangements. you let her continue to invade your space, moving her stuff into your room. her decorations, her clothes in your drawers, and just recently she moved her desk into your room, placing it just next to your desk.

you were shocked at the arrangement but couldn't find the confidence to comment on it. it's weird; now you two practically exist in each other's space all the time; just two months ago, you were cursing the world for giving you chaewon as a roommate. now you can't imagine going to sleep without seeing her and her hair roller every night.

sleeping together turns into unspoken dates: going to the movies together, going bowling, getting groceries together, and even going to high-end restaurants together.

it's like you're dating unofficially. those were the exact words your friend told you when he came over to visit. when you let him into your room to show off your movie posters, he immediately thought you had a girlfriend, you had to explain to him how it was just chaewon.

he looked at you like you grew a third eye, confused at how chaewon went from most annoying person in the world, to someone who sleeps in your bed every night. you try not to let those words mean so much, but secretly you're hoping you can officially date her.

--

one night, you go out clubbing with chaewon; she looks gorgeous in her tight dress and her hair laid out, showing off her dancing to you. you recently found out thar chaewon was part of the dance team, often visiting her showcases. now you enjoy just watching her let loose, like a free soul, not bounded by her own rules. its beautiful to see.

by the third song of you two circling each other on the dance floor, you kiss her. pulling her into your embrace, hands reaching her back and pushing her closer to you. she welcomes the kiss and lets you pull her closer. hands running up your hair, tugging lightly.

you make out with her against the club wall, and drag each other home with urgency. laughing loudly in the streets like teenagers in love.

"be mine." she breathes into your ears that night.

"only if you're mine too." you kiss her shoulder, and she nods.

--

yunjin visits you two the next day, screaming at the sight of you two in your bed and covering her eyes immediately. you wake up horrified with chaewon clinging onto you as yunjin screams for the whole apartment complex to hear. she slams the door closed and runs out of the apartment. you and chaewon both look at each other before laughing loudly.

even though yunjin avoids both you and chaewon for the next two weeks, you don't feel an ounce of regret. you can honestly say that rooming with chaewon was the best decision of your life.

--

a/n: i feel like chaewon fits enemies to lovers really well but maybe that's just me. didn't really proofread this one but anyways. posting this piece first because it was decided by the people! i hope it was worth the wait! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[anon-sect]

There’s not enough unwilling cock tf content out there

I agree, so here is another one for you.

Picture source: @man-in-charge

Jason had been smoking pot the previous night. He was surprised when he was selected for the random drug test at work the next day. He knew his job had a no drug policy. He would be fired immediately if he tested positive. He went to the one guy at work who didn't like him much for help.

"Hey, Devin. Could you help me with something?" Jason asked him, not sure if the guy would help, given their work relationship.

Devin looked over at Jason, wondering what he needed. They never saw eye to eye at work. Why would he ask him for help, he thought. "Depends on if I am interested in helping you." He spoke honestly.

"I need to pass this randomly selected drug test. If I don't, my job is toast. Please, help me this one time." Jason pleaded.

"Why would I have interest in helping you keep your job?" Devin responded in an uninterested tone of voice.

"Please dude, help me out. I am begging you." Jason pleaded one more time. He didn't want to lose his job over one mistake of the previous night.

Devin decided to help him, but on one condition. "I will help, but when I request something of you, you have to do it. You have to promise this, or you don't get my help." He had a smirk on his face seeing Jason squirm at that condition.

Jason didn't like it, but he saw that this was his only solution. "Okay, I promise, when you make a request of me, I will do it." He saw Devin extended his hand to shake on it. They both shook hands. Devin left and came back holding a small enough amount of his own piss in a small bottle. He handed it over to him. He managed to sneak in the bottle at the test. He exchanged the piss into the new bottle and submitted it.

One week later.....

Devin cornered Jason in the restroom and locked the door. "Time to pay up." He told him.

Jason was curious as to what Devin wanted till he noticed him u zipping his pants. He shook his head as he realized what his coworker wanted. "No way, dude. Seriously, this?" He objected without Devin even saying it.

"Blow me right now and swallow my cum." Devin told him quietly with a devilish smile. He pulled down his underwear to reveal his cock. "Remember, you promised. It's my request, so you have to do it." He added.

Jason shook his head again. "Request something else, please." He didn't want to suck his coworker's dick. He wasn't going to do that. He was straight, not some gay guy.

"Do it, or tell everyone how you loved my dick." Devin threatened, knowing full well that he would go through with his threat.

Jason realized that if he didn't, some would believe Devin. He got to his knees and began to suck it. He continued to move his mouth over and over on his cock. It got hard in his mouth. As soon as it got rock hard, he knew Devin was about to release. He didn't want to swallow, but Devin wasn't going to be denied such pleasure. Devin held his head over his dick as hot cum lathered his tongue. He was forced to swallow every last drop. He thought it was over till he noticed that he could take his mouth off of Devin's cock. He heard him laugh from above.

"You swallowed my cum, now I can change you into anything I want. My cum has that ability. You will be my dick now." Devin laughed as he watched Jason shrink in size and merge with his cock. A few minutes later, Jason was gone. Devin had an extra four inches to his cock. He pulled up his underwear and zipped up his pants, and went back to work.

Later that night, Devin felt his cock twitching in his underwear. He went to his bathroom to take a selfie. His cock twitched even more. He loved it. He now had a living cock. It felt great to have a guy be his cock for the rest of his life. "Feels like you are excited down there. I think I should head to the gay bar tonight and give you some action." He laughed.

Jason was horrified and angry at the same time. He wasn't gay, but he was now the cock of another guy. His twitching was a protest to what Devin did, not excitement. He didn't want anyone sucking him or shoved into anyone's ass. It was bad enough when Devin had to go pee. He could still taste the nastiness of his urine. He was now a cock on a gay guy from work. Owing him a favor turned into his worst nightmare.

[shixcherie]

Got My Eyes On You | Park Seonghwa ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 28 : Succubus

↬ [ Synopsis ] : A reckless, spooky game on Halloween night traps Seonghwa in vivid, sinful dreams of a seductive succubus, leaving him breathless and wanting more. But when he finds himself alone in a love hotel in Japan, staring up at you, the irresistible creature of his fantasies that is when he realizes his darkest dreams are about to come true, as reality and desire collide in one unforgettable night.

☆Word Count : 5.2k ☆Genre : Smut, Lil plot, Non-idol au, Supernatural Au. ☆Pairing : Park Seonghwa x Succubus! F.reader

☆☆☆ WARNINGS : mdni!, supernatural theme, wet dreams & dream control, dreams and reality blurring, summoning the devil (succubus), mysterious reader, mention of Japan’s love hotels, hotel room sex, Seonghwa’s wildest dreams come true (literally!), Cute-ish Dom reader, Switch Hwa, Blowjob ( Hwa recieving), Fondling and breast play, multiple orgasms, mild voyeurism, power play, non-con (due to supernatural influence…if ur not comfy with this…kindly skip it).

NOTE : Yes… I’m going to continue and complete Kinktober, even though we’re past the 31st. I really want to finish this challenge and not leave it incomplete, so I hope ma chéries will enjoy this supernatural one shot. This is my first time writing supernatural stuff and it was such a fun experience…can’t wait to write more.

The living room was glowing in soft, flickering candlelight, the only source of illumination after Wooyoung had insisted on setting the room up “for the vibes” though he looked more terrified than inspired at the moment.

With San cooped up next to him,Seonghwa shifted uncomfortably on the floor, glancing down at the Ouija board sitting ominously in front of them. He crossed his arms, looking at his two friends in disbelief.

“This is ridiculous.” Seonghwa muttered, trying to keep his voice steady despite the chills creeping up his spine. “I’m telling you, nothing good ever comes from games like this.”

“Oh, come on hyung,” Wooyoung slurred slightly, a sleepy grin stretching across his face. “You promised you’d play along.We need a little bit of Halloween fuunnn…It’s tradition!” He nudged Seonghwa with his shoulder, a tipsy glint of mischief dancing in his eyes with the smell of alchol evident in his breath.

San sitting a little too close to Seonghwa, darted nervous glances around the room. “Honestly, hyung, ju-just… just do it. Otherwise, Woo’s gonna whine all night, and I can’t handle that.” He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as though trying to shrink into the sofa behind him.

“I’m not playing this stupid—” Seonghwa tried to protest, but Wooyoung interrupted with an irresistible offer, even in his drunken state as words slurred out of his mouth. “I’ll pay for your whole trip to Japan—from food to flights, everything! We’ll be there next week, and if you wanna avail the perks, Park Se-Seonghwa, you better not get up or try to leave.”

Seonghwa sighed, rolling his eyes knowing very well that a drunk Wooyoung is more than a handful to deal with especially when not given what he wants. And that was a lucrative offer to reject. Nodding his head, he gave up on having any chance of escaping playing the game tonight, shifting his attention the Ouija board that sat infront of him. He watched as Wooyoung carefully placed his fingertips on the planchette and gestured impatiently for Seonghwa and San to do the same. Both hesitated a bit before giving up and complying to their friend’s drunken demands as each of their fingers barely touched the wooden triangle.

“All right,” Wooyoung began, looking dramatically serious as he addressed the board. “If there are any spirits here with us tonight, give us a sign.” His tone was clearly exaggerated, in a poor effort to mask his own nerves which did not go unnocited by Seonghwa as he noticed how he refused to meet anyone’s gaze, his eyes glued to the board.

The three sat in silence, waiting and waiting a bit more. Nothing happened, only the distant hum of the refrigerator and a low creak from somewhere in the house, probably a rat or some shit. San’s fingers twitched on the planchette, but he didn’t dare move.

“See ? Nothing. This is a total waste of time.” Seonghwa huffed, attempting to pull his hand back, but Wooyoung stopped him with a pout.

“No! Hyung, we have to be patient! Maybe… maybe they don’t know we’re serious about meeting them.” Wooyoung’s voice faltered slightly as he straightened his posture, attempting to project confidence.

"Uh, spirits? Just so you know, we’re not kidding around or anything!" Wooyoung's voice wavered as he cleared his throat, shooting a nervous glance at Seonghwa and San. "T-This... this isn’t a joke, okay ? We’re, um, respectfully inviting you." He forced out a shaky breath, hands fidgeting as he looked around the dim room. "So, if you could just... maybe show us a little something ? Just a quick... ghostly thumbs up or a nice little breeze or... something cool like that?" He tried to laugh, but it came out tense, his eyes darting around as if expecting a shadow to lunge out any second.

The silence dragged on, stretching uncomfortably, and Seonghwa found himself listening to every tiny sound. The groaning pipes, the occasional rustling of leaves outside the window, even the soft breath of his friends beside him. It all felt so much louder, so much more ominous.

Suddenly, a faint noise echoed from the hallway, a soft creak like a slow footstep pressing into the floorboards, or maybe something… else. All three of them froze, their eyes widening as they looked toward the source of the sound.

“D-Did you… did you hear that?” San whispered, his voice barely audible and shaky.

Wooyoung gulped, his face paling slightly. “It’s probably nothing. Just like… the wind rattling… or maybe an animal outside… or something.”

“Yeah right…” Seonghwa mumbled, his fingers now gripping the planchette a bit too tightly. “You know what ? I think we’ve had enough spooky fun for one night. Let’s call it quits before we actually freak ourselves out.”

Wooyoung opened his mouth to protest, but a louder noise this time from the kitchen cut him off. It sounded like something or someone was scraping against the counter, then a dull thud followed. San’s hand flew to his mouth to stifle a gasp, and even Wooyoung looked too startled to speak.

“Okay, that’s it,” San squeaked, shooting up from the floor. “My parents aren’t home, and I am not spending the night alone in a haunted house.”

Without needing to say another word, the three scrambled to gather their things, practically stumbling over each other in their haste. Seonghwa, still trying to shake off the chills prickling up his spine, grabbed his jacket and ushered Wooyoung and San out of the house, half-laughing at how ridiculous they looked as all three of them darted around like scared bunnies.

Once they were all in the car, the silence lingered for a moment before Wooyoung laughed a little too loudly but his voice was still shaky. “S-See ? Nothing to be s-scared of. It’s all in our heads, r-right ?”

San just nodded furiously while his arms wrapped tightly around himself in the back seat. Seonghwa tried to laugh it off too, but even he couldn’t deny the strange, heavy feeling that had settled around him, clinging him like a chill even after they’d left San’s house far behind.

Little did he know, that feeling wasn’t about to leave him anytime soon.

After dropping off Wooyoung and San, Seonghwa drove home alone, replaying the night’s eerie events, trying to convince himself the strange sounds they’d heard were just some random creaks or the wind outside.Still, San’s terrified face and Wooyoung’s nervous rambling clung to him, making his palms sweaty on the wheel.

Pulling into his driveway, a chill crept over him as he paused, glancing around the empty and eeriely silent street. “Get a grip, Hwa. It’s just some creepy Halloween nonsense.” he muttered to himself, forcing a shaky chuckle. Yet the prickle up his spine only deepened.

Inside, the house felt oddly off, like something unseen lurked in the corners. He flicked on lights as he moved through each room, feeling oddly reassured by the warm glow.

In the kitchen, as he sipped a glass of water, a chill brushed against the back of his neck, making him freeze in place. A faint creak echoed from somewhere behind him, followed by the soft fluttering of wings. His heart skipped a beat as he whipped around to see... nothing. Just the empty hallway. "This is all your fault, Wooyoung." he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice as he blamed his friend for his racing heart.

Heading to bed, he felt an odd, heavy presence around him. Every faint noise, even a creak, a whisper seemed just loud enough to set his heart racing, though nothing ever followed. “There’s no one here but you,” he tried to assure himself, but his voice sounded uncertain even to his own ears. He laid back ulling the blanket up and tight around himself as he tried to shake off the lingering sense that something is hovering in the quiet shadows as he drifted into uneasy sleep.

That night, as Seonghwa drifted off to sleep, he slipped into an unusually vivid dream. The world around him was dimly lit, wrapped in shadows, and the air was thick with the alluring scent of warm honey and spice. His pulse quickened, a mix of curiosity and desire washing over him as he looked around, sensing he wasn’t alone. Then she appeared, a figure veiled in darkness, stepping slowly toward him with an aura that shone so brightly, as if she were trying to bewitch him, inviting him into her world.

Her facial features were blurry, but her lips were clear with an alluring, devilish smirk playing across them, telling Seonghwa everything he needed to know - she wasn’t quite human. Tiny horns peeked through her hair and behind her, dark wings spread out with a graceful elegance giving her an almost ethereal presence. A slender tail flicked playfully as she drew closer, each step tease of what was to come. Seonghwa’s breath hitched as she knelt before him, her fingers grazing his knees, teasing and sending jolts of heat up his spine.

That was when he realized he was completely naked in front of her.

Is this his mind playing games with him? But then, why does this feel way too real? Too good? Her touch, her movement… her glowing and sexy curves… her wings… is she a succubus?

The succubus tilted her head slightly as she looked up at him, as if she were memorizing his face. Seonghwa tried his hardest to make out her features, squinting his eyes. But she swiftly shifted her attention back to his thighs, leaning in as her lips brushed softly against his bare skin, each kiss igniting a fresh wave of warmth that made his head spin. Her touch was feather-light at first, almost teasing, as though she wanted to draw out every tremble and sigh he had to offer. Her hands slid up his thighs, inch by inch, leaving no space untouched, her fingertips grazing his skin with an electric sensation that left him craving more. Seonghwa’s breaths grew ragged as he watched her, his body surrendering to the hypnotic pleasure she brought.

“Wh-what are you doing…” Seonghwa whispered as if she were actually there. Or was she ? Her fingers wrapped around his hard length, her lips holding a smirk as she met his gaze—not literally, but the creature looked up for his reaction. Fully satisfied with his flushed face, her hand began moving up and down his hard length as Seonghwa’s breaths grew deeper and more ragged. Her initially slow pace quickened, pumping his hard cock as if she were prepping him for what was next to come.

Leaning down, the succubus wrapped her lips around him with a warmth that felt overwhelmingly real. Seonghwa couldn’t hold back the low groan that escaped him, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him. She took her time, alternating between gentle sucks and skillful flicks of her tongue, her hands trailing up his torso as if claiming him entirely. Each movement, each touch, felt crafted to drive him to the edge, yet she held back just enough to keep him in exquisite suspense.

Her wings brushed lightly against his legs, amplifying the sensation as she took his hard length entirely into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she quickened her pace, bobbing her head up and down while Seonghwa’s red tip hit the back of her throat. Seonghwa’s mind spun, the sensations sending him into a blissful state as his tip made contact with the back of her throat. His toes curled, and his fingers clutched even more tightly around the sheets. Every subtle moan, every breathless sound she drew from him felt real, almost as if she were drawing out his very soul.

While his dilemma over who or what she was kept eating at him, his mind slowly turned to mush as his head was thrown back in the intoxicating pleasure she was giving him, leaving him only wanting more. This otherworldly creature, a succubus to be exact, was giving him… a blowjob?

When he finally woke, he found himself tangled in his sheets, his body damp with sweat and his breathing uneven. His black sweatpants were soaked with white stains, his whole body trembling from the intensity of the experience. He sat up slowly, still dazed, as every detail of the dream lingered vividly, as though she’d truly been there with him.

Seonghwa knew a thing or two about succubi, thanks to his scaredy-cat friend Wooyoung's interest in these horror-ish things and his habit of chewing Seonghwa’s ear off about them every morning on the drive to college.

He tried to brush the dream off as a one-time thing, thinking that maybe it was an aftereffect of them playing that Ouija board game. But it became his nightly torment. Every night, this alluring creature would appear in his dreams and pleasure him, edging the heck out of him but never allowing him release or letting him figure out her face. Each dream grew more intense, her touch more familiar, her presence more demanding. Every morning, Seonghwa woke up flushed, his body tingling with need, his mind haunted by the charming succubus that had taken control of his nights. He tried to shake it off each time, telling himself it was just his imagination and that she wouldn’t come back. But each night, as he closed his eyes, the creature returned, and he found himself helplessly craving more, desperate to uncover her identity.

The next few days went by in a blur as Seonghwa found himself, on a fine evening, exploring the streets of Japan. Wooyoung was keeping his promise of paying for everything Seonghwa touched, but slowly, it was turning into a pain in the ass. Exploring love hotels was not his jam, yet here he was, accompanying his two best friends as Wooyoung dragged San along, excitedly explaining the meaning of each love hotel they passed.

“Sannie, that is the Starlight Inn, that one is The Secret Garden, and that one is my favorite, the Moonlight Suite,” Wooyoung squealed, his arm wrapped around San’s. A kittenish smile played on San's lips as he nodded along to whatever Wooyoung was saying. Seonghwa trailed behind them, not really interested and distracted, his mind haunted by flashes of the succubus from his dreams.

“Seonghwa-hyung, keep up, or else you’ll get lost,” Wooyoung called back, noticing his bored and distant expression. Then Wooyoung wrapped his other arm around Seonghwa, keeping one arm snug around San.

“Hyung, which one do you like?” Wooyoung asked excitedly, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“Nothing,” Seonghwa replied bluntly, pursing his lips as he had been dragged along enough for one night.

Wooyoung pouted,“Come on, there should be at least one that you like! Else, where are you gonna stay tonight?” he asked, a playful mischief evident in his tone.

“In my hotel room, Wooyoung. And why the hell would I stay in a love hotel when I have my beautiful hotel room?” Seonghwa shot back, half-wishing he could push away the strange longing he felt every night, haunted by the succubus.

“’Cause we checked us out of the hotel, hyung. Tonight, one of these babies is gonna be our home.” Wooyoung gave Seonghwa a cheeky smile, gesturing proudly at the line of love hotels as if he’d done him a huge favor while Seonghwa’s face held a baffled expression.

Seonghwa’s eyes went wide, his expression shifting from surprise to mild panic. “Wait—are you serious? You really checked us out of the hotel ? Without telling me?”

Wooyoung laughed, glancing at San as if they were in on a secret together. “Oh, we’re serious, alright.”

Seonghwa’s gaze moved to San, desperate for some kind of reasonable explanation. “San-ah! You knew about this ?” he asked, trying to appeal to the most sensible one of the group. “I get it for you two, but why was I the only one left in the dark here?”

San scratched the back of his neck, a faint blush coloring his ears. “S-surprise, hyung ?” he offered sheepishly, giving Seonghwa a guilty smile.

Seonghwa shook his head, feeling a mixture of frustration and amusement as he looked at his two friends. “Unbelievable…” he muttered, sighing in as there was no way out of it now.

Wooyoung laughed, pulling him closer as they headed toward a nearby restaurant. “Don’t look so disappointed, hyung. This will be fun, I promise!”. But as his friends laughed and chattered, Seonghwa’s thoughts drifted, his mind unwillingly replaying flashes of his delicous night time encounters with the succubus creature. Even surrounded by friends, he couldn’t fully shake the haunting intensity of his dreams.

After the dinner, WooSan left to book the love hotels while Seonghwa insisted on staying a bit longer, enjoying the atmosphere of the restaurant. He soaked in the fact that he was in Japan as the foreign energy of the city buzzed around him. He downed his second glass of beer, the warmth spreading through him as his mind wandered back to the delicious dreams he had been having. His cheeks flushed a soft pink as he sat there, lost in thought, surrounded by strangers, when a light tap on his shoulder pulled him out of his daydreams.

He turned, slightly startled, and found himself face-to-face with a girl. She was dressed entirely in black, from the long coat to the cap that hid most of her face, and a mask that covered everything but her lips. She stood silently for a moment, her presence almost otherworldly, then handed him a tissue. Seonghwa blinked in confusion, about to ask what this was about, but before he could speak, she leaned in close. Her warm breath brushed against his ear, and the familiar scent of honey and spice filled his senses, sending a jolt of electricity straight to his core as she whispered.

“You’ve been dreaming about me, haven’t you, Seonghwa ?” she murmured, her tone was teasing, the words sent a shiver down his spine. “You called me on Halloween night, remember ? So… feel like summoning me again ? The name’s Y/n.”

Is the voice of the succubus creature from his dreams ? Woow..umm..her name’s Y/n…alright woooh!

She spoke as your finger trailed lightly over his hand, a soft, deliberate motion that sent a wave of heat through him. It was so familiar, so hauntingly like the dreams, that Seonghwa’s breath hitched, and his body tensed.

The words, the touch—they were too familiar. Seonghwa’s heart skipped a beat. There was no mistaking it. This was the same feeling he had when the succubus appeared in his dreams, when her touch sent waves of heat through his body, when her lips wrapped around his length, pulling him deeper into a world he couldn’t escape. This was exactly how he felt.

His eyes widened as a faint yellow glow flickered beneath the edge of her cap, catching the light just enough for him to see. It was subtle, yet he could faintly make out her eyes, but it was enough to make his heart race as the blurry face from his dreams was slowly taking shape. That glow reminded him of his dreams, bewitching him as his mind spun with the realization that she was somehow connected to the creature haunting his nights.

She gave him a slow, knowing smile, and without another word, she made a casual, almost teasing gesture as her fingers curled into a 🤙 “call me” motion. With that, she turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Seonghwa staring after her, his pulse hammering in his chest.

He was 99.9% sure now. This was no coincidence. The succubus—the creature from his dreams—had been standing right in front of him, and now she had left him with her phone number on the tissue, daring him to make the next move.

Back in his single room at the love hotel, Seonghwa lay sprawled on the bed, staring at the tissue with her number. “Y/n…Y/n….Y/n..” he mind repeated the girl’s name in the resaturant, your name, as your voice still ringed in his ears.

The thin walls did nothing to muffle the sounds of nearby couples, wrapped up in their own heated moments. He chuckled dryly, thinking he could even hear WooSan somewhere in the mix. Why couldn’t he have some fun, too ? Would you actually show up if he called the number the though ?

On impulse, he dialed your number, half-expecting it to be a dead end or a prank. But the phone barely rang once before a soft knock echoed from his door. He sat up as his heart raced, slowly getting off the bed and opening the door, his breath caught up in his throught.

There you were, standing in all your glory, in the dim light of the hallway, your lips curved in a familiar, teasing smile, your eyes gleaming beneath the cap. You raised a brow, as if daring him to let you in, that same sultry, electric energy from his dreams flooded the room as both of your eyes got locked.

With a whisper of air, you stepped through the door. As you entered, your coat slipped from your shoulders, revealing your true form beneath: a form-fitting, alluring costume that accentuated your curves, framed by delicate, black wings that spread out gracefully behind you. Tiny, glistening horns peeked out from your hair, adding a touch of playful wickedness, and your eyes glowed with a sultry, supernatural light that seemed to shift between crimson and gold. Your ture form appeared infront of Seonghwa as he took the sight in front of him front horn to toe.

“Thought you wouldn’t show up” he breathed, voice husky and low as he stepped towards you. His hands snaked around you waist, brushing against the massive wings. Your cute yet sexy face, the soft glowing skin, the tight and exposing costume, the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips everything was way too overwhelming and inviting for him to think straight. He rubbed you sides as you leaned in to his touch, settling in his embrace.

“Did you think I’d stay away for long ?” you teased, leaning in even closer so that he could feel the warmth radiating from you. Your eyes, deep and gleaming, locked with his as his fingers trailed lightly across you jawline, tilting his chin.

The tension in the room thickened, his heartbeat drumming fast as you pressed your lips to his, a taste of dark temptation and sweet promises. His hands tightened around your waist while you hands tangled in his lush hair, tugged his root and urging him to deepen the kiss. He obeyed as his free hand cupped you cheeks and his tongue explored your mouth. Biting his bottom lip, you earned a soft groan from Seonghwa as he returned the favor by squeezing you ass.

After a series of lingering kisses and soft touches, you pulled back slightly, watching as Seonghwa caught his breath, his eyes half-lidded with desire. But there was something deeper you needed him to understand something that would change everything between you.

“I think it’s time,” you murmured, fingers tracing his arm. “For you to rest. For this to be real, you need to let go and fall asleep.”

He frowned, holding you closer. “I don’t want this to end,” he breathed, his reluctance evident.

Shaking your head, you smiled gently. “Trust me, Seonghwa. If you want to experience everything I can give, you’ll have to trust me.” Your fingers brushed his jaw, softening his hesitation. “If you let yourself drift off… I’ll come back. Every time.”

He looked at you, confusion clouding his mind. “What do you mean, ‘come back’?” His hand wandered to his waist, and you couldn’t help but smile at the realization that was about to dawn upon him.

“Remember Halloween?” you whispered, watching his eyes widen. “That Ouija board… it wasn’t ordinary. It was made to summon creatures, not just spirits, to bring to life your deepest fantasies.”

His hand drifted to his waist, discovering the small cupid tattoo just beneath his ribs. His fingers traced it, astonished. “T-This… it wasn’t here before.”

You nodded, guiding his hand over it, your fingers tracing its delicate outline. “That mark connects you and me. It allows me to be here like this. But it’s fragile. Break the rules, and I won’t be able to return.”

He blinked, torn between fascination and uncertainty. “What… what rules?”

You leaned in, your lips grazing his ear as you explained, “The rule is simple. To summon me, touch the tattoo, think of your desires… and fall asleep. That’s all it takes. Follow it, and I’ll always come to you.”

His breath caught, eyes darkening with understanding. “So, whenever I want to see you…” His soft gaze locked on yours. “You’ll come back?”

Smiling, you nodded. “Anytime you call for me… I’ll be here.”

He closed his eyes, letting the details sink in. “Then show me, tonight.” His hand cradled your face, pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss.

Your hands rested over the tattoo, and as he relaxed, his breathing calmed. He slowly let the darkness overtake him and finally slipped into sleep. The last thing he saw was the glint in your eyes, promising him the dreams and desires you would fulfill whenever he summoned you again.

As Seonghwa sank further into the dream, the dimly lit room closed in around him, the air thick with the alluring and familiar scent of honey and spice, refilling his senses. His heartbeat raced as he took in the sight of you—a vision wrapped in shadow and light, wings stretched behind you, dark and leathery, more breathtaking than any fantasy he’d ever dared to imagine. The soft glow highlighted the sharp curve of your horns and the glint in your eyes, eyes that burned with a supernatural intensity that sent a shiver through him. Your pupils dilated, swirling with a crimson hue, as your heart raced in anticipation of the upcoming pleasure and danger.

You closed the space between you with slow steps, the fabric clinging to you in ways that left little to the imagination, drawing him deeper and deeper into your hypnotizing spell. He watched, mesmerized, as you settled into his lap, your wings folding around you both like a protective shroud. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, nails sharp enough to tease but not break the skin, your body pressing flush against him.

“Is this… really happening?” he breathed, his voice thick with desire, his fingers tracing the lines of your waist as if familiarizing himself with your body. His touch drifted higher, hands cupping your breasts, fingers kneading the supple skin and drawing soft, gasping sounds from your lips. He rolled his thumbs over your sensitive peaks, feeling them harden beneath his touch as your body arched into him, eyes narrowing with pleasure as the yellow glint shone brighter.

Your lips curved into a teasing smile as you leaned closer, your breath hot against his skin. “It’s as real as you make it,” you whispered, letting your hands drift down his chest before meeting his gaze with an intense stare. Your wings shifted, casting shadows on the wall while the tip of your tail coiled around his wrist playfully, guiding his hand back to your chest, urging him to continue the sweet torture.

“And right now, in this dream,” you said, your eyes glowing brighter, “we’re free from all rules.”

As soon as those words left your lips, he pulled you closer, his hands slipping down to cup your thighs, fingers pressing into the softness there as he guided you over him. Every touch, every movement between you ignited a fire that blurred the line between reality and dream until the world around you both faded into dark oblivion. Your lips brushed against his, softly at first, before deepening into something fiercer and more primal.

His hands wandered up your back, fingertips tracing the sensitive membrane of your wings, sending jolts of heat coursing through your veins. The soft touch drew a moan from you, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment, lips parting to reveal the elongated canines that gleamed in the dim light.

You rolled your hips against him, a delicious friction that made him let out a low, shuddering breath, his grip tightening as he held you in place, urging you to continue. His mouth moved from your lips, trailing kisses down your jaw and across the soft pulse point on your neck. Then, he took a perked nipple into his mouth. The heat of his tongue, the way he nipped and sucked, sent a shiver straight to your core. Your hands clutched at his hair, the sensation heightened as your tail tugged his arm, pulling him impossibly closer.

The room filled with the thick air of anticipation as he shifted beneath you, guiding himself to your entrance. Your breath hitched as you felt him press against you. He was long, which you already knew from having given him a blowjob, but the feeling of his tip pressing against your wet core sparked a fire so hot that it raised goosebumps all over your body. His eyes met yours, a mix of lust and longing that warmed your heart, as if he was asking for permission to claim you completely.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice laced with need. The word was a command, a plea, and it sent him over the edge. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered you, the sensation electric as your bodies joined. The connection between you was immediate and profound as the mark—the cupid tattoo beneath his ribs—glowed with the joining of your bodies.

Your wings fluttered, stretching wide as a cry of pleasure escaped your lips. The room glowed with a supernatural light, shadows dancing wildly as he moved within you, each thrust sending waves of heat and pleasure coursing through you both. His hands found your hips, fingers digging in as he held you close, maintaining his rhythm as your bodies moved in sync.

You rocked against him, meeting his movements with a passion that left no space for doubt or hesitation. His name tumbled from your lips in a chant as the intensity built, a knot of tension that threatened to snap at any moment. His lips found yours again, the kiss searing as his hips snapped forward, pushing you both closer to the edge.

As the world around you blurred, his hands traced your spine, fingertips brushing the base of your wings, sending you spiraling straight over the edge. Your eyes met his, a shared understanding passing between you as the final surge overtook you both. With a breathless cry, you came undone, your body shuddering around him while he experienced his own intense climax, marking you with the last thrust, a bond sealed with the heat of passion.

The afterglow wrapped around you both like a warm blanket, your bodies pressed together, chests moving up and down in unison as you caught your breath. His fingers traced the mark on his waist, now glowing with a warm yellow hue—a proof of the connection between you.

“Remember,” you whispered, your voice a soft reminder, lips brushing against his ear. “If you want me back… just call for me.”

And as he drifted into deeper sleep, the memory of you lingered, the promise of future dreams bound to the tattoo, linking him to you forever.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[erospandemos]

Winter's mission

Aespa Winter x Reader

Winter finds your secret diary and most importantly, your secret bucket list. Upon the discovery, she decides to fulfil every possible desire. The problem, however, is that every aspiration revolves around Winter herself.

Minjeong and you agreed to do a marathon to watch the whole drama you had both been saving up to watch. Your friend came to your house right before lunch so you could start eating with the first episode. It was just like the other times: she promised she wouldn’t get too invested and after two episodes she’d start screaming from frustration when the main leads were this close to kissing but backed away. You’d be laughing and she’d be yelling at you because it was a serious matter.

In the late afternoon, Minjeong got hungry. She begged you to get her favorite snack, the pepero sticks. You bought them two weeks ago and put them somewhere in your kitchen but didn’t remember at all. Still, your friend wanted one thing and one thing only. You tried to refuse but when she showed you her googly eyes and puffed her cheeks, you gave in. She was just too cute.

So you stood up and reluctantly made your way to the kitchen.

However, you made a big mistake by leaving the room without checking the stuff on your table, most notably your diary. Minjeong saw it clearly, the weathered journal peeking out from under a pile of books on the bedside table. She knew it wasn’t a notebook because she’d been your friend long enough to have memorized all your preferences and you were too cheap to buy such a nice diary.

Curiosity piqued, she hesitated for a moment to think if she should do it or not. She chewed her lower lip, with a light sense of guilt. You were gone to find some hidden and forgotten snack, so it should have been long enough—she had enough time. The more she waited, the more dangerous it was. 

Minjeong made up her mind. She lifted the books and took out the notebook. She sat cross-legged on your bed, ready to reveal your secrets. As she contemplated opening it, a rush of adrenaline hit her veins, causing her heart to quicken and her muscles to tense up. She hasn’t even read a single letter yet but sweat was already dripping down her back.

“I probably shouldn't be doing this, but... what's the harm?” she whispered to herself, sighing deeply. “Okay, just a peek. It won’t hurt anyone.”

Minjeong took one last deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she started to open the diary. The creak of the leather seemed to echo in the room, she was alone. She started reading the entries, a mix of doodles, random thoughts, and personal reflections. 

Some of the pages only had silly ramblings like how you noticed a game’s sale too late and had to pay 5 dollars more. Minejong giggled lightly but the adrenaline was still there. Her breathing became shallow, her gaze scanning the words on the page. As she flipped through the pages, she stumbled upon an entry that caught her off guard.

She raised her eyebrow as she started reading it: 

SATURDAY 21 OCTOBER, 2023 I’m pretty sure Minjeong is playing with my heart. She’s been acting a lot more touchy lately. She was hugging my arm, hugging me and constantly touching me. She hugged me before as well since we’re friends but it just feels different these days. It’s probably because I’m a boy and she’s a girl. Even if we’ve been friends for a long time, she’s too cute for me to ignore. I think I like her. My heart beats faster when she’s around. I get nervous and fidgety. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s quite weird.

Winter's cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and excitement. Her curiosity took over her, she had to know. She had to know more. 

TUESDAY 7 NOVEMBER, 2023 I almost had a heart attack when I saw Minjeong with someone else. They were acting so friendly and I just felt my heart shrink. I’m not attractive compared to them. Maybe I should go to the gym. But that wouldn’t change my face, would it? Dear Diary, I really really like her.

“Wait, this is all about me?” Minjeong whispered to herself. She skimmed through the stupid entries and found even more pages about herself. She covered her mouth, blushing madly. “Oh my… I had no idea.” She couldn’t help but smile and continue flipping through the pages.

TUESDAY 14 NOVEMBER, 2023 Minjeong is back at it again. I’ve met her eyes a couple of times today and it was simply enchanting. The way her face lit up when our eyes connected mate my heart skipped a beat. She looks honest. Happy and amazing. I wish I could see her eyes every day, see every feeling in her pupils, knowing she wouldn’t be afraid to hide anything from me. Of course, I’d do the same. Minjeong is already a great friend, she’d be a great girlfriend as well. I thought about confessing for the first time. It was really a stupid thought. There is no way someone like her would accept me. I’m just a bum. I don’t even like myself, why would she? Eventually, someone will come and take her away, I just have to accept it. I love you, Minjeong.

WEDNESDAY 22 NOVEMBER, 2023 Am I a pervert for looking at Minjeong’s legs? My eyes were glued to her thighs. Maybe for a couple of minutes. Yeah, that’s definitely too much.

Minjeong glanced down at her shorts and bear legs and suddenly she felt too exposed. She regretted wearing such revealing clothes.

MONDAY 27 NOVEMBER, 2023 I want to love Minjeong properly. She’s such a perfect girl. I want her to feel loved. I’d cuddle and hug her a lot if she was my girlfriend. I daydreamed in class instead of listening to the literature lesson and this thought came to me: Minjeong backhugging me. That’s it. That’s the thought. It was enough to make me a blushing mess. Dear Diary, I have a problem.

Minjeong didn’t feel exposed anymore, she just felt warm and flustered. “You silly…” Minjeong said. She glanced around, making sure no one was watching, then hugged the diary close to her chest. “I never knew you felt this way…”

Fearing that you might be coming back, Minjeong thought that she had read enough and it was time to put it away. She just stood up and was about to put the diary back on the desk when a piece of paper fell out. It looked like it was sandwiched between the hardcover and the last page. She picked it up from the ground and read it.

BUCKET LIST Go on a date with Minjeong (skating?) Watch the starry sky Touch Minjeong’s cheeks Top marks Try skiing Confess Kiss MinHold Minjeong’s hand

Minjeong didn’t have the time to put it away when she heard your steps. She just stuffed the diary under the books and kept the paper in her pocket.

Minejong quickly recollected herself. She straightened out the few messy strands and the wrinkled clothes. She took a deep breath and shook off the agitation, anything could have been suspicious in your eyes. You weren’t dumb—although you weren’t exactly smart either—so Minjeong had to be extra careful. That said, she had to think of a way to put the little paper back in place because surely you would have noticed the next time you were going to write about how fantastic the latest wrestling match you watched was.

“Here you go,” you said, throwing Minjeong the box of pepero. “You had me looking everywhere for those… fortunately they were still good.”

Minjeong smiled, picking up the box from her lap, a natural grin on her small lips. “Thank you, you’re amazing.”

You had no words to reply but only another smile. You exhaled, letting your body drop lifeless on the bed, beside your friend. The episode was still at the 26:56 mark, and you were recollecting what happened previous to the still frame.

“Oh, by the way, I also got a bag of chocolates,” you said. You took the plastic bag you left on the corner of the folded covers. It was full of those little bite-sized chocolates you’d buy to decorate your tables in the living room when someone was coming over during the winter; or for a bunch of kids. But you got the smaller version, which also cost a couple of bucks more because it was of “fine quality”.

“No way!” she said, letting go of the pepero, forgotten like it never meant anything to her. You looked at the Oreo-looking box and blinked a few times. Why did it feel so relatable?

“You know I love chocolate!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I bought it,” you said. 

When you pressed the space bar on your laptop and the episode restarted, the room fell into a comfortable silence. You could only hear the dialogues coming from the speakers and Minjeong cutely munching on her peperos. You were grinning widely, having more fun staring at the hamster beside you than the scenes on the screen themselves.

Minjeong on the other hand, wasn’t exactly happy. Sure, the joy from her discovery was still lingering in her mind but so was the shock. The crunchy sticks of chocolate and biscuit took the roles of her nails, on which she nervously munched without stop, box after box. She would steal glances at you from time to time, and seeing you smile so happily, laughing and passionately talking to her, made her feel things she had never felt before.

She wasn’t sure if it was indigestion or butterflies in her stomach, but the thing was, Minjeong couldn’t focus on the screen at all. Her mind was still processing the revelations from the secret diary, she tried to act nonchalant, and fortunately, you couldn’t see her well, but her cheeks were betraying a faint blush.

“The cat is so round, it looks like a bag of potatoes, don’t you think?” you laughed.

“Y-yeah,” she whispered. Winter cleared her throat, “So, what do you think will happen next in the drama?”

“What do you mean? They’re like—they’re gonna kiss. Look at the romantic tension. I bet it’s gonna be a cliffhanger.”

“Right, right…” Minjeong continued to stare at the screen. Didn’t the protagonists kinda look like you and her…? She swore they were very similar at that moment. Somehow she could see herself in the shoes of the girl, while you could have been the protagonist, with that manly shoulders and features—ehem—you had the same eyes. Yes, that’s exactly what Minjeong was thinking, or at least, that’s what she wanted to think.

The protagonists, Ji-hoon and Soo-mi, stood close, their eyes filled with emotions, concealed, to the point of overflowing. Just like her and you.  Ji-hoon tenderly reached out, cupping Soo-mi's face in his hands. With a soft smile, he gently brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead, his touch lingering. His fingers looked very gentle, you always have been gentle too, maybe if it was you doing, it would feel… 

“Minjeong.”

“What?!” The girl squirmed lightly, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly self-aware. The romantic scene felt really closer than usual and her facade was slowly falling.

“I think it’s about to happen,” you said, still keeping your eyes attached to the screen. “They’re gonna kiss, I feel it.”

“Uh,” Minjeong started, terribly awkward. “These romantic scenes are always so... uh, intense, right?

“What do you…” you turned around and saw her heated cheeks. You looked at her and raised an eyebrow. The corner of her mouth twitched. “You're blushing, Minjeong. Are you sure you're okay?”

“Me? Blushing?” she fumbled. “No, I'm perfectly fine. It's just... you know, the drama.”

On the screen, the air crackled with tension as Ji-hoon kept cupping Soo-mi's face, his eyes searching hers for consent. Without words, their lips finally met in a tender yet passionate kiss. Time seemed to stand still as the world faded away, leaving only the sweet symphony of their hearts and the intoxicating warmth of the embrace.

Minjeong was watching everything but the kiss. 

“You're not usually this flustered,” you observed. Minjeong’s behavior was really weird. You looked back at the screen and it all looked normal. They were in their slowed-down shot with the ballad in the background.

“Yeah, well, it's just a really good episode,” she said, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You tried to look at her by bending down and tilting your head but likewise, she turned around to avoid you. It looked strange but you just continued to watch the drama, accepting her answer.

As the episode concluded, Minjeong heaved a silent sigh of relief. She attempted to divert attention by reaching for more snacks, hoping to distract both herself and you from the lingering awkwardness.

You continue to the next episode. 

You turned around and tried to get one of the snacks that were on her side. As you stretched, your hand brushed against Minjeong’s thigh. At the touch, she jolted with a loud gasp. It was like you sent a shock through her body.

“Oops, sorry about that,” you said apologetically, retrieving the box to your side.

“N-no problem at all,” she stammered.

You continued to watch without thinking much of it but Minjeong was completely on the edge. When you shifted and adjusted yourself, your leg would accidentally brush against hers. Or when you wanted to take the water bottle and you’d hug her shoulder by mistake. The blush on her cheeks continued to grow and she started to want to get out of there.

Your touches continued, all the ones that you were both accustomed to before, now sent a ripple of flustered nerves through Minjeong. 

Eventually, the episodes ended and you came to the end of the drama. Minjeong’s nerves finally relaxed. You helped her gather her things and after chatting for a while, you bid her goodbye. You insisted on bringing her home, especially since it was quite late but she didn’t want to hear any of it and ran outside.

Minjeong slept well that night. She had all sorts of dreams and fantasies—was someone in the hallway, they’d think an actress was rehearsing for her future role. When she woke up, however, it was another story. Thanks to the newly found clarity of mind, the realization hit her harder than ever.

You liked her.

You! You.

You liked her.

Minjeong sighed and sat up on the bed.

She liked you.

Yes, she.

She liked you.

Now she had two options: either ignore it, act like nothing happened, which was both the easiest and hardest choice she could take; or deal with it. Minjeong didn’t like the idea of ignoring what she found. It would be like playing with your feelings. Really, you confessed indirectly, she has read all of your honest words, letter by letter, and now knew all of your feelings. You confessed to her. 

But she also didn’t want to talk to you about it. Because, well, it was embarrassing. 

What if you didn’t feel ready for a relationship? Maybe your journal was an outlet for your stress where you poured out all of your feelings knowing full well you couldn’t be with her.

Maybe it wasn’t a journal, maybe it was a fictional diary that you were writing. Like some sort of diary of a wimpy kid but for lovers.

Maybe you were writing about another girl. You knew that someone could have found your diary, just like Minjeong did, so you used another name. You could have been in some sort of Romeo and Juliet type of affair and the repercussions could have been deadly.

Minjeong was just making stuff up at this point. Let’s face it, you were just a normal person and what she read were real journal entries. 

She sighed heavily. “Why?! Why did I…” she yelled. Minjeong closed her eyes and remembered your words—how sweet they were, how honest and meaningful—then shook her head. “It’s better this way.”

The piece of paper was still on the desk, crumbled and waiting. She got up and held it in her hand, skimming through your bucket list again.

BUCKET LIST Go on a date with Minjeong (skating?) Watch the starry sky Touch Minjeong’s cheeks Try skiing Top marks Confess Kiss MinHold Minjeong’s hand

She just ignored your last desire—the crossed-out line was still pretty readable but it was too embarrassing right now. You have helped her a lot until now, making most of the dreams from her bucket list come true. Yet, she has never had the chance to pay you back. Minjeong thought carefully and realized that this was the perfect occasion. She liked you so she would have liked it too and if you didn’t want to get into a relationship with her, at least she could fulfill a couple of your desires.

Minjeong clutched the paper with determinatione; it was her mission.

Objective 1: Secure the date

When Minjeong made up her mind and got up, two steps from the door of the room, she realized one thing: she had never been on a date. Such a pretty girl like Minjeong should have been asked out at least ten times by now. Especially since she wasn’t exactly shy or intimidating. And truly she had been asked out, but she never accepted. She’d say she had to focus on her studies, or that she wasn’t ready, or that it wasn’t the age for that kind of thing.

Minjeong turned while holding her chin, her eyebrow furrowed in deep thought. She had a location—the skating ring—that was a starter. But now, what do you do on a date? Minjeong tried to recall all the dramas she had watched: maybe she’d get some sort of idea. She has watched plenty of shows, surely there was something useful.

Characters would usually kiss each other ‘accidentally’ for example. Minjeong tried to imagine the scene: you and her walking in the frozen streets, her tripping and falling in your arms… some kids bumping into you, your lips brushing against her in a split second. Minejong started to blush terribly. “No, no, no, that’s not good,” she shook her head to get the thought out of her mind.

She was definitely overthinking this. You probably didn’t know any better than her and couples don’t really prepare that much before a date—it had to be natural. Minjeong decided to call you. There was a skating ring opened in the city during that period so that was the right occasion. 

She gripped her phone, inhaled and exhaled. “Just hanging out,” she pointed out. “That’s right, don’t stress Minjeong, it’s just a hangout between friends.” 

After Minjeong decided what to say and prepared all the possible dialogue options, which took about half an hour, she dialed your number and called. She couldn’t even calm her mind that you already picked up.

“Hello?” you asked.

“Hey,” Minjeong answered.

“Oh, Minjeong, how are you? Why are you calling me?”

“Well, I’ve got an idea for you.”

“Shoot.”

Minjeong swallowed her saliva. “How about we go skating at the ice rink? They opened it in the city center, I think it would be fun.”

“Skating, huh? Uhm… well, I’ve been thinking about it,” you said, you’ve been really thinking about it. It was such a weird coincidence that Minjeong asked you about it. However, “I haven’t done that in ages. Are you sure I won’t end up flat on my back?” You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of your crush.

Minjeong laughed jokingly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back… or, well, I’ve got your back if you do fall. But trust me, you’ll learn pretty quick.”

“Sounds tempting, but I’m not really convinced.”

“Come on, we’ll have fun. They also sell hot chocolate and crepes. I’ll buy it for you if you come!”

“Free food? Okay, you’ve convinced me. When do you wanna see each other?”

“How about Saturday? We should both be free.”

“Sounds good. Alright, thanks, see ya.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as she hung up, Minjeong started jumping around like a maniac. She felt like she was a kid again, so excited and happy. She just forgot to tell you at what time to come. Whatever. She could have texted the time later. Plans were just going as planned.

The plans did not go as planned.

Objective 2: Find a replacement

Minjeong spent her whole morning preparing for the date. She looked at all the possible cafés and restaurants and food places you two could go to in case you got hungry. Then she looked at all the possible outfits she had in her wardrobe. She called her friend, Karina to help her decide the clothes. They ended up giggling and talking for about 5 hours about Minjeong’s story with you and Karina’s love interest. 

In the end, they decided to go for the simplest sweater and pants they could find. It was to “not hide Minjeong’s natural beauty” as Karina put it. Whatever that meant.

You met right at the entrance of the city. You were already waiting there. 

You found it hard to recognize Minjeong. She was bundled up in a big cozy scarf, a huge hat, and big gloves. The jacket was also quite thick, making her look like a snowman. You knew Karina didn’t let her go out of the house before dressing her up properly. You smiled, she looked very cute.

The both of you made your way to the ice ring talking about uni, friends, work, and so on. Being with Minjeong was always a pleasure as you could confide in each other about whatever problem or worry you had.

Hand in hand, you scrolled through the city, the subtle crunch of snow beneath your feet providing a serene soundtrack. There were a lot of people on the street. You came early but the sky was already starting to darken. 

When you reached the ice rink, you gulped. Minjeong instead, was extremely excited. You paid for the skate shoes, slipped them in, and stepped on the ice. 

The ice beneath your skates glistened brightly, it felt like ice, ready to crack, ready to swallow you in case you fell and gave in to the demons of the cold. Minjeong was still excited. She was already laughing while looking at the small kids tumble down the ice like bowling pins. 

Wrapped in the warmth of your scarf and being alongside Minjeong, provided you enough confidence and comfort to aid your attempt. You stepped slowly, your legs shaking. Your friend held your hand and guided you through the edge of the ring until you found the right rhythm to continue on your own.

Your confidence grew, maybe too much, and you tried to make a tight turn and slipped. Your heart skipped a beat and your life flashed before your eyes. Fortunately Minjeong, with lighting reflexes, reached out and grabbed you. 

“Oh my god, thank you Minjeong, you saved my life.”

“Be more careful!” she laughed.

After the incident, you started to be more careful and continued skating. 

At one point, tiny snowflakes began to fall down the sky, soft and gentle. Both you and Minjeong started smiling brightly, thinking it looked like a scene from a romance movie. It really looked like what you’ve always dreamt of, skating with Minjeong under the snow.

The snowfall intensified, turning the ice rink into a snowy spectacle. It added a layer of magic to their already enchanting evening, and you continued to skate with carefree joy, leaving behind a trail of swirling snowflakes. However, as the snowfall grew heavier, the twinkling lights began to fade, and a voice over the speakers announced the temporary closure of the rink for safety reasons.

Minjeong panicked. She couldn’t end the date this way. 

“Isn’t that a shame?” you said, walking away from the ice ring. “Well, I still had fun nonetheless, thank you for today, Minjeong.”

“Wait, wait,” she interrupted you. “Uhm, it’s still pretty early, wanna go back to my place?”

“Heh? Well, why not? Wanna order out?”

“Yeah, that’s fine by me.”

“Then let’s go.” Good job, Minjeong.

Objective 3: Look at the sky

You entered the pitch-black living room and turned on the lights. The room was well-lighted but still felt small and comfy, it probably was the darkness from outside the window. You glanced at Minjeong as she folded a blanket and tossed it over the back of the sofa. The air held a chill, a reminder that winter had firmly settled outside the confines of your makeshift refuge. 

She nonchalantly dropped a stack of DVDs onto the coffee table, the worn covers hinting at countless movie nights spent in this room. Minjeong leaned over the desk, planting her hands on the edge. Minjeong's gaze shifted to you, What do you feel like watching?"

I shrugged, my gaze scanning the room as if the answer lay hidden in the faded wallpaper. "Anything. Surprise me." She picked a random DVD, its label scratched and worn. She put the disc into the blueray reader and grabbed the remote. The sofa creaked as Minjeong plopped down, patting the cushion next to her. "Grab a blanket. It's gonna get colder."

You complied, dragging a fuzzy throw from the back of a nearby chair. You two draped yourselves in layers of warmth, settling into the groove of the well-worn sofa cushions. The silence enveloped you, a familiar companion that required no words.

Halfway through the movie, however, Minjeong looked at the sky: it stopped snowing. It was like the snow had purged all the previous filth between the clouds and smog and left it a pure black, only decorated by the glowing stars. Minjeong kept slapping at your leg and pointing at the sky until you turned around and the view stunned you.

Objective 4: Hold that hand

“Wow…” your friend whispered.

“Yep,” you said back. The two of you continued to watch the sky, while Kung Fu Panda 2 was becoming noise in the background and your conversation shifted to the sight. You raised an arm, pointing at the bright dots.

“You know, the color of a star indicates its temperature,” you said. “Hotter stars appear blue or white, while cooler ones look red.”

“How is it red if it’s colder?” Minjeong said, puzzled.

“It’s about the waves of light emitted. To put it simply, cooler stars emit less blue light so they look red.”

Minjeong smiled, “That's interesting, but you know, in astrology, stars, and their positions also play a significant role. I'm a Capricorn, ruled by Saturn, and it says a lot about my personality.”

As soon as you heard the word ‘astrology’ you sighed heavily and rolled your eyes, sliding down the sofa. Minjeong has already filled your head with that stuff to the brim. Whenever she had time or whenever she bought a magazine from the news kiosk, she’d start reading the entire thing of the signs, you don’t even remember what it was called.

“Astrology, Minjeong? Seriously?”

Your friend furrowed her eyebrows from annoyance and spoke defensively, “What? It's fascinating! Capricorns are disciplined, ambitious, and practical. I mean, doesn't that sound like me?”

“Disciplined? Sure. But practical?” you laughed. “You're the one who believes in star signs.”

“Well, you're just a typical Capricorn skeptic. But I bet you secretly find it intriguing.”

You chuckled and shook your head. You two laughed it off and the silence resumed. After a brief moment, where your breaths signed the passing of time, you noticed Minjeong’s glow in the dark. Your heart fluttered as you watched her profile against the moonlight. Sometimes you forget your true feelings for your friend, but they always come back. 

You sighed while turning back to the sky. “It's such a beautiful night, isn't it?” you whispered, masking the true meaning of your words because you weren’t really talking about the night. Both of you talked in codes, not on purpose but none of you could be honest. You were too scared of her possible answer and Minjeong was too scared to lose you.

“Yeah, it is,” she said softly. As you continued stargazing in comfortable silence, her mind swirled with a mixture of emotions. The recent revelations from your secret diary still lingered in her thoughts, and her unspoken feelings were twisting and turning inside her. 

Her hand slowly crept up near you, a subconscious action maybe, a planned incident perhaps; but it was the perfect occasion. You felt her touch and didn’t think twice to hold her hand. The initial contact, when your fingers intertwine, sends a wave of warmth through you. The touch is surprisingly intimate, it felt like a bridge between Minjeong and you. In a way, her feelings were coursing through you.

Objective 5: Spill it out

“Today was perfect,” you say. Minjeong silently watches you with a soft smile. “You know, I’ve always been dreaming of this moment. To watch the stars with you…” your air suddenly blocked in your throat, “Well, I—” “I already know.”

“What?”

“I already knew it. That you wanted to watch the stars—and that you wanted to go skating… with me.”

You opened your mouth to ask her how but Minjeong was faster and pulled out the crumbled piece of paper, the title ‘BUCKET LIST’ was still visible. You panicked, your eyes flicking between her stupidly satisfied smile and your embarrassing, horribly written list of desires.

You gulped and started talking, stuttering, mumbling every word, “S-so did you see the di-diary?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god… I wanna die.”

“No, wait—”

“Forget everything Minjeong, no, well, you obviously can’t,” you blurted out, you didn’t know what to say anymore. “I’m sorry you had to read that. It was gross. I’m going to move out of the country, buy tickets, pack things, you’ll forget about me and I’ll start my new life—”

“I like you too!”

“What did you just say?” you stopped and looked at her with wide eyes.

Minjeong's admission hung in the air, and for a moment, the only sound between you two was the soft rustling of the crumpled bucket list paper in her hands. Your eyes widened, locked onto hers, searching for any sign of jest or misdirection, but all you found was true sincerity. Her pupils stared at you, eagerly waiting for your answer.

"You... you like me too?" you stammered, hesitant and scared that you might have heard the wrong words.

Minjeong nodded, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Yes. I like you. I read your list, and it wasn't gross. It was... endearing. Honestly, it made my heart race a little."

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, a mixture of relief and newfound anxiety. "I thought I'd scared you away with that stuff."

Minjeong chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Not at all. It made me realize we share the same dreams, the same desires. I've been wanting to do those things too, you know?"

The weight of uncertainty lifted, replaced by a warmth that settled deep within. You felt a connection, a shared vulnerability that made the revelation less daunting. "So... what does this mean?" you asked, your voice soft.

She leaned in, her gaze unwavering. "It means we don't have to dream about those things anymore. We can make them happen together."

A grin broke across your face, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. "Yeah, together."

Minjeong's hand found yours, and this time, it wasn't just for a casual touch but a deliberate, reassuring connection. The stars above seemed to twinkle in approval as you both sat there, hand in hand, in the quiet realization that your shared dreams weren't just fantasies on a crumpled piece of paper anymore—they were possibilities waiting to unfold.

“There’s still a last wish on that list I can fulfill…” Minjeong whispered. She took a deep breath and went for it. 

She kissed you.

Minjeong's eyes, soft and inviting, met yours, and at that moment, the world outside faded into insignificance. 

"I've been wanting to do this," Minjeong whispered, her voice a delicate murmur that hung in the space between you. Her fingers grazed the side of your face, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down your spine. The proximity between you became charged, the magnetic pull undeniable.

You didn't need words. The unspoken agreement lingered in the air, and with a gentle tilt of her head, Minjeong closed the distance. The first brush of her lips against yours felt like the tentative caress of a butterfly's wings, a delicate exploration that spoke volumes. It was a moment of hesitancy and boldness, a dance between vulnerability and longing.

You didn’t say anything else, the look in your and her eyes understood each other perfectly and you kissed again. The first one was a quick peck, a mix of fear and sudden braveness. The second one was the overflow of your feelings, a long and deep kiss, a slow fusion of warmth and connection. 

The world outside might have continued its relentless pace, but within the embrace of that kiss, time became elastic, bending to the rhythm of your shared heartbeat. It was a stolen moment, a stolen kiss, and yet, it felt like something long overdue, as if the universe itself had conspired to bring your lips together in this tender collision.

When the kiss finally broke, your lips naturally curled into a large smile while she hid under the blanket from the embarrassment. Minjeong emerged only a moment later, red and flustered. “Uhm, I wasn’t too bad, right? That was my first kiss…”

“It was my first too, and no, it wasn’t bad. It was amazing,” you said honestly. “I just like how I dreamed.”

Minjeong and you laughed together. This was just the start of the many more desires you two would fulfil together.

Mission completed

THE END

Written, 03 December 2023 - 14 December 2023

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Charcuterie

Part 1 | AO3 | *This is a story told in scenes and can be read in any order though is listed in chronological order on the masterlist.

<I know you still have it. Can you take the credit card and buy a bunch of cheeses, meats, fruits, and pick up some of those fancy ice cube trays you’ve been eyeing?

The message from Simon had you fighting back the urge to rip him a new asshole. You know he isn’t trying to be rude. The guys were due home after six weeks gone and Simon needed a few days to acclimate to the fact you were not one of the soldiers and would bitch him out if he tried to treat you as such. It didn’t help that your period was kicking you down every step it could find and then dragging you into the octagon by your hair to go ten rounds.

>Incorrect. I snapped that fucker in half because it made me nauseous to have a black card in my wallet when I couldn’t afford to fill my tank.

Ten minutes pass before your phone dings with the message tone.

<You snapped a metal card in half?

>Yes. I was very determined.

You can feel the nose pinching from wherever Simon might be right now. He only did that move when exasperated. You watched John pull the same move about any number of minor annoyances.

John’s face appears on your phone for a video call within three breaths. Of course, they were talking about you.

Rolling your eyes and praying your eye doesn’t start twitching you answer the call. John is sporting a new bruise on his cheek and a split lip. You know better than to comment on it since the guys will let you look them all over when you get home.

“Hi, love. Can you do me a favor?”

Your tongue slides over your teeth behind your lip, the syrupy sweetness of his voice makes you want to reach through the phone and strangle him. Fuckers must not have deleted the period tracking app from Johnny’s phone like you demanded they did.

“What?” You ask brusquely.

“In my bedside drawer is a plain envelope with your name on it, inside is your copy of the card to the house fund. Can you take that and go buy whatever Simon already texted you and a snack for yourself?”

You can hear Johnny in the background asking to say hi and then getting promptly dragged away. From what you can see around John they are on a military base somewhere, the nondescript buildings in light beige and gray giving it away.

“Which bedside drawer John? All of your drawers can be reached from your bed.”

He had two and every time you visited his room to spend time with him or to simply sniff his pillows because you missed him you noticed the two nightstands and the massive dresser next to the bed.

Gary’s bark of a laugh reached you as John focused off-screen to glare at him.

John’s face softens when he turns back to look at you.

“The nightstand closest to the door, please.”

“Why have you been keeping a card for the house account from me? None of you let me pay anything into it.”

You weren’t bitter about that argument still. You weren’t.

He lets out a slow breath as he decides you won’t pick this fight back up now.

“I wasn’t keeping it from you. It only arrived before we left on this last job and I haven’t had a chance till now to tell you about it. But from what you did to the card from Simon it seems like a good thing I haven’t given it to you yet.” He looks at you with one brow cocked under his hat.

“Keep it up John and I will shrink all your hats one by one.”

The smile that broke across his face at your threat warmed you from the inside out.

“We love you, and we will be home by six. Be sure to stop by the pharmacy and get some painkillers for your cramps.”

With that, he ended the call.

“Fucker,” you mutter angrily to yourself as you stomp across the house and into John’s room. “Telling me what to do from across the country so I don’t bite him. Yes, I need pain meds and yes we are out. No excuse hang up the call instead of letting me yell at him like a man.”

Your angry tirade continued as you slid on your shoes and drove first to the pharmacy and then to the store. You bought two energy drinks to ensure you could survive until your guys got home and then spent an hour looking at cheese. Okay, more like an hour talking to the cheesemonger before getting yourself a couple of slices of Swiss and turkey to go along with the fancy cheeses you bought for the guys. The ice trays you did not need to buy this trip since you had already bought some two weeks ago to make your at-home drinks more fun.

At 5:30 the cheese tray sat ready, the ice had fully frozen, and all of the guy’s preferred alcohol had been pulled from the liquor cabinet. Cracking open your energy drink you transferred it into a new glass and sat down to wait for them. They would be early. John seemed to forget that when they were all motivated to get home they moved faster. Fifteen minutes earlier than John’s prediction and they rolled in the door. You rose to meet them, flurries of kisses and hugs as they all dispersed to their rooms to change and come back to the kitchen for food.

Gary came back first, wrapping himself around you like if he squeezed just right he could absorb you. You smiled and leaned into the love, having missed them tremendously while they were gone.

“You come back whole?”

He hums in confirmation and then is peeled off of you as Kyle replaces him in your embrace. Gary doesn’t fight it; instead, he grabs a plate and piles it high with the many options you grabbed beyond cheese and meat. This process is repeated until all of your men have been grounded in your presence and gorge themselves on food.

Finally able to move freely again you grab your own plate from the fridge and sit down at the table with them.

Johnny pokes at your plate.

“What’s this now?”

“I didn’t want fancy cheese so I bought some normal cheese,” you shrug as layer a cracker, cheese, and a bit of your turkey to pop into your mouth.

His hand sneaks forward to try and steal one for himself but you smack the back of his fingers before he can touch your plate. With one hand over your mouth, brows pulled together in frustration, and an angry finger pointed his way, Johnny gets the point.

Swallowing hard to clear your mouth you address him.

“If you don’t want fancy cheese next time don’t let Simon be in charge of texting me. You know he always wants the good stuff,” you finish your sentence with a sip from your glass. “Now if no one else needs me I am going to go curl up and die.”

Kyle opens his mouth to add something but you speak over his objections.

“I will lay down in John’s bed so everyone can fit in for a cuddle.”

John and Simon share a smile before looking back at you.

Your loves were home, and with them came the constant evolving chaos that was the home you shared.

Masterlist | Fallen Angel Masterlist

@lilynotdilly

[etherrreal]

“when they’re feeling insecure”

Pairing: atsumu x reader; kita x reader; suna x reader Genre: reverse comfort-fluff; drabbles & headcanons WC: 5.169 Warnings: N/A A/N: thanks for the request! this is actually the first piece we’ve worked on together so we’re excited for you all to see it! enjoy :) -Dawn & Luna

since you and Atsumu tended to be strapped on time to spend with each other—with you working full-time and him being a national volleyball player—you liked to meet up with him after practice sometimes so you can pick up some food and get some quality time together

he was always taking his sweet time to get showered and ready to go, so you got to bond with some of his teammates, his captain Meian especially

when you found out you both loved the same show, every week, the day after the show aired, you got to practice a bit earlier so you and him had time to talk about the newest episode

Atsumu watched every week as you barely gave him a wave when you entered the gym those days, bee-lining straight to Meian and launching into animated conversation about your show

he had tried many times to sit down to watch it with you, but each time, about 15 minutes into the show, he found himself disinterested and distracted by his phone

he knew that never bothered you—”we don’t have to have the same interests,” you would tell him—but, week by week, as he observed you light up those days you walked into the gym to talk with Meian, he began to feel like maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough to get into your interests like you do for him

and he’d be damned if big bicep Meian would make you laugh more than he did

It’s Friday, you’re absolutely exhausted from work, and you’re ready to wash the grime of the day away in the hottest shower imaginable. You’re a little thrown off when you walk in the house and hear the T.V. playing in the living room, familiar voices from your favorite show coming from the room. You don’t remember leaving it on before you left, so you creep into the room slowly, peering around the corner to see a mop of blond hair leaning against the back of the couch.

“What are you doing?”

Atsumu snorts himself awake at the sound of your voice, eyes bleary as he tries to gather himself, gaze darting between you and the screen.

“Oh, me? Just catching up on your show.” He’s back to lounging against the arm of the couch, remote in hand gesturing to the screen. “It’s the part where that one girl, uh, Ashley is talkin’ to her boyfriend right now about how they’re going to move in together soon.” 

“Okay, first of all, that’s not her name.” You set your bag down next to the couch, throwing yourself down onto the cushion next to him. “Second, that’s her mortal enemy, and I’m pretty sure they’re talking about how she hopes he bites the dust on their next mission.” 

Atsumu stares at the screen, paying attention to the dialogue for probably the first time since turning it on. “Oh.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his cluelessness. “I’ve already told you, ‘Tsumu, you don’t have to like the same things that I do just because we’re dating. Just like I don’t like volleyball that much, you don’t have to like my show as much as I do.”

He gasps, scandalized. “You don’t like volleyball?!”

“Not as much as you do, dummy. That’s my point! We’re two separate people with separate interests, and that’s okay.”

“Yeah, but…” You don’t hear the rest of his statement as he mumbles it, shrinking into himself with arms crossed and chin buried into his chest. 

“You gotta speak up, babe. I couldn’t catch that.”

He sighs heavily, arms still crossed, now with a comically deep frown on his face. “But you and Meian are always talkin’ and laughin’ together at practice when you should be doing that with me, your boyfriend!”

“Oooh, come here, my dear sweet Atsumu.” He doesn’t hesitate to accept your invitation, nearly knocking the wind out of you as he wraps his arms around your torso, smushing his cheek against your chest. “You know I love you dearly. But trying to talk to you about my show is like talking to a brick wall, and I say that with all the love in the world. Now I finally have someone that I can talk to about my show, so you don’t have to hear me drone on.”

He grumbles. “I guess. But can’t you find someone else less… beefy to talk to about it with?”

You pause, trying to sift through his lot of friends for someone who doesn’t fit that bill. “Babe. All of your friends are beefy, so it wouldn’t even matter if there was someone else there that I can talk to about it. Besides, his appearance doesn’t even matter. It’s nothing more than some friendly chatter, alright?”

“Alright.” You press a kiss to the top of his head before he whines, tilting his head all the way up to offer his lips to you so you can give him a proper kiss. “...Just wish you’d be less happy about it.”

you were invited to a night out at a bar with some old friends from high school, and decided to drag Kita along for the ride to introduce him to the ol’ gang

drinks were being served, shots were being had, and everyone was getting along swimmingly

Kita, who’d been nursing a bottle of water in preparation for work the next day, stayed by your side the whole night, smiling as you and your friends swapped stories and dutifully holding your things when they dragged you off to the dancefloor

he was at the bar getting you another drink when your friend Aina approached, leaning against the bar

“I like you for them,” she announced, words slurring. “They need someone plain like you to balance them out.”

he knew she didn’t mean it as an insult, but the word “plain” punched him right in the gut, insecurity washing over him as he realized it was absolutely true

you were the daring, adventurous type, always ready to jump right into things headfirst, while Kita preferred a steadier approach

normally this wasn’t a problem for the two of you, but suddenly Kita couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were getting bored with him

it didn’t help that you had to cut your night short because of Kita’s early job, which consumed him with guilt as he watched you hug everyone goodbye, telling them you’d meet again at some point

the ride home was quiet as Kita thought about the ways he could be the fun, spontaneous man you deserved

the next day, he showed up at your door and invited you on an impromptu picnic date in the park, which you were more than happy to agree to

he was so ready to give you an amazing date and prove to you that he was more than just your plain boyfriend, but it seemed that the universe had other plans, as what was supposed to be your perfect and fun day quickly transformed into a disaster

at first, everything started off pretty smoothly, until Kita realized he forgot to bring a blanket, and the two of you were forced to sit on the wet, muddy grass

then when he opened the basket, he realized all the drinks had spilled on the drive over, effectively ruining all of the food he packed

you took it all in stride, reassuring him it could’ve happened to anyone, and ended up grabbing some takoyaki from a nearby food stand

for a moment Kita thought things were finally looking up, until an unleashed dog bounded towards you and knocked the takoyaki straight out of your hand and onto the ground, leaving the two of you to share whatever was left of his

he was so sure that it couldn’t get any worse, and then it started to rain– and not just a little drizzle, either, but a huge downpour that sent the two of you and the rest of your fellow park-goers scrambling for cover

and just to add insult to injury, his car ended up getting a flat only five minutes into the drive home, leaving him with no choice but to pull over and call for help, a shitty ending to an even shittier day

Kita’s not usually the type to believe that the universe is working against him –he prefers leaving those kinds of dramatics to the likes of Atsumu– but after the day he’s had, he’s starting to wonder.

His plan to prove to both you and himself that he could be an exciting, spontaneous, and definitely not plain boyfriend had started off decently enough. He showed up at your place with a nervous heart and a picnic basket in hand, announcing only somewhat shakily that he’d be stealing you for the day, whisking you off on an impromptu picnic date.

You’d had no prior warning, hence the whole spontaneous thing, but you went along with it easily enough, more than willing to spend a little extra time with your boyfriend. You threw on the quickest presentable outfit you could find and then you were off, eager to see where the day –and Kita– would take you. You ended up driving out to a flower field in the park, and it was absolutely wonderful.

For the first five minutes, at least.

Then it all went to shit.

Now the two of you are sitting in his car, soaked to the bone as you wait for a tow truck, and Kita is trying his very best not to let on how utterly defeated and pathetic he feels. He thinks the only thing keeping him from sulking outright is the fact that you’re still holding his hand, and even then, he can’t stop the frown that forms on his face.

“I’m so sorry about today,” he starts lamely, breaking the silence, voice shakier than he’s used to. He knows it’s not nearly enough to make up for the complete and utter catastrophe that your date turned into, but he supposes it’s a good enough place to start. “I know it wasn’t what you were expectin’ when I told you I’d be takin’ you out for a romantic picnic in the park. Hell, it wasn’t what I was expectin’, either.”

“Well, it was definitely an adventure, that’s for sure,” you say, in that carefree and teasing way of yours. Then you bring his hand closer to you and press your lips to the back of his palm, a playful but genuine smile tugging at your lips. “Still, I’m glad I came. I had a really good time today, Shin.”

Kita blinks, eyes wide as he stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “You did?”

“Of course I did. I was with you. I always have a good time when I’m with you.” You say it casually, easily, like it’s just that simple, and when he continues to gape at you, you raise an eyebrow. “What? Why do you look so surprised?”

“That’s because I am surprised. Today was a disaster, darlin’. It was the opposite of everythin’ that I wanted it to be.”

“Well, what did you want it to be?”

“Somethin’ good and excitin’ that you could enjoy the way you deserve.” He looks away, unable to meet your eyes as his gaze drifts to your intertwined hands, voice soft and quiet, defeated. “Somethin’ to show you that I could be fun and spontaneous, and not just the borin’ and plain boyfriend you’ve been stuck with.”

“Woah, wait, boring and plain? Stuck with?” you repeat, incredulous, brows furrowing as your lips curve into a frown of their own. “What are you talking about, Shin? You’re sure as hell not just someone I’m stuck with– where’s all of this even coming from?”

Despite himself, he hesitates. The last thing he wants to do is weigh you down with his insecurities, but Kita has never lied to you before, and he certainly doesn’t plan on starting now.

That’s when he tells about everything that happened last night, about Aina’s off-handed comment and about all the doubts and insecurities that’d been unearthed as a result. He tells you about the plan he made, the one he wanted so badly to be enough to prove to you that he could be the man you want, the man you deserve.

“I’m so sorry that happened, Shin,” is the first thing you say when he’s finished speaking, genuine and apologetic as you give his hand a comforting squeeze. “I know she was drunk, but Aina had no right to say that to you, and I’ll be telling her as much first thing tomorrow.”

“S’alright. I know she didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” Kita says, squeezing your hand back. “Still, it got me thinkin’, y’know? About you and me, and the fact that we’re so different. I mean, you– you’re so bright and darin’ and fearless and I’m just– I’m not.”

“So? I like you for you, Shin. I always have. And I especially like how different we both are.”

“I know. I do, too, I just– sometimes I just can’t help but feel like I’m borin’ you. Like you’re settlin’ for me. And I’m not sayin’ that I think you don’t love me, ‘cuz I know you do, I just–” He gives a shaky exhale and runs his free hand through his hair, faltering a little, before forcing himself to continue, though he still can’t quite meet your eyes. “I guess it’s just hard for me to make sense of the thought of someone as amazin’ and full of life as you wantin’ to be with someone as simple as me.”

The confession is raw and vulnerable, the way Kita’s only ever allowed himself to be around you. It softens you, makes you release his hand in favor of cupping his face, a silent plea to get him to look at you. And though he still feels pretty pathetic about everything, he doesn’t deny you, lifting his gaze to meet yours and finding himself stunned by the open affection in your eyes, the undeniable love he’s not sure he’ll ever get enough of.

“Oh, Shinsuke, baby, you’re not simple.” Your words, like your hands on his face, are gentle but firm, and when he shoots you a doubtful look, you lean closer and insist, “You’re not. You’re hardworking and dedicated, not to mention generous and so, so kind. You take care of me and make me laugh, and you’re always there to listen to me and support me, no matter how stubborn I am or how crazy my ideas get. You’re everything I want, not to mention everything I need. You make me better, and I love you, just the way you are.”

It’s strange, Kita thinks, how quickly your words ease the uncertainty and doubt that’d been weighing on his chest, how effortlessly your touch soothes him. There’s so much he wants to say to you. He wants to tell you how grateful he is for you, how much your words mean to him. Mostly, he wants to tell you that he loves you.

But then you tug his face towards you, closing the distance between you and pressing your lips firmly against his, and he realizes he doesn’t have to, because you already know. You feel it in the way he wraps his arms around you to pull you closer, in the way one of his hands tangles in your hair. Still, he does his best to prove it to you, anyway, deepening the kiss with a drag of his tongue across your lips and a muffled groan that has you scraping your nails against his scalp.

You’re both breathless when you pull away, just enough so that you can lean your forehead against his, all gentle comfort and soft affection.

“So get the thought of you being the person I settled for out of your pretty little head,” you say firmly, lightly tugging on his hair for good measure, “because you’re not. You’re the person I chose, the one I plan to continue choosing for a long, long time. Have I made myself clear?”

And Kita can only smile at you, turning his face to place a gentle kiss to the inside of your palm, all of his previous anxieties and insecurities forgotten.

“Crystal, darlin’.”

you and Suna were at your cousin’s wedding, and you set off to grab some more drinks at the bar

Suna watched as you left—definitely checking out your ass—when he saw you get stopped by a guy, who put his hand hand on your arm and said something to you, and then suddenly, you were hugging

you were both so animated, so effortless, in your interactions, and Suna even saw you bust out laughing in a way you usually only do when he tells you the most god awful joke

Suna nudges your friend Aina who’s standing next to him, gesturing over to you both as he asks about who the guy is, thinking maybe he’s another cousin or something

“Oh, that’s her ex, Haru,” she explains, “They were friends all throughout childhood and even dated for a while in high school.”

this, of course, isn’t Suna’s first time hearing about your ex, seeing as the two of you have been dating long enough to have already swapped stories about previous breakups, but it is his first time seeing you and Haru interact in person

and while Suna already knows that the breakup was mutual and that you and Haru ended things pretty amicably, he’d be lying if he said seeing Haru act so familiar with you doesn’t bother him

still, Suna trusts you, and the last thing he’s going to do is make a scene at your cousin’s wedding, which is why he opts to ignore the interaction entirely, until one of the women standing nearby makes it impossible for him

the woman—maybe an aunt of yours—jumps in to add, “they were so cute, weren’t they? We were all so sure they were going to end up together. After all, they only broke up because they were heading off to different colleges.”

and if that doesn’t make him feel shitty enough, another woman, whom he quickly realizes is Haru’s mother, chimes in, “they would’ve been high school sweathearts, what’s more perfect than that! It’s too bad they had to break up.”

Aina freezes, panicked, as her gaze darts between him and the women nearby, like she’s debating whether or not she should say something, but Suna stops her with a shake of his head, brushing the whole thing off like it doesn’t bother him, even though it really does

Suna isn’t friends with any of his exes, so he doesn’t understand how two people who decided they couldn’t be together could act so natural and cheerful—and not deathly awkward—with one another years after the split

as much as he hates admitting it, you and Haru do look really good together, even if your interaction only ended up lasting a few minutes, and your family clearly still adores him, so much so that they invited him to your cousin’s wedding

it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they prefer him over Suna, and while normally Suna wouldn’t give a damn about any of that, he can’t help but wonder if you feel the same way, if seeing Haru tonight made you regret breaking up with him in the first place

the two of you were high school sweethearts, after all; how can Suna hope to compare to that?

it puts him in a sour mood for the rest of the night, one that lasts throughout the rest of the reception and continues on your drive home

“Are you okay, Rin?”

Suna barely spares you a glance when you speak, keeping his eyes planted firmly on the road in front of him. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been acting weird since the reception.”

“It’s nothing.” That’s a lie, of course, and you both know it. He’s been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you got in the car, the silence that’s settled between you nothing like the easy banter and teasing jokes you normally exchange on the way home. “I’m just tired.”

The rational part of him, the one he doesn’t always listen to, knows it isn’t fair for him to act this way. He’s being petty and immature, neither of which are reactions you deserve right now, but he can’t help it.

Being vulnerable has never been easy for Suna. It still isn’t, if he’s being honest, which is why, instead of talking to you about his feelings, he chooses to ignore them completely, burying them somewhere deep inside himself that even he can’t reach, despite the way his heart sinks and his hands tighten on the steering wheel the more he thinks about what your family said.

He doesn’t have to look at you to know that you’re frowning. You’ve always been able to see right through him, so of course you know that something’s bothering him, no matter how hard he tries to convince you otherwise.

He still hasn’t looked at you, but he imagines you sitting in the passenger seat with your arms crossed over your chest, furrowing your brows the way you always do when you can’t figure something out. “Did my family say something to you?”

He lets himself glance at you long enough to flash you a tight smile, a forced curving of his lips that doesn’t meet his eyes. “Nothing worth repeating.”

Your eyes narrow at his words, lips parting like you want to say something else, but then he’s pulling up in front of your apartment building and parking the car, and the moment is gone. The silence follows you into the lobby, up the elevator and all the way inside your shared apartment.

Suna quickly decides that he hates this kind of silence. He hates how bothered he still is about you and your stupid ex even more. Mostly, he hates the distance he feels between you now, even though he knows it’s one of his own creation.

He wants nothing more than to get rid of it, to lay his head in your lap and tell you exactly why he’s so upset while you stroke his hair and comfort him, but doing so would require him to be honest about his feelings, and you both already know how shitty he is at that. And the last thing Suna wants to do right now is start a fight, especially when he already feels like he’s not good enough for you.

You must sense his hesitance, because in the end, you’re the one that comes to him. You corner him while he’s sitting at the edge of your shared bed, approaching him with the same amount of care and delicateness you’d use with a stray cat.

You’re both still wearing your wedding clothes, but neither of you seems to care much about that right now. You push his jacket off his shoulders and he lets you, watching as you fold it with careful hands and set it neatly down on the bed next to him.

You move to stand in front of him, resting your hands on his shoulders. Suna finds himself shifting almost automatically to accommodate you, spreading his thighs so you can stand comfortably between his legs.

Then you’re running your fingers through his hair, nails scraping gently against his scalp in just the way he likes, and whatever ideas he had before about keeping his feelings to himself and suffering in silence immediately vanish from his brain. He’s nothing but putty in your hands right now, and all it took was one measly touch from you.

You’re good at that, Suna thinks. You’re good at softening him, at making him feel safe and loved, like he can tell you anything without being judged. It’s one of the things he loves the most about you.

It’s also why, despite his earlier hesitance, he allows himself to melt into your touch. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face against your stomach while you continue to run your fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head every now and then.

The two of you stay like that for a while, just holding each other and breathing in sync. Then you’re tugging gently at his scalp, coaxing him into looking up at you with your fingers in his hair. He goes willingly, always, for you.

“Are you ready to talk about it now?” you ask, soft and seeking, free of any judgment.

“You’re gonna think it’s stupid,” Suna mumbles, chin tucked securely against your body.

You press a soothing kiss to his forehead for good measure. “Try me.”

And though the thought of baring his feelings so openly still makes him kind of queasy, he does it anyway, relenting. “I didn’t know your ex was gonna be at the wedding.”

“Who, Haru? That’s who this is about?” You blink as genuine surprise laces your features, as if you’ve actually forgotten about your ex entirely, which pleases Suna more than he cares to admit. “He’s friends with my cousin. We all grew up together. I thought I told you that.”

“You did.” The smile he gives you is curt and tight-lipped. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “You just didn’t tell me how devastated your family was when the two of you broke up.”

“So they did say something to you, didn’t they?” You shake your head, understanding flashing in your eyes as your lips curve into a frown. “Who was it? Wait, don’t tell me– Aunt Eri?”

“The one and only,” Suna confirms, much to your chagrin. “She and Haru’s mom were convinced the two of you were meant to be, and that you were –get this– absolutely perfect for each other.”

The words taste sour in his mouth, a bitterness filling his voice that he only hopes you know isn’t directed towards you. Thankfully, you don’t seem to take any offense to it. If anything, you look upset for him, your jaw dropping and eyes widening in disbelief which quickly turns to anger at your own aunt’s audacity.

“Oh, no. Rin, baby, I’m so sorry,” you say, and he can tell from the look in your eyes how much you mean it. “They had no right to say any of that, least of all in front of you.” You lift a hand to cup his cheek and shake your head, eyes soft and apologetic. “I can only imagine how shitty it was to hear.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, frowning at the memory, “no kidding.” But he leans into your touch anyway, brushing his lips against your palm so you know he doesn’t blame you. “That’s not really the part that bothered me, anyway.”

You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head curiously. “Then what did?”

Suna already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it from you, which is why he takes a deep breath and asks, “Why did you and Haru break up?”

“We were going to different colleges,” you reply, confirming what your aunt told him. “We agreed it was the best thing for the both of us.”

And though it’s exactly the answer he was expecting, that still doesn’t make hearing it hurt any less. He swallows the lump in his throat and looks away, voice quieting. “So if you never broke up with him back then, you’d probably still be with him right now.”

“And if I won the lottery when I was eighteen the way I hoped I would, then I’d probably be single and in Madrid right now,” you shoot back easily, without missing a beat. “What’s your point?”

Suna frowns, fixing you with a pointed look. “Your family likes him. I mean, they really, really like him. Way more than they like me.”

“Well, then,” you lean forward, lips curving up into a smile, “I guess it’s a good thing you’re dating me and not any of them, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head, the frown on his face deepening even further. “You don’t get it. The only reason the two of you didn’t work out is because of bad timing, not because you didn’t love him anymore.”

“But that’s the thing. I don’t love him anymore, Rin. I love you and only you,” you insist. “I’m not the person I was when Haru and I were together. I grew up. I went to college, I moved out on my own, and then we met, and I fell in love with you.”

“That’s exactly my point,” he argues. “None of that would’ve ever happened if you hadn’t broken up with him. If he’d reached out to you while you were still in college, then you and I wouldn’t even be together right now.”

“But he didn’t, and he won’t. And even if he did now, it wouldn’t matter, because the only person I’m in love with is you.”

Your voice is steady, firm, leaving little room for argument. He tries anyway, opening his mouth to speak again, but you silence him with a finger pressed to his lips. And though Suna still isn’t completely convinced you’re what he deserves, he listens, quieting down long enough to hear you out properly.

“Rin, baby, if we sit here and argue about all the what if’s, we’ll always find some kind of excuse for why we couldn’t have been together,” you reason. “But we are, so why does it matter? We’re here together now, and I chose you– because I wanted you. I still want you.”

He watches, heart full and racing, as you settle yourself into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, knees on either side of his thighs. He doesn’t hesitate to welcome you, hands resting on your hips, the weight of you warm and familiar in his arms.

“Do you still want me?” you ask, as if you don’t already know, as if there was ever any doubt.

And that, he quickly realizes, is exactly the point you’re trying to make, because no matter what happened in the past, no matter who the two of you have been with before this, he’s the one you’re choosing now, just like you are for him.

“More than I know what to do with,” he answers, reaching a hand up to your face to brush his thumb across your cheek.

“Then it’s settled. Everything else is just background noise.” You kiss him, then, deep and wanting, and it’s all he can do to kiss you back, longing and eager. You smile when you pull away, a sweet, loving thing he feels like an idiot for ever even doubting in the first place. “Okay?”

And Suna smiles, relieved, resting his forehead against yours.

“Okay.”

Written by: Dawn & Luna

if you’re interested in more, feel free to join our taglist!

[noomsu]

you arrived like sunlight in the gloom

s. neuvillette is pondering on his feelings, unrecognizable as they are. cw. fluff. longing. barely any dialogue?? not proofread. gender-neutral reader (no pronouns used). tw. murder mention (trial). wc. 1.2k a/n. i wrote this at work (hehe) so take it with a grain of salt. this was for neuvi's birthday but i haven't caught a break this week so it's a little late. anyway, happy belated birthday, loml. credits. dividers by @/cafekitsune.

Neuvillette frowned—his eyebrows wrinkled together for a fraction of a second, barely perceptible. He placed down the documents he had been holding, and let out a sigh. It was heavy. As heavy as the five centuries he carried within himself. No, that was not quite right—it was as heavy as the unspoken feeling that swelled deep within his ribcage. Though he was well aware of his lack of understanding in human matters—even more so those that involved complex emotions—, Neuvillette found that this was different. It filled him with equal parts of dread and excitement. It made his heart, that useless muscle beating in his chest, swell with elation and shrink with anxiety.

It was a contradiction.

He was not used to contradictions. He was a man of facts—evidence, logic, arguments. He knew to recognize what was true, factly, from what was not. And yet, now, he hesitated. Doubt filled him like a leak in a fortress; slow and steady, it filled him from his toes to the top of his head, eroding his foundations, making him falter. Making him weak.

As the Iudex, hesitation was a luxury that he could not afford. As for weaknesses, he was not aware he had one. Not one as glaringly obvious as this.

As you.

His eyes flickered again to the documents on his desk. The latest evidence that the Marechaussee Phantom had collected framed the actions that had led to the current trial—a murder of passion is what Fontaine called it, but Neuvillette failed to see how passion could lead to such an awry outcome. Or that’s how he used to think, at least. Now, as he glanced through his window and caught sight of you, he had the faintest idea of how one could go to such lengths for passion.

You were beautifully oblivious, he noticed. Even as you laughed and flushed delicately under the soft sunshine of Fontaine, you did not seem to realize that the magician was pulling the reactions out of you with purpose. The sky began to cloud almost at the same time that he observed Lyney taking out a rainbow rose from his hat for you—he watched you stutter from the window, torn between flattery and shame as you accepted the flower in your hands.

It was odd. 

He had never noticed the sly undertone of the magician. Perhaps he was seeing things—hallucinating could be quite serious. Maybe he should pay a visit to Sigewinne. 

No matter.

Neuvillette forced himself to look back at the documents on his desk. His first and utmost priority should be the upcoming trial, not whether or not you were charmed away by Fontaine’s most famous magician. Despite his words, the rumble of thunder outside said otherwise.

Truth be told, he did not quite understand the storm of emotions brewing within him. He knew better than anyone that Lyney and Lynette’s reputation preceded them. He had even gone out of his way to watch their performances. Even Lady Furina had acknowledge their talent—if that was true, then why was his mouth filled with bitterness at the sight of a trick he had seen countless times before? Pulling a flower out of his hat was, perhaps, one of the most basic tricks under Lyney’s sleeve. He wondered, for a second, if perhaps he would be this bothered had something else come out of that hat. Would he be this unsettled if the cat that followed the twins had popped out? Or if it had been a dove instead of a flower? Or was it perhaps the kind of flower what bothered him?

No, that wasn’t right.

He realized, then, that what bothered him was the audience. That you, of all people, were the audience.

What a silly thought.

Why would you refrain from enjoying the joys Fontaine had to offer? Why would you resist the charm of magic and flattery? It was a selfish thought. Neuvillette paused as the thought crossed his mind, hand frozen, fountain pen bleeding through the paper—selfish, hm? He was not aware a creature such as himself could feel selfishness. He understood the concept; the constant need to only consider one’s needs. Never would he have guessed that he’d feel such a complicated emotion, least of all provoked by you.

No, that was not fair. That was a mistaken verdict—another surprise.

With another thunder, Fontaine was covered in rain once again. Neuvillette sighed, observing the mess of ink he had made on his desk. He was lucky the ink had not reach the text, but it was still unbecoming of the Chief Justice to appear in court with his gloves stained. That was another first—nothing had managed to unsettle him enough to lose sight of all propriety except you.

How could a mere human hold such power over a sovereign?

As he focused once again on the stained documents on his hands, Neuvillette finally lost sight of you. He did not see you laughing as the rain fell, soaking through your clothes. He did not see you ran to the nearest roof barefoot nor did he see you asking something to a passing Melusine. 

He did not see you.

Not until you knocked at his door. “Monsieur Neuvillette?” 

The moment you opened the door and stepped inside, soaked through and still dripping from the sudden rain, Neuvillette recognized another odd emotion swirling within him: relief. He felt such relief that, had he been standing, perhaps he would have fallen to his knees. Odd, he thought, that a mere human could wield enough power to bring him to his knees.

No, that was not accurate. 

You did not hold the power.

He had willingly given it to you.

With the realization, the rain outside seemed to thin until the clouds began to disperse.

“I apologize,” Your voice, familiar and warm, forced a smile out of him. “I just wanted to wish you luck with the upcoming trial. I know what you will say-”

“Justice needs no luck,” He finished for you.

You laughed. That bright laugh that always made him feel oddly lighter. 

“I know,” You repeated, nodding. Despite your sudden appearance and your soaked state, you had not attempted to actually step into his office. You remained within the door frame, preventing your mess from staining his pristine space—unaware that, in fact, he’d rather you stepped in. He would rather have traces of you all over than have you at arm’s distance. “However, I am aware that this trial is… complicated, and though you always deny it, I know it might affect you. Kiara seems worried, too.”

“I appreciate the concern.” Neuvillette gifted you one of his rare smiles—one of those small, gentle ones that could warm even the coldest day in Snezhnaya.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” You cleared your throat, suddenly flustered.

You mumbled something about needing to change, about not wanting to catch a cold, and left just as quick as you had appeared. His office felt almost cold the moment you disappeared—like the sun had left, taking all its warmth with it and leaving behind a perpetual winter.

That’s it, he thought.

The sun.  He was weak to the sun.

He was weak to you.

more works.

©2024 noomsu do not translate, repost, copy, modify

[purpleberiii]

What do you think will happen if Nightingale's wife reverted back to a child, let's say for about a week? But then the sinners want to steal Nightingale's wife to the point that Nightingale will walk in her office to see her wife surrounded with Zoya, Bai Yi, Langley, Shalom, Rahu, Eleven, Eirene, Chameleon, Chealsea and Hamel

All are planning something but luckily your wife was there to save you

-💜anon

Omg this is an amazing idea 😫

"Little Ms. Captain"

☆Prompt: Eureka made a potion and wanted the arrest captain to try it out. After seeing the effects of the potion, she knew she made a mistake somewhere.

☆Warnings: Wholesome fluff, includes, Nightingale, Bai Yi, Zoya, Langley, Eleven, Rahu, Chelsea, Eirene, Chameleon.

Since you it was your job to take care of the sinners, Eureka called you and several other sinners into her lab, asking each of them to be her test subject. None of them agreed, so you stepped up and agreed, not knowing that she accidentally mixed wrong chemicals inside the potion. You took a sip and didn't feel anything strange so you gave her a thumbs up.

At the end of the day, Nightingale and you were cuddling together in your shared bed and after a few touches and teasing, you made love to your wife, lasting for atleast four hours before falling asleep with a weird gut feeling.

The sun rays blared through the curtains of your shared room, Nightingale woke up, the sheets covering her red and bitten chest. She looked around and her heart stopped in her chest when she saw a child sprawled out on the bed, snoring away naked. "What in the hell?!" Hearing her loud voice, the child woke up, startled upon seeing the panicked expression on Nightingale's face. "Y/n? Is that you?"

"Yes it's me what-ahh!" You see how tiny your hands looked and realised that Nightingale looked bigger than usual. Did she grow? Or did you shrink? You pulled off the covers and saw tiny feet and toes. "Oh my fuck I'm a child! It must be the potion Eureka mixed for me!" Nightingale's was still in shock before she reached over and hugged you close to her body, squealing at her downright adorable you looked.

"H-hey! Hey stop it!" She didn't stop as she kept cuddling and kissing you. You sighed as you knew you weren't getting away anytime soon.

When you and her arrived, Nightingale had you wrapped up in her coat, your tiny frame clinging to her body. When chief asked where you were, she opened her coat and you popped out. "You're so little... and cute!!" Chief pulled you out of Nightingale's coat and squished you as Nightingale watched with a smile on her face.

Even though you were a child, you had no choice but to return to your station and when your arrest team saw you, they all squealed upon seeing a little Captain. Despite that cute facade, you had a strict and commanding tone, and no one could take you seriously that day. "I'm so sorry caption but you're just too cute!"

"Yeah boss, I can't take you seriously at all!"

You sighed at all the comments and let them off that day. Word got around quickly that the arrest captain turned into a child by one of the sinners and the other ones had crazy ideas.

In the afternoon, you were seated in Nightingale's office when the door creaked open and several sinners walked in with a mischievous smile on their faces. Even the leader of the Nineth agency was there. "What are you guys doing here?!" Your face was red due to embarrassment of them catching you.

"We came to pay our beloved Captain a respect," Langley replied with a smirk. The sinners started surrounding your chair, and Zoya kicked the table away to surround you from the front.

"Your cheeks are... chubby..." Hamel breathed out, mesmerised by your cute yet pretty face.

"Oh you sure can be my sugar baby," Chelsea out emphasis on 'baby'.

"For such a mean Captain, you are cute as a child," Shalom chuckled.

You gulped as you were surrounded by hot women. Before Chameleon could lift you, Nightingale's voice blared through the room. "Please step away from her!" She marched through the room and pushed through the Sinners and picked you up, with you immediately clinging to her.

"No touching!" They all 'awwed' at your squeaky voice before Langley told them all to return to their cells.

"Have fun in that form, little Ms. Captain," she smiled before walking away. You and Nightingale looked at each other before you whined and pouted, while she just chuckled.

"Well I guess I won't be letting you go any time soon then."

Let's just say, you paid Eureka a nice visit once you returned to normal.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pretty When You Cry.

Joel realises his morals are fucked. You realise you like it.

Pairing - Joel Miller x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Lots of cursing, sexual content, mentions of prostitution

Word Count - 1750

Author's Note - oh boy. buckle in. i love when a character has a messed up moral compass and is a little rough and jagged around the edges. i also love lana del rey. hence, this joel fic was born. please enjoy.

Masterlist. Requests.

“Stupid fuckin’ girl,” Joel spits at you.

You flinch and step backwards, trying to escape what is inevitably going to be a brutal verbal assault. The older man watches your every move and chuckles darkly.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Nowhere, is the answer. You’re down a dark alleyway in the QZ, a barely lit back street. Even if you run, you’ll just end up circling back around. You’re walled in – both literally and figuratively.

Joel moves towards you, his large frame making you want to shrink away instinctively. He towers over you, broad shoulders blocking your view.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

You weren’t, is the issue.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Joel has been desperate for a car battery for weeks. A few days ago, you’d overheard a guy talking about smuggling spare parts. You’d set up a covert meeting, and asked if he could get you what you needed. He’d told you he could – for a price. It didn’t matter that the currency was you. You’d do what you needed to do. For Joel.

You’d made your way to meet him tonight. His name was Pete, you were pretty sure. He was a sleaze, a real piece of work - but he had connections. He had people working for him, could practically get you anything if you asked nicely and promised to pay.

You had nothing to your name. No one did, these days. You knew you couldn’t pay Pete with alcohol, or cigarettes, or drugs. No, you’d give him something else. You’d give him you. An offer which he eagerly accepted.

He wanted you to pay before he’d give you the battery. You’d argued, but it was no use. You didn’t want to make him angry – it’d only make it worse.

So there you were. He had backed you against the wall of this very alleyway, demanding you take off your shirt. Just as you were lifting the hem over your head, Pete hit the ground.

You looked up to see Joel, more furious than you’d ever seen him before. He’d punched Pete in the head and knocked him out cold.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?” he hissed.

“Well I was doing you a favour. Not anymore, apparently,” you hissed back.

“A favour? You’re whoring yourself out as a favour?”

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat, turning on your heel to leave.

Joel grabbed your wrist and pulled you backwards with force, taking no care whatsoever. You were worried he was going to snap your arm, the way he was clutching it.

“Stupid fuckin’ girl.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“Are you even listenin’ to me? What the fuck were you thinking?”

He’s looking at you pointedly, clearly expecting some sort of explanation. You’re not really sure what to say. When you don’t answer, he takes another few steps forward, intimidating you until your back is pressed against the rough brick of the wall.

Joel grabs your chin between his fingers and forces you to look at him. His fury hasn’t subsided – you can still feel it rolling off of him in waves. He’s buzzing with adrenaline, the electricity of it infectious, seeping into your pores.

“You better have a damn good reason as to why I just watched you take your shirt off for Pete fuckin’ Davis.”

He spits the man’s name like it tastes disgusting in his mouth. It makes you smirk slightly.

“You think this is funny? Huh?” Joel asks, squeezing your face tighter. You shake your head, not once breaking eye contact with him. He stares you down for a minute before releasing his grip.

“He has a battery,” you explain quietly. “He’s been selling spare parts. Said he could get me what you need if we cut a deal. It’s a small price to pay, Joel.”

“That is not a small price.”

The genuineness of it makes you wince.

The thing is, Joel doesn’t usually care about this kind of stuff. He’s not exactly an upstanding citizen, having made his fair share of dumb deals and below the belt exchanges. He’s usually the one encouraging you to break the rules a little, if it means you both benefit.

Above all, you are convinced that Joel doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anyone, not really. You know that he and Tess have this ambiguous sort of partnership - friendship at a complete stretch. But that’s it. Joel doesn’t care.

So why is he so furious?

His rage has infected you now. You’re exasperated, sick of the mixed signals. You and Joel were partners in crime, acquaintances at most. It didn’t matter that when he looked at you, the whole world fell away. It didn’t matter than when you heard his voice, time stopped temporarily. It didn’t matter that he was the last thing you thought about at night and the first thing you thought about in the morning. None of it mattered.

“Why do you fucking care, Joel?” you spit, shoving at his chest. His scent is suffocating you, making it hard to think. You need to put some distance between you before you do something reckless.

“Why do I care? Why do I fuckin’ care?” he practically yells at your face. “Are you that stupid?”

“Stop calling me stupid!” you retaliate. “I’m smarter than every damn person in this place!”

“Smart enough to turn to prostitution?”

That word makes you scoff.

“It wasn’t like that. It would have been a one time thing. A quick payment.”

“That’s not a fuckin’ payment! That’s the one thing you shouldn’t fuck around with!”

You can tell he’s genuinely upset, but you’re not sure why. It’s none of his business what you choose to do with your body.

“I was doing this for you, asshole! He would have given me the battery, and you could have gone and found Tommy. I did this for you,” you yell, shoving him as hard as you can. He doesn’t move.

“Keep your fuckin’ voice down,” he hisses.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“God damn it! You never fuckin’ listen, do you? How stupid are you, huh?”

Joel takes a heavy step forward, one hand reaching out to wrap around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just keeps it there, holding you in place. Right where he wants you.

His eyes darken, still alight with fury. He smells like smoke and musk and sweat and spearmint toothpaste. You want to lick the exposed skin of his neck to see if he’d taste the same.

He leans in, almost bumping your nose with his.

“We don’t fuck around with that stuff, alright?” he murmurs. “I’ve seen pretty girls like you get hurt real bad for a lot less. You can’t let them treat you as any less than human.”

You’ve never heard him this sincere. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“Why do you care, Joel?” you whisper. “I’m just as disposable to you as I am to the rest of them.”

He pauses, and you can see the cogs turning in his head. He’s still holding you by the neck, his other hand coming around to tangle in the back of your hair. He’s looking at you so intently that you feel your bravado start to waiver. Your bottom lip quivers, and your eyes begin to well up. A drop runs down your cheek, and the dam breaks.

He’s never seen you get upset like this. You’re trying to stay stoic, but the tears are falling freely, dripping down your face.

This is the moment Joel realises that he’s a changed man. He’s known for years that his morals aren’t what they used to be. They can’t be, not in this world. He’s murdered, robbed, tortured, kidnapped. His moral compass was broken a long time ago. But the change has never dawned on him, until now. He’s holding you roughly, watching you try not to sob, and he doesn’t feel sad. He doesn’t feel sympathy, or regret, or remorse. No. He feels a sick sense of arousal. He’s turned on.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, looking at you carefully. Your lip quivers again, and his resolve breaks completely. He’s surprised he doesn’t hear it shatter.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you cry.”

With that, he’s surging forward, dipping his head to lick at your tear stained cheeks. Your sadness is salty and sweet and real. He’s hooked.

Joel presses forward and kisses you harshly. His hand tightens in your hair, yanking you closer to him. He presses your bodies together, and the warmth of him makes your head spin.

You’re still crying as you moan into his mouth. He’s rough and careless and you want more. He groans, and presses you backwards into the wall, the brick scratching up your back. Everything is blurry for the both of you. He’s grabbing at you, groping anything he can find. He’s searching for skin, hands making their way up and under your shirt. You know how risky it is, making out with Joel in a back alley in the middle of the QZ. You don’t care. Neither of you do. You’re drunk on each other and it’s clouding your judgment.

“You like it when I’m mean to you, honey?” he murmurs, voice jagged and low. He’s kissing at your neck, nipping the skin and leaving purple bruises in his wake. 

“Yeah, Joel, fuck. I love it,” you whine. “I love you.”

The both of you freeze at your confession. You’re honestly not sure if you mean it, or if it’s just the heat of the moment. It doesn’t matter now. You’ve said it, and you can’t take it back.

“You think you do,” he mutters against your throat. “But love doesn’t exist in this world. Not anymore.”

You both pause, heavy breaths filling the air. After a while, you break the silence.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you whisper. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.”

You’re not sure whether you’re apologising for loving him, or admitting it, or for the events of the evening. You’re just sorry.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs gently against your mouth as he kisses you again. “Don’t be sorry.”

He takes you up against the red brick wall, legs wrapped around his waist and arms tangled around his neck. Your back is cut and bleeding, throat sore and pulsing where he’s bitten you. He makes you come twice before he finishes himself, teeth sinking into your shoulder, hands leaving prints on your hips.

Joel says that love doesn’t exist anymore. You think he’s wrong.