#what if au where it's the other way around

[prisjean]

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ "MINE"

possessive! caleb x fem! reader

synopsis₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎˚୨୧: an au where you & caleb are farspace officers. the weekly meeting was finished... but after basically knowing caleb your whole life, you notice his mood has changed after him assuming, you paid all your attention to the lieutenant colonel (2.1k words!)

tw: MDNI +18, NSFW, rough sex, jealous sex, unprotected sex (pls use protection), caleb is possessive, dirty talk, spanking, he has you in a headlock, cumming inside

a/n ✧: caleb is releasing tomorrow and im so excited! i hope everyone who pulls him, brings him home! wanted to release this before he releases so im so sorry if this felt fast! also thank you to @tbaluver for giving me a little help with writing this!

caleb's office was always used for meetings. he would talk about the assignments he would give out and the expectations. it was only the officers of the farspace fleet that attended these meetings. caleb, the colonel, sebastian, the lieutenant colonel, and finally, you as a lieutenant.

the meeting was just about done, but caleb’s office felt heavier than usual, the air thick with something unspoken. you had barely stood up from your seat when you noticed the way he was sitting, his jaw tight, his hand grip on his pen as he started working as soon as sebastian left, eyes sharp and locked onto the report he had, trying to ease himself.

you raised an eyebrow, shifting your weight. “okay, what’s with the look?”

caleb leaned back in his chair, now looking at you. he fidgeted with the pen, clicking it slowly. “you know exactly what, pipsqueak” he said, voice low but toned with something simmering just beneath the surface.

your confusion must have shown because he let out a short, humorless laugh. “don't play dumb,” he muttered, tilting his head slightly. “saw the way you were looking at him.”

your brows furrowed. “sebastian?”

caleb’s eyes darkened, and he stood, stepping around the desk toward you. “yeah, sebastian. you couldn’t take your eyes off him.”

the realization hit, and you rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “seriously? caleb, i was just being polite. i wasn't—”

his hand caught your wrist gently but firmly, pulling you closer. “polite?” he echoed, his voice lower and raising his eyebrows. “seemed like more than that.”

you felt your heartbeat quicken as his fingers trailed slowly up your arm, his touch familiar, possessive in a way that made your skin tingle in a good way. “you’re ridiculous,” you chuckled.

caleb hummed, leaning in, his lips barely brushing your ear. “maybe,” he murmured, “but i don’t like sharing your attention.” he finally admits.

heat rolled on your cheeks as his hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him. the space between you disappeared in an instant with his touch being firm and full of determination. less out of anger and more out of a deep, unshakable need. you could feel the weight of his jealousy, not in harsh words or frustration, but in the way his fingers pressed into your skin, like he had to hook you to him, to remind himself that you were his and no one else's. you yearned for this touch as much as he did for yours. seeing him be so jealous over another guy that you don't think of in that way, turned you on.

"sebastian could never make you feel the way i do", he whispers. his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

your lips parted slightly, but before you could respond, caleb’s grip tightened at your waist, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. his eyes staring into yours, filled with something feral, something that made your knees weak.

“i don't even have to try,” he continued, his voice laced with an edge of arrogance, his fingers tracing a slow, delicate path down your spine. “you’re already melting for me.” and it was true, you could tell just how much wet you were getting with the way he was talking to you.

you swallowed hard, your heart racing. “caleb, someone could walk in” you whispered, your tone was weak at this point.

a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but his grip didn’t change. “and?” he challenged, his voice dangerously low. “you think i would let anyone else have you?"

caleb’s hand slid to your jaw, his thumb brushing over your skin as he tilted your face up to his. he closed the distance between you two.

the kiss came like a storm, powerful and unrelenting. his lips crashed against yours, swallowing any breath you had left, as if he were claiming you in every way possible. his kiss was deep, fighting with tongues and tasting you like he couldn’t get enough.

you felt every ounce of his need, every pulse of his jealousy, as he kissed you harder, almost desperately. it was so intense, the session had you leaning on his cool wooden desk, at least giving you two a little support. his hand at the back of your neck held you in place, as though he feared you'd pull away. you didn’t, though. you melted into him, kissing him back with equal desire, the heat between you rising by the second.

when he finally pulled away, both of you were left breathless, the air between you charged with an electric tension. his eyes gaze into yours, the heat still there, unmistakable, as his lips hovered just above yours.

before you could say another word, he spun you around, pressing your front against the cool, polished surface of his desk. papers scattered to the floor as he pushed you down, his body pressing firmly against yours.

“you really like teasing me, don’t you pipsqueak?” caleb’s voice was low, almost a growl, as he nibbled on your ear, sending a wave of heat through your body. he moved your hair away from the back of your neck to bite you, causing you to wince in pleasure. he took in your scent before planting hickies from behind on your neck. his hands slid down your sides, firmly gripping your hips.

you could feel him harden against you, his breath ragged as his control slipped even further. his voice dropped, dripping with frustration and desire. “you were teasing me with the way you looked at him.. ", he lowly says. "god i just want you for myself..." he groans, still inhaling your smell.

your breath hitched as his grip tightened, pulling you even closer. “i didn’t—”

“don’t,” he interrupted, his voice rough, “don’t even try to deny it.” His hands moved, trailing over your skin with an intensity that left you breathless. his body pressed hard against you. his touch was rougher as if he couldn’t wait any longer.

you bit your lip, feeling the heat between you both intensify.

“you want to know why sebastian could never?” caleb’s voice was right at your ear again. “because he doesn't know you like i do.”

your hands gripped the edge of the desk, your breathing uneven as his every touch igniting sparks under your skin.

“and i’m going to remind you exactly who you belong too.” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. he finishes his statement with a slap on your ass before groping it, leaving you in such a wet mess. at this point you knew he was teasing you just as you did with him, but you were enjoying this.

he sends another slap on your ass before lifting up your skirt and moving your panties to the side. his chest was still pressed against your back with his muscular clothed arms caging you in, then letting his leather gloved finger slide through your drooling cunt. you squirm under his touch.

"gosh.. you stare at him with those pretty eyes but you're fucking soaked for me", you sink under the whispers he tells you. "caleb... please.." you begged me. "i need you now.." you continue begging, practically pressing your ass against his clothed crotch.

“heh..so needy..” he chuckles, having a firm grip on you. “are you sure you can handle your punishment? because i won't be able to hold back,” he breathes against your ear, giving you a chill down your back. 

“yes.. please colonel caleb”, you murmur. you could already feel himself hardened under you after saying his title. 

“that’s a good girl,” he grins before letting your panties fall to ground. you eagerly wait for him as he starts to unbuckle his belt. he unzips, freeing his heavy cock. the tip was already gleaming with leaky pre-cum, begging to discipline you. he presses his cock against your erected pussy, letting your juices lube him up. he makes your body heat up when he gives your clit a few taps before probing at your entrance. you share a loud gasp as you're both intertwined now.

caleb slowly breathes to get him accustomed to your pussy clenching around him. he wanted to cum right then and there but he knew he wasn't done with you. he's been fantasizing about this many too many times and now he was sure as hell not going to waste it.

"fuck, your pussy..mm..is so tight" he breathes. he continues to pump into you. the grip on the table under your palms tighten, he knew just how to hit your pleasure points.

“mm~you think i didn’t notice the way you looked at him?”, he murmured, his voice low, dripping with restrained frustration. “ngh..it doesn't matter.." he mutters, gripping your waist tightly. "because we...both know who you really belong to, don’t we?” he groans as your pussy swells around him.

you kept moaning in replies, you loved the way he was taking his jealousy out on you but you were too into your pleasure to say anything back to him. caleb notices and wraps his muscular arm around your neck, letting your head tilt up a bit while you gasped in surprise.

"say it,” he commanded softly, his tone a dangerous mix of desire and control. “say you’re mine.” saying as he kept his pace. his eyes burned with hunger.

“mmh..i'm yours, caleb" your voice trembling with need.

a satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. “that’s right,” he murmured, the pace of his thrusts picks up. "and 'm..gonna make sure you only look at me from on," he groans as he continues fucking you, letting slaps of skin echo in the room. at this point, his balls clapped against your clit and his tip hitting your spongy g-spot at every thrust.

"ca-caleb.." you wince, "i'm..'m gonna cum!" you whine.

"mm.. that's it, cum on me, pretty girl" he smirks, his pace never faltering. with those words, you ride your orgasm out. your juices spraying on his cock and rides down your thighs, leaving your legs to tremble. "mmm..cumming on me like a slut hm? ngh..'m gonna fill your pussy up, pretty girl" he moans. after a few more trembling thrusts, he lets out a loud groan before letting his warm seed coat your walls. you both pants as he gently unwraps his arm from you and pulls out of you. your pussy drools of him down your thighs.

the air in the room was now thick, it echoed your synced breathing and smelled of the weight of everything that just happened.

"you okay?" caleb asks, his voice husky, still tinged with the remnants of desire. you can tell now his jealousy was slowly melting away. a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he reached up, tucking a sweaty piece of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin.

"yes, i'm okay" you nodded, your cheeks flush at the heat of the moment. he smiles and without another word, he bends down in front of you, his strong hands gently rolling your panties back onto you. there’s an unmistakable urgency in the way he moves, a reminder that you belong to him in a way no one else can take.

his fingers press against your skin possessively as he slides the fabric back into place, he grins as he sees you still leaking of him and when the fabric is fully adjusted, caleb straightens up, standing in front of you again. he reaches out, his thumb tracing along your lower lip as he steps closer, crowding you with his presence.

"you know, i don’t think they’ll miss the message now," caleb murmurs, his voice low and dark with intent. his hand slides to your waist, pulling you flush against him, the heat of his body making you feel every inch of his desire. "i want them to see who you belong to. i want them to know exactly who’s got you."

you shiver at the words, feeling your pulse race. his lips hover near your ear as he continues, his breath hot against your skin. "i’ll make sure you never forget that you’re mine. no one else gets to have you the way i do. understand?"

you nod, feeling a surge of heat coursing through your body at the raw possessiveness in his words. his lips press against your ear in a gentle kiss, but there’s no mistaking the tension that still lingers in his touch.

"you’re mine," he repeats, a promise and a claim all in one. "and everyone’s gonna know it."

[stillarobyn]

I understand the intention behind this post and I don't disagree with it. I don't.

If you're writing a period piece or something with a certain dark tone, then yes, you absolutely want to keep to that, give your gruff sailor a mumbled line about not being like most other men, or your scattered workaholic scientist can say she never felt like she was missing out on anything by not having a partner while they save the world.

But do not limit the reach of fanfiction by expecting it to be held to the same standards.

Because we need both. Because the target audience for a lot of works that employ this are young, they're disconnected from community, and they're lost. They think they're broken or they don't fit or they are made wrong.

I, a millennial, didn't know about bisexuality until I read about it in fanfic somewhere around 2003 (I was 13). I didn't know any out gay or queer people growing up. It was still scandalous on tv, and my parents didn't have any problem with it, they just didn't talk about it. I can't imagine how isolating it would have felt if my parents prevented me from watching anything with gay characters or spoke negatively about them.

My first discovery of nonbinary identity was in a bandom fic I read in 2010 (I was 20, for those playing the home game). It was maybe two years after that that I began to talk with nonbinary/genderqueer/genderfluid people online. I knew a couple of binary trans people in college, and one in high school, but this was my first time meeting people who weren't a binary gender. In 2012! It took another two years for me, at this point a full-ass adult, to start describing myself that way.

All of this oversharing to say...my understanding of queer identity was not hand-held by anyone in my life, but boy I learned to accept these foreign ideas I saw in myself because I had a safe fictional environment to explore these concepts and terms.

I think it was 2014-2016 when fanfic spaces had a boom of "everyone is trans" AUs and headcanons, and they were often rose-tinted and a bit twee, but that's the point of them. I saw identities I had to look up, and when I asked in follow-up "okay, but what does a person who feels like that look/act like?" it was all crickets, except in fiction, and specifically fanfic.

"But the world is different now, not knowing is no excuse" NOPE. not with anti-lgbtqia legislation passing in the US, or in other hostile countries around the world (I'm from the US, my argument is US-centric based on my experience and knowledge, but by no means exclusionary of people in other countries), or even family situations or rural upbringing or any other circumstance that isolated young queer folk from other queer folk.

A popular live-service video game introduced a nonbinary character and I saw twitch chats full of people who were just confused and uneducated. Ignoring those who were hostile was easy, but the uninformed, especially the non-English-speakers and people who didn't come from Western cultures, were largely open to learning something they never had framework for. Made all the more frustrating in a game environment where the characters didn't make a habit of having these discussions on screen, but that's a different rant.

I don't know if OP intended this in reference to original media, or toward fic, but I saw a lot of established characters in the reblogs so I just want to address that. I'm a characterization first fic reader, so I get it. "Everyone is trans" fics aren't for me, but there's a space needed for them if someone needs to see Captain Kirk and Spock debating the application of terminology of human gender and sexuality in interplanetary cultural settings...now actually I kind of want that fic so I played myself.

Dragon Age Veilguard came under attack for daring to openly and forwardly use the term "nonbinary" in its fantasy world, as though something about the word is inherently incompatible with the fantasy genre? But the game was pretty clear in its goal to create a safe gaming space for marginalized folks when so often their experiences are erased, ignored, tokenized, or stereotyped. The narrative, therefore, had to be hostile to the unaccepting, educational for the ignorant, and validating to the vulnerable. Getting to play in a world where people are referred to as nonbinary (just like me) and where people use they/them pronouns (just like me) and where no one ridicules or attacks them specifically for this? It felt comfortable and safe and the world was ending in the game, but I felt a personal empowerment in my immersion.

More complex and nuanced discussions by characters about their queer identity add to the picture. It shouldn't be in every work because every author has their own angle and their own philosophy about it, but they have just as much a right to a seat at the table. You can have your fics where Tony Stark's sexuality is a smirk and a wink, and you can have your fics where he explains that he used to call himself bisexual but the world is bigger and weirder so he considers himself omnisexual now. And if you don't like that, scroll past it. The author didn't write it for you, but someone else needs to hear that.

Maybe this is just a personal vent that escaped containment, but I feel the need to remind some folks that some people need the LGBT center brochure version because they didn't get one in the mail. It's a tough time for everyone in this community, no need to make it tougher.

he would not fucking say that but it’s he would not fucking talk about his queer identity like he was reading out of a college campus lgbt center brochure

[fangbanger3000]

we need to talk about The Silence and The Song

as per my last post, i have received a lot of encouragement to go public with this, and the more disappointed people i have in my dms, the angrier i get. so i will.

the silence and the song is an ancient arlathan au DA fic on ao3 by luxannaslut, and it is partly, if not entirely, written by an ai. i have no wish to be involved in any kind of fandom drama or witch hunting or bullying, but as a writer myself there are few things that piss me off more than watching people steal the work of others because they can't be fucked to write. it's disrespectful to your fellow writers, it's disrespectful to your readers, and it's disrespectful to the authors of the works the ai is stealing from.

ai is a plague that has no business being in creative spaces and you must do better.

the writing pattern

there was something very odd and monotone about the sentence structure of tsats that i couldn't quite place, so i fed chatgpt a prompt along the lines of "two people in a fantasy novel hate each other, but they secretly desire one another, and they kiss", and the screenshots above are the results. the third one is an excerpt from chapter 40 of tsats. the writing pattern is identical and it doesn't seem like the "writer" has even bothered to pretend they wrote it. if you're going to use ai, at least be sneaky about it. you know, paraphrase a little.

nonsense descriptions

"her nimble fingers worked with quiet precision" (ct. 1), "his grip firm but tender" (ct. 33), "her gown pooling around her like embers" (ct. 1).

fingers don't make sound, so what does quiet precision mean? as opposed to what? her joints cracking with every movement? how is a grip firm but tender? what does that mean? since when do embers pool?

the entire fic is littered with these adjectives that contradict each other or just straight up do not make sense, because all an ai does is generate descriptive language with no understanding of what the words it's spitting out actually mean. i could spend hours picking out examples from the seven billion pages worth of text, but i quite frankly have better things to do and would simply challenge you to try getting through a chapter or two without noticing the pattern.

repetition at structure-level

all the scenes in this fic are described in pretty much the same way. they open with purple prose vomit of the surroundings; solas is standing somewhere looking "unreadable as ever"; ellana's fiery golden molten fire copper ember ginger red hair is flowing this and that way; there's some dialogue with whoever is present and it leaves ellana feeling different variations of "something she couldn't name". this is, once again, a blatantly obvious sign of ai. below is the result of me feeding chatgpt the line "write me a scene from a fantasy novel where a woman with red hair is sitting on the ground in a magical garden at night", and side by side with that is the opening scene of the fic. make your own judgement.

repetition at word-level

this one speaks for itself. we fucking get it. her dress is orange, her hair is red, mythal's presence is heavy in the room, solas looks unreadable, compassion is sitting on her head like a crown, solas' ears are betraying him and ellana's move with every thought she thinks. we get it. the issue here is that an ai remembers the info you feed it, but not necessarily the info it shits out. if it's being told to write scene after scene of an elven woman with a gown that looks like fire doing xyz, it's going to do so with no regard for how many times the reader has already been informed of these details.

lastly: the breakneck speed

359,6k words in four weeks by a person who allegedly is employed and married and hasn't pre-written anything? no. any writer will tell you that this simply isn't possible. it absolutely infuriates me to see how much praise this "writer" gets for posting up to three full chapters in a day without anyone calling bullshit. i am pulling out my hair, you guys.

why i'm not going to live and let live this one

perhaps i would be less angry if the fic was some silly bullshit court intrigue Y/A stuff, but this is a text that handles very heavy and triggering topics such as SA, coercion, domestic abuse, and other things of the same vein. to sit back and put your feet up while having a robot write these extremely sensitive and very real human experiences with words it has stolen from texts written by actual persons is fucking heinous. the "writer" should be deeply ashamed of themselves and i'm sick and tired of watching people eat up their bs.

and on that note: the amount of people in my dm's telling me that they feel stupid and naive for not clocking this has infuriated me more than anything else. you're not foolish for this. being fed ai-generated bullshit is not what is supposed to happen on any creative platform and much less a fandom-centred one, so of course no one approaches a fic through that lens. fandom and fic writing is supposed to be about passion and the only person in this situation who needs to do better and change their behaviour is luxannaslut. polluting our creative spaces, wasting the time of your readers, and minimising the effort of actual writers who are working hard to provide content for us all to share and enjoy is vile and so, so lazy. i beg of you: do better.

[junhoswifey]

kang dae-ho / player 388 bf head canons pt. 2 ˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—

check out pt 1. here if you want!!

pairing(s): kang dae-ho x female!reader

warnings: language, modern day au, femme reader, nsfw, kissing, mentions of sex, fluff

-princess treatment <3

-will literally buy everything for you — if he sees you pulling out your wallet he’s immediately shutting it down and pulling out his own

-his sisters def taught him how to do simple hairstyles so whenever you need help with your hair he is quick to do it for you

-loves to look after you when you’re sick (he doesn’t care how sick you are he will still be clingy af)

-brings you anything you need/cooks for you when you’re on your period

-lets you try out new makeup or hairstyles on him for fun

-his favorite thing ever is when you play with his hair and there’s been multiple occasions where it’s made him fall asleep

-always feels so comfortable around you and isn’t afraid to tell you anything

-not the jealous type usually but if he sees someones trying to touch you it’s on sight

-loves taking you on dates at least once a week

-loves being little spoon

-has the best sense of humor and doesn’t even realize it

-always listening to you super intently and makes sure to ask little questions when you’re telling him something so you know he cares

nsfw warning!!! (18+)

-every time you’re around he always has to be touching you in some way

-loves when you pull his hair

-rarely leaves big marks when kissing you bc he doesn’t want to feel rough

-loves to kiss all over your body and whisper compliments as he does so

-always checks on you to make sure he isn’t being too rough bc he would never want to hurt his girl

-this man is a god at aftercare — he’s immediately cuddling you not letting you get up and cracks jokes to make you laugh

-def prefers to be submissive bc he is so used to others telling him what to do

-veryyyyy loud and loves to whimper in your ear

-loves to have you on his lap when the two of you are making out

-eye contact during sex goes crazy — he just can’t seem to ever keep his eyes off of you

⇾ be sure to checkout my masterlist if you enjoyed! any type of interaction is appreciated :’)

⇾ i love him sm!!! lmk if y’all want another part to this i forgot how fun making hcs is lol!! i will start posting actual fics for him soon <3 thank you for reading! i love you all 💋

[jrjeremy]

what a silly little thing this is 😁😁

main account > jrjeremy/junior fraudulent: lowkey the funniest thing about this specific name is that it kinda has like lore ☝️☝️☝️

jrjeremy - i was a huge tf2 scout fan back then when i was still pretty much young, so i often use(d) the name jeremy 🫱🫱🫱at one point i started to add junior (jr) to my name cus i thought it sounded cool

junior fraudulent: heheh i remember making like a bunch of tf2 scout AUs back in the old days, pretty sure i still have like a whole list where i wrote down the names of the AUs…… but im pretty sure ivd forgotten what theyre about 😋😋😋 > fraudulent came from pretty much one of my favourite AU (and edgiest one, 🤔🤔🤔actually most of the AUs were edgy as ghell) but the reason why this one was my favourite cause it's technically the ☝️☝️☝️ 'main' or center part or whatever its called

okay i basically have no idea where to start this 😁😁 so im gonna start off with the fact that fraudulent was meant to be an…… 'alternative' class name for the scout, "the fraudulent" is basically where oh the guy is a fraud and the reason why i made this class name was cause i thought it sounded cool, like legitimately 🔥🔥🔥it just sounded cool but other than that one of the lore part is where the guy is a fraud behind uhhh everything so like tf2 scout if he was a faker ((ok i went to look at the list and turns out there is a faker AU i made for the edgy, but it's completely unrelated heeheehaw))

if im gonna be fr, the lore is technically all around the place cus you have the before backstory and the after lore 🤫🤫🤫 1 was where in the backstory the scout was sent out on some sort of mission where he plays as a spy to gather whatever information (scout if he was he was his dad i guess hehe) but that was the backstory ☝️☝️i have no idea when he was given the name the fraud (but the name might be given outside of the lore so bro probably has no idea i named him the fraudulent) or how he ended up where is he right after wwwwhich is what im gonna talk about right now;

dude got knocked into some isolated place where there are a bunch of rooms that are completely all white other than that grey door that opens to the next area, and he has to like beat up a bunch of really disfigured versions of the rest of the mercs and like their bot versions bur covered in gross flesh i guess, but apparently this guy didn't know about that (until the end after he like murdered everyone) cus the enemies look really unrecognisable > it's pretty similar to like a DOOM gameplay setting, but it was all inspired by spooky's jump scare mansion somehow hehehe

that was the main part it's like supposed to be me thinking about a game-like way for the lore, but in the after lore bro encounters a mirror at the end level, falls into a void, realises the guys he were bashing their heads in were his coworkers or something, and then spirals into insanity cause i really liked (and still like) the psychological part of all things ☝️☝️ i might say this is the craziest part of it cause bro then finds himself in some sort of black void that contains like an office, where he technically resides for the rest of his now immortal life, and that office leads to like a whole entire place of doors that lead to the rest of the edgy scout AUs i made of this guy > key aspect is that all the AUs are intended to be edgy, like every single one of them, to the point i had to make a section like a small part of the void of the non-edgy AUs i made

((extra: the guy in my profile picture (my mascot) is an alternate version of the way the fraudulent looks, yeah technically this guy is just an inspired au scout guy but i don't bring that up usually ☝️☝️☝️))

okay i think that might be it 😁😁😁 just a lore dump

other accounts aka uhhhhhhh ask blogs > the fallen pizza tower "Pizza Tower's Aftermath", the super schoolhouse

the fallen pizza tower "Pizza Tower's Aftermath" - a pizza tower AU ask blog of the fellas right after the crumbling tower of pizza, except it was meant to be like a collaboration of another alternate au with an old pal of mine (oddy 🤫🤫🤫) sounds kinda crazy lowkey

the super schoolhouse - my version of another baldi ask blog that takes place in you know 😁😁 the super schoolhouse from baldis basics plus instead of the classic schoolhouse and allat ☝️☝️pretty cool ask blog might come back to it when i have the motivation heh

tagging other guys: @fandomandangstlover (the guy who ive shared alla this back in the days btw 🤙🤙🤙) @remaking-machine @jevthejester @talikaskbbg and everyone else 😋😋 wouldve tagged my buddy too but they already got tagged hehe

Tag game🎉

Tag your moots and ask them where they got the idea for their tumblr accounts name!

For my name it was a nickname I was giving back in middleschool! One of our teacher had a system where we worked with 'wifi' eachtime we talked in class we lost a bar of the "wifi" (was a weird joke and we never held count on that) All the kids usually joked if they needed 'wifi' , they would borrow mine if they wanted to talk more. (I was incredibly shy in middle school, I only talked to like 3 people at school;^;)

They called me Ms. Wifi because of that. I just thought it would be funny if I put 'miss' instead of 'ms' because of my terrible actual wifi connection I have at home lol.

That's my story! Now moots, only if you guys want to, tell us your story.

Tags-> @slipping-lately @firequeenofficial @noagskryf @twinklstarrrr @halfbakedspuds @polterwasteist @rokushi-san @mygedagtes +anyone that sees this and wants to do this as well

[peachsayshi]

PEACH YOUR BABY DADDY!SUKUNA.....

He distanced himself bc he's not a good guy, he's got a shit job, can barely pay child support but he does what he can. And he always looks after your daughter when you're busy, takes every moment to be with her that he can, even tho he knows that you're the more capable parent. You were always too good for him, and he was your bad boy fling, your mistake.

"I think you love momma more." His daughter told him, bless her unfiltered thoughts. She was probably right. Somehow, after all this time, he still found you completely stunning. He felt guilty for the way he treated you, seeing you persevere and thrive as you've gotten older. If anything, you got more beautiful with each passing day, and he couldn't be happier that his child was being raised by you, even if that meant he had to be out of the picture.

"maybe I do." He chuckled, a tinge of regret to his words. He remembered the ways he hurt you, the look on your face when he made you cry. His selfishness. It was always his selfishness that got in the way. "But I'm not good at it."

// brutally soft // III. 

baby daddy!sukuna x reader 

tags: non curse au; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different; mentions drug use and drinking; mentions cheating; sukuna being soft; unrequited love; angsty | | read this for more context & this & this

note: (I am so sorry this took me so long to respond to) but!! you don't get to leave something like this and not expect me to sweetly return the favor by meddling with your feelings the way you did mine. because holy shit, nyx, just hearing sukuna say "I'm not good at it" in a hushed, sad voice made me want to take my own ribs out.

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

"mama! guess what!" your daughter says. "I have a secret!"

you smile to yourself because she always has a secret to share these days. little, innocent things that capture her attention which seem worthy of keeping confidential.

"you know," you say as you help her into her dress. "you're not supposed to tell secrets when you have them..."

"but I tell you everything, mama!"

you lift her up in your arms, the weight of her body getting heavier by the day and reminding you of how fast she's growing.

sukuna is taking her to visit her uncle yuji, and she has been over the moon about it. you place her on the seat of her vanity, and proceed to fix her hair since sukuna will be arriving in twenty minutes, and you want to make sure that she's all set once her dad gets here. you giggle at her response, "okay, okay, what's the secret?"

she looks at you from the mirror's reflection and covers her mouth as she chuckles.

"hey, what's with the sly face?" you prod, holding a chunk of her hair gently between your palm.

"do you know ms. kiko?" she asks, referring to her pre-school teacher.

"mhmm, what about her?"

she giggles again. "well, she told told mrs. chiyo that she thinks daddy is cute!!"

your heart thumps. oddly.

you're not immune to the way that the women look at the father of your child. it's the same alluring, seductive energy that drew you to sukuna in the first place.

but it's been years since you've both been intimate together in any capacity, you're sure that he's probably got someone on call if and when necessary. considering he has more spare time than you do without a child running around, you're pretty sure that sukuna is satisfied with whatever situationship he's in. you've learned to swallow the discomfort of the idea of sukuna with other women. just like how you had to bury the hurt of the very one who tore your relationship apart.

you hum at her observation, your fingers idly braiding her hair.

it's not like you were single anymore either. you've been casually dating a lawyer on and off. it wasn't serious per se, but it wasn't a fleeting relationship where it made you feel like you were entirely free of the attachment.

he's even met sukuna at this point.

granted those dates are few and far between, but you were a single mother who worked full time.

trying to commit to a relationship is hard.

even though, you would love to share all this with...someone.

"anyway, I had to warn daddy to be careful..." your daughter interjects.

"warn him?" you repeat with a smile, her choice of words adorable.

"yeah! so, I told daddy that ms. kiko was in love with him, and asked him if I should tell her to stop..."

"stop?"

"being in love with him!" she responds with a grimace.

that makes you laugh. "and why would you do that, hmm?" you question gently for fun.

"because I know that daddy loves you more, mama!"

your heart thumps again, harder this time. so hard you feel it nearly knock the wind out of you. you clear your throat to ease the apprehension while your daughter kicks her legs with anticipation.

"and how would you know that?" "because," she insists, "daddy told me that he loves you more than anyone else in this world"

her words spill out of her, a glass of water that's been carelessly knocked over. you scrunch your brows as each word registers into your brain, soaking over your to do lists and mental checks.

"what?" you whisper as you stare at this little girl who has already carried on the conversation.

"after me, obviously," she presses - because no one can take her place when it comes to the love that you and sukuna both give her.

"wait-wait..." you say a little breathless, your hands suddenly trembling as you do your best to finish the job you started. "what did your daddy tell you? I didn't quite-"

"he said he loves you more than anyone else in the world..." she repeats, her focus on the rogue hair brush that sits at her small vanity. "so, yeah, that's why I asked daddy if I should tell ms. kiko to stop saying he's cute..."

"your...your daddy is just being silly..." you murmur, trying to underplay the statement. you slip the hairband around her second braid to secure the style in place.

impossible, you think. that's impossible.

so much time has passed between you both.

you buried that part of your past long ago.

left it and refused to look back-

"nu-uh. he said that I don't have to say anything to ms. kiko. that it's okay because he loves momma more, anyway. but daddy also told me once that he's not that good at it," she adds on, her fingers picking at the bristles of her bright purple brush, "whatever that means..."

"when did you and your daddy have this conversation..."

the realization hits her then, and she stares up at you before covering her mouth. "oops," she states, glancing from side to side, "I pinky promised daddy I wouldn't tell you that..."

before you can fish out anything else from her, she hops off her seat, her feet pattering away as she moves across the room towards her pile of plushies.

"who should I take with me?" she says loudly, brushing aside the fact that she said far more than she should. she stands with her hip jutted out and her finger pressed against her lips, her back facing you.

you have to lean against her closet to steady yourself. you do your best to rationalize sukuna's words, trying to decipher the pieces in this game of whispers.

your mind flashes to the horrid break up five and a half years ago. a memory that exists hazily in the back of your mind, to the moment of you standing in sukuna's dingy old apartment holding a lacy white bra between your fingers.

it was not yours.

"what is this?" you gasped, your breath straining as your chest rose and fell with unease. "what the fuck is this..."

it's the only time you've ever seen sukuna panicked.

your memory only captures his words in blurs.

of him drinking too much.

way too much.

of him not waking up alone but swearing that he thought he was was you.

of him not recollecting his own thoughts because he blacked out that night.

of him being just as shocked when he realized the warm body next to him was not his girlfriend.

he begged you to forgive him.

"Baby, I swear. I fucking swear I will clean up my act. I-I'll never fucking drink again. Fuck, I went too far last night. One of the guys was passing around these pills I shouldn't have fucked around with them..."

you couldn't.

you couldn't accept any of it.

you already tolerated so much with him.

the drinking, the recreational drug use, his inability to keep a job, and him nearly ending up in jail for causing fights.

but you saw so much more in that man - and yet, he proved you wrong.

this betrayal spoke volumes.

this betrayal proved to you that you were expendable to him too.

that you just weren't that important.

that shadow of that man doesn't exist anymore. not with this new version of sukuna in your life.

he almost makes you forget the past. this man; your daughter's sunlight. her knight in shining armor. the source of her joy.

he may not have been good at loving you, but that little girl has him in the palm of her hand.

and he loves her with all his might, it feels like his absolution.

"mama?" your daughter calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

she's standing right in front of you now, holding a rabbit plushie in one hand and a penguin in the other.

"can I take both?" she asks innocently, her wide eyes glittering brightly as she remains oblivious to your own personal drowning.

"n-no," you stammer out, and affectionately poke the small dimple in her cheek. "just one, my love. we all know your uncle yuji will have more for you when you see him..."

her eyes widen, "that's right!" she exclaims, "he always finds the best and softest ones!"

the bell rings, and you abruptly stand on your feet.

your throat tight, your stomach fluttering.

"daddy's here!" your daughter cheers, and instantly runs out of the room.

you pick up her weekend bag and sling it over your shoulder. you pause and exhale softly, telling yourself to relax before following in her footsteps.

sukuna's deep voice greets you first.

"look at these braids on you..."

you find them both at the foyer, your daughter already scooped up in her father's big, muscular arms. his hand is tugging at one of her braids and she's smiling wildly in his direction.

he's wearing an oversized leather jacket, the fit only bulking up his stature. your daughter is gripping his black tee between her hands, and she yanks it gently before asking: "can we go now?"

sukuna smiles and your spine shivers.

age has done wonders for him too.

"easy, princess, let me say hi to your mom first..."

your fingers grip onto the strap of her weekender bag nervously. you don't know why you suddenly feel very aware of how you look.

of the fact that you're completely barefaced and running on five hours of sleep. that your choice in clothes is a pair of unflattering sweats and hoodie which has some coffee stains on it. you desperately need to wash your hair, and are due for a manicure appointment.

sukuna turns to face you, "hey you, I didn't notice you standing there..."

you clear your throat again, "hi! sorry...I uh-I didn't want to interrupt..."

sukuna adjusts the hold on your daughter, allowing you to approach him as he couldn't take off his boots.

"she all ready for me?" he asks.

"mhmm" you answer quietly, at a complete loss for words because all you can hear is "daddy said he loves you more than anyone else in the world."

you hand off the bag to him, which he takes with ease.

"it's not too late to join us," he offers, but you give him a small smile and shrug of your shoulders.

"trapped with work unfortunately,"

sukuna glances in your daughters direction, "I tried..."

she pouts your way. "you sure, mama?"

"yeah, my love, I am sure."

you slide into sukuna's frame, doing your best to carefully not touch any part of his broad canvas. you stand up on your tip toes and place multiple kisses on your daughter's cheek.

"I love you and I am going to miss you like crazy these next two days," you state sweetly, feeling her wrap her arms around your neck to give you a hug and a kiss in return. "promise me you'll be on your best behavior..."

"I promise!!" she answers.

you find the courage to meet sukuna's soft eyes, the ease on his face doing nothing to help your shattering state.

"I guess you're both set then," you say with a sigh.

he furrows his brow at your tone, and leans forward to make direct eye contact toward you. your lips part slightly at the close proximity of his face with yours, and he tilts his head like a curious cat before asking: "you okay?"

your heat burns so naturally. your heart ready to climb it's way up your throat. you blink back in surprise at his question, and stutter out a "I-I'm fine..."

"you sure?" he presses as he casually stands upright again, like he didn't just pop the bubble of your personal space. "you seem a little off..."

"I am okay," you reassure with a firm nod, before dropping your gaze down at your feet as you shift your balance. "I-I just have a lot on my mind today is all..."

there is a gentle tap just underneath your chin, your attention lifts up to look back at sukuna. his expression is stoic, but you can see the concern in his tense jaw. he taps the space just beneath your bottom lip, your insides turning at the gesture he used to do to you countless times before.

"anything I need to be worried about?" he asks calmly, his choice of words a veil over his obvious unsettlement.

you feel like you really can't breathe then.

your mind spins to when you carelessly kissed him. to when he returned the gesture at your daughter's play.

what seemed so innocent now feels like a serious overstep.

your hand circles around his wrist and you pull him away from you. "I'm fine, Ryomen," you acknowledge politely, trying to keep your words detached but kind.

after you see them both off and shut the front door, you find yourself pressed against the wooden frame. your back weakly glides down the surface until you're sitting on the floor. you bring your knees close to your chest, shaking at the prospect not because you don't want it to be true, but because you are terrified of allowing yourself to even open your heart to sukuna again.

he broke you. he hurt you. and yet, he somehow was the only thing that healed those wounds.

he is the reason why you were able to bring your daughter into this world. he treated her with immense love and supported you in every capacity to build this imperfect little family with you.

ryomen sukuna - your dark angel. the source of your deepest pain, and the reason for your happiest joy.

the wall that you've kept between you and sukuna exists as a safety barrier. you can peek over whenever necessary, but it doesn't mean you ever have to cross that boundary.

and yet, you've caught yourself with the consideration of sitting on the ledge, or maybe even stepping onto the other side.

all it takes for you is to then see the cracks and damages of the past as a reminder of what keeps stopping you.

"get a grip of yourself" you mutter out loud.

you let go of that love. you remind yourself, and you both are better for it.

sukuna is a completely different individual now, and you are in a much happier place than you were before.

the whirlwind romance, the intense passion and addictive excitement fizzled. the sparkle having faded the moment his betrayal was revealed.

maybe your love for each other is just too destructive when intertwined so closely. but existing loosely as small strings, and tethered to the singular entity that lives and breathes because of it...

maybe that should be more than enough for you both.

and you don't know why the thought breaks your heart a little.

[jayparked]

can u do 52 and 76 with jay🥺🥺 (quite he is yandere if u wanted too?)

WARNINGS: IMPLIED MAFIA AU???? LMAO (idk where tf this came from), yandere jay? (idk if i did it right), possessive jay, he threatens to kill someone, orgasm denial, dom jay, marking, spanking, overstimulation, pet names, dirty talk, rough unprotected sex, fingering (why tf are there so many warnings for a drabble omfg)

WC: 811

"who is he?" jay demands. his jaw is clenched as he waits for your response, eyes wild and frantic.

"i- jay i told you. my father insists i be seen with him-"

jay's hand smacks the wall right by your face. although it makes you jump, you know he doesn't do it in an attempt to scare you. it's just a way for him to let out the emotions he's feeling stirring inside.

"your father," jay snarls and pulls away from you, laughing maniacally while shaking his head until his hair is falling over his eyes, "i bite my tongue, follow every order- excel at every mission assigned to me, and he still doesn't see that i'm the one he should be trusting you with." disbelief is dripping from his tone.

your shoulders relax and you take a step towards him. "jay," you whisper softly, "it's purely transactional, you know that. my father just wants me to be seen with this guy so his competition backs off and finds new territory. i promise he won't get in our way."

"i'll kill him. that'll surely get him out of the way." jay laughs again, the muscles in his back tensing even more.

"i promise what's-his-name will be gone before we know it."

jay pauses, pointer finger pressed firmly to his lips before he turns and points it at you with a sly smile. "you don't know his name."

you're about to reply when you realize it's not a question, but a confident realization. so, you smile softly and wait instead.

you didn't have to wait long. because just moments later jay is pushing your head down into the mattress with your ass up in the air; the perfect position for him to lay possessively harsh smacks against your skin while he rapidly pounds his raw cock deep inside your cunt. your neck and chest are littered with fresh bright red hickeys and bite marks, his desperate way of claiming you.

"'s too much!" you cry out, eyes shut tightly as your toes start to curl with the amount of pleasure building up throughout your body. jay's pace is relentless, his hand smacking the swell of your ass yet again making you yelp. the sting brings a fresh string of tears to your eyes, your hands fisting at the bedsheets around you as some sort of leverage.

"fuuuck, baby. i can feel this tight little pussy gripping me even more. you want to come?"

"y-yes, I- please-"

"hmm...but do you really deserve to?" he leans forward until his face is next to yours, lips ghosting over the skin of your ear. "tell me who you belong to, baby. tell me who's the only person that gets to have you like this."

you scream out his name and jay promptly rewards you with a particularly harsh thrust. finally reaching your limit, your body lets go, the dam inside you bursting while your orgasm ripples throughout your body.

"that's it, baby, oh that's it," jay groans and flips you onto your back. your eyes flutter shut, expecting him to give you a break for a moment before he chases his own high. but, he clearly has other plans.

"oh i'm not done with you." his fingers fill the space his cock just stretched out, pushing your juices back inside at a cruel, slow pace. his fingers beckon you toward him, calling you back to pleasure as he watches your body tremble with overstimulation.

tears pool from the corners of your eyes, your nails digging into his biceps, desperate for him to ground you.

jay grabs your chin and turns your face towards his, grumbling out, "look at me."

immediately your eyes are open and meeting his hooded gaze.

"you know i'll do it right?" he grunts, "i'll kill anyone who thinks they have a chance with you. you're mine. i dont care what i have to do or who i have to hurt to make sure it stays that way." there's a hungry fire behind his eyes, his fingers picking up speed.

"mmm, fuck, oh my god. jay i-" your own moan interrupts you, the sentence long lost in the void of your mind as the painful pleasure he's inflicting upon you blinds all of your senses.

"look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. can't even take a little teasing, can you? i'll make sure no one else wants you with how badly i'm about to ruin you again."

your second orgasm is already quickly approaching, your brain humming the more he talks. he's not even talking to get a response to you, he's more-so speaking his threats and intentions into the universe, willing anyone to dare test them. and you'll be damned if you didn't stand confidently next to him and watch as he burns down the world for you.

♡ for part of my 1k follower celebration ♡ masterlist

[rafeysbangs]

lachesism , rafe cameron ( series ) 08

pairing ; brother's!bsf!rafe x kook!female!reader

content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, underage drinking, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.

summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.

status ; ongoing .ᐟ

✺ navigation ; 007. 008. 009.

EIGHT, hidden heat.

YOU HADN'T SEEN RAFE IN A DAY.

you'd walked home alone after the kiss, your head spinning with questions and confusion. everything felt tangled, like a thread you couldn't quite unravel.

rafe had treated you like shit for two years, relentless teasing, cutting remarks, and a coldness you couldn't make sense of. you couldn't even pinpoint when exactly it had started, just that it had blindsided you, leaving you annoyed and secretly hurt. you used to lie awake, wondering what you'd done to deserve it. now, after what he'd said, it all made sense.

but that didn't make it okay.

he'd been horrible to you because he liked you? because he couldn't handle his feelings? the whole thing made your blood boil. how selfish could he be?

you sat on the back porch, earbuds in, music playing low as you painted your toenails. the summer heat pressed down on you, thick and heavy, matching the weight of your thoughts. you focused on the brush in your hand, trying to keep cool, trying not to let your anger take over completely.

"hey," carter's voice cut through your music as he stepped outside.

you pulled out one earbud and glanced up. "yeah?"

"topper, kelce, and ruthie are coming over in a bit. you should get cora to come too," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "we're just gonna hang out, drink a little. it's gonna be hot as hell today."

you nodded, forcing a small smile. "sure, sounds good." you pulled out your phone and sent cora a quick text.

carter was already halfway back inside when you called after him, "is rafe still around?"

he glanced over his shoulder with a shrug. "yeah, somewhere." then he disappeared into the house.

you sighed, a heavy weight settling in your chest. of course he was still here. you'd been dreading the moment you'd have to face each other again, and now it seemed inevitable.

you stared down at your half-painted toes, exhaling slowly. "great," you muttered to yourself, the word dripping with sarcasm. the impossible confrontation was just around the corner, whether you were ready for it or not.

you exhaled sharply, setting the tiny brush back into the bottle of polish with a deliberate slowness, your mind churning. confronting rafe felt like trying to unravel a storm- messy, unpredictable, and exhausting. you weren't ready to see him yet, but it seemed the universe had other plans. you glanced out at the yard, the heat shimmering over the lawn, wishing it would all melt away, including your feelings.

cora replied to your text almost immediately, promising to head over soon. you forced a smile at your phone and stood up, inspecting your freshly painted toes. you couldn't sit here and stew in your thoughts forever.

the sound of carter laughing inside carried through the open door, and you caught snippets of his voice mingled with another- deeper, unmistakable. rafe. your stomach twisted.

you grabbed the half-empty polish bottle and made your way inside, hoping to slip past unnoticed. the kitchen was alive with the faint clinking of glasses and carter rummaging through the fridge. rafe leaned against the counter, his broad frame backlit by the sunlight streaming through the window. he wasn't wearing a shirt - again - just gym shorts slung low on his hips. you faltered for a moment, your heart betraying you with its sudden, uneven rhythm.

he noticed you immediately. his gaze flickering to you as you crossed the room, and you tried not to notice how his expression softened just slightly. "hey," he said, his voice low and hesitant.

you didn't meet his eyes. "hi," you murmured, opening a cupboard and pretending to look for something.

carter, oblivious, turned around holding a case of beers. "tossing these in the cooler. topper should be here in twenty." he breezed past them, the screen door slamming shut behind him.

the silence left in his wake was deafening. you could feel rafe watching you, the weight of his presence impossible to ignore.

"are we just... not gonna talk about it?" his voice broke through the quiet.

you turned around slowly, your arms crossed. "what's there to talk about, rafe?"

he straightened, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "don't do that. don't act like nothing happened."

"fine," you said, leaning back against the counter, your voice sharper than you intended. "what do you want me to say? that i'm not angry? that i don't feel completely blindsided by the fact you've spent years treating me like shit because you have a thing for me? because, honestly, rafe, i don't even know where to start with that."

he winced but didn't back down. "i know i fucked up, okay? i know i don't deserve... any of this." he gestured vaguely toward you, his voice tight. "but i told you because i couldn't keep pretending i didn't feel the way i do."

your chest tightened. you wanted to yell at him, to tell him how unfair it was, but the words stuck in your throat. "you could've handled it differently," you said quietly, your anger ebbing into something softer, more painful. "you didn't have to be so cruel."

rafe stepped closer, his hand brushing the edge of the counter. "i know." he paused, his voice faltering.

you glanced at him then, really looked at him. his blue eyes were clouded with guilt, his shoulders tense like he was bracing for impact. he looked so unsure, so unlike the cocky, self-assured rafe you were used to. it threw you off balance.

before you could respond, the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway broke the moment. voices carried through the open window; topper, kelce, and ruthie, loud and boisterous as ever.

you pushed off the counter and walked toward the back door, needing air, needing space. "we're not done with this," you said over your shoulder, your voice steadier than you felt.

rafe didn't follow you. he just stood there, watching you go, the weight of everything unsaid lingering between them.

you darted upstairs, your heart pounding with a strange mix of nerves and defiance. you rummaged through your drawers, pulling out a bikini. if you were going to spend the day dealing with ruthie's little comments and rafe's confusing intensity, you'd do it on your terms. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, brushing your hair out quickly before slicking on a layer of sunscreen and then lip balm.

your phone buzzed. cora was two minutes away. thank god. you let out a small sigh of relief, grabbed your sunglasses, and headed downstairs to meet the chaos.

the kitchen was a flurry of voices and movement when you walked in. topper and kelce greeted you enthusiastically, topper pulling you into a quick hug while kelce gave you a fist bump. ruthie hovered nearby, offering a tight-lipped smile that didn't quite reach your eyes before trailing after topper like a shadow. you bit back an eye roll.

the group made their way down to the pool, arms full of coolers, towels, and cups. the sun blazed overhead, casting sharp, golden light over everything. you were halfway to setting up your spot when rafe came strolling down behind carter, carrying two cases of beer on each arm like it was nothing. his swim trunks hung low on his hips—too low—and he wore a grin that was equal parts cocky and carefree. your breath hitched for half a second, though you quickly busied yourself with unpacking your things.

cora arrived moments later, saving you from spiralling into your own head. "finally," you said, pulling your best friend into a hug.

"always here," cora replied with a grin, holding up a tote bag filled with sunscreen, snacks, and what looked like an entire bottle of tequila.

you claimed a couple of loungers near the pool's edge, chatting as you set your stuff down. you slipped off your cover-up, feeling the sun warm your skin instantly. you slid your legs into the water, the coolness a welcome contrast to the heat, and leaned back on your hands as you let yourself relax, at least a little.

your gaze flicked toward rafe before you could stop it. he was across the pool, standing near the cooler, and his eyes were already on you. but this time, he didn't look away. he didn't even try to hide it. his gaze was piercing, unwavering, and undeniably bold, the hint of a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. your stomach did a strange flip, but you quickly forced your focus back to cora, who was already cracking jokes about ruthie's extravagant poolside outfit.

soon, everyone settled into the rhythm of the afternoon. the speaker pumped out upbeat music, beers were cracked open, and laughter echoed around the pool. topper and kelce started an overly competitive game of pool volleyball, and ruthie made a show of lounging on a float, her perfectly manicured hand trailing lazily through the water.

you stayed on the edge with cora, chatting and occasionally letting your feet splash in the pool. but every now and then, you could feel it, rafe's gaze on you like a magnet. it wasn't just the usual glance or fleeting look; it was charged, intentional, like he was daring you to acknowledge it.

you refused to give him the satisfaction, at least not yet. instead, you turned to cora, a grin playing on your lips. "so, tequila shots by the pool later?"

"is that even a question?" cora shot back, raising her sunglasses with a smirk.

you laughed, the sound light and unbothered, even as you felt the weight of rafe's attention lingering like the heat in the air.

the afternoon unfolded lazily, the sun beating down as the group alternated between the pool and the loungers. topper and kelce's volleyball game turned into a chaotic mess of rules no one followed, ruthie kept taking dramatic selfies with the pool in the background, and cora made sure your drink was never empty.

you did your best to relax, to let yourself melt into the carefree energy around you. but it was hard, especially when rafe kept finding ways to pull your attention. a joke tossed too loudly, his laughter cutting through the music, the way he casually leaned against the pool's edge when he wasn't in the water, his sharp gaze finding you through the crowd. it was infuriating.

cora noticed too, leaning close to murmur, "why does rafe keep staring at you?"

you rolled her eyes, pretending not to care. "he's just... being rafe."

cora snorted. "rafe doesn't just look at people like that. he's trying to get your attention."

"well, it's working," you muttered, taking a long sip of your drink.

not long after, rafe made his move. the volleyball game had dissolved completely, and most of the group was lounging in or around the pool. you were sitting on the edge, your feet still dangling in the water, when he swam up to you.

"you're awfully quiet," he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

you glanced down at him, your expression neutral. "maybe i just don't have anything to say."

he rested his arms on the edge of the pool, looking up at you with that maddening, unreadable expression. "you always have something to say."

your lips pressed into a thin line. "not to you."

his smirk faltered, but only for a second. "still mad, huh?"

"mm, you think?" you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended.

rafe sighed, leaning his forehead against his arm for a moment before looking back up at you. "whatever. i'm trying to be better."

"trying?" you scoffed, pulling your legs out of the water and standing. "trying would've been not treating me like shit for two years. trying would've been telling me the truth before-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head. "forget it."

then cora called out from the pool, "tequila shot time!"

you tore your gaze away from rafe, your pulse racing. "coming!" you called back.

rafe's eyes stayed on you as you walked away.

you sauntered over to where cora stood, your best friend holding out a shot glass with a mischievous grin. your own smile widened as your fingers brushed in the exchange. "cheers," cora said, her voice light and teasing, and you nodded before you both tipped their heads back in unison. the burn of the liquor was sharp and immediate, but you barely flinched, laughing as you set the empty glasses on the table.

the evening had taken on a golden glow, the fairy lights strung above the pool casting soft halos over everything. the music was louder now, bass thumping in time with the pulse in your temples. laughter echoed through the backyard, a mix of drunken banter and the occasional off-key singing. you had lost count of how many drinks you'd had, the edges of your world blurring pleasantly as you sank into one of the lounge chairs, tilting your head back to let the breeze cool your flushed skin.

cora was off giggling with kelce and carter, their voices floating across the yard, while topper and ruthie bickered yet again, their argument punctuated by topper's exaggerated sighs and ruthie's pointed glares. you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head at their endless drama.

after a moment, you stood, the ground beneath your feet feeling just a little unsteady. the thought of water tugged at you like a lifeline, and you nodded to yourself, mumbling something incoherent as you made your way back toward the house. the warmth of the night followed you inside, the air cooler in the kitchen but still heavy with the scent of sunscreen and spilled beer.

you poured yourself a glass of water, the cold liquid a welcome relief against your palm. lifting it to your lips, you turned, only to feel an unmistakable presence close behind you.

rafe.

you froze for half a second before meeting his eyes, his grin lazy and self-assured. he looked impossibly relaxed, leaning against the counter like he hadn't a care in the world. but there was something about the way he was watching you, intense, piercing, that made your pulse quicken.

"thirsty?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

"clearly," you replied, taking a sip to steady yourself. your cheeks warmed under his gaze, though you refused to let it show.

his hands found your arms, fingertips grazing lightly over your skin as he stepped closer. his touch sent a shiver racing down your spine despite the heat.

"you're trouble," you said softly, unable to stop the small giggle that escaped your lips. you hated how easily he got to you, how effortlessly he unraveled the walls you tried so hard to keep up.

"maybe," he said, his breath warm and tinged with the strong scent of alcohol. 

you tried to summon some kind of retort, something to wipe that smug grin off his face, but your thoughts scattered the moment his eyes dropped to your lips. suddenly, the glass in your hand felt too heavy, the space between them too small.

and yet, you didn't move away.

you leaned back against the counter, clutching the cool glass of water in your hand as rafe stepped closer, his presence almost magnetic. his grin was lopsided, a mix of mischief and something softer, more vulnerable, that made your stomach flip.

"you're avoiding me," he said, his voice low and teasing, though his eyes searched yours like he was looking for something you weren't sure you could give.

"maybe i am," you said lightly, your lips curling into a small smirk. the alcohol in your system giving you the courage to challenge him, even as your heart thudded against your ribs.

his hands slid up your arms, slow and deliberate, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. "you're not very good at it," he murmured.

you laughed softly, shaking your head. "you're annoying."

he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, his voice dropping even lower. "yeah, but you like it."

your breath hitched, and you took a step back, needing the space to think clearly, though the counter at her back kept you trapped. "you're drunk," you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

he tilted his head, studying you. "so are you."

you bit your lip, trying to find the right words, but they felt tangled in your chest. "what do you want, rafe?"

his grin faltered, replaced by something deeper, something raw. "you," he said simply, the word heavy with meaning. 

the room felt impossibly small, the air thick between them. your pulse thundered in your ears, and you couldn't look away from him, couldn't ignore the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

"you make it sound so simple," you whispered.

he laughed softly, the sound almost bitter.

your fingers tightened around the glass, your resolve wavering. you wanted to let yourself believe him, to believe that he could be better, that you could be something. but the weight of the past still lingered, tugging at the edges of your mind.

"rafe..." your voice cracked, and you hated how uncertain you sounded.

he stepped even closer, his hands settling on the counter on either side of you, boxing you in without touching you. "tell me to back off, and i will. i swear. but if you want me to stop, you have to mean it."

you stared at him, your breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your throat. every part of you screamed at you to push him away, to protect yourself from the storm that was rafe cameron. but you couldn't. you didn't want to.

instead, you set the glass down on the counter, your movements deliberate. your gaze locked with his, and you leaned up just enough to press your lips to his, slow and certain.

the kiss was nothing like the first. it wasn't hurried or impulsive. it was deliberate, a choice. your hands slid up his chest, and he groaned softly against your mouth, his hands finding your waist like they belonged there.

for a moment, the world melted away. there was no past, no pain, no anger, just the two of you, tangled together in the quiet chaos of your emotions.

you kept waiting for him to pull away, or you to, but you didn't. the kisses were getting more intense, more hungry. you couldn't help how your arms clung around his neck, how his hands fit so perfectly at the small of your back. 

soon you were turning around, walking side ways up the stairs as you grasped onto each other, as if you'd let go, you'd never touch again. you suddenly had nothing else in your head, only rafe. rafe. rafe. 

you pulled away as you both fell back onto something, your bed, you were in your room. you were kissing rafe cameron, in your bedroom, on your bed. you kicked the door closed and pressed your lips against his again. 

his weight steady but not overwhelming. the room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the warm glow of the fairy lights strung up around your window and the salt lamp on your bedside. your heart was racing, your breath catching in your throat as his lips moved against your, deliberate yet full of hunger. his hand slid up your side, fingers brushing the bottom of your bikini top as if asking for silent permission.

your hands tangled in his hair as he pressed closer, your body responding instinctively to his. it was a strange thing, this mix of familiarity and newness; years of knowing each other, clashing and caring, culminating in this uncharted territory.

when his hands slipped under your bikini top, you arched into him. his skin was warm, the faint scent of salt and summer clinging to him. he let out a soft groan as your hands ran down his chest, your touch light but full of purpose.

"you drive me insane, you know that?" he murmured against your neck, his lips grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

your bikini top flew to the floor, and he paused for a moment, his eyes roaming over you like you were something sacred. it made your heart ache in the best way, the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

things escalated naturally, their movements full of a delicate, shared urgency. your bottoms joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

"don't worry, i'm on birth control" you interrupted gently, your voice steady. your lips brushed his, and your words came out in a tense whisper. 

something about those words made him lose any remaining control. his kisses deepened, his hands roamed with a newfound confidence, and together, you fell into the moment, letting everything else fade away.

"you're fuckin' killing me right now." he groaned, taking one of your tits in his hand again. you arched into him, reaching to palm him through his pants. resting his head in the curve of your neck, rafe licked over your nipple, his tongue running over the sensitive spot of your flesh. you moaned, the sound making his cock stir. 

you continued stroking him through his pants, his lips finding yours before he slipped his freehand down her body. you whimpered before you felt his middle and ring fingers dip between your folds. "fuckk, you're soaked.." he grazed her clit, your body jolting in pure pleasure.

rafe slid his fingers down to your entrance, before gliding his them back up to your sensitive bundle of nerves, admiring the way your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure, your lips wet with his spit.

despite his fingers working on you mercilessly, you felt so bare, wanting nothing more than to feel the stretch of his cock. "rafe. i want you inside of me." you looked deeply at him, "please fuck me." grunting at your words, rafe gave you a nod.

rafe moved them backward, sat up against your headboard before pulling you back down on his lap. you kissed him, grinding on his cock. rafe wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you up as you reached down and lined him up with your entrance. making sure you were looking at his face, rafe lowered you slowly, both of you moaning as you sunk down on his length.

you felt so warm and tight wrapped around him, both of you shuddering once he filled you completely. "fuck, rafe you're so big" you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. 

"look at me," he suddenly said, you breathed deeply but locked your gaze on his. "you're mine now, okay? you're mine." his possessive tone made you shudder, you nearly doubled over from the pleasure. 

"look, i need you to know that i'm sorry about the way i treated you before. because the way i'm gonna fuck you? you just might forget." she was about to question what he meant when he wrapped his arms around you tightly and started thrusting into you from below, your lips parting as a yell ripped itself from your throat. 

"oh my, fuck!" you cried, rafe smirked to himself. "the dick that good?" you buried your face in his chest, biting down on your bottom lip as his pelvis smacked the bottoms of your ass.

rafe was brutal, his tip kissing your cervix every so often as he moved his hips. "ugh fuck, your dick is so good" you cried, holding onto him tightly. he groaned and gazed up at you. he continued like this, leaving open mouth kisses along your shoulder.

he then laid you down, throwing each leg over his shoulder before slamming back into you again. with rafe pounding into you like nothing could stop him, and his fingers now rubbing your clit, it wasn't long before you were a whining mess, both you and rafe kissing as your orgasm hit you, stealing your breath away. rafe came twice, then doubling over.

when it was over, you lay tangled together, heaving. 

rafe chuckled, pulling you closer without a word. 

your heart was still racing, trying to steady your breathing and your thoughts. you couldn't believe what had just happened, and where. the faint thump of music from the pool below felt like a distant echo of reality, pulling you back to the present. your cheeks burned as the realisation hit: carter could never know. ever.

you glanced over at rafe, who was now sitting on the edge of your bed, his tousled hair falling over his forehead, his trademark smirk firmly in place. he was entirely too pleased with himself.

"he'll murder both of us," you whispered, covering her mouth as if that would somehow muffle the guilt clawing at your chest. you quickly grabbed your bikini top and started putting it back on. 

rafe rolled his eyes, leaning back lazily like this was all some big joke. "please. i could take carter in a fight."

you shot him a glare, standing up and hastily adjusting your bikini straps. "this isn't about who can fight who, rafe. this is about me not wanting to live through the fallout of carter finding out his best friend and sister-" you gestured vaguely between them, "-did... whatever this is."

his smirk only widened, his eyes darkening as he looked you up and down. "whatever this is?" he repeated, his voice dripping with mischief. "sounds like you're already trying to forget it."

you groaned, grabbing a scrunchie from your nightstand to tie your hair back. "i don't have time for your ego right now. i need to pee, and you need to act like you were doing something that wasn't me."

rafe chuckled, standing and stretching leisurely as if the weight of their secret hadn't hit him yet. "fine. but for the record, i'm going to miss the view." he threw you one last mischievous grin before heading into the guest room across the hall, muttering something about packing his things.

you rolled your eyes and pulled your bikini bottoms up, muttering curses under your breath as you headed into the bathroom. you turned the lock, stared at your reflection for a long moment, and exhaled. "what the fuck just happened?" you whispered to yourself, splashing cold water on your face.

when you emerged a few minutes later, freshly composed, cora's voice drifted up from the hallway. you froze for a second, quickly throwing on your most nonchalant expression.

cora and carter appeared outside your room, the latter looking mildly suspicious. "hey," cora chirped, stepping inside. "where've you been? we were looking for you."

"oh, just needed water and the bathroom," you lied smoothly, shrugging as you stumbled over a little, really selling the drunk pee lie. you were grateful cora was terrible at detecting lies because carter's eyes lingered on you for just a beat too long.

the sound of the toilet flushing across the hall made all three of them glance over. a moment later, rafe stepped out, his face annoyingly calm, like he hadn't just been breaking every bro code in existence.

"oh hey," cora said, her tone neutral but slightly puzzled.

"what were you doing?" carter asked, narrowing his eyes slightly at rafe.

"packing," rafe said easily, motioning toward the guest room. "gotta head back to tanneyhill soon, remember?"

carter didn't look entirely convinced, but his suspicion seemed to fade when he said, "well, there are s'mores out back. let's go before topper eats all the chocolate."

you forced a grin, and cora clapped her hands excitedly as they all made their way downstairs. rafe's arm brushed yours on the way, and you felt a rush of heat crawl up your neck, which you desperately tried to hide by falling into step with cora.

as you stepped back out into the warm evening, the fairy lights twinkling overhead and laughter ringing out from the poolside, you glanced over at rafe. he caught her eye for the briefest moment, his smirk subdued but still present, a secret written plainly across his face.

you looked away quickly, swallowing hard. you didn't know what you'd gotten yourself into, but one thing was clear. this was only the beginning.

series taglist ; @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @i2rapunzel @rafestoothbrush @drewizz @6r4cie @akobx @seehowitshines @rafeswhoooreee @vbstrewbieri @waywarddiplomatfarmmonger-blog @ariivv01 @k4yr14 @luvrcndy @teleishachrisy @importantbeardcupcake @vanessa-rafesgirl @ltristessedureratoujours @cutkoskysnix1 @kennedywxlsh @funnyalpca @eeveelizabethh @burnburritono @marleymarleymarleymarley @katiebby04 ( lachesism taglist ) in order to stay on this taglist you must interact with the posts !

[midnight-mourning]

Polar Frights

ignore this is a few minutes late, ignore this is a few minutes late-

agh, anywho, had a lot of fun with this, i saw the prompt and kknew immeditately what i wanted to write. It also tied in with something i've been wanting to do for ages, so it all worked out!

So, here's a little something for @wyervan's Yuletide au! I fell in love with them and their designs the moment I saw them and have been itching to write something for ages now (hi it's me the 'not santa' anon from a literal month ago lol). Hope you all enjoy, and if you see this wyervan, hope i did your boys justice ^^

Word Count: 1474

Words used: frigid, polar, caverns, frostbitten from @divinit3a's cafe prompts

Frigid. 

That would best describe the weather currently, as you traverse through the snow. The wind whips around you, cutting against the exposed skin of your face. Your eyes sting with tears, but you keep pushing forward, footfalls heavy as you move across the landscape. 

You'd rather be anywhere but here right now, the howling of the wind reminding you of that as you move. But, you weren't going to stop now. You'd come too far to turn back now, you weren't going to let it be in vein. 

You know what you saw, you were sure of it. Even if everyone else would call you crazy if you tried to explain, you know what you witnessed last night. 

You'd been worried about her, the blacksmith's daughter, Opal. You'd seen less and less of her since her father had caught on to you slipping her meals, playing games, and so on. You'd been so careful, but it hadn't been enough obviously. 

When you realized it had been days since you'd laid eyes on her it was late while lying in bed. It'd been haunting you, and so you decided the only course of action was to simply go and check. Sure you didn't know how, but you argued that you'd figured it out during your half-awake stumbling to their home. 

So when you turn the corner and happen to peer up onto the roof, spot a pair a of glowing red eyes upon a hulking form, well, you weren't prepared for that, to say the least. The beast doesn't notice you, not at first. Instead, it's focus is on a certain bedroom window, one you knew belonged to Opal, and the hair on your skin stands up. 

You want to say something, do anything as it takes a clawed hand and creaks open the window. But with it's large, curled horns and cloven hooves, you very much fear you're seeing the devil himself. Your frozen in your fear, unable to act as the monster ducks inside momentarily and back out with the sleeping girl in his arms. 

Your body finally responds then, in the worst way. You let out a small gasp, barely a whisper, but you still slap your hand over your mouth. 

Somehow, it heard, whipping to look in your direction. You once again stand motionless, eyes locked on that piercing crimson gaze. It makes a noise, a mix between a huff and a growl, eyes narrowing to small slits. Then, Opal stirs, and you both shift your focus to her.

She settles again, and with a final look to the, the beast is gone. It was so quick you're still not certain if it leaped off into the darkness, or just vanished into thin air. 

Regardless, you know what happened was real, at least in some part, as the blacksmith casually mentioned his daughter as 'under the weather' the very next morning. A quick search of his home by the other villagers however proved otherwise. And as soon as you heard the news, you knew what you had to do. 

You remember the stories you'd heard as a child. Children who misbehaved were punished for their wrongdoings, snatched up by the likes of a demon as penance. But you knew with all your heart that Opal was nothing of the sorts. 

A mistake, it had to be. One you had to make right. Or else.

You only had a vague idea of where you were going, there wasn't much out in this polar wasteland besides the trees and snow, but you knew the legend. If you traveled far enough, to the point your feet ached and your body was near ridden with frostbite, until you were at your absolute limit and felt the strongest desire to turn back, there would be something. What? You weren't certain. You don't think anyone was. 

As you come across another open clearing, more nothingness in your sight, your heart begins to sink a bit. With the current state you’re in, you need to find shelter soon. Despite your layers and extra precautions, you were starting to feel the chill sink in, more than usual that is. 

Just as you stop to plan what to do next, there's a sound above you of... something shouting?

You dare to glance up. 

Standing out against the stark white sky is a sleigh of bronze. Even from down here you can take note of all the intricacies of the metalwork, but you can't even focus on that when you realize attached to the sleigh are nine massive reindeer. They too gleam like the bronze, but with the steam emitting from the, along with how they effortlessly glide through the sky, it seems impossible to consider them as machine. Their movements far too alive. 

If that wasn't enough, another shout interrupts your baffled thoughts. As the sleigh passes overhead, you finally take note of its driver. Humanoid, but much like the rest of the company, he's also a machine of some sort. An automaton, you realize. Spikes encircled his head, giving the impression of a sun. His red fur coat seems unnecessary to you, but you're far past the point of questioning something so, simple, at this point. 

You rush out into the field to get a better view as it disappears off into the distance, only to realize that after a certain point, the sleigh stops getting further away. It's turning around, coming back. 

And seemingly, is heading straight for you. 

You panic, suddenly gaining a burst of energy to keep moving. You don't know what that thing wants with you, but you're not sticking around long enough to find out. 

As you cross the field you hear more yelling from behind you, he's trying to speak to you, you realize. But with the wind and your own fear blocking out your senses, you can't even begin to comprehend what he might be saying. 

As you make it to the opposite side, you see the mouth of a massive cave and not having many other options, decide to head straight for it. 

Once you make it inside, you keep going, your feet moving of their own volition as you travel further and further into the dark. It's cold, but not as cold as outside. You only stop moving when you physically collapse to the ground, exhausted. 

Taking deep breaths, you feel around in the darkness for the cave wall, crawling over and laying back against it as you try and catch your breath. 

Despite the sprint you just completed, the cold starts to seep in again immediately. You shiver, teeth chattering as you huddle your arms against yourself. You have no way to make a fire, it occurs to you. You'd been in such a rush that besides bundling up and packing a small amount of food, you'd forgotten to gather the supplies for it. 

Interestingly, either because of hypothermia overtaking your now—likely—frostbitten body, or of an unexplainable natural phenomenon, the ground below you is startingly warm. You can't make hide nor hair of it. 

You seep it up as much as you can, having nothing else to keep you warm at the moment. The cavern around you is near silent, you can just make out the wind blowing outside. 

So when you hear the clack, clack, clack, of steps against the ground, you tense. 

You can't see a thing, only able to curl in on yourself and pray it's someone friendly. Though given where you are, you doubt that. 

The steps end just in front of you, a huff of hot air blows down on you after a moment, followed by a low chuckle. 

You whimper, not daring to look up. 

A low voice echoes all around you. "Persistent, aren't you?"

Something compels you to speak up, despite your terror. 

"Have, have to be. Need to, to find her, make sure she's okay." Your teeth clack as you tilt your head up, meeting the gaze you were almost expecting. "Wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't."

Despite the darkness, you can pick up on the surprise in the beast's eyes. Then, you hear a slight jingling noise as he nods once. He extends a clawed hand down to you. 

"Come along then, it'll do her no good to see you freeze."

You stare at the offering, uncertain. 

A snort. "We don't have all day, kid. It's only a matter of time before you get frostbite. And I'd rather not hear him complain about that."

"O-okay." You take his hand, feeling the warmth even through your glove. 

He pulls you into a stand, and starts to walk deeper into the cavern. You don't know where you're going, but you suppose you don't have much a choice. 

You just hope you’ll end up somewhere warm. 

Should have definitely started this sooner but alas, got busy. BUT, at least i finished it, and i like how it turned out :) Excited to keep these up for the end of the month, but for now, thanks for reading!

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info, you can also dm me!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay

[sungiescheotluv]

champagne supernova ⭑.ᐟ park jisung

pairing: park jisung x gender neutral reader

word count: 4.2k

tags/warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, emo(ish) jisung, non-idol au.

summary: making friends as an adult is difficult. luckily for you, the rock/alternative online community welcomes you with open arms, one person in particular catching your interest.

notes: hi thereee! 😁 back again with another jisung fic, one that i actually came up with myself lmao. since getting back into the dreamies, i've been a bit surprised by (but absolutely love) jisung's taste in music. hence this silly fic, which i do hope you enjoy! thank you so much for all your recent support, it makes my heart smile whenever you like or comment on a post! anyways, happy reading! much loveeeee! <3

The concept of internet safety is lost on you. How else could you explain sharing a hotel room with someone you’d never met before in real life? 

Perhaps, you should retrace your steps. See how you’ve managed to find yourself in such a dangerous position, the front door locked and your body pinned to the bed.

Making friends as an adult is difficult. On par with counting every grain of rice in a field, you’d say.

You underestimated how easy maintaining friendship was when younger, third places like school, daycares, extra-curricular activities demanding your presence, inadvertently strengthening your social life. Not that you were the most social, you had a hard time approaching people actually, but maybe that was a part of your charm. Bringing you out of your shell, like all your friends did before your bond was cemented in tree trunks or sandy beaches. University is the last place you take this ease for granted, exposed to all different kinds of people and relationships, some platonic and not-so much. Either way, despite the barge of assignments and countless nights out, you’d make it into adulthood relatively unscathed.

Adulthood, however, doesn’t turn out as you expect. You’d been sold a dream, one eight-year old you envisioned dabbling with the stars accompanied by a lavish life and all the ice-cream you could get your hands on. Unfortunately, no star would be rubbing shoulders with you anytime soon and any that would, you’d have to pay a large sum of money to even see. A large sum you did not have. So, yeah. Just that, toxic work culture, endless bills and a whole host of other obligations linger above your head like a grey cloud.

What helps is finding the small joys in life. Slow mornings when the city is asleep, the scent of coffee at the crack of dawn, the sunshine against your skin, friends who despite their busy schedules carve out time to see you. All pieces of your life that make it worth living. Music is in there too, the art of melodies and lyrics strung together having the strange ability to carry you throughout even your worst days.

Your moods refuse to stick to a certain genre and in the midst of dark afternoons and frost covered roads, you find yourself gravitating towards alternative music. Slow, steady and aching. Like how your life moves with the severe lack of sun. It’s not a genre your circle of friends dabble in as much as you do. It’s to be expected, anyone who deviates from a standard of ‘normalcy’ was outcasted, one too many examples found in your high school days where kids got called weird and satanic for wearing a Green Day t-shirt to school. The thought makes you laugh now, but back then, when all that matters is fitting in, it was sad and suffocating. Seeing a part of yourself denied before your very eyes. Sometimes you’d hang out with those kids, bond over your collection of CDs and even go to a few gigs together. However, when Monday came around and they’d approach you and your friends, raving about the concert - you froze. Confronted into either owning yourself and being outcasted like the rest of the emo kids or ignoring them, deny yourself for the sake of social standing. 

You pretend like they’ve grown two heads, feigned confusion knitting your eyebrows together while your friends laugh and hurl insults at someone who you considered a friend - a better one than the ones at your side. And yet, you let the laughter continue, a coward with its tail between its legs as you depart, the taste of iron on your tongue.

Maybe this is payback for those poor decisions. A dead-end job, a successful but shitting ex and enough inner turmoil to make a therapist clutch their pearls. 

You abandon those friends when you get to university, getting better ones that wouldn’t make someone feel small due to their own insecurities. You make amends with the emo kids, your apology marking the true end of your friendship. You search online spaces for like-minded people, showing up as yourself and being embraced as. Everyone in the Reddit community is unbelievably sweet, sharing their music recommendations, concert wishlists and pictures of their cats. Some members, including yourself, form a closer bond, taking your conversation to a Discord server that becomes your escape in a way. A channel for heartfelt discussion that extends past your love for music. You’re not as active due to work obligations, but whenever you pop up, one member in particular always greets you with a warmth like no other. 

Linkin.parkjisung is his user, his icon the rock and roll hand sign over his face. Likes Blur, Green Day, Oasis and of course, Linkin Park. He’s like you, dips in and out, types a few responses before he’s gone again. It’s a scenario where other members grow closer, and your anxiety around speaking in the group begins. They’re already close, it seems almost futile to interrupt, right? 

What if you’re ignored? What if you’ve missed your window of opportunity? 

It’s a line of thinking that crosses your mind when you send in an apology for being inactive, moments later your phone pinging with a notification.

Linkin.parkjisung: no need to apologize! life gets busy for everyone, myself included. hope you’re doing ok (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

Other group members echo his message, sending in their own real-life obligations that the group ends up bonding over, complaining of rising car insurance and overly demanding bosses. 

It’s the start of it all, really. That one message, a hand extended to yours that breaks you out of your shell and kick starts your friendship with Jisung. From that day onwards, you move more freely throughout the server, making good friends with everyone but better friends with Jisung. Somewhere down the line, you end up privately messaging each other. What starts out as simply giving each other music recommendations (since he apparently always loves the songs/artists you send into the server) becomes sneaking into the bathroom during a busy family reunion to call Jisung about how your grandmother wore a catsuit to impress her ex, your grandfather. You grow that close, no details spared on life events. How else is there space for secrecy when you’re video calling drunk, watching festival performances of Fontaines D.C.?

In any case, you’re close. You text everyday and call every week like clockwork, namely because you live some hours away from each other. During your calls, he’s shrouded in a low darkness, self conscious of the way he looks, he says. You’re unconvinced, slivers of his features in photos he sends you with his roommates’ three cats or on call saying otherwise. Regardless, you let it slide because Jisung becomes more than his face - he becomes a source of comfort, someone who makes you laugh as much as brings you calm, someone you slowly can’t imagine your days without. In hindsight, this is where your romantic feelings develop. And with convenient timing too because one of the bands you recommended to Jisung, Wunderhorse are on tour, set to perform in a city two hours from the both of you.

“Tickets are going onsale at 10 am on Thursday,” Jisung murmurs, the clicks of his cursor coming through your laptop speaker. “Remember to set your alarm.”

“Will do. Lemme set a remin-” opening up your calendar, you see an unwelcome surprise. “Fuck.”

“What’s up?” Jisung’s voice echoes with sincere concern.

“I forgot I have a shift that day,” you groan, already knowing by the time your lunch break came, the event would be sold out. “We’re understaffed as is, so there’s no way I can get someone to cover for me.”

A deep hum vibrates from Jisung’s chest, a few more clicks of his cursor sounding before he asks in a small voice. “Well, I could just get the tickets for us both.”

“You would?”

“Yeah, I’m meant to be working from home that day anyways. And not to flex, but my internet’s pretty decent.”

You laugh. “Is that for your job or your crippling gaming addiction?”

“A bit of both,” he chuckles back, the sound blooming a warmth of happiness in your chest. “Working in CompSci has its perks.”

“So, I’m finding out,” you smile, an underlying layer of discomfort shifting you against your desk chair. “Are you sure, though?”

“Of course. I’d hate if you lost out on this knowing I could’ve done something to help,” Jisung explains. “You were the one to introduce me to them anyways. Plus we’d have a better chance of sticking together in the pit if we get them together, right?”

You swallow a lump in your throat, something taking flight in your airy chest. “Yeah, you’re right. Just send me your bank details so I can transfer you the day of.”

��Coming right up!” he jokes, and you laugh, however lame he claims himself to be.

On Thursday, he sends you a photo of his solid black high-tech set-up, a PC he’s constructed himself with more monitors than you can count. The side of his face is included in the picture, silky black hair, a brown eye and a beauty mark on his cheekbone you dream of kissing later that night. You find out he secures the tickets on your lunch break, your debt towards him being booking the hotel you’d be staying at. Due to the limited funds you’re working with, you end up getting a shared room, an option that gives him pause before he agrees in a tremored voice. You’re a bit apprehensive yourself, but you booked for two beds, so it should be fine. If worst comes to worst, and something happens between you two – like him turning out to be a sexist neckbeard loser he couldn’t take no for an answer - you’d sleep in your car (or kick him out, actually). At any rate, you had options (and a friend tracking your live location).

In no time, weeks fly by and Wunderhorse drops their latest album. It’s the best thing you’ve experienced since sliced bread, an opinion Jisung shares as you two listen to it over call late one Friday night, speaking about your favourite songs amongst other things. You don’t know how it starts, perhaps it’s a lyric that sticks out to him that he mentions or something else entirely, but suddenly, you’re reminded of high school you. How deeply you wanted to be accepted by others, and how that satisfaction depended on the person you got it from. That you preferred conformity instead of individuality, because being seen with popular shallow kids meant something to you.

“I wasn’t a good person in high school,” you find yourself admitting, your body hollowed out with guilt. Regret like ash on your tongue. “I hurt people because I valued other people’s opinions over my own. I know I was young, but-”

“You said it yourself: you were young,” Jisung comments, the serious intent in his voice catching you off guard. “The fact you recognise your behaviour and feel remorse for it shows how much you’ve grown. I mean, high school can be very unforgiving because nobody really knows who they are or what the fuck they’re doing, so it’s only reasonably to make choices you may regret. What’s important, I think, is how you’ve chosen to move forward,”

“You said it yourself, you’ve apologised to those you hurt. Not many, if any person in your position, would do the same, which shows how much you genuinely care to make things right,” you sniff, vision blurring with tears of relief and sadness. “So, if you ask me, I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself. It’s all a learning curve, you were doing what was best to protect yourself then. And now, you’re a better and kinder person because of it.”

Another time you should’ve known you’d fallen for him. Yet, you remain none the wiser. All the way until concert day, getting off work early that Friday afternoon and making the journey down to the bright city lights of Seoul. Everything twinkles and dazzles, a 180 from your modest living in your hometown. You suppose your excitement for the concert has some role in this too, but considering the lack of vibrancy in your life, you allow yourself to sink your teeth into this. Feel the goosebumps against your skin, the lightness in your limbs and the uptake in your heartbeat.

You check into the hotel first since Jisung has a last-minute team meeting at work, setting yourself up on your side of the cosy room of wooden and white hues. As you slip on your Hello Kitty headband to do skincare, a knock rasps against the door, audible above the sound of your music.

With furrowed eyebrows, you approach the door, revealing a sight that stops your heart in its tracks.

On the other side of the door is who you should’ve expected: Jisung. What you don’t expect, however, is his sharp features, black smooth hair with matching formal clothing to contrast so beautifully with his porcelain skin. The dark, ocean blue contacts he wears with a pretty pink lip tint. Not to mention that beauty mark you’ve been thirsting over for the past few months? Yeah, that’s all in eye-view now, close enough to touch and it’s this fact that sends your brain into overdrive.

While you malfunction, Jisung dips his head, a large fist curled to his lips to hide his sheepish smile. Chuckles in a bit of an awkward and embarrassed way. 

Oh my god?!

“Nice to finally meet you,” he greets, black leather overnight bag clutched to his side. A fluffy blue and pink keychain of Little Twin Stars hangs off the zip, a cute juxtaposition to his intimidating outfit. And height. God, he really wasn’t lying when he said he was nearly 6 ft. 

“I texted you I’d arrived, but you hadn’t read them,”

A forceful blink out of your trance brings you back to reality, one where you’re not openly drooling over how handsome your internist best friend is. “Yeah, sorry. I was busy getting ready.”

“I figured so,” his eyes scan your clothes - your ripped baggy jeans, leather platform shoes amongst what you have on - and his lips curve, admiration in his eyes. “You look great.”

If there weren’t societal ideals of an inappropriate reaction to that compliment, you would’ve tattooed it to your forehead, or on your lower back. Maybe ripped off your shirt and kissed him before combusting because what do you mean, this very handsome man, thinks you look great?!

“Thank you,” you blush, your body running hot like a furnace. Even so, you decide to take advantage of the situation, leaning in for an embrace that he reciprocates as you mumble into his shoulder. “Nice to finally meet you too.”

The rest of the afternoon blurs, the few moments of scattered glances and awkward silence incomparable with the ease of conversation that flows between you once his favourite song, Poppy, comes on. Catching up to speed with each other’s day as you two get ready, it’s not lost on you how domestic the scene is - how familiar, or right it feels. Jisung, in all aspects of the word, is endearing - flustered by the compliments you send his way, brightening up at the new additions to the setlist and best of you, timid with pink cheeks when he hands over a ‘first meeting’ gift - an assortment of snacks, a Hello Kitty plushie and a card that makes you coo. It takes everything in you not to sink your teeth into him, overwhelmed by the sweetness that laces his actions and words, riding the high he and the music gives you as you make your way to the venue after you’re both finished.

Long lines snake around the arena, grey clouds permeating the area as rainfall clatters to the pavement. Jisung, ever so prepared, brings along an umbrella that you share, squeezing underneath so much you feel the warmth of Jisung through his bare, very defined bicep. How someone looks so good in a silver sequin top under a tattered sleeveless black vest is beyond you. Then again, him being single is beyond your comprehension too. Considering his calm and thoughtful demeanour, coupled with his good looks, you would’ve expected people lining up by the thousands to plead their case. However, whenever you two talked about this, he’d simply say his go-to phrase and change the topic, his phrase being:

“I’ve got my eye on someone. Just working up the courage to ask them out.”

Whoever managed to catch his eye, you’d thought to be lucky. Maybe they’d saved a small village in their past life because as people push when the doors open, Jisung shields you from any damage, reminding you how good of a romantic partner he could be. Especially so when you’re inside and he snaps all your photos, accompanying you to the bar and merch table where you get matching t-shirts before he keeps them with him so you’re free throughout the concert. Dimmed red lights and chatter fill the spacious hall, a flood of warm bodies surrounding you as you peer at the stage, the band all set up and ready to go come showtime. You sing along to the host of songs the venue plays beforehand, enough nudges in the shoulder to get Jisung to sing along and of course - of course - he has a beautiful voice too. At this point, you were convinced he either had a missing toe or had weird opinions about the order of cereal because the more you spent time with him, the more he shines in your eyes.

Eventually, the chatter dies down and all lights go off, screams rising through the crowd as Wunderhorse comes onto the stage. Buzzing at a frequency unheard of, you bounce off the balls of your feet, hand holding Jisung as you exclaim, “It’s them! It’s really them!”

Missing how flushed Jisung becomes at the contact, you sing with all your heart - offkey and all - to their opening song, Midas. The energy is through the roof, a dizzying world of flashing lights and music that retches the lyrics straight out of you. In a moment’s chance, Jisung and you turn to each other mid-song, smiles bright as the stage lights outline your damp faces, chest heaving with a mouthful of lyrics in their wake. It’s the happiest you’ve been, holding his hand like this, and as the night winds to simmer, you sway to slow songs and thank your lucky stars for finding your way back to this.

After the show, you two chatter with other adoring fans before trekking to your nearby hotel, stomachs growling for food. Jisung finds a great Chinese place that delivers until 2 am, a gesture you simper at, unaware he’d even remembered you’d liked the cuisine. At this point, you’re drained in the best possible way, a dull ache in your feet but riding a high of something you’ll remember forever. 

Now, you’re up to speed. Great. Let’s get back to your current dilemma.

Somehow, someway, your unlaced and stubborn platform shoes cause a stumble, one that Jisung tries to save you from but ends up caught in the mix. How, you might ask? Well, you’re not entirely sure but what you definitely know is that you’ve fallen on one of the beds, Jisung’s body caging yours as he braces his own fall. Face-to-face. With you.

Ok.

You’re close enough to share a breath, within reach to see his long lashes and shaky pupils that dart from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again. Suddenly, the room temperature dials to an unprecedented heat, walls closing in on you two as you lie in waiting. Waiting for the other to make their move. To lean in or pull away, heads or tails on a coin.

His phone rings, cutting through the tension-filled air with a knife. The moment, gone. 

“You okay?” he rasps, a knit in his eyebrows as if he’s holding himself back. You blink wordlessly, your answer in an absent nod. “I’ll, uhm…get the food.”

It’s not a suggestion, nothing that you can object to, particularly when he’s long gone and you’re clutching at your chest, months of infatuation knocking the breath out of you.

When Jisung returns minutes later, you’ve turned the TV on, preparing to fill the silence if need be. It proves necessary, only groans of pleasure and compliments to the chef shared between you two as you eat your weight in noodles. Not much is said when you’re getting ready for bed either, brushing your teeth together as if you're a couple and settling into separate beds, all the lights turned off.

Still reeling for the fall, and convinced his shallow breaths allude to his slumber, you’re startled by the call of your name, head turning towards Jisung beside you.

“Yes?”

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks before clearing his throat. “That was…some fall.”

You can say that again.

“I’m ok,” you lie. You’re on high alert, frazzled at every end with a heart you’ve just realised longs for the man not even two metres away from you. “Are you?”

Silence. The only feedback you hear is the crinkle of his duvet as he shuffles in his bed.

“Ask me another question.”

You turn to him, shrouded in darkness. “Like what?”

He doesn’t speak again, lets the silence devour the space between you before he says. “Ask me about the person I’m interested in.”

Water that rivals the arctic pours down your back, a harsh call to reality as you remember. Right, he has someone he’s interested in. Someone who he’ll devout his time to, listen to their music recommendations and hold their hands at concerts. And you? Well, you’ll still be friends, but maybe not as close. Maybe not even friends at all.

The thought closes an iron fist around your heart.

“Why haven’t you asked them out?” is what you manage, because it’s on your mind - what time and place he’ll find himself in when he confesses his feelings.

“Because I’m scared,” he admits, small and in a whisper. “Considering we met online, it’s kind of hard to gauge their interest or read any signs. You don’t give me much to work with,”

You still. “I don’t?’

“I mean, I haven’t been too obvious, but I’m crazy about you,” he confesses. “I love the light in your eyes and the kindness in your heart. You’re so deeply human and live life like it’s your first and last. There’s no one like you and I think the idea of knowing how special you are triggered my fear of rejection. Because what would my life be without watching festival performances while drunk with you? What would it be if you didn’t laugh at my lame jokes and didn’t command my every thought?”

Jisung shuffles again, a flicker of dim light in between you two at a lamp source as he stares over at you, wholehearted and vulnerable. “It’d be an empty one - not worth living.”

Slowly, your body brings you upwards, the two of you hanging off the edges of your bed. So close if you’d reach out, your hands would touch. 

“When?” you croak, unable to meet his eyes. “When did you…start feeling this way?”

His eyes lower, a slight curve to the corner of his lips. “Around November?”

Electricity zaps your back straight. Five months ago? “When we joined the server?”

“Shortly after that,” he admits, a coy grin breaking out against his flushed features. “I was having a really hard day and you’d recommend a song in the chat, Favourite by Fontaines DC, and said how nostalgic and hopeful it felt to you. I gave it a listen and…it was like a battery in my back. I cried, but I also smiled too because I understood what you meant by it all,”

He threads his fingers together, peering up with shining eyes as he adds, “it felt like a peak into your soul, and mine too….I think that’s where it started.”

Your hand finally reaches out, overlaying his as tears fill your sight. “You know you’re my favourite, right?”

“No one stood a chance after that drunk video of you singing along to Champagne Supernova,” you share a laugh, reminiscing of the video he accidentally sent into the server one December night. A die-hard Oasis fan till the end. “I mean it. There’s no one I’d want to spend my days with, listen to music with and discover all there is to life. No one but you.”

His bottom lip gives a wobble, hands unearthing from yours as his thumb grazes your knuckles, bringing the hand up in a searing kiss. One he looks you right in the eyes for as he says, “Can we push the beds together please?”

You bark out an unexpected laugh, fondness shaping your smile as you speak with all of your heart. “I would love nothing more.”

[starlit-writer]

in sickness and in health, ch. 3 - alpha!simon riley x omega!reader

here is chapter three!!!! this chapter did NOT go the way i thought it would, but i promise we're getting to the whole simon groveling and begging and all that lovely stuff soon - i just cant seem to stop writing these two FIGHTING! as always, if you want to be added to the tag list to make sure you stay up-to-date, let me know in the replies! eat well, lovelies <3

if you want to understand more about my omegaverse au, you can look at my masterpost here, and it'll help explain all of the intricacies that may or may not be explained well enough in these short-form fics!

word count: 4,208 chapter two masterlist ao3 link

You were in a forest, surrounded by pines. Snow was drifting down slowly, coating the needles around you in light flakes before they melted from the heat of your breath as you stared up at the grey sky. You felt… at peace, for the first time in a long time. You were wrapped securely in the knotted roots of one of the pine trees as they wrapped themselves over and between the straps of your tactical vest, the wood gently resting against a sticky scarlet mark where your heart was supposed to be. You turned your head as much as the roots would allow, and you could see flames in the distance of the forest, a cacophony of gunshots and explosions ricocheting through your ears as the scent of smoking pine and wet gunpowder reaches your nostrils-

You woke up with a start, a gasp of air drawing through your dry, chapped lips sharply, the movement causing your aching ribs to spasm in a coughing fit. Your hands flew up to your chest to check for the wound that you were so convinced would be there, only to be met with the soft, warm, flesh of a massive tattooed bicep that was flung across your chest. But the everpresent scent of smoked pine, wet gunpowder, and a freshly-lit cigarette was still burned into your nostrils.

It was just a dream.

You blinked a few times, the light filtering through the blinds too bright for your blurry eyes to handle. You tried to lift your head, to move, but your body felt far too heavy and sluggish. You were reduced to your basest of instincts - you felt better than you had in months, but it felt like your omega side had completely overridden your logical one. You tried again to speak, to move, anything, but all that came out from your too-dry mouth was a cracking, reedy omega whine.

That made the heavy arm that was draped over your chest move. It quickly lifted off of you, the bed that you were laying on dipping and shifting like sand underfoot as the massive bulk next to you moved. You flinched slightly as rough fingertips gently touched your cheek, the image of Simon’s face swimming above you as a look of concern furrowed his brow. Oh. That would explain why that scent was swimming around you. If you two had been in a normal, healthy mating bond, it probably would have been easier to recognize. But after the months of distance, and neglect, you had forgotten your own alpha’s scent.

You felt it as your own face morphed into a matching expression. Where were you? Why is Simon here? What the fuck happened? You opened your mouth to say something scathing, the words nipping at the tip of your tongue, but before you could speak, the back of Simon’s hand traced down your cheek, almost reverent in his guilt.

“Shh, shh, love. You’re okay, you’re okay. ‘M ‘ere. Just don’t… don’t move, okay? I’ve got some water here for ya-” his voice broke off as he twisted his torso, keeping one hand securely under your head while the other grabbed a white styrofoam cup with a bright white plastic straw sticking up from the lid and brought it back over to the bed. You had to fight to keep your expression neutral, as the sight of the sterile-looking aerated plastic and the very thought of drinking the disgusting water contained inside made your stomach dip in disgust.

Simon could have cried when he felt your disgust through the bond, the cavernous darkness that had shrouded you from him in his mind finally lifting enough to allow him to feel you again. However, that didn’t stop your feeling of disgust, even if it was directed at the apparently devil-like cup in his hands and not at him, from lodging into his chest like the blade of a knife. He winced and quickly moved the cup away from you, frantically looking around his quarters for some other source of water. When he didn’t find one, a short curse fell from his lips as he glanced back at you sympathetically, regret and guilt shining in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I- I just grabbed this from medbay… there’s some vitamins and electrolytes and whatever else you combat medics throw in it, and I figured that that would help since, you know, you’ve been asleep for three days.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Three days? Three days!? You could vomit, and you probably would have if there had been anything in your stomach.

Simon sighed, screwing his eyes shut as he realized that was probably not the best way to tell you that information. He brought his hand - the one still holding that damn cup - up to his face, rubbing his eyes with the back of his thumb. Gods, he sucked at this. He ran his hand down his face and moved to get up from the bed. “I’ll just… yeah, I’ll just go get you some, um, different water in a different glass and… yeah, I’ll be right back.”

As he moved to get up from the bed, your hand weakly shot out, your fingers feebly wrapping around his wrist. Simon glanced down at your hand in thinly-veiled shock before he looked at you. You were just as shocked. You were still angry, at least, you knew you should be, but the only thing you could focus on was the way your omega writhed in pain at the mere thought of Simon walking away from you again.

“You need to drink some water. And if you won’t drink it out of this,” he said as he raised the cup, “then I gotta get you something else.”

You looked up at him pleadingly, an absolutely pathetic look on your face. You didn’t have the strength or energy to fight against the instincts right now. Everything in you was screaming and clawing at the idea of Simon leaving, even just to get you more water, and your instincts didn’t care about how it looked, or if it made you seem like you forgave him and were willing to forget everything that happened. You knew, logically, that you weren’t, but logic was so far out of the realm of control, the only thing reacting in your mind was your wounded omega, desperate for the proximity of her alpha.

“I don’t wanna force you to drink this if it grosses you out that bad.”

Another needy, desperate whine was his only response as you let go of his wrist, your shaking hand held outstretched to take the cup. It was a clear message - I’ll drink it. Just don’t leave.

Simon’s gaze softened as he sat back down on the edge of the bed, bringing the straw close to your lips. You closed your eyes, the moment feeling far too intimate for the reality of your relationship with Simon as your dry, chapped lips wrapped around the plastic of the straw. After a few moments of forcing down the polluted-dirt tasting water, Simon slowly and gently pulled the straw away from you, his free hand coming up to your face to brush an errant strand of your hair behind your ear. His heart ached as your eyes fluttered open, still cold and guarded even as he could feel your omega pleading for him to stay through the bond.

“Feel better?”

You nodded slowly, the movement disjointed and sluggish as you brought a shaking hand up to wipe a small droplet of water off of your lips. “Yeah,” you muttered, the words thick and gruff with disuse. The thanks that should have followed that response stayed stuck in your throat like a pill that was much too big to swallow.

Simon nodded in response as he sat the cup back down on the bedside table. He then grabbed a wrapped protein bar, and tore open the packaging with his teeth. With the unwrapped protein bar in hand, he turned back to you, holding the bar near your face. “Eat.”

A pause, a short breath leaving Simon’s lips as he realized that a demand was probably not the best way to get you to do something at the moment.

“Please,” he amended, his voice softer, gentler. “You need to get your strength up,” he added, shifting the bar a little closer to your lips.

You knew he was right, ultimately, but it wounded your ego, accepting his help after all of the neglect he had put you through. You sighed softly and shifted on the bed with a groan as your muscles protested against the tiniest of movements. Simon’s hand quickly wrapped around your aching shoulder to help shift you on to your side, and you settled back down into the bed, lifting your head up slightly to take a small bite out of the protein bar. You figured it would be impossible to swallow, as all food had been the last few months, but you were shocked to find it easy to get down. You sat up slowly, achingly, agonizingly slowly, but Simon, shockingly, was there to support you. You reached out and took the bar from him, suddenly ravenous.

Simon watched as you all but scarfed down the protein bar, his gaze softening with guilt. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at his now-empty hands. He hated himself, the guilt and regret of being so blind to you throughout the entirety of your marriage, your mating bond, eating him alive.

You froze, mid-chew of the last bite as you heard his murmured apology. You didn’t know how to respond, feeling like a deer in the headlights of his sin.

“Simon…”

“No, I… I am. Gods, angel, you have no idea how sorry I am. I was such a dick to you, such a bad fuckin’ alpha, and I know that my words probably don’t mean much, or, really, anything to you, but… if I could reverse time, do it all over again, I…”

“Simon, stop,” you croaked out, your gaze fixated on the comforter that pooled against your sweatpant-clad legs, anything to keep your eyes off of him. You couldn’t look at him. It was all too much, far too quickly, and you had nowhere to even begin to parse through the emotions and pain that still existed under your skin like a thrashing beast, even if it felt more subdued than it did three days ago. You didn’t want to think too hard on that, though, wanted to ignore the way your alpha’s presence, his scent calmed the ugly thing, if only slightly.

You couldn’t - wouldn’t - forgive him. Not right now. Sure, he had kept one promise; he had stayed with you, but in the grand scheme of things? It didn’t mean much. You smoothed your hand over the soft comforter, balling the now-empty wrapper of the protein bar in your other hand. Too many emotions, too little time. You felt like you were trapped between your base omega desires and the reality of your situation. The wrapper crinkled in your hand louder as your grip became tighter, the atrophied muscles in your arms shaking with exertion and emotion.

You felt Simon’s hand as it inched closer to you, more than likely to try and bring you comfort, but you couldn’t take it. Right before his hand touched yours, you jerked it away, throwing the wrapper into some random corner of his room in your panic. You quickly scrambled out of the bed, your need to get away from him, from the situation, much greater than any of the aches and pains of your neglected body. You stood in the center of the room, your chest heaving from the exertion as you steadied yourself on your feet, your legs wobbling beneath you.

Simon just stared at you, wide-eyed and frozen.

You stared right back. Your mind was a mess, fractured between your omega and your logical, rational side. Your omega was screaming, tearing at the confines of your skin at the very idea of leaving your alpha, but you pushed it away. You felt cornered, and you were lashing out like a feral cat.

“I- I gotta go.”

And with that, you turned on your heel, and all but ran out of the room. Simon was still sitting on the edge of the bed, shellshocked and staring at the space in the center of his quarters that you were just occupying.

–

It had been about a week since you had left Simon’s quarters. That first day, after you had left, you were violent, volatile - your own quarters destroyed as you tried to release all of the pent-up emotions by throwing anything and everything you could get your hands on before you collapsed into little more than a heap of tears in the middle of all of the broken glass and ripped papers. You had slept there that night, on your floor, but when you woke up, there was one of Simon’s sweatshirts outside of the door of your quarters with a note.

I know you don’t want to see me right now. I know you’re pissed, and you have every right to be. But the bond is still fragile. Just keep this around, please? -Simon

Part of you wanted to burn it, still so full of rage and pain, but the desperation of your omega had you pressing your face into the soft, plush fabric, a small omega purr unconsciously pulling past your lips. As soon as the sound of your purr reached your ears, you threw the article of clothing onto the ground as if it was a ticking incendiary bomb. It was still there, in that corner, but it cursed the entirety of your quarters to smell like Simon, the scent of smokey pine, wet gunpowder, and the first drag of a cigarette cloying to everything, no matter how many of your own clothes you piled on top of it.

The rest of that week had passed by you like a blur. You had mostly stayed in your quarters, focusing on how to control and push down your omega desires, instead replacing them with the rage you knew you should feel towards Simon, definitely not because it was the only place that you could still smell him, certainly not. It was just that the thought of being seen out and about when your emotions and physical health were so volatile seemed like it wouldn’t be the best of ideas, and that was definitely the only reason.

But, today was the first day that you had actually gotten up and took a shower. Looking in the mirror, you noticed that your skin looked much more lively, the sickly grey of the bond sickness had dissipated, and the bruises that had covered your skin had all but faded away. It made you feel… wrong almost, to be, to look, “fixed”. The torment that you had undergone still lived and breathed in your very bones, and seeing yourself without the physical marks of it, even if they were self-inflicted, felt wrong. So, you quickly tugged on some workout gear, grabbed your keys, and left your quarters, determined to make someone pay for the grief and rage that thrummed under your skin.

You dumped your keys and your sweatshirt in a corner by the sparring ring, stretching for a moment as you scanned the gym. Plenty of people to spar with, but, more importantly, no Simon. And, before you knew it, an unsuspecting, far too cocky beta recruit was swaggering up to you. He was new to the base, you could tell. Fresh out of basic training, by the looks of it. You pushed a smirk down off of your lips, as you wanted the challenge. Wanted him to fuck up just so you could absolutely let loose. You batted your eyelashes up at him, really playing into the whole weak omega stereotype.

You ran your gaze up and down the recruit, sinking your teeth into your plush lower lip. You watched as the recruit’s eyes lit up at your actions, obviously taking them as flirtatious. Meanwhile, all you had wanted to do was knock him off his axis, get him thinking hazy.

The recruit smirked, rubbing his hands together. “Name’s Conwell. James Conwell. Need a sparring partner?”

You grinned up at him, the expression so fake and sickly-sweet as you leaned towards him slightly, clasping your hands in front of you. If it pushed your tits together, what was the harm in that?

“Oh, yeah, James, that’d be great! I might need a few pointers though. You okay with that?” The grin that the recruit gave you was downright predatory as he nodded and slipped between the ropes, bouncing around and shadowboxing, obviously trying to show off. You quickly stifled a laugh behind your hand, clearing your throat before you slipped between the ropes as well. Gods, new recruits, especially new beta recruits, were such easy marks. They always had such a chip on their shoulder, desperate to prove themselves, and certainly not above pretending to be something they weren’t to do so. And as you settled into your side of the ring, you could smell just how desperate this recruit was to be something he wasn’t.

He had sprayed fake alpha pheromones on himself. The scent was nauseating, making your stomach roll. But, you pushed it down. You’d play the part, let him get one or two good hits in, then it would be game over for the poor boy.

“How do I start this?” You asked innocently, looking down at the smooth vinyl that coated the floor of the ring. The beta’s (Jim?) grin widened as he sunk into his own fighting stance.

“Just like this, pretty girl.”

You suppressed a disgusted shudder at his words, painting that saccharine faux-innocence on your expression as you pretended to copy him, sinking into your own stance. Yours was a much stronger base, your legs spread wider to better accommodate your movement, your fists actually tucked up to your face as protection, unlike the way the beta kept his hands low over his bare chest, obviously believing the lie that you were no threat.

“You should probably swing first, you know, show an omega like me how an alpha does it.”

That did it. His eyes glinted with that repulsive possessiveness that every douchebag gets when you stroke their ego just right, when you pretend to believe a lie that they’ve tried so hard to force to be truth. And so he did, but it arched wide, giving you the perfect opportunity to dodge under and land a jab right in the left side of his ribs. You popped up, a glee-filled smile on your lips, genuine this time, as you looked at him as he gasped for air, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

He blinked, bewildered, as his head swiveled from side to side in an effort to find where you went. Once his eyes zeroed in on you, his lips pressed into a thin, angry smile, the kind that someone would give an annoying child after they spilt their snack for the third time in a row. “Wow, quick learner, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess!” Your words were bright, your eyes filled with a predatory glint that you tried to hide as you beckoned him tauntingly. “C’mon! That was fun!”

The beta growled in a terrible impression of an alpha rumble, swinging out in the exact same way. It forced you to wonder what the fuck they were teaching these kids in basic training nowadays. The velocity of this punch was slow, and you knew you had to let him get at least one punch in if you wanted this to last any longer than a few minutes before he stormed off with his tail tucked between his legs in embarrassment. Normally, you would have braced yourself for a hit that you knew was coming, but something else hit you before the punch could. Smoked pine. Wet gunpowder. First hit of a cigarette after a stressful mission. It pulled your attention just long enough to allow the beta’s punch to land squarely in your ribs, the force of the impact much greater than the velocity, which promptly knocked all of the air from your lungs. You stumbled back a little, but you forced your gaze to stay on your opponent, not allowing yourself to get distracted by the pheromones that had settled over you like an oppressive coat.

That was, until, you heard an actual alpha growl emanating from the door of the gym. It was so loud, so full of anger, that it caused everyone to stop what they were doing. You rolled your eyes, shaking out your shoulders as you sank back down into your fighting stance, but your opponent was frozen, his hands dropped as he turned to look at where the growl had come from. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who he was staring at. You sighed, your head dropping as you saw Simon’s long, purposeful strides carrying his massive bulk up to the ring. You heard your opponent get pulled from the ring, and before you knew it, Simon was in front of you, lifting your head up with gentle fingers.

“Did he hurt-”

You forcefully knocked his hand off of your chin, your eyes hardening. A small omega growl ripped past your lips as they curled up in displeasure. “Oh my gods, fuck off! We were just sparring!”

Simon’s gaze darkened as he looked down at you, but he, thankfully, didn’t touch you again. “You smell like fuckin’ shit. What, fake pheromones are what does it for ya now, huh?”

Your growl increased in volume as you shoved against his chest. The anger, pain, and guilt that swam between the two of you was almost tangible, the tension thick enough to cut through with a knife. You didn’t care. “Don’t pretend like you know anything about what ‘does it for me’,” you mocked as you put sarcastic air quotes around the repeated words.

Most of the gym had cleared out by now. Everyone knew how volatile the two of you could be separately, and when they sensed the heightened anger and emotions between you two, they quickly disappeared. For the few stragglers that were left, Simon fixed them with a glare hard enough to freeze an ocean, and they quickly packed their things and also scurried away.

“You wanna fucking punch something?” Simon growled as he took a step closer to you. “Punch me. Not some stupid prick tryna peacock around as if he’s an alpha. You fuckin’ smell like that shit ass cologne he was trying to pass off as his own.”

A downright predatory grin spread over your lips. You were pissed. Pissed that he was here, that he had taken away the one outlet that you knew you had to work through all of these emotions. So, you bit back. You knew you were playing with fire. It was one thing you were always good at, part of the reason the team, especially Simon, called you spitfire.

“Oh, is that what that was? It smelled so good, I thought it was real.”

You were lying, and the smirk that spread over Simon’s lips confirmed that he knew it too. You shook your head, blowing out a frustrated breath as you moved to step around Simon. You didn’t want to be around him right now. His hand shot out to grab at your wrist, but you jerked it away from him.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” you bit out as your teeth ground together. “I didn’t need you to come save me, and you had no right to storm in here like this.”

“No right?” Simon seethed lowly as he turned his head to look at you. “No right? Pretty sure that’s my fucking teeth marking that mating gland right there on the side of your neck!”

You froze, slowly turning to fully face him now. Your expression was set into a mask of absolute, unbridled rage that Simon had never been on the receiving end of. Your fists were clenched impossibly tight at your sides, and you could feel the anger rolling off of you in hot, tangible waves. You had known Simon didn’t know how to be a mate, but you had never imagined that this is the way he would deem acceptable to treat you. No matter what, you were a soldier first, more than capable of taking care of yourself, you didn’t need him breathing down your neck like some sort of denmother. It almost seemed like he was trying to overcorrect from his mistakes, becoming overbearing and overprotective. That almost pissed you off more.

“If that is how you think this bond is going to go, especially after everything you did, I will cut this mating bond out myself. Do not test me.”

You didn’t wait for a response. With that, you stepped off of the mat, grabbed your things, and walked out, not even bothering to look behind you as your hand rubbed harshly over the mating bite on your neck.

---------------------------------

as always, thank you so so much for the support, and keep an eye out for chapter four! tag list: @kerst666 @misscaller06 @letaliabane @sai-int @itsmeamysworld @massivescissorsthingperson @aeeliy @alkalineapparition @cringeycookies

[wandonthecouch]

farmers market jegulus au - snippet <3

another snippet for you all! for context, james, effie, and baby harry have a tent where they sell their farm's produce, and regulus and sirius have their text (next door ofc) where they sell their art - regulus with his wood carving/sculptures and sirius with his paintings. oh and remus is an Australian cowboy at @venear-tmblr 's insistence and I love it so here you go!

---

“Morning, Mr. Black!”

Regulus smiled at the small ten-year-old, one that he rarely showed in public. 

“Harry, you can call me Regulus, you know,” he leaned over the foldable table separating the two, peering over into the tent next to his, taking in the array of fresh vegetables, fruits, and jams. “Has your nan got any of that goat cheese yet?”

Harry frowned, running a finger over the duckling carved out of mahogany, and then the giraffe made of oak. “I don’t think so. Da says Jenny is being real stubborn lately.” 

Regulus let out a light chuckle. “Oh, Da says that, huh?” He began rummaging through his tote bag slung over his foldable chair, making a noise of triumph when he found the pouch with the small carved giraffe. “I made you something.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, a big toothless grin on full display (he’d lost one of his front teeth last week) that Regulus couldn’t help but mirror. “Really?”

Regulus nodded, holding out the pouch. Any other kid would have snatched the present out of his hands in seconds, but not Harry – he didn’t have a greedy bone in his body. It’s one of the reasons that Regulus actually tolerated the child, instead of being blatantly disgusted like he was others. 

Harry gently accepted the gift, turning the giraffe around in his hands. 

“Thank you, thank you! This is so cool,” Harry gushed, looking up at him over his glasses. Then, in almost a whisper, “You remembered.”

Regulus, to his surprise, found himself holding his breath in anticipation. Who the fuck was he? He had clients booked for his art years in advance, he’d made thousands off of his wood carving alone. Why did he care about what some glass-wearing, crooked-smiled child at a farmer’s market thought of anything he’d made?

“Harry, love, can you give me a hand—”

Oh. That’s why. 

James appeared from behind his family’s tent, carrying a wooden crate full of turnips. Fucking turnips. The man was carrying turnips and Regulus was trying not to drool at the sight. 

Disgusting. 

“Oh, hey, Reg,” James stopped, eyes softening, mouth turning up in a way that made Regulus think his heart was swelling, almost too big for his chest. “How’s your morning been?”

It wasn’t until Harry looked at him, brow quirked, that Regulus realized he needed to actually respond. 

“Good, not too busy,” he stumbled over his words. James adjusted the crate in his arms so he could hold it with one arm (oh god), and reached down to pick the giraffe out of Harry’s hand. 

“Oh, this is cool! I bet it’ll sell right away.”

Harry furrowed his brows and made grabby hands at his father, who promptly returned the figurine. “It’s mine, Da. Mr. Black–Reg made it for me.”

James’ eyes resembled warm honey, their color especially bright in the early morning sun. “Really?”

Regulus shrugged nonchalantly, looking between the two and fiddling with his rings. “Well, yeah. We spent all last Sunday talking about how he wanted to see the giraffes at the zoo in town, and how they were his favorite animal, so…”

James’ smile was blinding. He ruffled Harry’s hair, who grumbled under his breath but leaned into the touch. “Did you say thank you to Regulus?”

Harry, huffed, seemingly done with the conversation. “Yes, Da. Moony says being polite is sexy.”

Regulus coughed out a laugh, while James sighed and shook his head at Harry’s retreating figure. 

“I swear, he’s such a bad influence sometimes,” James muttered, turning to set the crate down on the ground by their tent, giving Regulus a full view of… everything in his athletic shorts. Regulus sucked in a breath, willing his cheeks to not turn pink. He couldn’t even blame it on the heat– the air this morning was anything but humid. Perfect for a day at the market. Not perfect, Regulus deduced, for being around James Potter all day.

--

thanks for reading, lmk what you think!

[eclipseberrycake]

Virulent (MBC x Reader)

AN: Hey Guyysss-

It's me :) Have I annoyed you all yet? /lh Anyway, I was on tiktok as I always am these days when people annoy me (Ginger mains- when I catch you ginger mains-) I noticed a lot of redesigns of the mains twisted forms to turn them lethal and yk what? Hell yeah. So I've been brain rotting and decided to share with you!

This is kind of far off from what I normally post but I still wanted to share with you, plus it's still MBC! And Distractor! Reader. Think of it as an AU! Of that universe.

Warnings: Depictions of horror themes, talk of mutated twisteds, threats of death (No one dies dw, I'm too soft for that), if you don't vibe with zombie apocalypse vibes, then this one may not be for you, and that's okay! Also kinda shorter than normal because I'm tried and had an assignment due that I forgot about :(.

☁ With all the mains back, runs had surprisingly gotten easier, if you did say so yourself. It was much easier to distract when you knew where the twisteds were and who they were the second you stepped out of the elevator. And having Shelly running around giving boosts made the time spent distracting cut shorter and shorter. Plus having Pebble right there as well was always a bonus.

☁ And of course, your sweet moonshine and berry boy. It was always a pleasure to be with them on runs and have them shadow you as you went; It was like a safety net in a way, moreso when Cosmo came along. It was very rare there was a run going on where one of you was going, and the others did not follow.

☁ That being said, there were times you missed the simpler runs with just you, Poppy and Boxten and maybe a few other commons. The mains all had their inside jokes and experiences together that, regardless of how hard Sprout and Astro tried not to, sometimes left you and Cosmo feeling like the odd ones looking in.

☁ Which is where you were currently, joking and laughing with the other commons as you all tried to go for a long run. It had started early this morning, and while you were unsure how long you were down there, you were sure it was well past lunch. The others knew you'd be gone a while though and planned their days accordingly.

☁ You hadn't even realized the true extent of how far you'd gone until Dandy was popping up, eyes frantic despite you all buying regularly. He eyeballed you as you approached, making you hesitate when reaching for the band on a pillow. "...Is there something wrong?"

☁ "Floor 50. I'm not even down here very long." He spoke and your blood chilled at the tone, Cosmo quickly threading his fingers with your own. Dandy noted this before refocusing back on you, eyes sharp and calculating. "Do you know what you're stepping into?"

☁ "I assume it's no different than any other floor." You sneer back, quickly exchanging your tapes for a bandage, watching carefully as Cosmo did the same.

☁ Dandy took them almost robotically, lips twitching just a bit. "...You've never been this far, have you?" You haven't, you didn't even think there were this many floors, but you weren't going to tell him that. Whether he saw it on your face or not, he grinned. "I'll leave the elevator open. As a one time grace for you all to return at any time." He yanked on the lever suddenly, giving a bright wave. "Good luck! You're gonna need it!"

☁ The warning, from Dandy nonetheless, does little to ease your nerves, but you still step out of the elevator with a kiss for Cosmo before taking off. It was a replica of the Christmas Toon's floor, so the twisted's should've been easy to find. Only...you didn't find anything.

☁ You immediately called out to be aware of objects on the ground, because as much as you loved Blu and Oakley, you didn't want a repeat.

☁ Still, the air felt...different then it did in that time. Like something sinister was watching, waiting, hunting. Taking off once more, you quickly rush to find Cosmo, finding him working on a machine. Seeing him find brings a sense of relief to you, but it's not enough to erase the feeling.

☁ "I don't like it." You frown, looking over your shoulder as you heard the rapid swish of air moving. There was nothing there.

☁ "I get what you mean. Leaving the elevator open?" Cosmo raises a brow ridge, pausing the extracting he was doing. "It's just not-" He turns to face you, only to pause, mouth gaping open as he grows impressively pale incredibly quick. He's staring behind you, watching as something moves. You go to look, but he's quick to stop you.

☁ "Something's wrong." He whispers, much quieter, struggling to draw his eyes away from whatever he was seeing. "I don't want you near...that."

☁ "Near what?" You try to turn around again and he grabs your chin this time. "Y/N, please." He pleads. "We just need to back away and-"

☁ There's a shrill shriek and this time he can't stop you as you whirl around to see Tisha with the same expression Cosmo had on his face. Behind you is a tall twisted, taller than any you've seen, other than Dandy. It's one red eye is glowing at you, locked on as it hands from the ceiling. Two of it's arms hang by it's head, lifeless and stained with ichor, though the large claws don't look any less deadly. A drop of ichor hangs out of its mouth before splatting on the ground, making your stare it, horrified. It moves like a bug, slowly as it's multiple limbs each click against the ceiling.

☁ None of you can move, you can only watch as it grows closer. There's a swish of fabric as it reorientates itself to stand upright, the two limbs that were previously lifeless lifting, as if to caress you. You don't let it, stepping back in time as Cosmo pulls you back into him.

☁ It's close enough you could see it's face though. Half of it's face is stretched unnaturally, tinged a soft blue, but darkens as it twists up in recognition of your act of denial. There's a large white star on the other half, which begins to whirr wildly, spinning and spinning and spinning.

☁ For a fleeting second, your traitorous brain turns to Astro and his twisted and the similarities between that and this...thing.

☁ The star on it's face suddenly shoots out and you tackle Cosmo to the ground as Tisha takes off to warn the others to get to elevator. There's a crash as the machine Cosmo was working on is shattered, ichor spilling out over both of you as glass rains all over the floor. Whatever is in front of you screeches and two arms reach for you.

☁ You're quick to grab Cosmo, hauling him up and taking him with you as you both take off towards the elevator. There's two sets of footsteps behind you, but with a quick glance, you see it's only the one twisted, but with four running limbs being used rather than the regular two. It's catching up fast, too fast, and for a second you swear it's going to grab you, but a hand around your waist makes you're entire system shudder before you and Cosmo are both being yanked into the elevator, which shuts much faster than usual.

☁ Everyone in the elevator is silent before Tisha is letting out a blood curdling scream, grabbing at the edges of her box. "What was THAT?!"

☁ "I don't know!" Goob cries out, big eyes already welling with tears as he pulls at his fur. Scraps is trying to help him best she can, but even she's pale and struggling to control her shaking.

☁ You couldn't outrun it. You couldn't outrun it. YOU COULD NOT OUTRUN IT. As a distractor, that's one of your only roles, and you couldn't do it. Scrambling, you shakily get to your knees, crawling to where Cosmo is slowly sitting up. His eyes are darting everywhere before landing on you, meeting you halfway and cradling you to his chest.

☁ You clutch onto his sweater with white knuckles, shaking so badly you fear tearing the fabric. The way he holds onto you is much the same however, so you don't think he minds too much.

☁ "Maybe...Maybe next time we..." You struggle to find words, throat closing as you fight more tears. Your tail gives a whip behind you before curling around Cosmo, lacing itself between the center of his curl for a better hold.

☁ "We don't." Glisten shudders, smoothing out his bow before rubbing the space between his brows. "We can't- I don't even think the mains would know how to handle that."

☁ "It kinda looked like Astro." Rodger mentions, fingers tracing a crack in his glass before retracting. "Do you think it's possible the Ichor is mutating?"

☁ "Mutating?" You shake your head. "That- That can't be. That's-" You pause before growing suddenly angry. "That's not fair!" You're suddenly seething at the aspect of it all. A new terrain to learn, new twisteds, new methods of containing them; a whole new set of injuries...Of scars. "I can't. I can't do it! I can't!" You cry out, turning to hide your tears in Cosmo's sweater as he numbly rubs your back.

☁ The elevator gives a cheerful ding, a direct contrast to everyone else's mood in the elevator. It opens to the vibrant and cheerful colors of the lobby and you hear the footsteps of the others rapidly approaching, but to you, you're just reminded of-

☁ "Cosmo! Y/N!" Your attention is quickly redirected to where Sprout and Astro are eagerly approaching, the former wrapping you both in a tight hug that the remaining partner is quick to join.

☁ It's a comforting presence and it makes your heart steady itself before fingers are picking at your fur. "Did something happen? You're both covered in ichor." Astro frets, immediately making that ill feeling return to your guts. You debate not telling them before immediately erasing the thought. They needed to know they had too. If anyone could at least begin to get a handle on how to survive...whatever that was.

☁ "There's something about floor 50."

[i-dared-myself]

Uncomfortable

Stray Kids x reader

Requested by anonymous: hello, ash! would it be good if i request something, pls? i was thinking of a 9th member au with skz, could you maybe write a compilation of scenarios in which the reader is made uncomfortable and how the guys help her through it? idk if you'll do this, i hope it's not too much!

You love your job, that much you were certain of. You love your fans, as well. You work so hard in every dance and every song.

So when you step out on stage your heart swells in pride to see the thousands of Stays. Knowing that your group went from nothing to this is incredible.

And they’re all here to see you.

Well- not just you. The other members are just as, if not more, important than you. 

But at any given moment, thousands of eyes could be on you.

You had done many concerts before this. You had preformed more times than you could count. It had never bothered you before, and yet here you were.

You stand there in your concert attire, makeup and hair done. You look good and you know it, but what if people online didn’t think so? What if you were being recorded right now because there was a hair out of place?

“Hey.” Felix ducks down, using his body to cover the two of you from the crowd. “What’s going on?”

You force a smile, gripping at your shirt. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Chan says something into a microphone, and the crowd roars. You make a move to join the others, but Felix’s hand wraps around your wrist gently. He tugs you back to him and looks you in the eyes.

“You look good,” he says simply. He smiles and his freckles scrunch up in the Felix-way that makes you want to grin as well. “We all know that.”

Your voice seems to catch in your throat as you try to respond. You cough. “But… What if I do something wrong?”

“You’re won’t, first of all,” he firmly says. “And secondly, we mess up all the time. Stay still loves us. It makes us human and that’s what they love about us.”

You nod slowly and take a deep breath. “Yeah. The best memes are made when we… Yeah.”

Felix releases you. “Ready?”

You trail after him to the group, smiling as brightly as you can. After a minute it turns into a genuine expression, and you know you love your job.

The concert goes by with very minimal mistakes. You have as much fun as you hope the fans do, and the guys all collapse into a pile next to you when you’re done.

“Gimme,” Hyunjin rasps to Jeongin. The younger man gets the message and hands him his water bottle.

“Good job, everyone,” Chan praises. He stretches out his joints and groans. 

“Getting too old for this?” Seungmin arches an eyebrow teasingly.

Chan scowls and levels a finger at him. “Watch your mouth.”

You’re covered in sweat and feel sticky. You check the time and notice it’s very late. “I want to go shower at the dorms. Are we leaving soon?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Chan does a head count for some reason before guiding the group to the van. You clamber inside and pull your phone out, wanting to see what everyone thought of the concert.

“You did great,” Minho mutters quietly. His voice is low enough that only you can hear it. 

His words make your stomach tumble. You don’t get told often that you did good. Everything always what you could’ve done better. What someone else could have done better.

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

You really aren’t in the mood for recording, but you sit patiently as your makeup is applied and your hair is manipulated. You’re given a set of clothes and once you put it on, you exit the changing room and rejoin the others.

“Uh,” Changbin begins, averting his eyes, “that’s an interesting outfit.”

You’re confused, but look down at yourself for the first time after rushing through getting dressed. It’s definitely the most revealing thing you’ve worn for recordings, and you’re not sure if you feel comfortable with that. 

You’re not one to judge those for what you wear, but this is different. This is your job. This is where you’re supposed to be professional, and you have to wear… this.

It has what can only be described as a boob window. You tug it up uncomfortably, before down again when some of your stomach is shown.

The miniskirt is just as bad, to a level where you want to hide. You’re used to having to wear clothing similar to this, but never this bad.

Changbin adjusts his T-shirt. “Uh… Are you good with that?”

You nod.

The stylists know what they’re doing, right?

It would be rude to question them, right?

You walk to Hyunjin’s side and stand in place next to him. The set of instructions for the shoot are given, and all you can focus on is your outfit.

“That’s interesting,” Hyunjin says, unable to hide his disdain. His upper lip curls before he smoothes out his expression. “That’s… Wow.”

“I know.” You swallow and fiddle with the fabric again. “Is it that bad?”

Hyunjin nods. “Yes. Very.”

You curl into yourself, shoulders slumping. “Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“The colour compliments your eyes,” he mutters once he catches the look on your face. Hyunjin hooks an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him. “I think you look good.”

“But she’s not comfortable,” Seungmin bluntly says. He gives Hyunjin a dirty look. “Obviously.”

“No! I’m fine!” You wave your hands in a desperate attempt to gather their attention before they went rampaging to the stylists. “They worked hard!”

“Yeah, but do you want people to see you in that?” Seungmin questions. When you falter over a response, he sighs. “Boundaries are important, even at work.”

Hyunjin hums. “He’s right. And that shirt is ugly anyways.”

Jisung approaches, scowling slightly. “Aren’t we starting soon? Where are the others?”

“In a little bit. They’re still finishing preparations.” Jeongin leans down to touch his toes. 

“Hey.” Seungmin pokes Jisung. “Give her your shirt.”

Jisung flinches back, clutching at his torso. “What? Why?”

“She doesn’t like hers.” Hyunjin pinches the material of Jisung’s clothing. “Too much skin.”

“I’m not wearing anything under this shirt.” Jisung winces and rolls out his shoulders. “Do we…”

Jeongin scoffs. “Wow. You’re not going to give her your shirt? You just want to stare at boobs, don’t you? You’re so misogynistic.”

“That’s not what that means.” You press a hand to your forehead. “Jeongin-“

“Fine then!” Jisung huffs. He strips his shirt off and flings it at you, putting his hands on his hips defiantly. “Happy? I love women!”

The staff all stare at him in confusion, while a couple of them shield their eyes with their hands.

“Jisung-“ You hold out his clothes, but Seungmin blocks you.

“Put it on!” Seungmin orders.

“But what about me?” Jisung pouts. “I can’t just be half-naked for the recording.”

“I mean, you could…” Hyunjin trails off. “Stay would love it.”

You step into a changing room, returning with Jisung’s shirt on. You hand him yours, which he struggles to put on. He keeps sticking his arms through the boob window, and Jeongin has to help him dress.

“It’s horrifying,” Hyunjin announces once Jisung is finished. 

“I think you look good,” Felix vaguely says as he walks past. He’s staring at his phone.

“Which one of us?” Jisung puffs out his chest in what’s clearly an attempt to make you smile.

It works.

Felix glances up, eyes widening. “Are you allowed to wear that?”

“They put her in it, so it’s their fault.” Hyunjin shrugs and runs his tongue over his front teeth. “What about the miniskirt?”

“I’m not wearing that!” Jisung hisses. “This is bad enough!”

“Felix!” Hyunjin sings, chasing after the other man. Felix looks back over his shoulder before sprinting away.

So when Chan returns to the group, Changbin following closely behind, he taps his chin.

“The stylists are getting very… unique,” he carefully says. Chan’s eyes flick over Jisung in your shirt, and Felix, who had been wrestled into the miniskirt. 

You frown, wearing Felix’s baggy pants. “Sorry. I can- I can put it back on if you want.”

Chan waves a hand, expression softening. “It’s fine. The camera we needed for the water scene broke anyway. We’re going home.”

Felix grumbles to Changbin about the stupid skirt as they trudge off to the van. Chan catches your arm before you can leave with them.

“And I’ll tell the staff that you aren’t okay with those clothes for filming,” he assures you softly. “Tell us if you’re ever uncomfortable with something, okay?”

“I will,” you promise him.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long days were normal. Many long days with a lack of sleep were not. Chan usually tried to give everyone enough rest and time to themselves, but the last couple of days had been stressful.

So you find yourself with nine hours of sleep in the last three days. You have no idea how you’re even functioning, let alone cheery enough for a fan meet.

You’re seated across from a girl with curly brown hair. Her gaze keeps darting from your face, down to her lap nervously.

As you uncap your pen, you smile as warmly as you can. Considering the circumstances, that is. The lack of sleep and pure exhaustion were really getting to you.

“I- I saw the clips of your latest concert,” she nervously says. “I- You’re very good.”

“Thank you.” You scribble your signature out on what she wanted before sliding it across the table. “Anything else to sign?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I- You and Felix are close.”

Your tired brain couldn’t tell where she was going with this. So you hum. “Yeah. We are.”

She seems giddy at that. “R-Really?”

“Yeah. We all are.” You look over to your right, where Changbin appears in deep discussion with a fan about… bald eagles?

“But like… Close i-in which way?” She crosses one leg over the other.

You still can’t understand what she’s saying. It’s not wise of an idol to interact with someone and have no clue what’s happening, but here you are.

“Uh, a lot,” is all you respond with. “Do you have a favourite song, or album?”

“But Felix g-grabbed your arm the other day.” Her head ducks down again as her cheeks flush. “I- I saw videos of it.”

“Oh!” Your eyebrows shoot up with the realization. “Um- Have you ever been to one of our concerts before?”

“You l-look happy together.” She ignores your question.

“So… Chk Chk Boom?” you weakly say. “It’s pretty good, right?”

She doesn’t seem to get the hint. “He smiles at y-you often.”

“Did I hear someone talking about me?” Felix teases as he bends down. He props his elbows down on the table, some of his hair falling into his face. 

“What are you doing over here?” you ask in bewilderment. Isn’t he supposed to be doing his own signings?

“I figured you could use the company.” 

Which is code for: You needed help so I’m here.

You relax into your chair, leaning back. “I appreciate it.”

“So what were we chatting about?” Felix asks, more alert than you for some reason. You blame it on the energy drinks he chugged with Jeongin.

The rest of the meeting goes by smoothly. When everyone loads into the van, Changbin makes room for you in the seat next to him.

“You okay?” he gently inquires. 

You nod and let your eyes flutter shut. “Just miss sleeping.”

Changbin chuckles lowly. “Yeah, so do I.”

“Don’t worry, everyone will get their naps,” Chan calls from the front. “Our schedule is free for the next week.”

Jisung whoops, and Hyunjin covers his ears and whines from beside him. 

“That means actually sleeping,” Chan sternly says. “Jisung, I’m talking to you. Don’t binge an entire show in a night.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “We all know he’s going to do it anyway.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Minho ominously mutters.

Everyone side-eyes him.

“What are you going to do?” you warily question him. 

Minho’s eyes glint. “That’s for me to know and for him to find out.”

Jisung clears his throat. “I think I’m going to bed early tonight. Anyone else doing the same?”

You shake your head and sigh. “No, I have a live to do.”

The others all murmur their excuses, while Minho narrows his eyes at you. You shift nervously under his gaze.

When you get off to your room, you make sure to brush out your hair. When prop your phone up and sit on your bed, tucking your legs beneath you.

You greet the fans as they come pouring in, making sure to touch on the topic on the fan meeting. You talk for a little bit about how grateful you are for everyone coming, before moving on to just chatting.

It’s always odd doing a live by yourself. There’s no engaging with someone else, and you have to either read off comments, or come up with conversation.

You’re too tired for the latter, so you go with the former.

“Aw, my hair looks nice?” You beam at your phone, reaching up to your head. “Thank you very much.”

You read over a couple more rolls of comments on the screen before settling on another one to respond to. “No, I won’t give you spoilers. Nice try, though.”

You scrunch your nose up and adjust how you’re sitting. Everyone is going on about a new meme of Jeongin falling out of his chair. Some are asking you to recreate it, while others are asking if he’s okay.

“Yes, he’s fine,” you answer breezily. “It takes more than that to hurt him. He’s tougher than he looks.”

And time goes on. Your eyes are getting heavier and heavier, but you don’t want to turn it off. The more content you give them now, the less they’ll talk about you and Felix.

If any shipping gets too popular, you have to do damage control and-

“Hello, Stay!” Minho waves with both hands as he pops into frame. He blinks a couple times as the comments scream his name before his lips curl into a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You scoot over in case he wants to sit with you.

Minho remains standing. “It’s getting late. Do you know what time it is?”

There’s a string of people talking about air fryers, now. Others are warning you to run.

You straighten. “No, sorry. Is it really that late?”

“It’s past midnight,” he scolds gently. “It’s bed time. I already have Jisung sleeping, and it’s your turn.”

“But…” You don’t know how to voice your concerns. It feels as if speaking your worries aloud will make them true.

Minho says the goodbyes to your phone before shutting the live off. He scoops your phone up and slips it into your pocket before lifting you over his shoulder.

“Minho!” you shriek as he marches out the door. “What are you doing?”

“Rumours come with the job,” he says. He bounces you once, cutting off your protests. “The amount of times I’m shipped with Jisung is immense, but we’re fine. These things happen.”

“Yeah, there’s lots of that stuff.” You go limp and let him dump you in the bathroom. As soon as you’re on your feet, he hands you your toothbrush.

“See?” Minho raises an eyebrow. “You’ll be fine. And even if it does get out of hand, I’m sure Hyunjin would be glad to do something to get the attention off you.”

“You’re right,” you say around the toothbrush in your mouth. Minho waits patiently for you to spit into the sink before you’re back in his grasp.

“I don’t see why you made such a big deal about this,” you grumble as you change into pyjamas. His back is to you as you do so. “Why was Jisung so scared?”

He smirks at you, facing you again. “Wanna find out?”

You stare at him momentarily before sliding beneath your sheets. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Minho pulls the blankets up to your chin. He walks to the door, holding up your phone. “You’ll get this back in the morning after a chat with Chan about positive thinking.”

You groan and throw your head against the pillows. “You really are cruel!”

Minho laughs before flicking your lights off. He shuts the door softly.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght

[decojellyfish]

First. I love your work! Just the whole writing and stuff is so AAAAAAAA wonderful.

Second. Idk if its a gonna be a bother or something but i reread the Bonbon fanfic and thought if you could do a part 2. With the idea of because ghost is already a rescue price then brings another rescue home like gaz or soap.

I HOPE IM NOT BOTHERING YOU IM SORRYYYY

You're not a bother at all! In fact, I should be apologizing to you for taking so long with this! I hope it was worth the wait, enjoy! This is the official part 2 of Bonbon! (Go give it a read if you're interested :))

------

Boom! Boom!

Hybrid AU! TF141 (Retired) Guard Dog! Ghost x (Retired) Fight Dog! Soap x Kitten! Reader x Owner! Price Reader is only addressed as 'you' !!No Romance Towards Reader For Obvious Purposes!!

SFW ~ Fluff

Warnings: Occasional swearing? There’s barely any

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Cute Circus - Twintail Tsundere" 0:09 ━●────────── 2:47 ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

───♡───────────── Beginning It had been a year since you’d been adopted by Price and a few things have changed.

First of all, you had forgotten what it felt like to be starving or what you smelled like when they’d first found you. Bubble baths were a routine part of your week, and you loved playing with your toys and scratching posts. Sometimes, when you’d be mad, you would take it out on your scratching post, or if you were feeling rebellious, you would commit the cardinal sin of doing it on the couch. But you also loved snuggling. Whether it was Price or Ghost, you loved curling up on their lap under a blanket with one of your toys. Sometimes it would be the only thing that would get you to fall asleep.

Price enjoyed the extra company and finally had someone to accompany Ghost while he was gone. Price had never really taken on a father role in his life until you came into the picture. At points, he felt like the best father figure anyone could ask for; other times, he wondered if he knew anything at all about parenting. Sometimes, he felt like he was being too mean to you, snuggling with you after a small quarrel as an act of both apologizing and forgiving.

Ghost, on the other hand, felt as if you weren’t disciplined enough. He felt like you were a little brat, getting into trouble all the time with the blame usually falling on Ghost’s shoulders. You were a little angel in Price’s eyes, only to turn around and kick Ghost out of his usual spots around the house, running it like you owned the place. But only he was allowed to be your bully. Any time you, him, and Price were out and another hybrid tried to get smart with you, a kitten, Price would have to physically hold Ghost back as he barked up a storm about how he was gonna turn them into fish food by drowning them.

But all in all, things were nice. 

Then came along the mutt from the forest.

You had been playing in the yard for about an hour, Ghost was supervising you to make sure you didn’t run off into the woods. He was bored, but still kept his ears perked for any sign of danger… which he quickly caught a whiff of. He stood up from his seated position in the grass and made his way over to where the mouth of the forest began.

There was a small forest that resided in the backyard of Price’s neighborhood. You were only ever allowed to go in there under the supervision of both Ghost and Price. So when you saw Ghost slowly venturing out into the woods, you knew something was up. Your little ears perked up, your fluffy tail swishing with childlike curiosity.

So naturally, as the little kitten you were, you did the sensible thing.

You silently followed behind Ghost, not alerting him of your presence. He was too focused on finding the danger and keeping it from coming any closer to his family.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ghost was following a certain scent, it seemed to belong to a burly one, built similarly to him. They smelled sweaty, musky, and… scared? No, angry. No, scared? A mix of both? It was a marbled mess of both emotions.

His ears twitched in one direction, sensing a rapidly approaching figure. He quickly turned his body to face the figure head-on, ready to attack. His guard dog instincts kicked in with a small snarl as he eyed the violent dog approaching. That’s when a little thing caught his attention in the corner of his eye.

It was you!

What the hell were you doing here?! How did you follow him so silently?? Probably because you were a cat, but that’s beside the point. He looked at your tiny form with wide eyes, “What are you doing here?! Get back to the house! Now-!” He was cut off when he suddenly got tackled.

The two bulky figures collided, rolling and flying across the rough ground, causing you to yelp in alarm.

Ghost let out a growl, grabbing the figure by their shoulders and forcing them away, ready to bark their arse off before something made him stop. His eyes were wide and his mouth awkwardly hanging open. The figure, another dog-hybrid, had also stopped and was now catching his breath as he stared down at Ghost with a similar expression.

It was silent for a few moments, just the two canines panting for air with their bewildered expressions. The mysterious pup was first to break the silence.

“Ghost?”

“Soap?” Ghost replied, just as astonished as Soap was.

“Ghost!” Soap rejoiced, pulling his brother from another mother close into a hug. “Oi, where’ve ya been?? How’s retirement goin’???” He had a giant smile on his face, his tail wagging so much that it was causing his hips to move side to side as well slightly. 

“Eh, it’s been good. Eventful. Why the hell are you all roughed up? They kick you out or somethin’?” “Uhh, it’s complicated.” Soap chuckled. “Let’s jus’ say, I got roped into underground fightin’ and now I’m also retired.” He laughed a little more while Ghost looked at him slightly confusedly.

“Oh, hey! No mask!” Soap pointed out, now holding Ghost’s head and examining his face. “Aye, I knew you were a blondie!” “Yes, Soap, being retired means there’s no need to hide my identity.” Ghost sighed as he was forcefully examined by his old friend.

Soap smiled from dog-ear to dog-ear as he finally got to see the face of his good friend, looking at each scar, wrinkle, and bump his face had to offer. “You’re quite the looker, Ghost.” He smirked before he was abruptly attacked by a little thing.

You meowed and hissed as you latched onto the weird man who decided to attack the man who was like a big brother in your eyes. Your claws were tiny, but you spent a fair amount of time with your scratching posts so you knew how to hook them in. The man yowled and reached back, quickly plucking you off of him as his chipped ears pinned to the back of his head.

You kept hissing and scratching the air in his direction while he and Ghost looked at each other, Soap was obviously more confused while Ghost was trying to hold back a chuckle. “Who the hell is this??” “Uh… they’re with me, Soap.”

Soap looked at his best friend with eyes as wide and big as saucers, “...you had a kid?!” He looked at you again before looking back down, “...with a cat?!”

Ghost just had to stifle his chuckles, his head slightly shaking back and forth. He had to contain his laughter before finally telling Soap the whole story about you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price had finally returned home after a long, tiring shift at work. With a soft thud, he set his bag down near the front door and took his coat off.

“I’m home!” He called out, his gravelly voice laced with a hint of exhaustion. His eyes perked up at the muffled sound of you playing outside, with Ghost he assumed. Your happy giggles and squeals, an occasional shriek of surprise followed by more laughter. It made him smile knowing you were getting proper time outside despite the temperatures gradually decreasing as autumn approached.

Walking to the back door, Price opened it expecting to see two hybrids playing in the backyard but was surprised when he saw three, even after trying to recount them to make sure he wasn’t losing his mind. For a moment Price thought it was a feral hybrid who had planned on attacking his family, but realized you weren’t in any danger while Ghost was still supervising.

You were playing with the feral hybrid, and he was playing with you. He would chase you, you would chase him, ride on his back while he ran around, and laugh as he put on a show for you as he chased his tail in rapid, small circles. Still, Price was your father (in a sense) so he had to step in.

“Ghost,” he shouted at the blonde pup, “What’s all this?” Ghost looked over at the old man, offering a reassuring smirk. “Just an old work buddy, or friend. Can we keep ‘im?” He chided, his tail slightly wagging. Price only sighed, already knowing there was only one correct answer.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

So now, this is your current life. Ghost watching as you and Soap play around in the living room, lazily attempting to play with you on the couch, and Price shouting from the kitchen, as he’s making dinner, to be careful and not knock anything over.

Soap would always get this guilty look on his face when he was told this, knowing he was the culprit behind the murder of a few innocent standing vases and decor.

You loved playing with him, especially when he would play this game where he pretended you were a bomb that he had to drop (safely onto the couch, of course). He would do a dramatic countdown, “3…2…1!” and then plop you right onto the couch cushion then the two of you would chant, “Boom! Boom!”

Then, he would tickle you relentlessly until Ghost barked at him to stop because he didn’t like your little giggle-shriek sounds. Soap would stop, then make Ghost his next target by scratching behind his scarred ears. This caused Ghost to kick one of his legs uncontrollably, making you giggle.

There were times when you didn’t like Soap as much. Sometimes, he would take a bit of food from your plate without you noticing, making you through a small hissyfit when he finally took a noticeable amount. Other times, he would bark at you to stop scratching at the armrests of the couch before gesturing to all the other scratching posts you had.

In return, you would give him… the silent treatment.

Which lasted about 5 or 10 minutes until you asked him to play with you, which he happily agreed to with a small chuckle.

But the most enjoyable part of your days now was in the evenings after dinner. When you’d be curled up between Price and Ghost, your head in Price’s lap as he kept a hand scratching your head, and Ghost keeping a hand on your back or belly (depending on which position you were resting in) as he felt the subtle rise and fall of your lungs as you drifted off. 

Soap usually sat on the floor, his head close to yours, so your relaxed purrs went directly into his ear. This made his tail wag with a repetitive soft thumping. All of you were probably settled down for a movie of some sort or just stayed in the living room for a small chat. Not like you were paying any attention though, you were just there to fall asleep.

However, other times, Price would read you a bedtime story instead. With Ghost and Soap sitting by you for extra security as you fell asleep that way, still loudly purring and making biscuits out of your blankie.

They would all wait for your purrs to fade out and biscuits to slow to an eventual stop, signaling that you had fallen asleep, and now was the tricky part of tiptoeing away from your little cat bed without waking you up.

Once they were successful, they would close the door, leaving it open with a small crack to allow a little light to pour in. They all snuck one last peek at you before leaving with a content sigh or grunt.

They loved how you took them on all sorts of adventures with occasional mischief.

They loved their lives

And they loved you. ───♡───────────── End

I hope you enjoyed it, everypony!! Thank you all so much for your patience. Feel free to leave a request! (I make no promises they'll be finished quickly though ;0; I still need to go to college and make art lol) ------ Taglist: @venavanup @draculauraspage @tf141gloryhole @obnoxiousbag @chanel-princess-world @ssc7514

If you would like to be added to the taglist so you can read my latest fics, let me know! Thank you :)

[thatshadowcomic]

Lore/HC: Underlined text links to original post👇

[For Character answered QnA and general "asks" click here]

You're welcome to expand on my ideas in your own way, but please credit me so they don't mix up with my own HCs/design choices.

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Sonic & Shadow:

-Mobians hedgehogs "Anoit" their partners

-Sonadow children ideas

-related to the above, "WOULD sonic and shadow have kids?"

-Fave HCs/ what's it like living with rouge/ where's sonic live?

-Does shadow like/play any instruments?

-who likes to cuddle more?

-Sonic is an accidental flirt.

-Shadow's stripes will become more like the Black Arms emblem over time. His paws are already very similar... do you think his head stripes will change as he ages?

-Sonic grew up alongside Amy and other orphans/broken families. He cares for her a lot but can only see her as a sister-- the same way he sees Tails as his brother--so the idea of a relationship with her disgusts him. Maybe he sees Sonia when he looks at her?

-Before Sonic, Shadow and Rouge fell into a relationship. Shadow assumed they shared a deeper past, given how much Rouge knows and how comfortable she is around him. But really, Shadow didnt know what he wanted, assuming it just was this way. Rouge wasn't sure either, just trying to help Shadow in some way. That said, they learned a lot about themselves and eachother as they opened up-- but in the end deciding to return to just friends...Although it would take some time to feel normal again.

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Shadow & Maria:

-Shadow's has dissociative fugue

-baby shadow (shadow and maria)

-Why Shadow knows how to swim

-Maria would have been a menace

-Maria told Shadow to comb his white fur up, so he looks more presentable, teasing, "You have a little built in tuxedo! See? Such a gentle-hog." :)

-I think Shadow liked sleeping in maria's bed. It was probably of great comfort to Maria during her sicker days... He was always being watched, so when they gave him his own bed/room, it must have felt isolating and alone. Do you think he had to wear pajamas so he wouldn't leave any fur in her bed?

-Some scientists/maria used to pet shadow and fluff up his cheeks, to Robotnik's displeasure. Shadow only recently learned that's something you do to your pet... he kind of misses it though.

-This is canon: Abraham Towers (commander) and Shadow grew up alongside each other, though their time was short. Ab was terrified of Shadow, because he saw Doom helping Gerald. He would warn the other's that shadow was some kind of demon, but Maria only became more protective of Shadow. He wasn't just an experiment to her, he was a person. As she became sicker, Ab blamed Shadow. But 50 years later, he finally understands and is trying to build some kind of bridge with Shadow, even allowing Shadow to visit his baby granddaughter. Just like Shadow, he let his anger and pain drive his choices.

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AU ideas: Feel free to expand on these in your own way, just credit me for the initial idea, so it doesn't get mixed up as canon in my own HC lore lol.

-AU where Shadow is created on mobius

-Scene from the above AU where shadow is created on mobius

-Return to mobius/search for sonic's mom AU (idea)

-Return of Doom (AU where Shadow is copied and Doom controls shadow's old body)

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Other characters:

-Metal sonic in my HC

-more metal sonic HC

-Manic is Scourge, who'd been sent into a zone for safety during the first bombing, only be have been lost to the "other" Mobius. He got a little crazy after that... No one knows what happened to Sonic's sister. It's assumed she died in the first Eggman attack. (or you could go with trans sonic hc? Would be an interesting/wholsome moment between Sonic & Shadow when he reveals it.)

-Omega is basically metal shadow...

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