#when i say he was “too much” i mean he was VERY into her and she didn't feel the same

[aewon]

cute, no?

sunghoon x fem reader genre: smut MDNI!! wc: 4157 warnings: kissing, rough sex, mouth fucking, fingering, cunnilingus, pussy slapping, mean sunghoon, inexperienced (but not virgin) reader, mention of chaewon, yunjin, hanni and karina. both sunghoon and reader are kinda weird. name calling (reader calls sunghoon a whore), multiple orgasms, nude sending. if there’s anything i missed lmk.

note: this is a repost from my other account that is now deleted @/wonkizz, also this isn’t proofread so ignore any fuck ups lol

You knew your roommate was somewhat of a whore. It never bothered you, if anything, you were jealous.

He just….snapped his fingers and girls fell at his feet.

You wished you could bag guys that easily.

Albeit you and Sunghoon rarely acknowledged each other. How did you become roommates in the first place, you may be wondering? It’s very simple. You were living with your sister, she moved out to live with her boyfriend, you needed a new roommate, Sunghoon answered your facebook ad. Simple as that.

The only rules you had were keeping the space clean and not being too loud at night.

Sunghoon definitely kept up with the first one, never having a hair out of place.

The second, well… not so much. But, it didn’t bother you. You had really good noise canceling headphones for a reason.

Though at night, you could still hear the sounds of the multitude of girls he would bring home day in and day out.

Their loud moans, whimpers, mewls, borderline screams!

You don’t know if the sex is really good, or if they’re just really sensitive.

It must be Sunghoon though, right?

But is he really that good?

Sometimes you find yourself wishing you were in those girls' places…but you know he’d never go for someone like you.

Something you haven’t mentioned, Sunghoon is like, drop dead gorgeous. You’re surprised he hasn’t been casted as a model or an idol or something.

But he’s just a struggling student like you. Clearly not struggling in the sex department though.

You’re not a virgin, but you’ve only had sex three times in your 22 years of life.

All three times were not that satisfying and personally you don’t blame yourself.

You just haven’t found that person who can really do it for you, and your own hand and toy have started to become…tired.

It’s been quite some time since you’ve felt the touch of another person. You’ve started craving, like you’re touch-starved.

Back to the topic of Sunghoon, he’s mesmerizing and you are a stereotypical nerd.

You’re not ugly, but your everyday appearance is not exactly eye-catching like what Sunghoon typically brings home.

You find yourself thinking about him more often than not. What he’s into sexually. How far he’s willing to go.

One thing about you, you’re very, very sensitive.

You’ve made yourself come 5 times in a span of 20 minutes.

Another thing about you, you’re somewhat of a freak…or maybe a major freak?

Safe to say you think about sex way more than you should, and you are not as vanilla as your friends think you are.

God, if you could just get one crack at Sunghoon, you’d be happy.

But alas, that’s just a dream.

It’s midnight on a Friday, you’ve just gotten out of the shower after doing your whole night routine.

You slip on some comfy pjs (aka an oversized tee and shorts) and make your way to the couch with a late night snack (black raspberry dark chocolate chunk ice cream) ready to indulge in the food network.

Sunghoon isn’t home, you figure he’s out at a party or with friends.

You’re digging into your pint of ice cream when the front door opens.

Sunghoon steps inside and you hear a giggle behind him.

Someone, a woman, steps in behind him.

Their lips are about to meet when her eyes find yours.

“Oh!” She exclaims, pulling away. “This must be your roommate! You didn’t tell me she was so…cute!”

This woman is gorgeous. Sleek, black hair, beautiful body that’s wrapped in a dress that fits her perfectly and her face is something out of a magazine.

She must be looking at you, with your oversized, not to mention stained, tee and shorts, glasses and ice cream in hand like you’re a joke. An utter, complete, joke.

Sunghoon barely spares a glance at you, clearing his throat and gesturing between you and this woman, “Karina, Y/N, Y/N, Karina,” he introduces you to her.

All you can do is wave before realizing the situation you’re in.

Sunghoon has once again brought a woman home and you’re clearly in the way.

You spring up from the couch, “I didn’t mean to be in the way, I'll just go to my room!”

Before either can say anything, you turn off the tv and nearly sprint to your room, ice cream still in hand.

You shut the door behind you, listening to footsteps.

You hear them making their way to Sunghoon’s room, right across from yours.

“She’s cute, no?” You hear Karina ask.

“I guess, not really my type though,” Sunghoon responds.

Ouch. You already knew it, but hearing it said aloud stings more than you thought it would.

The sex Sunghoon and Karina have that night is so loud, even your headphones can block it.

Her moans and squeals of his name infiltrate your mind into the morning, as you barely got any sleep.

You assume Karina is still in the apartment by time you get up for your early morning class.

You’re in the kitchen, preparing a cup of tea when Sunghoon comes in, rubbing his eyes.

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “I hope we didn’t disturb you too much.”

This is the first time he’s ever bothered to say this to you, not to mention the first time he’s ever acknowledged you in the morning.

You shake your head, giving him a faint smile as you push up your glasses, “Not at all.”

Once you leave the apartment, the walk to campus isn’t far.

Your best friend, Chaewon, is already waiting for you in front of your first class.

By the time you’re free, you meet up with your other friends, Yunjin and Hanni.

“What’s up with you?” Hanni asks, “You seem down.”

You sigh, “Sunghoon brought a really pretty girl home last night.”

They all raise their brows at you, “Okay,” Yunjin says, “that’s never bothered you before? Why now?”

“Because,” you start, “she called me cute.”

“She called you…cute?” Chaewon questions. “Why is that bad?”

“It’s not, but after I went back into my room, I heard them and she said to Sunghoon ‘She’s cute, no?’ and Sunghoon said ‘I guess, but she’s not really my type’. I already knew I wasn’t but hearing it said out loud stung a lot.”

Hanni rubs your shoulder.

“Well who gives a fuck what Sunghoon thinks!” Yunjin says. “You know you’re beautiful, and he’s just a man at the end of the day!”

“I know!” You groan, burying your head in your arms, “I know I shouldn’t care about his opinion or whether I’m his type or not but it’s like, when someone so attractive doesn’t see you that way it’s like, damn!”

You continue, “It’s not like I’m even into him romantically or anything like that. If anything, I’m just into him sexually, cause if you guys heard what I did you probably would be too!”

“So it’s not about romantic feelings, just sexual feelings?” Hanni asks.

You nod, “More like sexual frustration. I haven’t had sex in so long and it’s kinda killing me at this point.”

“So what if you make him acknowledge you sexually?” Chaewon implies.

“How do I do that? Like he said, I’m not even his type.”

“Well number one, acknowledge that this is just for sex. You’re not changing anything about yourself for him because at the end of the day he’s just a man and we don’t change ourselves for men, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay, then, do something to get his attention. Something sexual. Something that’ll catch his eye without changing how you are or who you are.”

You all pause for a moment, thinking of possible ideas.

Yunjin, after 5 minutes, lights up, “I’ve got it!”

After a long, somewhat agitating day of classes, you find yourself back at home.

You took another long, hot shower, did your night routine and dressed yourself in the cutest pj set you have.

What exactly was Yunjin’s plan? Take some pictures and “accidentally” send them to Sunghoon.

Now, have you ever taken nudes before? No. But you did a little research and you figure it can’t be that hard.

With your top pulled up and your tits fully exposed, you sit on your bed, front camera facing your tits.

The lighting is perfect, dim, but not too dark.

As you snap the pic, flash off, you look at it and…damn. If that’s not a good pic, you don’t know what is!

You spend the next 10 minutes debating if you should really do this. What if you just embarrass yourself completely and Sunghoon doesn’t buy into it at all?

Then you’ll never live it down.

But, you won’t know if you don’t try.

You pull up his contact, saved simply as ‘Sunghoon’

and attach the photo with the invisible ink effect and type ‘what do you think?’ before hitting send.

You nearly throw your phone across the room, but instead just slam it face down as your heart starts to beat more rapidly.

You know Sunghoon isn’t home right now, nor do you even know if he’ll be coming home tonight.

The only thing you can do is hope and pray for the best.

You exit out of the messages, not wanting him to know you’re waiting for a response and scroll through your phone trying not to panic.

After an agonizing few minutes, your phone dings.

You prepare yourself for embarrassment.

Sunghoon responded.

You’re expecting shock. An exclamation of sorts. Heck, even a question mark or two.

Instead, all you see is, ‘They’re nice.’

They’re nice.

Did he just fucking say, they’re nice?

Is that good?

You text the group chat a screenshot asking the same question.

The girls respond immediately, telling you to go forth with the plan, that that’s a good sign.

You take a deep breath. Don’t overdo it.

You: omg

You: sunghoon i’m so sorry

You: i didn’t mean to send that to you

He reads it and responds immediately.

Sunghoon: then who did you mean to send it to?

You: a friend

Sunghoon: what friend?

You: don’t worry about it! just please accept my apology :( i’m so sorry again

The text bubble indicates he’s typing, then it disappears and reappears.

Sunghoon: I’m coming home.

Sunghoon: Don’t move.

That last text makes your pussy throb in your pajama shorts.

You send the screenshot to the group chat which erupts immediately.

Chaewon: oh shitttt hehehe

Hanni: i fear you’re getting fucked into the mattress tonight

Yunjin: you mean you don’t fear lmao good luck girl

You occupy yourself for the time being, knowing Sunghoon will be home shortly.

As soon as you hear that front door open, you act nonchalantly, scrolling through your phone as if you’re not ecstatic.

Sunghoon doesn’t even bother knocking, opening your door and letting himself into your room.

His hair is slightly disheveled, like he’d been running his hand through it, and his face is stoic.

You look up at him innocently.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, knowing damn well you’re playing with fire.

Sunghoon scoffs, not saying a word as he walks to the side of your bed, grabbing your phone and throwing it to the side, not even watching where it lands.

You however do watch where it lands on the floor a few feet away and are about to protest when Sunghoon grabs you by the jaw.

“Do you like playing games you know you’re not gonna win?” He asks, voice low and condescending.

Fuck, if it doesn’t make your pussy more wet than it already is.

His grip on your jaw tightens, making you whimper. But you like the pain, and he knows that immediately.

“Take your clothes off,” he commands, finally letting go of your jaw.

You move to do as he says, albeit slowly.

Starting with your top, you lift it over your head, your tits falling out into view.

His eyes latch onto them immediately, and you take note of how he licks his lower lip.

“Shorts too,” he says.

You lay back against your pillows, lifting your hips to drag your shorts down your legs, sitting back up to then throw them in the same direction as your shirt.

Sunghoon smirks in amusement, “Of course you’re not wearing underwear. You’re a little slut aren’t you?”

Your own tongue pokes out to wet your lips and you watch as his eyes follow it.

Sunghoon begins to undress himself, starting with his shirt.

His pale skin is beautiful and the expanse of his toned torso almost makes you drool.

Your eyes find his arms, taking in his biceps and how much you want them around your neck.

“Hey, eyes here,” he says, snapping you back to his own face, making you keep your focus on him.

He unbuckles his belt, taking his time undoing it, pulling it out of the loop, letting it drop to the floor.

You know for a fact that your pussy is leaking onto your bed right now, and you don’t give a damn.

Sunghoon lets his pants fall, stepping out of them.

Now, he’s just left in his boxers.

“Come here, on your knees,” he gestures to you with his finger to the floor.

You obey immediately, crawling off the bed to the floor.

The carpet of your room scratches against your knees but you don’t care.

“Take them off.”

Your hands reach for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down gently.

His hard cock springs out, slapping against his stomach before stilling in front of you.

Sunghoon’s left hand finds the back of your head, grasping your hair tightly.

“Open your mouth, stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, eager as he chuckles in amusement, “You must love cock don’t you?” He asks, using his right hand to slap the tip of his cock against your tongue, then spreading his pre-cum all over it as you hum in appreciation.

He quietly begins to push his cock into your mouth, before pulling back out.

You do your best to breathe through your nose, as saliva piles in your mouth and drips down the sides.

Suddenly he shoves himself into your mouth, until he hits the back of your throat, making you gag erratically.

Saliva spills out of your mouth rapidly, drilling onto the floor.

Your hands find his thighs, palms open, squeezing softly.

“I told you,” Sunghoon says, “don’t play games you’re not gonna win.”

With that, he begins to roughly thrust in and out of your mouth, getting off on how much you’re gagging.

Tears begin to pool in your eyes as spit and pre-cum mix together to coat his cock and spill everywhere.

He uses your hair as leverage, not letting up for even a second.

You keep your eyes on his as he uses you for his pleasure, even as your tears blur your vision.

“Fucking filthy,” he sneers, “I’m gonna cum in this filthy fucking mouth and you’re gonna swallow it, understood?”

You do your best to nod with his cock still in your mouth.

Suddenly he pulls out, and you gasp for air.

Sunghoon continues to pump himself, still holding onto your hair, “Stick your tongue out,” he says.

You do so and soon he’s spilling his load all over your tongue and into your mouth.

Just as he’s finished, he leans down, dropping a glob of spit on top of everything.

“Swallow.”

You do, eagerly, showing him your clean tongue once you’re done.

He pulls you up by your hair, leading you back to the bed.

Sunghoon shoves you down onto your back, pushing you so you’re up by the headboard, head on the pillows.

He’s on his knees in front of you, cock still hard.

He pushes you into a mating press, your thighs pushed against your chest, practically folded in half.

Without warning, he leans down, tongue meeting your wet, sopping pussy.

You gasp, jerking in place as you squeal from the immediate pleasure it gives you.

“Sunghoon!” You cry, eyes wide as his nonchalant ones look into yours.

“What?” He responds, as if it’s nothing.

“I’m..I’m sensitive.”

He smirks, “Then that means I get to make you come more than once.”

He goes back to your pussy, pinning you down to the bed as he eats you like a starved man.

Sunghoon groans at your taste, licking fat stripes up and down your pussy.

He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking it, flicking it with his tongue repeatedly, even having the balls to scrape it with his teeth lightly.

All this while your back arches up from the bed, hips held in place by Sunghoon’s hands.

“Oh my fucking god!” You shout into the open, knowing this would get you a one way ticket to hell.

Sunghoon then takes his tongue, fucking it into your hole.

You squeal loudly, hands gripping the bed sheets on either side of you.

More tears form in your eyes before falling like water from a faucet.

You’re full on crying from pleasure.

When you said you were sensitive, you meant it.

“Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum,” you whine,” one hand threading itself into his long locks.

He, who was occupying himself, makes his way back to your clit, licking circles around it, up and down, figure eights, anything to make you cum in his mouth.

You’re chanting to god, any god at this point.

With one final call of his name, you cum into his mouth, Sunghoon lapping it all up, swallowing it eagerly as you did to him.

Your breathing is heavy as you’re coming down from your high, noticing as Sunghoon pulls away, his lips glistening with your release on them.

He licks his lips, with that the remnants of you.

Just as you’re beginning to calm down, Sunghoon speaks, “We’re nowhere near done, sweetheart.”

Before you can say anything else, he takes his left hand and middle finger and inserts it inside you, making you gasp.

He doesn’t give you the chance to protest or adjust before he’s thrusting it in and out of you.

You throw your head back, getting used to the intrusion regardless.

Soon he’s inserting another finger, and together those fingers fuck you like no one has ever fingered you.

His fingers are long and they hit every spot inside you immediately.

Before you know it, you’re crying again in pleasure, the tears falling down your cheeks, leaving tear stains like the previous ones.

“Oh my fucking god, Sunghoon.”

“You love this, don’t you,” he says, almost like he’s mocking you.

His fingers curl, hitting that one spot inside you that has your toes curling.

Your mouth opens in shock, and stays open, refusing to close as he finger fucks you open.

Your pussy gets wetter as he goes on, more and more arousal leaking out of you onto his hand.

“You’re like a fountain,” he says, smiling almost genuinely. “You gonna cum again?”

You nod, finally closing your mouth, your lips pursing as you feel something different this time around.

“Sunghoon I think I’m gonna—”

And before you can finish, you’re squirting like an actual fountain, the liquid splashing out of you onto your sheets and Sunghoon’s hand.

You gasp, and even Sunghoon is surprised, his own mouth formed into an o.

His fingers finally slow down, pulling out of you as you finish.

Both of you are quiet for a moment before Sunghoon laughs, “That was fucking hot.”

You can’t help but blush, you’ve never squirted before.

It seems he can tell, “You’ve never done that before?”

You shake your head.

“Well, I’m glad I’m the first to do it.”

He then lands a surprisingly slap on your pussy, making you jump.

Your eyes widen, looking at him in shock and all he does is smile.

“I’m still not done with you,” he says.

“More?” You question.

“You didn’t think you’d get out of this without me fucking you, did you?”

Sunghoon pulls you towards him by your ankles, holding your legs apart before aligning himself with your hole.

You prepare yourself for his size as quickly as you can, because within seconds he’s pushing in.

You take deep breaths, “Fuck, you’re big.”

“I know,” he responds accordingly.

You pout at that, smacking his arm as he laughs at you.

He gives you time to adjust this time around, and after a moment you give him the signal to move.

You realize now he’s calmed down a little bit from before, which you don’t mind, seeing as this is a new side of him.

As he starts to piston his hips, his cock hits all the right places.

Your hands find their place on his back, your nails digging into his skin.

He groans at the feeling, liking the pain.

You mewl at the power in his thrusts, the roll of his hips.

“Fuck, yes Sunghoon.”

“You like taking my cock?”

“Love it,” you manage to get out.

“Oh you love it?” He teases you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

“Sunghoon,” you say.

He hums, focused on fucking you into the mattress.

You take his hand, bringing it up and wrapping it around your throat.

He looks into your eyes, his own widen for a moment before he bites his lip.

He presses down on the sides of your throat, just enough to wind you slightly.

“Dirty fucking girl.”

He keeps his hand there, steady pressure, making you feel closer and closer to cumming again.

“You gonna cum on my cock this time?” Sunghoon asks.

“Yes, yes, Sunghoon! Want you to cum in me!”

Sunghoon steadies himself, and uses his other hand to press on the bulge in your tummy.

“Cum for me, Y/N.”

You feel the band in your stomach snap for the third time tonight, cumming all around Sunghoon’s cock as you feel him cum inside you, pumping you full.

As his thrusts start to slow down and finally come to a stop, he unwraps his hand from your throat and just looks at you.

Your face, adorned by your glasses. Your red, tear stained cheeks. You look up at him, blinking a few times in succession, “What?”

Sunghoon leans down and for the first time, kisses you.

You kiss him back, albeit somewhat hesitantly.

As you pull away, he looks like there’s something on his mind.

You want to ask what it is, but choose not to.

After using the bathroom, Sunghoon helps you change your sheets and you both redress.

You figure he’s going to go back to his room, but he surprises you as he slides into your bed beside you.

Neither of you says anything for a few minutes, and then, Sunghoon speaks, “So, be honest with me. Who was that picture meant for?”

You take a deep breath, gunning between telling a lie and the truth. The truth eventually wins the battle.

“The truth is, it wasn’t meant for anyone. I sent it to you on purpose,” you say.

Sunghoon’s brows furrow, “But you said it was an accident?”

“Yeah, I lied. The truth is the other night, when you had Karina over I heard you tell her I’m not your type.”

Sunghoon starts to stutter out an excuse, “I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant, Sunghoon,” you say, cutting him off. “I won’t lie and say it didn’t sting but at the end of the day I already knew I wasn’t your type. The reality is I kinda just wanted you in my bed so I devised a plan with my friends to make you see me differently and well… it obviously worked.”

Sunghoon is quiet, until he’s not.

You expect him to be weirded out, curse you out and call you names. But instead, he starts laughing.

“That is the craziest shit I’ve ever heard and yet…I kinda like it.”

You look at him to find him already staring at you.

“You’re not weirded out?”

He shakes his head, “I’m oddly flattered. Maybe that’s weird but I guess that makes us both weird then.”

Suddenly, he’s shifting so he’s on top of you, caging you underneath him.

You don’t know what to do with your hands, so you, albeit somewhat awkwardly, place them on his shoulders.

“Is it safe to say you fascinate me now?” Sunghoon asks, leaning down, placing slow, deliberate kisses on your neck and shoulder.

You naturally turn your head to give him more access, “I guess not. I’ve never had someone tell me I fascinate them.”

Sunghoon’s kisses trail upwards until his lips meet yours in another fiery kiss.

Breaking away after a while, he descends until his mouth is adjacent to your clothed pussy.

“Sunghoon,” you interrupt, “we just changed the sheets.”

He looks up at you, a twinkle in his eye, “We can change them again.”

AEWON 2025

[scoupsakakitty]

Ten Years Too Late | idol!Woozi x 14thMember | fluff

Requested

The living room, dimly lit and littered with empty snack wrappers and half-finished drinks, buzzed with lazy energy. Fourteen people sprawled across couches, floors, and bean bags — a scene familiar and comfortable after over a decade spent together.

Most of them thought they’d long run out of ways to surprise each other. Ten years touring, training, living, practically breathing in the same space left little room for secrets.

But Jeonghan, as usual, decided otherwise.

“Let’s stir things up,” he announced, voice tinged with mischief. “Confession game. Old school.”

Groans echoed instantly.

“Nooo,” Seungkwan protested, flopping back onto the couch dramatically. “What could possibly be left to confess? We’ve shared everything.”

“I bet someone’s hiding something,” Jeonghan smirked, eyes glinting as he leaned forward. “First crushes. Secret habits. Come on, make it interesting.”

Hoshi sat up. “Wait, wait—first crushes?” He wiggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly.

“Sounds dangerous,” Vernon murmured, already skeptical but clearly intrigued.

Mingyu grabbed an empty water bottle and set it in the middle. “One spin. Whoever it lands on has to spill.”

The bottle spun lazily. Everyone watched with mock disinterest.

First, it pointed to Joshua, who calmly admitted he used to secretly eat ramen after practice when no one was looking, despite their diet restrictions.

Laughter broke out. Nothing earth-shattering.

Another spin. Jeonghan confessed he once swapped members’ socks just to mess with them. Dino, betrayed, demanded to know how long.

A few more rounds in, and the bottle gradually pointed to each member, the confessions lighthearted, silly, familiar.

Then it landed squarely on the fourteenth member — Y/N.

A collective murmur rippled through the room.

Y/N laughed nervously, adjusting her oversized hoodie, glancing around the circle. “I genuinely don’t think I have anything left…”

Jeonghan leaned forward eagerly. “Come on. Ten years, surely there’s something you’ve kept hidden.”

The others chimed in — DK clapping, Minghao raising an eyebrow, Woozi quietly sipping his drink from the corner.

Y/N hesitated, eyes flicking across the faces she knew better than her own reflection.

And then, before she could stop herself, she spoke.

“Fine. I had a crush on one of you when I first joined.”

The room froze. Even the background noise from the television seemed to dim.

Seungcheol sat up straighter, grin already forming. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Who?” Seungkwan demanded instantly, eyes wide, practically bouncing.

Y/N’s face was already flushed. “It was years ago! Doesn’t matter now.”

“It very much matters now,” Jeonghan declared, a devilish smile tugging at his lips. “Spill.”

All eyes zeroed in. Mingyu looked like he was holding back laughter. Hoshi was clutching DK’s arm dramatically.

Woozi, as usual, remained still, expression unreadable.

After a beat, Y/N gave in, exhaling sharply. “It was… Woozi.”

The silence stretched thin, seconds ticking by before the group erupted.

“You’re kidding!” Mingyu gasped, grinning like a kid at Christmas.

“WOOZI?!” Seungkwan practically shouted, eyes darting between Y/N and Woozi.

Even Joshua, usually the calmest, chuckled under his breath. “Didn’t see that coming.”

Woozi’s fingers paused on his drink. His gaze flickered briefly toward Y/N, surprise barely showing, but there in the slight crease of his brow.

“Me?” His voice was low, careful.

Y/N nodded quickly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah. I mean… you were focused. Talented. Kinda intense. I was a new trainee; it felt impossible not to admire you.”

Jeonghan was cackling now, clapping Seungcheol on the back. “Of all people, Woozi! Our serious little producer.”

Minghao leaned forward, chin in his hand, studying both of them with amused interest.

Hoshi nudged Woozi. “Hyung, say something. Don’t act cool now.”

But Woozi only gave a faint, almost shy huff of laughter and looked back down at his hands. “Didn’t expect that.”

“Wait, wait,” Dino cut in eagerly. “You never noticed at all, hyung?”

Woozi shook his head slightly. “Not a clue.”

Seungkwan was already leaning conspiratorially toward Y/N. “Was it bad? Like, full-on crush? Daydreaming about him writing songs for you?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, face still burning. “It was short-lived, okay? We became family pretty fast.”

But it was too late; the teasing had begun.

The next few days were relentless.

Every time Y/N walked past Woozi during practice, someone would whistle. If they sat beside each other at lunch, someone would nudge the other members and grin knowingly.

Hoshi went as far as to label Woozi’s notebook with “Love Songs for Y/N” in thick marker one afternoon, earning himself a deadpan stare and a half-hearted shove.

Even Woozi, usually the one to avoid jokes at his own expense, seemed oddly… thoughtful.

It was subtle at first — the way he glanced up during breaks when Y/N was talking, how he lingered after practice when everyone else filtered out.

No one noticed right away.

Until one evening, after a particularly long rehearsal, Woozi approached her as she was tying her shoes.

“Hey,” he started, voice quieter than usual.

She looked up, slightly surprised. “What’s up?”

There was a pause. He hesitated, eyes flicking toward the empty studio door, as if checking no one was around.

“I’ve been thinking,” Woozi said slowly, “about what you said. The other night.”

She smiled awkwardly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

He shook his head, then, almost imperceptibly, smiled.

“It’s not weird. Just… I never knew you saw me that way back then.”

She gave a half-hearted shrug, trying to brush it off. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

But Woozi didn’t look away.

“You know,” he added, voice soft, almost thoughtful, “I always thought you were the one who worked hardest out of all of us. Even back then. Maybe that’s why I wanted to write songs that fit you.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard.

He glanced down, fingers fiddling slightly with the strap of his bag.

“Anyway,” Woozi continued, almost too casually, “I was wondering… coffee tomorrow?”

Her breath caught, just a little.

He didn’t wait for an immediate answer. “If you want.”

And with that, he slung his bag over his shoulder, giving her a faint smile before heading out of the room, leaving her sitting there, stunned.

By the time she made it back to the dorm that night, her phone buzzed with a message.

Woozi [11:48 PM]:

If you’re free. No pressure.

Across the dorm, laughter still echoed from the living room. She could hear Seungkwan and Jeonghan bickering about something trivial.

But for a moment, it felt like everything had quieted, the noise receding into the background.

A grin spread across her face as she typed back.

Y/N [11:49 PM]:

Yeah. I’m free.

[clockwayswrites]

A Hill to Die On, Chapter 4 Part 2

masterpost (note that Caroline is not necessarily the best narrator about DID/OSSD, she's just trying explain her experience as she see is [in this story])

“He didn’t,” Caroline gasped, careful not to spill her wine as she leaned forward.

As soon as Dick realized that Caroline didn’t normally get to share and see the world through Tim’s eyes, he had been a fountain of stories about the family. “He did. There was a green tint to his skin for weeks. Sure, the distraction worked, I was able to slip away, but at what cost?”

“You ask that as if Bruce had any dignity left to lose,” Caroline pointed out with a raised brow. “I’m not sure there was even any to lose by the first time that I met him.”

“Oh, no, god no,” Dick said. He leaned forward to snag another piece of the dragon roll. “The cost wasn’t Bruce’s dignity, it was the fact that the fountains have never been dyed green for Saint Patty’s day again! We lost a great tradition that day.”

“A very noble one,” Caroline said somberly.

“Verily,” Dick agreed. He polled the piece of sushi in his mouth and leaned back to drape himself over the couch. He really could lounge. “How long have you known Bruce?”

“You mean you’re trying to figure out how long I’ve been around,” Caroline said.

Dick shrugged, looking only slightly cowed. “Yeah. Is that rude? I don’t want to offend you, but I can’t say that I’m not curious.”

“You’re a Bat, of course you’re curious,” Caroline allowed. She took a piece of sushi too, so that she had some time to think. “I haven’t always been around, just because I simply can’t have. Or I don’t think that I could have, because I think Tim was the first, but I don’t know when I haven’t been around. I have some unclear, fuzzy memories from before, but my first clear memory was when I was there to front for Tim’s first Gala. He was so scared about it. He didn’t want to upset his parents.”

“They weren’t your parents too?”

“No, never,” Caroline said with a vicious sort of certainty. She glanced up and caught Dick’s sympathetic look and gave a wry smile. “Do you know how badly it would have been if the Drakes knew that I existed? Or Alvin once he did? We would have been shipped off to some asylum disguised as a boarding school and they would have tried to fry me out of Tim’s brain. No, I was just there to perform admirably at galas. That was my first mission.”

Dick face was twisted up in a thoughtful little frown as he stared up at the ceiling. Caroline felt privileged that she got to see this side of Dick. She knew that he didn’t like to seem unhappy around many people.

“Didn’t Bruce pick the name Caroline Hill?”

“He did,” Caroline said.

“But…” Dick waved in her direction.

Caroline shifted and folded her legs up to her side as she thought how to explain. “I didn’t have a name. I was simply… the Woman. I think that I’m based a lot on Janet, even though she would have hated that, but also the other woman that we saw at galas. Calm, efficient, and in control. Tim knew I was there, but not… that I was? Or how much I was. I might have not even known. But when I was needed for his mission to be Caroline Hill… I don’t know. I suppose it’s a little like when Pinocchio became a real boy. Suddenly I had a name and a real mission, one for the life Tim loves. It was transformative.”

“And you’ve been… growing? Is that an okay word?”

Caroline shrugged. She didn’t mind the word at least.

“You’ve been growing ever since.”

“I suppose so,” Caroline agreed. She took a sip of her wine. She wondered how much Tim would hate her for explaining this, but someone needed to know. “After this injury, Tim hasn’t really been himself. I think maybe because he doesn’t know who he is without Robin. In all of that thinking… I don’t know how to explain it really, but I guess that there was some more room made for me and Alvin. Alvin might not much want it but God, Dick, I love being alive.”

Dick smiled. “Does that mean you’ll be around more.”

“I have been the last few weeks at least. But I promise that I’m not trying to take over from Tim,” Caroline said in a rush as it occurred to her that Dick might be worried about it. “I’m just enjoying some time out and about and some, ah, mutual interests and—”

“Caroline, calm down,” Dick interrupted. “I’m not worried about that. Whatever works for you and Tim is all that matters. And, well, Alvin. I just thought that if you’re going to be around more, we should make sure you have some things of your own.”

Caroline blinked, surprised. “Like clothing?”

“Definitely like clothing,” Dick agreed, “but also foods you like and even decor. Like, Tim has a spare bedroom, right? We could make it up as yours or at least a space that’s more your tastes.”

“Oh.” Caroline swallowed back the threat of tears. She wasn’t going to cry, damn it. “I—yes, I’d like that.”

“Shopping trip!” Dick said. His wine splashed on the floor as he threw his arms up in the air. “Oh, oh! What about inviting some of the other girls on the shopping trip?”

Caroline covered her smile with a delicate hand. “You’re not a girl.”

“Bitch, I can rock a skirt,” Dick said as he struck a pose.

“Fine, you wear a skirt for it and you can invite the other girls,” Caroline said before she could second guess it. “But you have to explain me to them before it and make sure that they… that they won’t mind me.’

“They won’t,” Dick promised, “and deal.”

[trustmypoison]

SVT when you talk in your sleep

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Good morning(sorry , I don’t know what is it in your town , it’s 4am in mine😅) I was thinking, what do you think SVT reaction would be if their partner was talking in their sleep? Because I have this habit too sometimes, and My little sister told me once that I scared her so much when I said “be quiet, someone in this room can hear you” 🙂 So, yeah… Thank you very much🙏🏻’

A/N: I’m semi-back, is anyone still here? 😅

His camera roll is full of your random mumblings - Jeonghan, Joshua, Seungkwan

He’ll purposefully stay up after you’ve gone to bed sometimes just so he can catch your nonsensical ramblings. His phone is often at the ready - and a few of these clips may end up in the group chat sometimes. You think he just wants to tease you and make fun of you, but really, these are the little things that he misses when he’s not home.

Absolutely adores the nonsense you spout but never wants to embarrass you with it - Seungcheol, Woozi, Vernon

I won’t say that he doesn’t record some of your ramblings sometimes, because he might! But he would never dream of sharing it. Your midnight ramblings mean you’re comfortable with him and he’d never say or anything to make you feel like you shouldn’t be. So much so that you might not even know that you do it until you’re pretty far into the relationship and he casually says, “oh, you sleeptalk all the time.” He’ll assure you that he thinks it’s sweet.

Holds full conversations that you’ll never remember - DK, Minghao

You know how parents become really attuned to a baby or toddler’s rambling? Like the kid totally butchers words and the parents still know what they mean? Yeah, these two are total experts on your ‘language’ when you sleeptalk. Sometimes if you complain about something while still asleep, he’ll simply say, “I know, honey. We’ll take care of it tomorrow. Just rest.” But then there are times that you have a lot to say and he’ll happily carry on a conversation at 3 in the morning, knowing full well that you won’t remember any of it.

Actually worried when you don’t talk in your sleep - Jun, Wonwoo, Mingyu

He learned pretty quickly that you seem to get the best sleep when you sleeptalk. So if there’s a night that you don’t say much, he might worry a bit. He’ll find you as you’re getting the next morning and be like, “you didn’t talk to me last night ☹️.” What he really means is, what’s bothering you and how can I help? He’s worried but might not outright voice that.

Totally will never hear you - Hoshi, Chan

This is is totally a personal headcanon, but I think they sleep like the dead. They’d never know that you sleeptalk unless they come in late after you’ve already gone to bed. Even if they do know, it will likely never wake them up.

[sthilarions]

Crystal looks sideways at Niko, who nods at her, and turns back to Edwin. “Edwin, we - Niko and I - we were thinking. You said your case was covered up, and so we were wondering if you’d even got a burial. So we looked it up, and…” She looks at Niko again, feeling a little more heavy under the weight of Edwin’s eyebrow than she normally does.

“And we figured out you hadn’t,” Niko obligingly finishes for her. “Not even a funeral, because they didn’t find a body and also probably because they weren’t very good people. And we thought that was kind of sad. So we were wondering if maybe you wanted a funeral. We could do one for you.”

Edwin’s second eyebrow has risen to meet the first, and Crystal forgets what she’d planned to say, and instead blurts out “Do you have a body, Edwin?”

Edwin’s brows drop as he rolls his eyes. “Of course I do. It’s in Charles’s bag.”

Crystal’s mouth falls open and Niko’s eyes bug out a bit.

Edwin’s smirking a bit, always pleased to put Crystal off her groove even when she’s trying to do something nice, when he says “My bones are quite a powerful ingredient in spells, so I powdered them and Charles keeps them in a rather large jar. Only for emergencies, of course, I only have one set of bones to last an eternity.”

Crystal’s mouth drops a little further. She wishes it wouldn’t.

Edwin twitches a little in the way that Crystal’s learned means he’s about to admit to a Weakness, which is possibly the only redeeming part of this conversation, and says “Also, I couldn’t move very far from them, at first. Some ghosts can’t, and there doesn’t seem to be much of a pattern. They were in a chest in the attic where I met Charles, or I wouldn’t have been there myself, so it was for the best in the end. It rather quickly became an inconvenience, however, when we realized we were either tethered to the area near the attic, or had to bring my bones with us.”

Charles has come back into the room, at some point, and Edwin glances towards him before resuming. “A dry human skeleton only weighs, oh, about five to ten pounds, but it’s rather unwieldy to be carrying one about everywhere.”

Niko seems to be starting to recover, and nods. “That does seem like it would be awkward.”

“Quite, yes, Niko. And we hadn’t thought of powdering and jarring it yet at the time. The original intent of the bag was to store my skeleton so we could more easily carry it; its wider use we only worked out a bit later.”

Charles steps up towards Edwin and puts a hand on his shoulder, and Crystal wonders why on Earth she and Niko came up with this idea without talking to Charles in the first place and avoiding… this. “He’s way better at separating from the bones, now. He can take a few minutes away from them entirely, otherwise we wouldn’t’ve been able to mirror travel cross-continent without holding hands. And generally so long as we’re in the same county he’s totally fine. ‘S part of why I was so worried when the Cat King ran off with him, though. I was worried they’d gone too far.”

Crystal finally regains her composure. “So all this time while you two have been claiming you aren’t actually attached at the hip, he literally can’t get too far away from you without, like, spontaneously combusting?”

Charles grins at Edwin, then at her. “Well, I mean, it’s more that he can’t get too far from my bag, and it’s not a combusting situation, exactly, but I guess, yeah.”

Crystal rolls her eyes far more violently than Edwin had earlier. “Of course. Fucking typical.”

[prlssprfctn]

Why is Jason Todd so victimized when every other bat has been through worse and I’m not saying this in a “ everyone moved on ” kinda way but compared to everyone else not much happened in his life he’s just a cunt which I personally love

hi, so:

i don't think it is fair or ethically correct to compare the amount of suffering batfamily went through, especially considering that all of them have a very, very different backstories, nuances and moments

i would actually argue that nothing happened in Jason's life. let's go through the short recap: depending on how you interpret the tragery of Todd family, as a very little kid Jason either witnessed his semi-normal family ruining itself or he never knew the normality of it at all. then, his father gets in jail, and Jason is left all alone with his sick, addicted mother that needs to be taken care of. at this point, he is not even ten, btw. he needs to take care of himself, of Catherine, to get money somehow, to find drugs for his mother because there is no alternative unless he wants her to die. in the search of money, it is very implied that Jason goes through the hell; surely, we all understand what it means. eventually, his mother dies. he witnesses it, holds her dead body, begging her to wake up. from there, his life on the streets start - and it is nowhere near kind. his three happy years with Bruce end up quickly, leaving him thinking that Bruce disowned him, and he is scared to be back on the streets. he finds his biological mother, and she betrays him. he dies, dies in pain and terror, betrayed. he wakes up in his own coffin, dugs himself out, breaking all his fingers. his body must have hurt immensely from all previous injuries, and yet, he crawls out. gets hit by a car and thrown on the streets again. he is catatonic, surviving on the streets for six months or so, all alone, just feeling constant pain and fear. then, Talia picks him up. eventually dips down in the Pit. his life doesn't get better from there, too. he remains unavenged, and from his point of perspective, discarded and made nothing but a bad story for future kids. his father instantly disowns him after his return, and throws batarang in his neck, slicing it, almost killing him (or killing him, actually, depending on your idea of what happened). and... and after that his life doesn't really fix itself either? you choose your next comic to rely on, but in the most of it he constantly gets jumped by his brothers, smashed around like a rag doll by Bruce, etc, etc. i would argue that it is a lot to happen to a person. especially, to a kid. because by the end of it, Jason is not even older than twenty-five, going through all of it.

fans love exploring his mental health issues, and it is very valid. especially, when comics ignore it completely or blame him for his own traumas. half of comics with Jason, also, have a classist undertone - they treat him like a dog and a rabid animal just because he was grown in the Park Row. writers victimblame him constantly for everything. so, idk about victimising, really.

i do agree that Jason's portrayal in the fanon is not always correct, though, either varying between making him some kind of rude, obnoxious idiot with only anger motivating him or a complete whump without personality which simply takes all complexity of a character from him, but then again, fanon being very different from canon is always a thing... everywhere, tbh.

he is the og brat, though. love him for it.

[starmocha]

HELLO. MAY I INTEREST YOU IN SOME FALLEN ANGEL CALEB BRAINWORM

very much based on this previous post I had made lol

btw i'm also begging for an angel/devil au, but we're the devil he falls in love with and he gets cast out of heaven and i would totally write this if i was not juggling 82438238932 wips rn.....but we'll see i tend to do the most impulsive things ever

tagging some ppl who i feel like to enable my intrusive brainworms often <333 @solifloris @aeyumicore @deepspacenova @quiet-oracle @philosians

this is totally not based on all of the biblical references/symbolism surrounding Caleb

apple — symbolizes knowledge, but also temptation, sin, immortality. and as in the story of Adam and Eve in the Book of Genesis, it also represents the fall of man. Also known as the "forbidden fruit".

name — The name Caleb is of Hebrew origin, meaning wholehearted, faithful and dog-like. In the Old Testament, a follower of Moses named Caleb, was rewarded for his faithfulness and was one of the few to visit the Promised Land.

Caleb's love of flying and being in the sky — ...no angel reference here, no sirree.

Caleb returning to the main story after the...explosive...events of chapter four...I'm not saying it's a rebirth (which in a biblical sense could mean a number of things, including seeking forgiveness and salvation).

Caleb and MC both talking about keeping the other person to themself, in a world of their own.......could mean anything. Not like it's a direct reference to Adam and Eve only having each other in the Garden of Eden, their own paradise. Oh what's this, one of Caleb's theme songs is called "Weightless Paradise" ....what a coincidence.....

The report stating Caleb and MC are the optimal weapon for destroying one another...probably means nothing. Never mind the fact that Eve was also created for Adam from one of Adam's ribs.

And she is the one who persuades him to eat the forbidden fruit, setting in motion their exile from Eden.

Surely, the gratuitous back shots are not trying to make you think of wings, right.

It's probably just a coincidence that the back of Caleb's uniform looks like there's an emblem of wings. And oh, what's that, when he is hurt in battles, his uniform is torn the most in the back...not saying this is trying to depict his wings being mutilated and torn off. 🙂

But you should all absolutely read @eeriepromis analysis about seraphim for funsies.

Choosing to give Caleb the Evol to manipulate gravity was probably not intentional........not like he could make himself float almost like he is flying............

I'm sure this means absolutely nothing that in the third theme song Cosmic Encounter, Caleb and MC are both falling from the sky (the "heavens," if you will). 🙂 This probably has nothing to do with the image of him being cast out of Heaven and fallen from grace.

random lines that I am in no way inferring he is speaking like he is her guardian angel

"I'm Caleb. I'll always be by your side." — Main Story: Homecoming Wings, 1-4

"Lay a hand on her again, and I will kill you." — Main Story: Homecoming Wings, 1-9

"I will protect you." — Main Story: Homecoming Wings, 2-7

"No one can take me away from you." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"Then, can you carry a little of this sin, too? Don't leave me in this loneliness any longer." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"...When you held my hand that day for the first time, I knew I'd never get away from you." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"So, don't be afraid... No matter what happens, I'll be here for you." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"Maybe it's because... I love you a little more than you realize." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"But until that final moment, we'll always be together." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"Even if it's pain... As long as it's from you, I want it." — Memoria: Painful Signal

"Don't go... Don't leave me alone." — Memoria: Endless Summer

"A ruined world doesn't deserve you." — Memoria: Hidden Waves

"I want you to stay here. Stay with me." — Memoria: Hidden Waves

"Let me protect you... I can guarantee this will be the last time." — Bond: Rain's Embrace

"I won't lose! I have someone I must protect!" — Memoria: Deceptive Solitude

✨fallen angel Caleb myth pls✨

✨pretty pls fallen angel Caleb myth✨

[22ayla21]

imagine a mean kid just name-calling mydei's youngest princes stuff like "nerd" etc, and she's just staring at them deadpan and unbothered like "ok cool" but what she didnt know is that her older sister had seen the entire thing. how would the lioness princess react to her little sister getting bullied?

Sister's Defense

When the middle sister finds out that the younger one is being bullied, she, like a real predator, is ready to rip out the offender's throat.

The middle sister, having learned about the situation, immediately tensed up. She was used to protecting the family, and even though the youngest was too calm to react to the offender, it didn’t mean that the middle sister would leave everything as it was.

At first, she watched. She saw how this boy tried to hurt the youngest, how he mocked, but she only lazily turned the page of the book, completely ignoring him. It was irritating. Not so much the boy, but the middle sister herself – how dare he?

The next time he approached the youngest, the middle sister was already waiting.

- A nerd, you say? - Her voice sounded low and with a slight grin. The boy turned around, and the next moment he realized that he had made a mistake.

The middle sister stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest, with that very expression on her face that did not bode well. A dangerous light, familiar to everyone who knew the family, burned in her eyes. She took a step closer, and the boy involuntarily retreated.

- You know, right, that I can beat you so hard that you'll even have to reread books because you'll forget the entire alphabet?

The boy blushed sharply, stumbling over his words.

- Th-that... I just...

The middle sister bowed her head, with a sly grin.

- Just what?

He swallowed and ran away without saying a word. The youngest sister, without looking up from her book, lazily said:

- You're wasting your energy on people like that.

The middle one snorted, grinning.

- I even find it funny.

The youngest just turned the page, not even deigning to look at her. But when the middle sister turned away, a shadow of a satisfied smile flickered across her lips.

[wchswift]

hiiii omg i love your writing. no pressure but a request ! logan has a date planned, maybe for valentine’s day, or an anniversary, or just for no reason. and the reader doesn’t feel well (i’m chronically ill myself and get intermittent aches and ailments but the reader doesn’t have to be… just anything that keeps her in bed) so they have to stay in? and logan is of course a sweetheart about it, doting and lovely etc, insisting on caring for her. i just think he’d be so sweet 🥺 - marshmallowmusing 🤍

— always taking care of you.

pairing: logan howlett x reader

summary: logan cancels your anniversary plans to care for you, making it so clear that for him doesn't matter where—but who. word count: 1.1k

notes: hii sweetie!! thank you very much, makes me so happy to know that you like my writing <3 and I'm sorry it took me so long to write this, really sorryy!! I loved your request sm and I'm so sorry about your chronic ill, it's so hard :( I hope I write it how you wanted and that you like it 🫶 (I love sweet and caring logan btw)

This day had been planned for weeks. Logan had set everything up—not that he’d let you in on every little detail. He liked keeping things quiet, liked the idea of surprising you. But today was special, and he wanted to do it right.

A little trip somewhere private, something comfortable and just for the two of you. Then dinner—something fancier than usual, but not too much, just enough to make you smile. He’d worked all day thinking about it, about how you’d look, about how your face would light up when he told you what he had planned.

So when he finally stepped through the cabin door, heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor, he exhales, rolling his shoulders, his body still warm from a day's work, the cool evening air clinging to his flannel. He's expecting to find you up and getting ready, maybe fixing your hair, slipping into something nice for the dinner he planned. Instead, the cabin is quiet, the place so still. No soft music playing, no sound of you moving around. Just the crackle of the fireplace and the quiet hush of the evening.

And then he sees you.

Curled up in bed, hands over your eyes, the way your body sinks into the mattress tells him everything before you even stir. His brows furrow.

“Hey, darlin’,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “What’s goin’ on? Why aren’t you ready yet?”

You shift slightly, your breath catching, like even the sound of his voice is too much. His concern deepens, and within a second, he’s crouched beside you, rough fingers brushing over your forehead.

“Headache?” he guesses, already knowing the answer.

You nod slowly, voice small. “Yeah, It's my migraine. It’s bad. My body, too.”

That part tugs at something deep in his chest. He exhales, rubbing a slow, grounding touch along your arm. He hates seeing you in pain—hates knowing there’s nothing he can do to take it from you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice thick with guilt. “I know you had everything planned. I just—”

Logan huffs, shaking his head before you can finish. “None of that,” he says firmly, voice soft but unyielding. He takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, lingering there for a second. “Ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, sweetheart. Plans don’t mean a damn thing if you’re hurtin’.”

You try to blink up at him, but even the dim glow of the room feels sharp. He frowns, tugging off his jacket and kicking off his boots before climbing into bed beside you. He shifts carefully, pulling you against him, letting you bury yourself into his warmth. His fingers slip into your hair, massaging slow, soothing strokes against your scalp.

For a while, he just stays like that, holding you, steady and sure. His body runs hot, solid and safe, and you melt into him, exhaustion tugging at you.

At some point, he murmurs, “When’s the last time you ate somethin’?”

You groan, tucking your face against his chest. “Logan—”

“I’ll take that as a no.” He’s already moving before you can protest, shifting out of bed and heading toward the kitchen. “Stay put.”

You hear him rummaging around, grumbling under his breath, something about “stubborn woman never takin’ care of herself” before the smell of something warm fills the air. When he comes back, it’s with a mug of tea and a plate of something simple but comforting.

You try to argue, but he just gives you that look—the one that leaves no room for negotiation.

“Eat, drink,” he orders, settling back beside you, one arm draped protectively over your waist. “Then you can go back to sleep.”

So you do, if only because it makes him relax a little.

When you finish, Logan takes the plate from you, setting it aside before reaching for the remote. The TV hums to life, the volume turned low, just enough to be soft background noise.

You shift, resting your head against his chest, but he doesn’t move to watch the screen. His attention stays on you. His fingers drift lazily along your arm, tracing mindless patterns. Every time you sigh or shift slightly, his gaze flickers, checking on you, making sure you’re not in more pain.

Eventually, sleep pulls you under, and Logan stays exactly where he is. Even with the movie playing in the background, he doesn’t care about it—not when you’re curled up against him like this, your breathing evening out, finally at ease.

He watches you. Not in a way that feels intrusive—just quiet, steady. Like he’s memorizing every little detail, like he needs to keep an eye on you, just in case.

At some point, you stir, the worst of the pain dulling as you blink up at him, a little hazy but clearer than before. He meets your gaze instantly, thumb brushing over your cheek.

“You watchin’ me?” you murmur, voice still thick with sleep.

Logan smirks slightly, tilting his head. “Maybe.”

You shift, pressing closer, seeking his warmth. He lets you, arms tightening around you automatically.

“I mean it, Logan,” you say softly after a moment. “You’re perfect.”

His jaw tenses, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with that. He shakes his head, letting out a rough, almost amused breath. “Nah, sweetheart. You’re givin’ me too much credit.”

“I’m not,” you insist, voice quiet but firm. “You take care of me. Even when I feel like I don’t deserve it. Thank you.”

Logan exhales, his fingers pressing lightly into your back. “You always deserve it,” he murmurs, almost like he doesn’t even have to think about it. “Ain’t got a damn thing to do with deservin’ it. It’s just you. Always gonna take care of you.”

You swallow, blinking up at him. His face is softened in the low light, a little rough around the edges from the long day, but there’s something so warm in his gaze. Something deep and unwavering.

“S’our anniversary,” he murmurs after a moment. “Should still celebrate, even if we ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

Your fingers curled into his shirt, holding him close, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering ache in your body.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

Logan hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there like he never wanted to move. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Think I got an idea.”

You press closer, eyes fluttering shut as a small, contented hum escapes you.

And that’s enough of an answer.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

taglist: @namikyento @blossomingorchids @logaenhowlett @cruel-as-sin (let me know if you want to be added or removed <3)

[pukefactory]

✦ ─ ˗ˋ FLIRT WITH THE AIR ˊ˗ ─ ✦

⬨ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Black Sapphire Cookie Flirting With An Oblivious Reader

⬨ Character(s): Black Sapphire Cookie (Cookie Run Kingdom)

⬨ Genre: Headcannons, SFW

⬨ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

⬨ Image Credits: @/royalmargarines30thfan_ on Pinterest

★ Black Sapphire Cookie is nothing if not patient. He spins compliments like golden threads, weaving them into his usual smooth-talking banter. “Oh, sweet listener of mine, your presence makes the world dazzle in ways even I couldn’t fabricate~” And yet… nothing. Not a blush, not a stammer, just a polite nod and a “That’s nice! Anyway, did you hear about—” He swears, he’s going to need a whole new broadcast just to document your sheer obliviousness.

★ He’s draping himself over your shoulders, whispering in your ear with that velvety voice, his breath just brushing your skin. “If you’d only lean just a little closer, darling… I’d let you in on a very exclusive rumour~” You lean in. He smirks. “Mm, it’s about you and me, actually.” And yet, instead of catching the meaning, you just ask, “Oh? Is it good press or bad?”

★ He loves the game, the chase, the push-and-pull… but this is ridiculous. How can one Cookie be so blind? He finds himself watching you more than he intends to, microphone twirling in his hand, muttering under his breath. “At this point, I’d need to shout it live on air to get through to them…” Candy Apple Cookie overhears and laughs so hard she nearly drops her lollipop.

★ When Shadow Milk Cookie asks why Black Sapphire Cookie seems more exasperated than usual, he just sighs, leaning back in his chair like a tragic performer at the end of an act. “Master, I have spun lies so grand they shape history itself, but convincing them that I am flirting? That, that is the one tale they refuse to believe.” Shadow Milk Cookie just stares. “…I see.”

★ He’s a master of getting the spotlight, but you? You’re maddening. You’ll listen, sure, but you’ll also get distracted by some trivial thing—like another Cookie passing by or an interesting rock on the ground. “Darling, I could weave a tale so thrilling it makes kingdoms crumble—” “Oh wow, look at this! The pattern on this stone is so cool!” Black Sapphire Cookie clutches his microphone like it’s his last shred of sanity.

★ At this point, he’s not above using a little… sarcasm. “Ahh, my dear, your ability to completely ignore my every advance is truly inspiring. Have you considered taking up a career in resisting temptation? You’d be phenomenal.” Of course, you just laugh and say, “Oh wow, really? I never thought about that before.” He stares into the void.

★ Candy Apple Cookie, ever the chaos gremlin, is having way too much fun watching Black Sapphire Cookie struggle. “He’s so into you, y’know,” she whispers one day. “He even calls you ‘darling’ and everything!” You just shrug. “He calls everyone darling.” Black Sapphire Cookie, standing nearby, physically reels.

★ He’s not jealous. Nope. Not at all. He totally doesn’t get irritated when another Cookie gets a little too close, even if they’re just talking to you. And he absolutely does not go on air later to spread a mildly exaggerated rumor about that Cookie, just to keep them away. Nope. Purely professional.

★ One day, he does make it official. No games, no riddles, no sultry suggestions. He just looks at you, dead serious, and says, “Darling. You. Me. Dating. Do you understand?” You blink. “…Ohhh, that’s what you’ve been hinting at?” He nearly drops his microphone. “YES?! What else—” He groans, but he’s also grinning. Maybe it was worth the wait after all.

★ When it finally clicks, you try to flirt back. The problem? You’re terrible at it. “So uh… you’ve got nice… um… microphone-handling skills?” Black Sapphire Cookie just laughs, deep and rich, the sound curling like smoke around you. “Oh, darling~” he purrs, looping an arm around your own. “You are so lucky you’re cute.”

[frogsinflannel]

Hi! For the make me write: 🎲🎲🎲

Ahh, thank you for this! HOW EXCITING, so full of possibility. Hmm, I do want to make some progress on "until I wrap..." so. Here we are! 💚

"until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest" - this part rated M for suggested sexual content

[ first | second | third | this part ]

“Buck.”  Karen, already tipsy, giggles behind her hand.  “What is that on your neck?”

“Oh! Uh…”  Buck flushes and cups the side of his neck.  He hadn’t checked before they’d left, but he knew Tommy had been… enthusiastic.  It was why they’d been late.  “I–I mean, it’s… it’s nothing.”

Hen tilts her head down and gives him a look.  He feels his face heat up further as Tommy chuckles beside him and puts an arm around his shoulders.  “That’s an awful big nothing there, Buck.”

“She’s right,” Tommy says.  Buck whips his head over to look at him and Tommy gives him a sedate smile, his eyes sparkling.  “Can’t believe you’d go out in public like that, Evan.  With a hickey that big?”  He clicks his tongue and shakes his head–like it wasn’t his damn fault in the first place.  “Baby, you should have left that behind in high school.”

He jerks away from his hold but Tommy just laughs and tugs at his hair.  And well.  It’s not like Buck doesn’t like it.  He huffs and rolls his eyes.  “Okay mister we-have-time.  Mister don’t worry, Evan, I won’t leave a mark.”

“Hmm.”  Tommy’s eyes go half-lidded and his smile curls up, pleased with itself, tinged with heat.  The hand in Buck’s hair makes him zing with pleasure as it scritches with slow, blunt nails at his scalp.  “Did I say that?”

“Boys.”  Karen gives them a look clearly meant to be chastising, her mouth in a flat line and her brows raised.  “Veering way too close into I-don’t-want-to-know territory with that one.”  Tommy, of course, feels absolutely no shame, but Buck is repentant.  Just long enough for Karen to hiccup and ruin her stern demeanor completely.

Hen laughs and puts her hand over her wife’s on the table and gives it a gentle squeeze.  “And you might be veering into last glass of wine territory.”

“Must be some good wine, hmm, Mrs. Wilson?” Tommy asks.  Karen smiles at him like they’re sharing a secret and Buck is so in love and so warmed–and so turned on that he kind of wishes he could suck his dick about it.

“It is,” Karen says.  She takes another sip, letting her eyes wander over to Hen, giving a little shimmy as she lets the rim of her glass linger at her mouth.  “Very good.”

“Okay,” Hen says.  She holds her hand out and Karen hands her the glass and she sets it on the table.  She’s using an I-have-to-be-the-adult-here voice, but she doesn’t sound too put out about it.  “I think we’re all veering into a little too horny territory.”

“Sorry my love,” Karen murmurs, leaning in close and kissing Hen’s cheek.

“Sorry,” Buck parrots.  He grins, cheeky and broad, putting a hand on Tommy’s thigh under the table.  “I’ll behave.”

“Huh.”  Hen snorts.  “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Don’t worry,” Tommy says.  He presses his leg into Buck’s.  “He just needs the right encouragement.”

“Uh-uh,” Hen snaps, pointing a finger at Tommy.  “Do not start with me, Kinard, what did I just say?”

“Sorry,” Tommy murmurs, barely managing to fake contrition.  He takes the neck of his beer between two fingers and tips it up to his mouth.  Buck watches, eyes intent and lips parted, aware that he’s proving Hen’s point but not caring. “In my defense, it was Karen who brought it up.”

Hen rolls her eyes up to the ceiling.  “Jesus,” she says.  Then she laughs.  “You like it.”

Tommy grins and Buck rolls his hand inward to press his fingertips to the inseam of his jeans.  “I’m choosing not to respond to that.”

Karen shakes her head. "Possessive much?"

Which. Is not something Buck has thought too much about but he's surprised to find how much he likes the idea of it. He shifts in the booth and hopes no one notices.

"I don't think of it as being possessive," Tommy shrugs. "I know Evan's mine." His eyes cut over to Buck for half a second and Buck has to bite back a whine, knowing he's all but panting. Tommy knows exactly what he's doing. "He just looks good when he shows it."

Yours, Buck thinks. I'm yours. It makes something inside his chest roar to life and he lifts his hand, presses hard against the bruise on his neck. He sucks in a breath. Tommy notices, of course he does, and Buck clears his throat.

"Hey, uh... Sorry to cut this short Hen, but. Uh, Tommy, we should... I-I left something in your pants--I mean, your truck---"

"We took an Uber here, but okay."

Buck scowls. "At the house then. And I think we should go get it?"

Tommy finishes his beer off and then stands. "Oh definitely. It sounds urgent, Evan, we should leave right away."

Buck is already sliding out after him. Tommy's such a bitch. Buck loves him so much. He's going to suck his brains out through his dick and then throw him on the bed and fuck him silly. And Tommy's going to be a little mean about it, just how Buck likes, pulling his hair and saying Is that all you've got, baby? Such a good boy for me, huh? So desperate voice all honeyed and condescending. And then Buck's going to come so hard he cries. He can't wait.

"Please leave," Hen says, fed up with them. And it's like Buck can blame her. He grabs Tommy's hand and starts leading him away as Karen boos, leaning into her wife, wine-drunk and soft. Tommy walks a step or two backwards, waving at the Wilsons. Then he turns and swoops around, pulling Buck in by the waist and taking the lead through the crowded bar.

Buck grins. Maybe he'll get a matching mark on the other side.

[writingwithciara]

across the hall; part 9 -quinn hughes-

summary: y/n moves in across the hall from quinn and in an emergency, she leaves her five-year old daughter in his care

word count: 2.2k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader, toxic ex-boyfriend x reader

notes:

abby and y/n had been living with quinn for 2 months. y/n and quinn were both incredibly busy so they barely had time to see each other.

however, when y/n would work a longer than a normal shift, she would come home to a nice hot meal that seemed to have been prepared just in time for her arrival. but when she would check on quinn, he would already be asleep.

and on the nights she worked a regular shift, she would come home to find quinn and abby curled up together on the couch. abby was asleep every time but quinn stayed awake some of the time. he wanted to make sure y/n made it home safe. but on the nights he had failed to stay awake, y/n would cover the two with a blanket and head to her room.

for quinn, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the feelings he was developing for y/n. he knew he loved her and he was very fond of abigail. but he knew he couldn't say a thing to y/n. or anyone for that matter. it would scare her away and it was the last thing he wanted to do.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

on a day during the week before christmas, y/n had the day off so she was spending it with natalie and bella while quinn had taken abby to spend the day with his brothers and brock.

the girls were helping y/n with the rest of her christmas shopping. it was almost done but she was having trouble deciding what to get quinn.

"this shouldn't be as hard as it is." y/n groaned and turned to her friends. "you guys have known him longer. what do you think he'd like?"

"just because we've known him longer than you, doesn't mean we know him better." bella smiled. "you can do this, y/n. reach into your heart and figure out what he likes."

"yeah. you got this, girl." natalie looked around the store. she still had a few things to buy but nothing was catching her eye so she turned her attention back to the girls.

"i'm trying to think of something he needs but he already has everything i can think of." y/n sighed.

"you could honestly get him anything and he'd be happy." bella smiled. "i don't think anything could ever top you agreeing to move in with him though."

"yeah. he was over the moon the day after it happened. i remember him telling j.t. how excited he was and how full he felt having you around." natalie nudged y/n with a knowing smirk.

"that's good, i suppose." y/n checked her phone as it dinged. quinn sent her a photo of abby on brock's shoulders. the girl was staring down at him with a smile on her face.

think she's over her crush on jack now 😂 the text read.

y/n flipped the phone around to show bella. "i think you may have some competition."

"i can't compete with her. she's too damn adorable."

"indeed she is." y/n put her phone back in her pocket and looked at the stuff she had in the cart. "i think it's time to head home. i'll figure out quinn's gift later. plus, we have a game to get ready for."

"that's right. and the guys are gonna kick some ass tonight."

"but if they don't, i hope you can cheer up quinn. he's especially grumpy after a tough game."

"i'm aware. and don't worry. i know how to cheer him up. wouldn't be the first time." she piled all the stuff onto the conveyor belt. when she looked back at the girls, her eyes widened at their expressions. "no. wait. i didn't mean it like that. i swear."

"relax. we know you didn't mean it that way."

"but i'm sure quinn wouldn't mind being cheered up that way." bella smirked. "i mean, he definitely loves going home, knowing that you'll be there waiting for him."

"we've become quite comfortable as roommates. and abby adores him to no end." y/n smiled and put everything in the cart after she paid. "it's a good thing we got going on. so i don't want to ruin it by reading too much into that comment."

"was that a somewhat tiny confession?" bella eyed her friend suspiciously.

"i do believe it was." natalie smiled and after she paid for her things, she followed the girls back out to the car. y/n rolled her eyes as she got in the driver's seat.

once she dropped the two girls off at their own homes, she was alone with her thoughts. things between her and quinn were really good and she knew she couldn't ask for a better friend.

as she parked in her spot and climbed out of her car, she felt excited to be going home. she couldn't stop replaying bellas' comment from earlier.

he definitely loves going home, knowing that you'll be there waiting for him.

she knew it was true because she had witnessed it firsthand how happy he got when he saw her on the couch after coming home from a particularly upsetting game.

as she approached their door, she could hear abby giggling on the other side. and just knowing that quinn was responsible for it, made her heart soar.

she opened the door and watched as quinn ran around with abby on his back. they were both laughing and when abby spotted y/n, her smile grew.

"momma, you're back!"

quinn turned around and just like abby, his smile grew wider when he locked eyes with y/n. he gently set abby down and let her run to her mother.

"hey. how was the shopping trip?"

"it was great. got a present for almost everyone on my list." she set the bags in her room and returned to where quinn was. "i couldn't find you anything that felt good enough."

"that's alright. you don't have to get me anything." quinn chuckled. "i already have the one thing i wanted."

"and what's that?"

"you and abby living here with me."

"bella said something similar earlier. but i didn't believe her." y/n smiled and looked at quinn. "i'm still going to get you something. and it's going to be perfect."

"i suppose we'll see." quinn raised an eyebrow and headed for the door. "you guys are coming to the game, right?"

"yeah. we just have to get ready then we'll drive over to the arena."

"great. see you there." quinn picked up his bag and walked out.

y/n went over to abby and smiled. "alright. let's get you ready for the game."

3 hours later, y/n was watching the boys closely. they seemed to be doing better this game than they had all season. and in their 3rd period, it seemed as though florida wasn't holding anything back. they were checking vancouver players into the boards every other minute.

and at one point, one of the florida players checked quinn into the boards roughly, causing his face to hit the glass. quinn slid down to the ice as the whistle was blown.

"florida number 19. 2 minutes for cross-checking." the ref spoke through his mic and made all the necessary gestures as the linesmen escorted matthew tkachuk to the penalty box.

quinn got up and skated slowly over to the bench. he sat down and y/n kept a close eye on him as he got checked over by the team medic.

after a few minutes, he was given the all-clear to head back onto the ice to finish the game. and he came back with a vengeance, scoring 2 times in less than 30 seconds.

the canucks ended up winning in a 7-0 shutout and everyone cheered. y/n walked with bella and natalie down to the players' hallway to wait. abby held onto her hand tightly and the second she saw brock exit the locker room, she released y/n's hand and ran towards him.

"brock, that was amazing!" she hugged his leg tightly.

bella rolled her eyes playfully and walked up to brock. "she's right. you played a great game, babe."

y/n watched as j.t. came out and went to natalie, pulling her into a hug and kissing her head. she so badly wanted a loving relationship like that, but she didn't have much luck in that department.

quinn was the last one out of the locker room. abby ran to him immediately.

"you were awesome out there, quinn." she smiled as he picked her up.

"thank you, abby. i'm glad you had fun."

"how's your head feeling?" y/n looked at him as he stood next to her.

"a little better now than when i got hit." he offered her a kind smile. "i'm glad you came tonight."

"me too." they stared at each other for longer than two friends should before abby broke their moment.

"i'm hungry. can we get food?"

"the only place open this late is mcdonald's." quinn looked at the girl he was holding.

"and i'm okay with that." abby smiled and glanced between them.

"alright then." quinn chuckled. "did you drive here?"

"no. took a cab. figured everyone would want to go out after the game and i figured it would be the smartest option to carpool."

"well, it's a good thing you had faith in the the team then."

"i always have faith in you, quinn." y/n grinned.

as quinn admired her, something inside him shifted and he was suddenly free falling. his feelings were going wild and he had to fight to keep the words inside.

thankfully, they were still in the company of brock and bella.

"mind if we join you guys at mcdonald's?"

"absolutely. the more the merrier." quinn handed abby to y/n and they walked to the garage. he helped get abby in the seat before he held the door for y/n. she climbed in silently and as quinn drove, he could feel her eyes drift in his direction every few seconds. "i need to talk to you when we get home later."

"okay." y/n smiled at him before turning her gaze out the window until they reached mcdonald's. before y/n could get out herself, quinn was already out and opening her door. he walked over to abby's door and got her out, carrying her into the restaurant.

y/n was about to order when quinn spoke up and ordered for her. he knew exactly what she wanted and she loved it.

bella was already sitting by the time the order was placed and brock was waiting for the food. y/n decided to take abby from quinn and join bella at the table. as she sat down, bella couldn't stop the question.

"how obvious can you guys be?"

"i beg your pardon?"

"you and quinn." bella pointed like it was most obvious thing in the world. "you guys are not very good at hiding your feelings."

"what feelings?"

"do you really need me to spell it out? you're not an idiot, y/n. i know you can feel the way quinn looks at you."

"i feel the way everyone looks at me. so what?"

"that man is obsessed with you. like, he's really in love or something."

"and how do you know that?"

"because he looks at you the way brock looks at me. and unless my boyfriend doesn't love me, it's clear that quinn loves you. or at the very least, has feelings for you."

"i love you, bella. but you are insane." y/n glanced over at the boys to find them already looking at the table.

"it's true, mom." abby giggled. "and i think maybe you like him too."

"you know what? just for that comment, i'm going to eat all your fries."

"go ahead. i only wanted the nuggets anyway." abby smiled and stuck her tongue out at her mom.

on the other side of the restaurant, quinn kept glancing at y/n. brock slapped his arm.

"why don't you just tell her already?"

"what? no idea what you're talking about."

"oh come on. you're not stupid, quinn. and you're far from subtle. you keep looking at y/n every 3 seconds."

"i do not." but just as he finished his sentence, he found himself glancing back at her. "okay. fine. i like her. like, really really like her."

"was that so hard?"

"yes, actually. the last time i liked someone this much, it blew up in my face. remember olivia?"

"of course i do. but the past isn't doomed to keep repeating. you owe it to yourself to at least tell her."

"she lives with me. what if i tell her i like her and she doesn't feel the same? then it'll be awkward and i can't have that happen to her."

"do you want me to ask bella to do some recon or something? because you're only going to be hurting yourself by keeping this a secret."

"whatever, man. do what you gotta do." quinn grabbed his tray and walked over to the table.

an hour later, brock and bella were saying goodbye and driving away. quinn helped buckle a sleeping abby into her seat before he opened the door for y/n. the drive home was quiet. neither of them wanted to speak. their separate conversations with their friends were repeating.

by the time they made it home and y/n put abby to bed, they were both exhausted.

"hey, i know you wanted to talk when we got home. but i'm tired. is there any chance we could wait until tomorrow? i have the day off again."

"yeah. sure." quinn smiled and watched y/n retreat into her room.

the conversation would have to wait.

----------

tags: @alwaysclassyeagle @justagingerliving @marroonwitch @hwalllllllelujah @lovelyhishier

[zepskies]

Hey, lovely Liane!! I know you've read Smoke Eater, so you know I love me some firefighter!Dean. 😏 Plus-sized!reader is also so close to my heart right from the get-go, so I was very happy to fulfill this Patreon request!

Ooh yes, we dove right into the "action." 😏❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

I know Dean likes his hands full. 🔥

Hell fucking yeah, and I love how you phrased that 😂💓💓

I already love the cast. I know Lisa isn't the most popular within the fandom, but I truly loved her in Supernatural and I'm always excited to see her included in fanfics. Quite an underrated character with lots of potential, so I'm excited to see where you'll take it with her! It makes total sense for her to be a little mean in this one, honestly, I'd also be on edge if I were in her shoes, girl, lol.

Omg me too!! I cried so hard when the writers broke Lisa and Dean up the way they did, first like a stab wound, then ripping it open again (I wanted him to keep his little newfound family so bad that I even resented Sam for a time, despite him not having his soul 😭). But Lisa is notably different in this fic -- you probably saw my AN as to why.

Lisa being some type of way toward the reader was actually part of the request, but I also thought she might act this way due to the awkward and almost impossible situation Dean's put her in. The fact that she stays with him says a lot about her tbh. Whether she truly loves Dean or just doesn't want to let go, I'll let you guys figure that out in Part 2. 😉

And not Sam scolding Dean, haha! I don't know why but that part made me chuckle. Always funny to see the younger siblings be more responsible.

lmfaooo that felt on-brand for Sam honestly. 😂😂 Especially because in this fic reader is Sam's best friend, and he feels protective toward her feelings. And he's def the more stable one, while Dean is a bit of a mess, let's be honest. 🤣 His lifestyle is catching up with him!

Thanks so much for your thought on Part 1, friend!! I hope you enjoy Part 2 when it drops here next week.~

IF I STAY - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Yes, here’s another firefighter AU! Based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @redhoodieone. She requested pretty much all the major beats of this story, so hopefully I did her request justice! This is also partially inspired by Fools Rush In, a beautiful movie with Salma Hayek and Matthew Perry (Rest in Peace, King).

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Word Count: 8.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, and hurt/comfort.

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 1: Fools Rush In

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. Your gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

It starts at Sam Winchester’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a nice hotel downtown. He and Eileen aren't the "strippers and coke" kind of party couple. They're more the "wine and brie en croute with pickled olives" on the expensive crackers you can't afford—kind of couple.

They look perfectly in love, if a bit long-suffering while Dean gives a hilarious, somewhat inappropriate, but still ultimately heartwarming toast to their happiness. After lowering the glass of champagne from his lips, his gaze catches on yours in the crowd. You suck in a subtle breath. 

Technically you’ve met him already, being one of Eileen’s bridesmaids, but there’s something about his green eyes that pin you to the floor. When he hands over the mic to Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, his head turning away from you to offer her a smile breaks the spell. It allows you to breathe.

Dean later finds you by the bar. You’re drinking a rum and coke with your slice of cake, trying not to get a single crumb on your dress. You've put a lot of work into affording it, let alone fitting in it. He leans his elbows casually on the counter and looks over at you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he nods at you with a smile, subtly taking you in first. Then, his eyes go to your plate. “Ooh, red velvet. Gotta get me some of that.”

You smile back at him. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, looks good in your hand,” he says, adding a teasing wink for good measure.

You don't know why that does it for you, but a half-flattered, half-nervous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Sam has warned you before about Dean. Apparently his older brother is a bit of a flirt; a ladies’ man.

A man whore, are the words Eileen used.

You’re honestly surprised he’s talking to you when Eileen’s other bridesmaids, Lisa and Jo, are sipping martinis together down at the other end of the bar. Guess they didn’t want cake.

They look beautiful in their lithe, strapless little cocktail dresses. You’ve had to give up chocolate, bread, and cheese for three months straight to fit into this dress, something slinky and red that drapes over your thicker, curvy figure. But you’re proud of the fact that you’re letting yourself eat cake tonight, even though you’ve often felt like Mrs. Doubtfire while standing for pictures next to Lisa and Jo.

They’re Eileen’s friends, not so much your crowd. No matter how much you’ve tried to get to know them while helping the wedding planning in whatever way you can, you still get a high school clique vibe from the women, if with more “polite smiles.” Then they’ll typically go back to talking about crystal centerpieces—or whatever in-depth conversation they were having before you were there. 

But right now, Dean’s focus is on you. When he asks you more about yourself, you tell him about recently earning an elementary education degree.

“Ah, but you already knew that, because Sam told you we graduated college together,” you realize, with warmth tingeing your cheeks. That subject came up pretty quickly when he introduced you to his brother.

Dean’s smile confirms your suspicions, so you just keep filling the silence on reflex.

“Well, I actually just started teaching my first ever semester of second graders. They’re a bit of a handful, but overall, they’re really sweet.” Your smile falters. “Except for this one kid who likes to put little tacks on my chair. He’s kind of a menace, but I think if I bribe him with enough lollipops, he’ll give it a rest. I mean, it’s a behavioral issue and I should probably call his parents. But it's kind of hard to tell them their son is trying to make my ass into a pincushion."

Dean's laugh comes out in a sharp burst, like he wasn't expecting what just came out of your mouth. You didn't either, honestly. You giggle more out of embarrassment, ducking your head.

"He’s in second grade, you know?" you say, in between laughter. "I don't think that little footnote needs to end up on his permanent record. But then there's Micah. He's so friggin' smart. He can read at the fifth grade level already. Can you believe that? And I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but his grades on his spelling tests get him a spot in the comfy bean bag chair pretty much every Friday. Honestly, I think that's what I like about working with kids. I get to see that spark on their face when something just finally clicks for them. Their little faces get all bright and happy and…ugh. God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling, right?”

You stop yourself with a hand sliding over your mouth, not quite covering your smile of embarrassment.

Dean’s grin just widens, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"It's okay. I kinda like it," he teases.

You duck your head, biting your lip against a groan. He chuckles and reaches out for your hand, earning your nervous glance. He quirks his head.

“Hey, you're passionate about what you do, helping kids. That's nothin' to be ashamed of,” he says, brushing his thumb over your hand. “But sweetheart, I gotta ask. Am I making you nervous or something?”

God, yes, you think, especially at that sweetheart thing. It’s making your heartbeat tick up a syncopated rhythm, but you shake your head, biting the straw of your rum and coke.

“No, not at all,” you say, in a hopefully “breezy” kind of way. You touch your fingers to his wrist. “Tell me about you though. Sam mentioned that you’re a firefighter?”

“Ah, yeah. Firefighter in training,” he says, with a more genuine smile.

He just started at the Fire Academy, and he tells you about all the drills he’s had to learn and all the training he’s had to do to be able to keep up with his classes. You subtly eye him while you sip at your drink, and you notice the crisp cut of his buttoned-down shirt and leather jacket, the definition of muscle across his thighs under the slacks, even while he casually sits.

Your gaze subtly travels down his long bowed legs, smart dress shoes. His cologne is woody and masculine, but not overpowering; maybe bergemot and sandalwood. It pleasantly wafts under your nose every time he gestures with his hands while he talks.

“Aw man, I can’t hold out anymore. I think I need to get me some of that cake before it’s gone,” he says, getting up from his chair.

You’re a bit disappointed that he��s leaving, until he stops short.

“You want another piece?” he offers, gesturing at your empty plate that’s been resting on the counter.

You blink in surprise, but you shake your head. “Oh, no. I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a party,” Dean reasons. His grin is too damn infectious. It has you smiling, and begrudgingly agreeing.

Not only does he bring you more cake, but you watch him eat three whole slices before he asks you to dance.

The rest of it flashes through your mind like strobe lights—the way he’d started small and respectful with his larger hand closed over yours and the other along the curve of your waist. He guided you closer and closer, until you were turned around into his arms, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You felt his lips teasing your skin. Then those hands tantalizingly drifted down your every soft curve, as if showing you a preview of everything he could do to you, and every way he’d make you come apart. You believed him.

And when he whispered in your ear, asking if he could take you home, you let him.

You let him drive you in that big black piece of history he drives. Used to be my dad’s car, he said. A Chevy something. You couldn’t really remember much when his hand was drifting up and down your thigh like that.

His presence burned hot at your back when you two eventually got to the front door of your apartment, your hands just barely shaking as you got the key in. Twist and click—

He waited until you flipped the lights on. Then he turned you around slowly in his arms and pulled you in close, all the while asking you with his eyes and raised brows. This okay? You want this?

“Do I still make you nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching at a smile when yours do.

You nodded, uttering a small giggle. “In a good way.”

That was when he finally kissed you, hot and slow, like he meant to devour you whole. He moaned at the taste of you, at the feel of your ass squeezed in his hands. You clung onto him strong, breathing into his kiss and trying to meet every single demand of his lips.

It soon became a fiery tear to your bedroom, one lamp flicked on, hot breaths and nice clothes crumpled to the floor. You didn’t feel self-conscious even once when he guided you under him on the bed, because he wasted no time in taking you apart, inch by inch.

His lips kissed and licked and sucked a burning trail down your neck, over your collarbone and between your breasts. You felt his hardened length trapped between your bodies while his hands explored you, teasing your breasts and sensitive nipples, and he mapped his way down with his lips.

You explored every part of him you could—every dip of muscle, firm shoulders and the slopes of his back, and then back up to tangle in his hair. Your heated gasps and whimpers filled the room when his sinful mouth found what it was looking for between your legs.

It wasn’t often that you had a strong pair of shoulders to rest your thighs on, but Dean’s grip was hard enough to leave deep fingerprints of pressure on each thigh while he slipped his tongue through your folds and feasted on you.

“D-Dean, oh God,” you gasped. Every sound you made was a sensuous symphony in his ears, washing over his skin and making the well of his desire churn hot in his lower belly. He had to roll his hips into the mattress for some relief for his aching cock, even while he moved his mouth up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with his tongue. He had enough room to slip two fingers deep inside your sopping wet channel, exploring you deeply, stroking and twisting to find what you needed.

Your thighs trembled and squeezed tight on either side of his head. When he sucked your clit tight between his lips, you uttered as gasping moan as that coil snapped its release. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers. Yours clenched tightly in his hair, threatening to rip out a few strands.

Dean stroked you all through your first orgasm, giving slower licks to your clit. He seemed to sense when you couldn’t handle anymore though. You tugged more sharply on his hair, and he finally pulled away, moving back up your body to gauge your reaction.

You’d collapsed boneless against the bed, but you still managed to smile up at him as you caught your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. But his self-satisfied grin almost made you laugh. You took his glistening face between your hands and pulled him down for a grateful kiss.

After a moment to savor your lips, he broke away for a second to catch his breath himself. You stroked his back all the while.

“You know, for a minute down there, I thought you might not let me come back up,” he teased.

You choked on a laugh, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Honestly wouldn’t have minded if you did suffocate me,” he chuckled, accompanied by a slap to your left ass cheek. You squealed, and blushed hotly at the way he was grinning down at you.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

But you shook your head and sat up, slipping a hand behind Dean’s neck. After a beat of hesitation, you guided him down to you for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“No, I don’t want to call it a night,” you whispered. Your hand drifted down his bare chest, and lower still. You showed him just how well you could return the favor.

And now, come the morning, you’re blushing down to your neck as each scene flashes through your mind. You feel the ghost of his hands all over your body, and how you’d never quite felt quite as bold and sexy and beautiful with a near stranger as you had with Dean effing Winchester. Your best friend’s brother.

You begin to worry your bottom lip with your teeth. How the hell are you going to tell Sam? Especially after he warned you about exactly this. Plus, there’s a reason you don’t typically do the one-night stand thing, and this has the potential to become something very complicated.

You know what, it’s fine! you think. We’re two consenting adults. We’re both single. And maybe…maybe it could be more than a hookup. Maybe we can see each other again, see where it goes.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Dean says, his voice croaking with sleep.

You look down at him in surprise. His eyes have cracked open and he has your hand captive, stopping you from continuing to idly trace patterns on his bare chest. You smile in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say. Again, you bite your lower lip. “Um, good morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” he grins lazily. “You sure wore me out last night.”

Your smile becomes more genuine, even if you turn your face away somewhat shyly.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Dean says. He slides his hand up your arm and behind your neck, tangling into your already tangled hair when he guides you down to his lips for a kiss. “You were awesome.”

You giggle against his lips. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, kissing you again.

You shake your head a little. “You were…”

Amazing. Unbelievable. Probably the best night I’ve ever had.

“Perfect,” you decide. Because it’s the truth. The word comes out of your mouth before you can filter yourself though, making you pause. Dean does too, but after a beat, he slowly smiles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

You lick your lips, and you nod. “Definitely.”

“Well, then,” he says. His hand moves down to squeeze your hip. “You down for a repeat performance?”

You smile. “Only if I get a turn.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slide your thigh across his lap so you can straddle his hips. Dean grins and goes along with your idea. He gets a nice healthy handful of your thighs and helps settle you on top of him. But first, he reaches over into your nightstand drawer and finds another condom, ripping it open with his teeth.

Just like you did for him last night, you take the packet, as well as his generous length in your hands. You gently stroke him to full mast, smiling pleased at his groan of pleasure. Then you carefully fit the condom over him.

“You’re so gentle with me,” he teases. 

“Just returning the favor,” you quip, just before you position him at your wet entrance. Slowly, you sink down over his cock.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you again, warm and thick and fitting perfectly nestled deep inside. There had been moments last night where he wasn’t all that gentle, actually, but his passion had only spurred yours on more. You know you’ll probably find fingerprint marks on your thighs and ass, but it’s fucking worth it, you think, as you begin to bob a rocking rhythm that serves you both.

Dean arches his back underneath you, his knees coming up to press against your ass.

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin.

You utter a breathy laugh.

Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him. He guides you by the stronghold he has on your hips, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he ruts up into you, meeting your thrusts.

Your breath quickens, your nails digging into his chest on reflex, and your heart races as that delicious pleasure builds. But when Dean snakes a hand between you and further parts your folds to massage tight circles over your clit, your vision flashes white. You utter a scream of pleasure on his name, your inner walls choking him tight as you throb around his cock. His release hits him like a goddamn freight train.

“Aw, fuck,” he grunts.

He slams your hips down hard, making your thighs slap against his. A ragged groan escapes him in a rush. His hands move to your thighs just under your ass, where his fingers press into flesh hard enough to leave forensic ID, giving him leverage to bury himself deep into your pussy as he spills a hot release into the condom.

Goddamn…

He can almost imagine that he’s coming free inside you, that you’re milking his cock for every drop, until there’s nothing left for him to give.

The thought surprises him. It almost takes him out of the moment, honestly. That’s not a thought he’s ever had before—not with a woman he barely knows (which is most of his hookups, if he’s honest).

In that delicious, fractious moment just after it hits, it’s like those few seconds are suspended in zero gravity. Your arms are shaking, and your forced to collapse against his chest. Dean welcomes you there for a little while, letting you come down while he smooths a hand over your hair.

Though he can't help the urge to let his big hand drift down over your dewy skin, down the gentle slope of your back and over the curve of your generous ass. He gives one cheek a teasing slap. The sound echoes in the room.

"Goddamn perfect ass," he says roughly, smirking at your squeal. You end up grinning hard against his neck.

"'S that my new nickname?" you quip.

He chuckles deeply, moving you along with his chest. "Hell, sweetheart, if you want it to be."

Eventually, you lean back to give him a smile and one last kiss before you pull away from him. You slip off his lap to find your robe, at least. You definitely need a shower.

“So I’m thinking, after we get cleaned up, I could make us some breakfast,” you offer. “Or if you want, maybe we could go somewhere. I know a little diner down the block.”

“I like the sound of food,” Dean agrees with a smile. Ge reaches over for his phone on the nightstand, to check the time. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He has to get his ass over to the Fire Academy. He has class in barely twenty minutes.

He tears out of bed and nearly trips on the coiled sheets.

“Sorry. Gonna need to take a raincheck,” he says. He hurries to find his clothes strewn all over your bedside floor.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with wide eyes. You cross your arms under your breasts, but it’s more like you’re hugging yourself over your robe. You watch him tear through your bedroom in a tempest of movement.

Dean spares you a glance, but not much else as he yanks up his slacks and belt and dress shirt.

“Gotta get to class,” he confesses. Thank God he has his uniform in the trunk of his car for exactly these kinds of emergencies. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, and quickly kisses you on the cheek. He gazes down at you apologetically. “Sorry I gotta cut and run, sweetheart, but it’s been fun.”

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices.

He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.”

He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin.

“Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay go, Mr. Future Fireman. Be safe out there, okay?”

He gives you a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t help but laugh. This guy’s too much. But you don't think you've had this much fun having sex in...

All right, let's not put a timeframe on it.

You watch him leave your apartment, even though you have a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew this was just a hookup for him, for both of you. Part of you just couldn’t help hoping that it could’ve led to something more. 

Dean means to call you.

He really does.

After that truly awesome, you shook me all night long, kind of a night, he thinks about you more than he’d like to admit over the next few weeks. However, he finds himself locked into his training. He’s so close to finishing strong and earning his badge, he just can’t afford any more distractions.

Still, he should’ve known that Sam would find out—either through Eileen, or through you directly. He also should’ve expected the way his brother let him have it.

“And you didn’t even fucking call her. See? This is why I don’t set you up with any of my friends anymore,” Sam bitches at him from his side of the small two-seater dinner table. They still share an apartment, though in just a month and a half, Sam’s going to be moving out. He and Eileen already found a house that they’re moving into after the wedding.

“Look, I was going to call her, man. They’ve just been bustin’ my ass at the Academy!” Dean argues.

“Bullshit.” Sam levels him with the same finger that holds his beer.

Dean’s brows raise, high and annoyed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Because if you really liked her, respected her, and respected me, you would’ve made the time,” Sam says.

That falls heavy between the brothers for a moment while they eat their pizza.

“Look, I know her. She doesn’t do hookups that often, which means…she probably liked you,” Sam adds. “And honestly, when are you going to give it a real try with someone? You can only visit that free clinic so many times.”

Dean shoots him a glare. He’s had a clean bill of health from said clinic for six months straight.

“Jesus Christ. Enough, all right?” he grouses. “What’re you, Mom?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, lowering his crust to the plate. He levels his brother with a more earnest look, lightening up from his anger. “Look, if it’s about what happened to Dad—”

“What, you mean the way he drank himself to death after Mom died?” Dean says. His voice cuts through whatever softball glove Sam is trying to handle him with. “You think that’s the kind of thing I should be looking for in my life?”

“Oh, and what, do you think I’m making a mistake marrying Eileen?” Sam counters.

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe that kind of life—the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids and the dog. Maybe that’s just not my life, okay?”

Sam gives him a long look. He lets go of a deep breath, and he shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “If you think hooking up night after night for the rest of your life is going to make you happy, then fine.”

Dean nods, glad that they can put an end to this little After School Special.

“Okay.”

Still, he can’t finish his third slice of pizza. He keeps picturing your face when he left you that morning. No matter how you tried to hide it, he still saw the tinge of disappointment in your eyes. It brews something uncomfortable in his stomach, and a sting in his chest.

You’re eating lunch alone in your classroom, finally on your break, when an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen. You look down at it in confusion, but with all the caterers and florists and things you’ve helped Eileen with on the wedding, you figure it could be important. You pick up the call and greet whoever’s on the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

You drop your ham and cheese on your keyboard, gaping in surprise.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he chuckles slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s been a minute.”

You frown, because you’re confused more than anything.

“Yeah, like almost a month,” you reply. You put the call on speaker so you can grab up your sandwich and quickly brush off the crumbs from your keyboard. You struggle to say something cool, clever, sexy even. “I’m okay. Just, um…what’s up?”

Smooth, real smooth. You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Nothin’, I was just thinking of that night,” he says. “I had a good time.”

Your frown deepens, despite the beginning of a blush warming your cheeks. If he’s calling you just for another hookup…

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.”

And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

“I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

That part throws you though, you’re not going to lie. What, is this a Netflix and chill situation—with a side of fries?

You consider it. You weigh pros and cons at a frightening speed in your mind, almost like Sherlock Holmes contemplating the layout of a dead body and deducing within moments that his wife committed the murder, despite the man no longer wearing a ring.

You want to let yourself be bold and spontaneous and carefree...but it's just not who you are at your core. You're a planner, a cautious person who looks three ways before crossing the street. Letting Dean take you home that night was certainly one of the most spontaneous, wild things you've done since your friends took you out to a strip club after you aced your final round of exams back in college.

(Sam hadn't been there that night, but he did get an embarrassing drunken text from you at 3:00 a.m., along with a few shame-ridden pictures fueled by questionable substances. Yes, he still had the evidence.)

You just don't know if it's smart to let yourself hookup with Dean again. Mostly because you know your heart has the tendency to get attached, no matter how much you warn it not to.

“You know, Dean, I’m pretty busy with my job right now. I just started here a couple of months ago, and I think I just need to focus on that right now,” you say. Part of it isn’t a lie, even though your soft heart is stinging.

“Ah, okay. Yeah. I get that,” he says. You hear his disappointment too. “But I just need to say, I really am sorry for not calling you sooner.”

Your lips tug at a smile. “It’s okay, Dean. Look, you’re Sam’s brother. I just feel like, maybe it’s better if you and I stay friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have three rounds of steamy hot sex with any of my friends.”

Your blush comes swiftly again, burning in your cheeks.

“Be that as it may,” you say, “I just don’t want to do anything that will distract from Sam and Eileen’s wedding.”

“Oh, I’m a distraction, huh?” Dean says flirtatiously. 

You begin to smile in earnest. “I think you know damn well what you are, Dean Winchester.”

His deep chuckle practically resonates through the phone and into your chest, going straight down to your pussy. You clench on nothing just at the sound of his voice, making you cross your legs under your skirt. Dear God…

How are you supposed to be even remotely normal around this man now? 

But for Sam’s sake (and your own), you’ll have to try. 

Two months later, Dean has taken Sam’s dating advice to heart. A week or so after you turned him down, he ran into Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, while he was at the grocery store buying beer and Twizzlers. She was a smart, sharp, sexy brunette. A yoga instructor, he soon found out. So he took a chance on asking her out. They’ve been going slow and steady ever since. 

Dean hasn’t heard from you since the rehearsal dinner, but he sees you again at his brother’s wedding. All the bridesmaids are wearing long, royal blue dresses that drape off the shoulders and hug the bust and waist, flaring gently at the skirt. Lisa and Jo wear it beautifully, their hair perfectly smooth and coiled. 

But when you step out into the hall outside the church ballroom to join them, Dean actually pauses in what he’s saying to his brother. He nearly double takes when you enter his line of vision—mostly because he hasn’t seen you in a dress since that night. You were sexy as hell then, a lady in red. 

Today, you’re absolutely stunning. 

After greeting Sam with a warm hug, you turn to him with a nervous kind of smile. “H-Hey, Dean.”

With that, he snaps out of it. Dean smiles, eyes crinkling, and goes over to give you a hug as well.

“Good to see you,” he says, trying not to inhale too much of your nice perfume. It’s even in your hair.

“You too,” you reply. Your smile is a little brighter, more genuine. Though there’s something behind your eyes that he can’t quite place.

What he doesn’t notice is the way Lisa is watching you and her boyfriend, a hint of suspicion on her face.

You do though. You pull away from Dean and assemble into a line with Lisa at the helm. As the Best Man, Dean stands with her, followed by Jo and Brady, another one of Sam’s buddies. You and Benny bring up the rear. Benny’s dad used to work with John, Sam and Dean’s father, on the police force.

According to Sam, John Winchester worked a beat for twenty-six years before his liver finally gave out on him. Dean almost went to the Police Academy to follow in his dad’s footsteps, but Benny, already working his way up to Lieutenant, suggested Dean become a smoke eater instead. The suggestion stuck.

Benny Lafitte is slightly shorter than Dean, but just as broad-shouldered, his auburn beard neatly trimmed. Even though you might’ve thought he was rough around the edges at first, his kind blue eyes spoke the contrary. He offers you his arm like a gentleman.

“Well aren't I lucky, getting the prettiest girl on my arm,” he says, with a charming smile.

You smile, and even begin to blush at the way he subtly takes note of you from head to toe.

“Well, thank you. You’re very handsome yourself. Although, hold on.” You slip your arm out of his for a moment so that you can fix his tie. It’s slightly crooked. You make sure that it lays flat under his collar, smoothing down all the edges and picking off any small dust particles that landed on his collar. Benny watches you with an indulgent smile.

“Am I good?” he asks.

“Very,” you reply.

“I appreciate it, thank you,” he says. You don’t know if he means to sound flirtatious, but his voice is a deep drawl that washes over you pleasantly. You find yourself blushing down to your neck as you slip your arm back around his.

You also don’t notice how Dean glances at you and Benny over his shoulder.

As much as you love Sam and Eileen, it’s difficult for you to keep your mind from spinning into fractals as the ceremony goes on. You can’t help but glance at Dean. He stands there behind Sam dutifully, but you see brotherly pride in Dean’s eyes, in his smile. It makes you smile too. You too love Sam like a brother, and it brings a well of happy tears to your eyes to watch him have his moment with his new wife.

It just also reminds you of what you need to do.

After the ceremony ends and the bridal party files out behind the bride and groom, you excuse yourself from Benny apologetically. You wait until Lisa and Jo go off to take pictures with Sam and Eileen, and you grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him aside.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper.

Dean gives you a confused look. “They’re gonna need us for the pictures.”

“I know, but this is important,” you say. Your voice trembles with nerves, and so do your hands. Dean notices, frowning in concern. He grasps your arm to try and steady you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just come with me,” you implore him. You take his hand and lead him into the women’s dressing room attached to the church sanctuary you all just came out of.

Dean raises his brows at the mess you and the rest of the bridesmaids have made of the room—pantyhose and makeup and clothing litter the floor and most available surfaces, while leftover breakfast sandwiches, grapes, salami, and cheddar cheese cubes are splayed out across one of the vanity counters. Dean is tempted to steal a morsel, but he focuses on you first.

You close and lock the door, which makes his brows raise high again. You know he has a girlfriend now, right?

“Uhh, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but—”

You heave a sigh. Again, you take his hand and guide him to sit with you at the vanity. The old stools squeak, the overhead lights a bit too bright. This is not where you want to do this, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I’m pregnant,” you confess.

He freezes. His breath stills in his lungs. His eyes slowly widen as the words click in his brain.

“What?” His head tilts, as if he didn’t hear you right.

You squeeze his hand; to ground him or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I’m about two months pregnant. I found out last week.”

Dean swipes his free hand over his mouth while he tries to compute. He squeezes your hand, tighter and tighter. He points to himself.

“It’s…it’s me? It’s mine?”

You give him a weary smile. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in the last few months. It could only be you.”

Oh fuck. The man’s face begins to pale as he descends into shock.

“But we…I used a condom,” he reasons. “All the—all the times!”

You bite your lip. If you weren’t freaking the fuck out yourself, you’d probably be laughing right now. Granted, you’ve had a bit more time to process this than Dean.

“I know, I was there,” you reply, releasing yet another sigh. “One of them probably broke. That’s all I can think of… Honestly, Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want to disrupt the ceremony or cause a scene before the wedding. But now you know.”

Dean falls silent then. He hasn’t let go of your hand, which you think is a decent sign. He’s likely forgotten that you’re still holding it as he stares off into the middle distance for several seconds.

Eventually, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to yours. He looks uncertain, his handsome face the true epitome of holy fucking shit.

You know the feeling.

But he asks the most important question.

“What do you want to do?”

Briefly you close your eyes as you take a breath. You squeeze his hand before you let go of him.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and…I’m keeping the baby,” you tell him, though you raise placating hands. “I don’t want money, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know that it’s yours. How much you want to be in his or—or her life, that’s up to you.”

Dean takes a beat before he answers, but you don’t have to wait so long holding your breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll help you. Don’t worry,” he says.

And just like that, all the time you spent giving yourself pep talks for this, telling yourself that you’ll need to be strong no matter what he says, all of it crumbles into relief. Your lower lip trembles, and your body shudders as you break into tears. You try covering your face to hide your shame, but Dean grasps your shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s all right,” he says. He tentatively pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nod into his dress shirt, probably staining him with your running makeup.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a bit tighter in response.

You and Dean agree to keep this to yourselves for now, at least until Sam and Eileen get back from their honeymoon. It’s difficult to explain why your eyes are all red and your makeup is smudged, but you promise Sam that you’ll tell him later. You know it’s pointless to lie to him though. As a lawyer, his bullshit meter is far too high.

However, you also know that he’s half guessed it by the time you all make it to the reception. When you and Dean came out of that dressing room to join the bridal party for pictures, you're sure that you looked emotionally wrecked. Dean had looked pale as a sheet, his body coiled and tense, as willing himself to seem normal. Sam had clocked both of you with a raise of his brow, but he didn't say anything then, especially after you gave him a pleading look.

While Eileen greets her family without him for a moment, Sam pulls you aside. He notes your glass of diet coke, in a moderate sea of guests drinking champagne and cocktails.

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly.

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don’t know if it’s your damn hormones going haywire, or just the way Sam asks you, with the love of a friend in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder gently, prompting you with your name.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” you say.

"Is it the same reason you're not drinking?" he asks. "You and Dean earlier..."

You hesitantly confirm with a nod. Sam blows out a harsh sigh, raising folded hands to his mouth as he processes. You begin to look around on reflex, trying to see if anyone's watching you and Sam have this conversation in the middle of the reception. To your relief, everyone around you seems occupied with drinks, hours d'oeuvres and conversation.

“What did he say when you told him?” Sam asks. His gaze is firmer. You get the idea that if he doesn’t like what you tell him, then he’s about to go grab his brother by the ear himself.

You grab his wrist and give a placating squeeze. “He said he's going to help me, be there for me.”

“Damn right. So will I,” Sam nods, and glances back at Eileen, his new bride, with a smile. “We both will.”

“I know,” you nod as well. “I’ll be okay, Sam. You don’t have to worry so much. Just enjoy your wedding day. It’s the only one you’re gonna get. Well, you know…hopefully.”

You tease him with a wink.

Sam laughs, cupping your cheek. He kisses your other cheek.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says.

You give him a trembling smile through your tears.

Meanwhile, Dean has a beautiful woman in his arms. He turns Lisa on the dancefloor, trying not to trip on his own dress shoes, all the while knowing that his brain isn’t here in his body. It’s across the ballroom, watching you talk to Sam. Dean can tell that he knows, just in his Big Bird body language. He’d also recognize that accompanying Bitch Face anywhere.

“Dean, what’s wrong,” Lisa asks him, and not for the first time. She’s getting annoyed, he can tell. She finally looks over to where he keeps glancing, and she notices you with a frown. It’s also not the first time she’s caught him staring at you tonight.

“What was that earlier in the dressing room? She didn’t really get food poisoning, did she?” she asks pointedly. “What, did you two used to date or something?”

He gives a wan smile. “Yeah, kinda. We…had a thing once.”

“What kind of thing?”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to keep himself calm. He’s pretty sure if he tells her the truth right now, she’s going to find the nearest cocktail and dump it over his head.

But shit, here it goes.

“Well…”

After a long day at school, you drive over to Dean’s apartment. You’d agreed to meet there and wait for him to get off his shift at Firehouse 83, where he just started as a full-fledged firefighter on probation. When he gets home, he’s supposed to go with you to an important appointment with your OB-GYN. 

You were hoping he’d already be done with work by the time you got to his place, but Lisa's there to open the door for you. Apparently, he’d already given her a key.

Moving kind of fast, but okay, you think. A second later, you could’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. Pot, kettle, me. Got it.

Lisa greets you with a “polite” smile at best, but she does offer you water at least. You really can’t blame her for not liking you though. She found out her boyfriend got another woman pregnant right before he started dating her. Really, she has more balls than you for staying with him. You wouldn't put it past Dean to somehow have smooth-talked her into giving him a chance.

Or she really loves him. The thought sobers you as you lower yourself down to the couch beside her. Both of you sit there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out something to talk about.

“So, you’re what, six months pregnant?” she asks.

You correct her in thinly veiled annoyance. “Three months, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I thought it was six.”

You have a feeling her awkward chuckle is fake, however. She knew good and damn well that you’re not six months pregnant. In her eyes, you must be the size of a parade float. 

“If you want, I can recommend a holistic diet to help you get your body back after the baby’s born,” Lisa offers. “No pills, no chemicals. Just good clean weight loss.”

You feign interest. Honestly, you’d like her to cram that offer right up her hooch.

“I can even give you a discount if you want to try out yoga,” she says. “It’s low impact, but you burn plenty of calories. I have a beginner’s class, not too strenuous. Even my least flexible clients manage to do the poses.”

Is that why Dean likes you? Because you’re bendy? Bet if I sat on you, you’d pop like a fucking balloon.

You hide all of these thoughts behind a “polite” smile of your own.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you reply. It’s non-committal enough, but hopefully it’ll get her off your back.

No such luck.

“You know, maintaining a healthy diet is really important for the baby’s health too,” Lisa adds. “It’s not just about avoided raw fish and dairy products. Oh, and processed food is obviously a no-go. Like, I’m sure you haven’t been hitting Taco Bell and all that stuff, right?”

As a matter of fact, you’ve been eating clean since long before you got pregnant. Not that it’s any business of hers whether you enjoy the occasional quesadilla or not.

Your temper snaps at its leash. You open your mouth to reply, when the front door unlocks and opens to Dean, stepping in through the threshold.

Thank God, you and Lisa both think. She gets up quicker from the couch than you, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. You avert your gaze while you begin to get up yourself.

Dean reaches out to help you, grasping your arm in support. You shoot him a smile.

“I can still get up by myself,” you snip.

“Yeah, all right. Just in case,” he says with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s rock and roll,” you say, trying to hide your worsening mood. You’re exhausted, and irritated, and probably more than a little hangry. Except now, the idea of food just has you feeling guilty for even being hungry.

“Bye, hun. Hope you have a good appointment,” Lisa says, giving your shoulder a pat. You give her the most genuine smile you can muster as you thank her. It's possibly that she's one of those women who don't realize when they're being cunty, but you find it highly unlikely. She's too smart for that.

You follow Dean out the door and over to his car, big and black and sleek as you remember. You settle into the passenger seat with your arms crossed in silence. Dean switches the cassette to one of his favorite Led Zeppelin albums, though he notices your grumpy face.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

You give him some side-eye, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You just shake your head. As irritated as you are, you don’t want to be the friend who badmouths his girlfriend.

God, are we even friends? You wonder. Or am I just his knocked-up baby momma?

And again, you realize that this whole situation is probably hard for Lisa. You just don’t know if she’s jealous, or if she just…doesn’t like you.

“I’m okay,” you tell Dean.

He raises a skeptical brow. Looks like Sam isn’t the only one with a finely tuned bullshit meter.

“All right, how about this,” Dean says. “Let’s grab some burgers after this, huh? From your favorite spot. Shake Shack, right? Side of fries, frozen yogurt. I think I’ll get chocolate this time… Hmm, I doubt Lisa will want anything. She’s gone on an all-vegan kick or something.”

For one shining moment, you were happy and touched at his consideration. But now your body stills in your seat when you remember Lisa’s words. Tears well up in your eyes with a hot sting, and a sob escapes your throat.

Dean is cut off from thinking about getting extra bacon on his burger. He looks over at you in alarm. “H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

You scoff at him through your tears. “Are you kidding me? I can’t eat burgers anymore, Dean. I was already fucking fat. Now it’s just gonna get ridiculous.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, along with his deepening frown. It gets worse as he tries to watch the road ahead, while at the same time, watching you continue to crumble.

“And after the birth, I’m just going to be an even fatter slob who can’t take care of her baby,” you sniffle and weep, trying in vain to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself.

Dean grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. Fuck it.

He turns the steering wheel sharp enough to startle a gasp out of you.

“Dean!”

He pulls the car over onto the side of the road, ignoring the honking SUV behind him. He shifts into Park and shuts off the radio—a big red flag, in your opinion. He’s upset too, and fucking serious, more so than you’ve ever seen him. You stare back at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve never once heard you say that you’re fat,” he says.

You blink at that, but eventually, you’re able to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth. You wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks. Your face is already hot from your upset, now tinged with embarrassment.

“You haven’t known me very long,” you say quietly.

It doesn’t help. Dean’s jaw ticks again.

“Well, I’ve never thought it. Not even once,” he says. His jade green eyes are firmly set on yours, and he gestures between you and him with a pointed finger. “The reason you and I are here right now, is because the minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

One corner of his lips kicks upwards. “And that night, you didn’t disappoint.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. You don’t know how to respond, but you do know that a full blush is warming your face and neck. His words have power, and unbidden, they bloom a similar warmth between your legs. You swallow a bit nervously as you bite your bottom lip.

Dean glances down at your mouth when you do. He can remember what your pretty mouth did for him that night. Oh, he remembers all too well. He even had the shade of your lipstick streaked across his skin until he showered up at the firehouse.

He locks that all away when shifts the car back into Drive. If you’re going to make it to this appointment on time, he needs to get going.

And you both have to leave whatever that was right here by the side of the road.

AN: Woo! 😮‍💨 Yep, this is only Part 1, friends. Lisa is a bit different in this. My take was that without Ben in her life, she might be less mature and a bit more catty. As we get into Part 2 I'll leave it up to you to decide why she decides to stay with Dean, and perhaps more importantly, where the reader and Dean can go from here as co-parents. 🤔

If you enjoyed Part 1, please let me know!~

Next Time in Part 2:

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look, I…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours, and achingly familiar.

⋆˙⟡ Read Part 2 on Patreon now!

⋆˙⟡ Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 3/23

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[lockpickingliar]

Kokichi would have thrived in the SDR2 class, actually.

Like, I dunno. I just feel like they would have been much more willing to work with him rather than fight against him like the V3 cast constantly does. In particular, one of the things that makes a notable difference between 77B and V3 is this:

Flexibility for Individuality and Willingness to Address Other Points of View

Class 77B are all much more understanding of one another's neuroses and make room for each other in a way that the V3 cast just doesn't. They communicate a lot more in a way that makes everyone feel included, and everyone has room to voice their concerns and have them taken seriously. V3 by contrast is almost always arguing in a way where everyone is fighting to be heard, but no one is actually listening.

Mahiru voices her complaint over Twogami appointing himself as leader, and discussion follows to why exactly Twogami would be the best fit for the position anyway, assuaging her concerns. There are misunderstandings between them, like with the intentions behind Hiyoko's shrine being misconstrued as malicious due to her poor taste, but those feelings and intentions are discussed and everyone comes around fairly quickly. Fuyuhiko throws his weight around a lot in the beginning as a the Ultimate Yakuza, and even threatens to kill, but everyone at the very least recognizes this as posturing and leaves him alone until he's able to come around. The only genuine threat is Nagito, who takes clear and focused action to cause harm in chapter 1, and even then he is simply tied up for a single chapter. He's still taken care of and acknowledged as a member of the group by others in the class, and when he falls ill to the Despair Disease, he is given extra care due to his weak constitution.

In that sense, I feel like they would be a lot more willing to make room for and work with Kokichi's particular ways of coping and engaging with others, because they understand that everyone in the class has their "thing" that makes them who they are. They're going to work with those things to make sure everyone is on the same page and everything gets done.

Unlike the rest of his classmates, Kokichi himself is also flexible in this way. He bounces off of people in whatever way he thinks would work best with them, and is only met with resistance from the V3 cast specifically because of his own neuroses and coping mechanisms with regard to lying and making jokes and pranks to lighten the mood. You could argue a lot of his jokes are kind of mean-spirited, but they frankly pale in comparison to Hiyoko's unprompted bullying and Fuyuhiko's blatant grandstanding. He leads people around during class trials, but Nagito does that too, and is honestly a lot more condescending about it. Even so, everyone in the class is willing to hear him out and follow along if it means getting to the bottom of things. That's the thing that separates them from the V3 cast, who go out of their way to try to shut Kokichi down simply because they think he's just fucking with them. Class 77B understands that whatever the others are saying, there's a reason behind it, and so are willing to pursue the issue to find out where it might go.

I could go on and on and on about each member of class 77B individually, but frankly that'd be an extremely long post and this one is already really long on its own. If people want to ask my opinions on Kokichi's chemistry with anyone in particular, they're free to send me an ask about it. I've already gone on a rant once about how I think he and Hiyoko would interact in the tags of a poll. Overall, I just feel like he'd fit in with that class a lot more than he would with V3.

For now, though, under a cut, I want to start with what I believe to be the microcosm of each class: the protagonists. In particular, how Hajime approaches his classmates, how Shuichi approaches Kokichi, and how I feel Hajime would be different about it.

Hajime Hinata and the Drive to Understand Others

Out of everyone in the SDR2 cast, Hajime himself is markedly the least tolerant, especially at the beginning. His entire arc is honestly largely about his rigidity and learning to be flexible with the rest of the class. Just based off his wariness in the prologue and how long it took him to click into the idea of just enjoying the trip, he has a long way to go. Even then, though, it wasn't necessarily his other classmates themselves that he was intolerant of. He was just freaked out about the situation and was perplexed that no one else seemed to be. It wasn't that he thought they were wrong, per se. It was more that he couldn't wrap his head around their point of view.

However, moving on through the rest of the game, Hajime goes out of his way to work to understand where the others are coming from, and becomes increasingly more tolerant and willing to work with his classmates the more he gets to know them. Even Nagito, who leads him around trials by the nose in a MUCH more overt and condescending way than Kokichi ever did with Shuichi. Hajime comments as much during many of the trials, how he knows Nagito's pulling some bullshit and it's frustrating him but he still goes along with it because he knows everyone is just trying to survive in their own way. He rolls with Nagito's punches to get to the bottom of things, even if he doesn't understand why Nagito's doing it the way he does in the moment. At the end of the day, Hajime knows that Nagito has some kind of logic set that he subscribes to, and wants to understand it so they don't have to constantly fight and make things harder for themselves (see: Nagito's FTEs).

Actually, the entire THEME of the FTEs in SDR2 is Hajime's desire to get to know his classmates and most importantly, understand their logic and motivations. He wants to know why they are the way that they are, not so he can change them, but so he can better mesh with and comprehend them as they are, to the point most FTEs to my knowledge end with something to the effect of "I think I understand XXX a little more now!" From that approach alone, Hajime is quite famous for ending his FTEs in a very close and friendly relationship with every single one of his classmates.

Shuichi Saihara and the Rigidity of One's Own Beliefs

Shuichi meanwhile is constantly at odds with Kokichi and telling him to stop doing what he's doing because he is intolerant of Kokichi's point of view. He doesn't get Kokichi at all and he doesn't really try to beyond a bewildered exclamation of Why!? for no reason other than to vent his frustration. He doesn't engage with Kokichi's methods in any way, making snap judgements as to whether Kokichi is lying or telling the truth (usually that he is lying) without inquiring further, and honestly spends most of his time trying to compete against them because he inherently believes that those methods are wrong simply because he can't make sense of them.

This even rings true in his FTEs where Kokichi spends the whole time goofing and playing games, and rather than engage with and try to understand the language Kokichi is speaking, Shuichi spends the entire time hung up on the inane concept that Kokichi made a threat on his life in the very first FTE. And it's like, I know, I KNOW about the good ending to Kokichi's Shot Through the Heart event. I know that Shuichi's best outcome with him is to tell him that he could tolerate Kokichi's lies, but that's not understanding, that's not comprehension.

That's a defeated white flag of "you do you, I'm too tired to fight you on this anymore."

Shuichi doesn't really want to understand any point of view that doesn't fit in well with his own. He gets along well with many of his other classmates, but that's primarily because they don't challenge his worldview as heavily as Kokichi does. Then, since the player is intended to engage with the story through Shuichi's perspective and Shuichi carries the driving ideology for the rest of the class, Kokichi suffers greatly for it.

Hajime's Approach to Kokichi

Don't get me wrong, he would be frustrated. He would be so, so frustrated with Kokichi's bullshit. However, I don't think he would be any more frustrated than he already is with Nagito's meandering nonsense during class trials. And above all else, he would not reject the fact that however Kokichi sees the world is real and sensible to Kokichi, and that in itself makes it worthy of understanding.

With all that in mind, I imagine that when faced with Kokichi's lies, he would take a more inquisitive approach: asking lots of questions regarding the details of any given story Kokichi may spin to better understand the narrative Kokichi is going for and thus deducing his intentions. Don't misunderstand—he would not necessarily believe anything Kokichi says. However, he wouldn't automatically accuse Kokichi of lying, either. Rather, he would treat Kokichi's words with the sentiment of Schrodinger's Truth. It is simultaneously true and false until Kokichi's intentions are deduced, thus coloring the reasoning behind the claims themselves.

Remember, Hajime values the idea that everyone has a reason for their actions and that reason follows a logic set and intention that can be examined and understood. Peko is very cold and distant due to a very strong sense of duty and justice. Gundam is very fantastical in his language because he feels more comfortable engaging with the world through fantasy. Akane is always laser-focused on food because of a poor childhood. They have reasons behind acting the way that they do, whether Hajime knows those reason or not, and those reasons and the behaviors attached to them should be respected.

So while Kokichi's lies may be frustrating and confusing at first, Hajime would not disregard the fact that they hold some sort of meaning to Kokichi, and so it would be better and more productive to engage with those lies on Kokichi's level. That would mean poking and prodding to get to the bottom of things. Needling around to feel out the truth. In Kokichi's infamous words, cornering psychologically.

So no, he would not believe everything Kokichi says at face value, but he wouldn't not believe it, either. He would recognize that Kokichi is very deliberate in the way he words things—little breadcrumbs to follow to whatever Kokichi thinks is important—and would very directly play his game and pry into those words to find whatever Kokichi is trying to show him. The claims themselves are not the important part, it's the greater topic and the implications such a claim entails. Just like Nagito does, Kokichi is trying to point at a particular detail without outright saying so, for one reason or another, and Hajime would recognize the value of that.

Putting this Approach into Practice

As an example, I want to examine the nature of Kokichi's FTEs and how Hajime might approach them. I dunno if I might want to write an actual fic of it at some point—it honestly sounds like a fun exercise—so I won't go into too much detail, but the way I think it would start is like this:

The instigation and overall behavior from Kokichi would be relatively the same. Hajime would come asking about his organization, so Kokichi would divulge a lot of (frankly ridiculous) information about it in a grandstanding lie, only to end the conversation threatening to kill Hajime for knowing too much. The only things I think might change are what specifically Hajime would focus on in this interaction.

From the very beginning, there is one thing that Kokichi always consistently does when talking about his organization that I think Hajime would take an interest in:

Kokichi always, always follows this format when introducing his organization:

He is the leader of a secret evil organization.

It has 10,000 members.

He is a liar.

Him being the leader of an organization is the truth.

It's like clockwork and I think Hajime would find that very interesting. It isn't really about the organization at this point, it's about the wording itself. Kokichi always introduces himself this way, so beyond the literal claims, what could the intention behind this format possibly be?

And Hajime might conclude that it's a tutorial.

Through this one scripted introduction, Kokichi conveys two very crucial things:

He lies, but he doesn't lie about everything.

He often lies about specific details of things that otherwise are true, either to embellish or for some other purpose.

So what does this mean for Hajime? That means this is a precedent that he is going to have to get accustomed to and figure out how to work with. Kokichi treats himself like a puzzle and he wants Hajime to figure him out. From this, he can finally start to think about what Kokichi is telling him:

He is the leader of a secret(?) evil(? probably not) organization.

It does NOT have 10,000 members.

He lies a lot, so don't take every detail of every thing he says at face value.

But at the end of the day there is always a grain of truth somewhere to be found.

From that point on, I imagine the way Hajime approaches the interaction and the details he decides to focus on would be very different. He would still be frustrated over the fact he has to do it at all, but he will do it anyway because at the end of the day he wants to understand Kokichi as he is.

And to understand Kokichi, he has to engage with him on his own terms.

Conclusion

This honestly got way longer than I was expecting it to, so I'm not entirely sure how to end it, but I hope it makes sense. I think about it a lot, how Kokichi might have been accepted a lot better in class 77B than in his own cast of V3. I would have loved to see how he might have been able to flourish and engage and help more directly in an environment where his thoughts and opinions are valued regardless of how he conveys them. If anyone wants me to elaborate on a particular part, or take a closer look at how any of the other members of class 77B might interact with Kokichi, please let me know!

[yvesssssssss]

Don't forget to take rest as well! Always loves your fics and thank you for bringing us happiness! I got an idea for request, maybe Nagumo and his childrens wanted to know how Nagumo and their mama (reader) met!

The Story of Us

(Nagumo Yoichi x Reader | Domestic Fluff | Family AU)

Thank you so much! Your support and kind words truly mean the world to me. I’m so happy my fics bring you joy, and I’ll definitely make sure to rest too! I hope you’re taking care of yourself as well—your enthusiasm always motivates me to write more.(⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

The living room was an absolute disaster zone.

Scattered crayons, pillows from the couch repurposed as part of an ambitious but very unstable-looking fort, and two little troublemakers climbing all over their father. Nagumo Yoichi, once an infamous assassin, now found himself pinned under the weight of his own children—both quite literally and figuratively—as they tugged at his hair, pried open his eyelids, and demanded a story.

“Daaaad! Tell us how you met Mama!”

Nagumo, ever the dramatic storyteller, sighed deeply and draped his arm over his forehead as if recalling a tragic yet heroic tale. “Ah… it was a time of peril and danger. A fated encounter between two star-crossed lovers—”

“Mom said you’d exaggerate!” his younger daughter cut in, puffing her cheeks.

Nagumo gasped as if personally offended. “Me? Exaggerate? Sweetheart, your mother is a wonderful woman, but she underestimates my gift for storytelling.”

His eldest daughter tugged on his sleeve. “So what really happened?”

Before he could spin another ridiculous version of events, the front door clicked open. You walked inside, juggling a few grocery bags, pausing as you took in the state of the room. Your sharp gaze settled on Nagumo, who was still dramatically sprawled on the couch like a fallen war hero.

“Yoichi.”

Nagumo perked up immediately, springing to his feet and taking the bags from you with an easy grin. “Welcome home, my love! We were just about to embark on a trip down memory lane.”

Your daughters bounced over, eyes gleaming. “Mama, how did you and Dad meet?”

You sighed, setting down the rest of the groceries. “If I don’t tell you, your father will make something up.”

Nagumo placed a hand over his heart. “Everything I say is the truth.”

“That time you told them you were a prince from a lost kingdom?”

“Truth.”

“That time you said you saved me from a burning castle?”

“Also truth… metaphorically.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before giving in. “Fine. I’ll tell you. But no interruptions from you.”

Nagumo mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key. (You doubted that would last long.)

Your daughters immediately scrambled into your lap as you sat on the couch, while Nagumo flopped down beside you, resting an arm behind you as he grinned in anticipation.

“It all started a long time ago,” you began, ignoring the way Nagumo wiggled his eyebrows. “Your father and I met under… questionable circumstances.”

Nagumo leaned in. “It was love at first sight—”

You shot him a look, and he immediately pretended to zip his lips again.

Sighing, you continued. “I was minding my own business when this man dragged me into one of his ridiculous schemes.”

“Was he already an assassin?” your youngest asked, eyes wide.

“Oh, absolutely.” You glanced at Nagumo, who was making a heart with his hands at you. “And he was a menace about it.”

Your first meeting had been nothing short of chaotic. You had been going about your day when suddenly, a very suspicious-looking man—who turned out to be none other than Nagumo in disguise—grabbed your wrist and whispered, “Play along if you want to live.”

Naturally, you did not play along.

You had shouted, whirled around, and elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.

Nagumo had grinned through the pain, saying something ridiculous like, “Oh, I like you already.”

It turned out he had been undercover, trying to escape a group of armed men who had just realized his disguise wasn’t real. And thanks to your refusal to go along with it, you ended up being dragged into a high-speed chase, a fake engagement, and at least two explosions—all in the span of a single night.

Your daughters gasped. “Explosions?!”

Nagumo grinned, clearly reliving the memory. “Ah, yes. A beautiful backdrop to our love story.”

“I thought he was insane,” you admitted, running a hand through your daughter’s hair. “And I was very sure I never wanted to see him again after that.”

“But you did see him again!” your eldest pointed out.

“Oh, I didn’t have a choice,” you muttered, giving Nagumo a pointed look.

Because after that disaster of a first meeting, Nagumo had not left you alone.

He popped up everywhere.

At your favorite café, where he casually slid into the seat across from you and said, “Fate keeps bringing us together, huh?”

At the bookstore, where he leaned over your shoulder and said, “Oh, I love that book. We should totally discuss it over dinner.”

At your workplace, where he somehow charmed all your coworkers into thinking he was your boyfriend.

It was relentless.

Your daughters giggled at the idea of their father being that persistent. “Mama, what did you do?”

“I told him to go away.”

“And I didn’t listen,” Nagumo added proudly.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile on your lips. “Eventually, I realized he wasn’t as awful as I thought.”

Nagumo gasped dramatically. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, nudging him lightly.

The truth was, somewhere along the way, Nagumo had stopped being just an annoying presence in your life.

He had become the person who made you laugh when you were stressed. The person who always showed up when you needed help—no matter how much trouble he had to go through to do it. The person who made everything a little more fun.

And somehow, without even realizing it, you had fallen for him.

Your youngest daughter clapped her hands together. “So then you got married and had us?”

Nagumo grinned, pulling all of you into his arms. “Exactly! And now we’re living our happily ever after.”

Your daughters squealed in delight, giggling as Nagumo smothered them with affection.

You leaned against him, warmth blooming in your chest as you watched your little family. Despite his many flaws, Nagumo had a way of making life exactly how he wanted it. And you had to admit…

It was a pretty good one.

[ssentimentals]

Hi love! Was hoping to request again for Wonwoo x reader prompt 22:Truth or dare/party games. Where Wonwoo got dared to kiss reader and it cements to himself that he has feelings for her.

Sorry, i saw the news of Wonwoo's enlistment and wanted to request, hope its okay! 💔😢

hello again sweets! ah yes, those news really have their own impact on all of us :/ so i'll happily write some fluff!

prompt: truth or dare/party games

wonwoo doesn't like to admit that he has a soft spot for you, but he does. he does, because the only reason he's sitting here now and playing in this stupid game is you. when you looked at him with your pretty eyes and mumbled 'woo, pleaaase, let's play!' he really couldn't say 'no'. it means something - his soft spot for you, his inability to say 'no'. wonwoo knows it means something. he's just not sure that he's ready to find out.

'your turn!' dino squeaks, bumping their shoulders together. 'pick.'

wonwoo glances at the cards wearily and sighs. he just knows that four stacks fo carsd are lying in front of him and each has something written on it, a question or an action. wonwoo hopes it's a question, but of course he's not that lucky - it's an action. kiss someone you like the most from the players is written neatly on it and wonwoo holds it close, so no one can see it. everyone of course try to snatch it from him or take a peak, but he presses the card firmly to his chest, looking down. he can say 'pass' and lose. he can lie about what's written and do something else. or. or-

'what's there, woo?' you ask curiously, leaning a bit closer to him.

or. or he can do exactly what's written there and kiss you. because it's obviously you who he likes out of everyone who is playing now, out of everyone in this house, in this whole university. at least wonwoo thinks he likes you. he supposes he likes you, because you are not just a friend for him. he has other female friends, but with them he doesn't notice tiny things the way he does with you. with you wonwoo can't help but notice everything: how you scrunch your nose when your coffee is too hot, how you pick your nails when you're overthinking, how you always go for cherry scented anything from hand cremes to candles because it's your favorite scent. he knows all of it means something-

'wonwoo,' you call, pouting. 'what is it?'

there's only one to know, right? he leans closer to you, pocketing his card. 'it says that i should kiss someone i like.'

your eyes widen a little. your lips form an 'o' shape and this up close they smell like cherry. wonwoo gulps. bravery is usually not his strong forte, but some exceptions need to be made in order to get to the truth. he leans closer and understanding dawns on you as you blush intensely. 'going to kiss you,' wonwoo announces.

he gives you time to say 'no'. he gives you time to stand up or move away. but you don't and he hesitantly presses his lips against yours. it's just a press at first. your lips are soft and sticky with lipstick and wonwoo thinks he shouldn't like it as much as he does. then your lips part and he's just a weak man - he dives in. and yeah, he definitely does like you, because his heart is about to jump out of his chest from how good it feels to kiss you. to kiss you properly, with tongue, to meet you halfway, to swallow tiny sounds that you make. wonwoo thinks he can easily get addicted to this. when he leans back, he finally hears all the whistling and cheers, but he doesn't care; you look at him like his next words might shatter your world and he's not about to do that. he will never do that to you, ever. 'so,' he mutters, wetting his lips. 'i kissed someone i like.'

you blink, biting your lower lip. 'you sure?'

wonwoo nods. 'very sure,' he affirms, caressing your knee. 'hope you also kissed someone you like.'

that earns him a chuckle and a light push. you shake your head, smiling. 'yeah, reckon i did.'

wonwoo knew it all supposed to mean something. he now knows it does.

a/n: wonwoo feels to the max :( hope you liked this one, let me know! - nini

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