#( and along comes this boy who puts a knife in your hand and tells you that you're dangerous. )

[taitropa]

kanej haters don't have taste as we know. but one of the biggest things they cannot comprehend about their dynamic is how much kaz values having leverage over people to get what he wants and yet he never once uses anything against inej

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You | Part III

Part III is now up and running! P.S. there are two playlists I listen to while writing these, they don’t necessarily go with reading them but you totally could listen to them as you read! Let me know if you would like the playlists. As usual, heed the tags. 

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader,NSFW, All characters 18+, P in V, Fingering, Overall smut 

Part I Part II Part IV Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

The next few days were pretty dull, you spent a few days over at Sidney’s, the first night it was just you two but the third day Tatum, Billy, and Stu all spent the night- it was a group decision to leave Randy out because he would just go on and on about who was the killer and why they were targeting the victims. Ghostface was pretty quiet too, with no killings or attempts since you, you were starting to wonder if you were meant to be the last victim, you also wondered if you had pissed them off by not going home. Luckily today you were returning home, back to see your parents and Irena and your brand new door- no shining scene included this time.

“Need a ride? Me and Stu are going to the movie store,” Billy asked, making you turn to him after you and Sidney had pulled away from a hug. “Sure, my parents haven’t left my aunts yet so I would appreciate it,” you said before turning to Sidney again. “Thanks for letting me crash at yours, I’ll call if I have anything weird going on again,” you promised her, waving bye as you left with the boys.

“You should call us if that creep comes back, me and Billy can put him in his place,” Stu said, giving his signature laugh and smile, making you laugh. “That’s a great idea, Billy can scare him away with his crazy eyes and you can bore him to death by telling him all about horror movies,” you joked, earning annoyed glares from both boys, making you laugh again. “I’ll call if I see them again, okay? Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself,” you promised the boys as you climbed into the back seat, throwing your bag in next to you.

The day passed by smoothly, the boys had taken you to the movie rental store and bought you some candy along with a movie, which Stu insisted you watch and even rented for you. Prom Night, another fucking Jamie movie. You had popped it into your laptop that night once you were home. Irena sat on your lap as you caught up on some homework due the next day, occasionally you glanced at your laptop to watch the movie, not noticing when Irena had moved from your lap and moved to your vanity. She sat down, her tail twitching angrily, your attention finally moved to her when you heard a little growl escape her.

When you got up to see what had angered her you saw the window slide open, the same masked killer from the other day climbing in through your window. You paused, looking at them with wide eyes, wondering if the flirting over the phone had all been a plan to get you off guard, to either kill you or kidnap you so they could set you up for the murders of Casey and Steve. Your nerves didn’t calm down when they motioned you closer after closing the window, still, you walked over slowly to them. Their hand reached up to your face, cupping it gently before gripping it more firmly, holding the knife in their other hand up to your cheek. Your breath hitched, feeling the cool touch of the steel against you, but they made no movements to harm you in any way, not really at least.

The knife ghosted over your skin, not enough to cut but enough for you to feel scared and strangely turned on at the same time. Your eyes studied the mask in front of you, you couldn’t make out their eyes behind the mesh, but you could feel their eyes piercing into yours. They removed their hands from you, pushing you towards the bed, you complied but paused when you sat down on it. “My parents are home…can-can you lock the door at least,” you asked, they tilted their head towards the door and you swore you heard them chuckle as they most likely recalled how they broke the last one. They walked over to the door, locking it before making their way to you. Your legs clenched together, your ever-growing nervousness and excitement now showing to them as you wondered what they were going to do.

They looked over you for a moment before holding the knife right up to your sternum, pressing the knife onto your clothes as they began to drag it down, leaving a trail of torn clothes in their wake. “I kinda liked those…” you murmured, if they hadn’t had the mask on you may have seen the shit-eating grin they had on their lips as they pressed the knife harder against your skin. Your cheeks heated up, taking the hint to shut up as you let them continue. You had already changed into pajamas earlier in the night, your Carrie shirt now tattered and torn, exposing your top half to them. Once they reached your groin, they paused and moved the knife away, pocketing it before pushing you back onto the bed so you were laying down.

They hovered over you, tracing your face again, the rough texture of their glove trailing down your body before their fingers hooked under the waistband of your pj pants, tugging them off slowly. Your skin grew goosebumps all over, the cold air in your room felt like mercy against your warm skin, which was only growing hotter by the second. A small whimper left you as you felt them place their hand over your panties, you hadn’t even noticed until that moment but your arousal had shown even through the fabric, feeling a little embarrassed that you were so needy without much effort.

Your hand flung up to your mouth as you felt them reach into your underwear, you could feel how cold their fingers were even through the gloves as they ghosted over your clit. You bit down on your hand as they pressed on your clit, circling around it as you closed your eyes and tilted your head back. The texture of the glove bothered you a little, which they must have noticed as you bucked against their fingers. A whine left your lips as their hand pulled away, opening your eyes to see them reaching into their pocket and pulling out some torn piece of fabric. They spread it out in their hands, showcasing it to you, a blindfold. Another blush rose to your cheeks as you tilted your head up for them to put it on, a silent understanding between you two that they wanted you to stay clueless about who they were. They reached around your head and tied the fabric over your eyes, your heart began to beat faster realizing that you were completely at their mercy now.

They reached back into their pocket, bringing the knife out and making a stabbing motion at you, bringing the knife inches from your forehead. When you didn’t flinch, they felt comfortable knowing you couldn’t see behind the blindfold and began to undress. You heard them shuffling in the outfit, hearing a thud on the floor, wondering if that was the knife or their mask. You received your answer when you felt the knife against your cheek again, you felt yourself grow wetter, partially because of the knife, partially because ghostface was standing right in front of you unmasked and you couldn’t see them. Your hand tried to move to touch them but before you had the chance they pinned you down by your wrist. You whined but they only gripped you tighter, they dropped the knife and instead grabbed your torn t-shirt and tied your wrist together with it.

You didn’t have to wait much longer before their mouth was latched onto your neck and their fingers were tracing over your core. Their fingertips teased you, running over your folds as they carefully placed a hickey on your neck. You could feel a grin on their lips as they bit and licked at your skin, feeling your pulse under their tongue. You did your best to keep your voice down, your heavy breaths bounced off of your bedroom walls as they pushed two fingers into you. A louder whine sounded from you, to which they comforted you by planting a kiss against your lips. You didn’t need to see them to feel the passion in the kiss, they pushed against you with such need, teeth clanking together and making your bones shake as their thumb moved to your clit.

Your thighs opened a little wider to allow them more access, relishing in the pleasure their hands brought you. The familiar tension in your stomach was slowly beginning to build, sweat began to form on your skin from feeling their hot breath against you. You felt their eyes on you, it only made you more turned on knowing they were watching every little reaction you had to their movements. Another finger entered you, hitting a spot inside that made you toss your head back and thank any supernatural being or god there was that they were quick enough to swallow the moan you let out in a kiss. They took the opportunity to snake their tongue into your mouth, making you melt even further as their pace quickened.

Your chest began to rise and fall quickly as that knot in your stomach threatened to break. You moved slightly, your hips bucking and moving against their fingers as you let the pleasure take you over. Before you could tip over the edge they pulled away, which made you whine and squirm in protest. “Not fucking fair,” you breathed out, to which you were met with the cold blade of their knife again pressing against your neck. You pouted, realizing ghostface probably didn’t like your bratty attitude too much but it was all fixed when they kissed you again. Your legs slowly fell open again, allowing them to situate themself in between them. Their hand let go of the knife again and instead took the opportunity to roam over your body, little whines coming from you when they ran over- and teased- all the spots you reacted to.

Finally, they trailed their way back to your core, watching as your face scrunched up with pleasure as they circled your clit again. “Please…” you whined to them, their other hand gripping your thigh as a warning, “I want you in me already, please.” You begged, their grip growing even tighter, likely to leave a bruise before they finally let up. You barely took a breath before you felt them against you, your body tensed slightly but soon calmed down as you felt their lips on yours again. They were more gentle this time, but you could feel the tension they held by holding themselves back. “It’s okay., you can ruin me. Please ruin me,” you begged again, whimpering when their hand gripped your neck, squeezing the sides as they quickly entered you.

Ghostface was smart enough to put their mouth on yours again to cover up your moan, melting in their hold as they began to set up a steady pace. You wondered if they were taking it slow to let you adjust or to tease you, but they quickly had your attention again when their free hand returned to your core. Your stomach tightened once again, your head spinning with all the pleasure they were giving you. When their thrusts began to quicken you couldn’t help but arch your back, your ankles hooking around them and trapping them in between your legs, but with the way they thrusted even harder into you, you don’t think they minded it one bit.

It wasn’t long before the two of you were close to coming undone, both of your hips stuttered and bucked, their hand that played with your clit quickened a little as well, paying attention to the spots that had you shaking. “Fuck, gonna-“ you whined again, your head tilting back as they hit your sweet spot, “gonna cum,” you whimpered out between moans, trying to keep quiet. They continued the torture they were inflicting on you, your black vision turning white as you finally reached your climax. Your thighs shook around them, pulsing around them before they came.

You felt their muscles unclench, glad that you finally came to the realization that they had worn protection, mentally cursing yourself for not even checking before. They pulled out slowly, gently touching your face as you whimpered from the loss. You adjusted yourself on the bed as they finally peeled away from you, hearing the shuffling of clothes again as they got dressed.

After a moment you felt a dip in the bed, feeling them untie you but held down your wrists as they leaned in for one last kiss. You smiled into it, giggling as they pulled away. “Come again tomorrow, with a new Carrie shirt preferably,” you asked playfully, feeling their lips curl up into a smile before they pulled away. You heard the thumps of plastic before your blindfold was taken off, your eyes meeting the masked killer after adjusting to the light.

“Was that smile a yes,” you asked, smiling when they nodded. “You can take the torn one as a momento, and so you know what size to get,” you offered, holding out the piece of clothing to them. They grabbed it, heading back to the window as you stayed on the bed and watched them. They climbed out of your room while you finally stood up and watched them take off. You sighed, running your hands over the little hickeys and bruises they left on you before heading to your bathroom to get cleaned up.

There was the ringing of a phone, only sounding for a few seconds before the other line picked up. “Hey Stu, let's take the girls shopping tomorrow, we owe someone a new shirt. Also need to get you all fancied up too, you have a date tomorrow night,” Billy said, Stu laughing before beginning to question him on the details.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

for the submissions thing, could u write something w/ needy!gyu who acts like a brat to get ur attention at dinner with u and txt? :) no worries if not!

Behave

pairing: beomgyu x reader

warnings: sub gyu, dom reader, nipple play, begging, slight overstimulation, exhibitionism, oral fixation, think that's it, there may be more tho

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this took so long, bc i am perpetually procrastinating and inspiration hits once in a blue moon so i'm sorry anon but it's here now!

It's been happening all night.

His hand sliding up your thigh, fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants, just enough to make sure you notice. You brush him away every time but he doesn't seem to be getting the hint.

Or, more likely option, he got the hint and decided to actively ignore it and continue on, the little brat.

"So what's been up with you guys lately?"

And all while he keeps trying to rile you up you also have a conversation to juggle.

"Oh nothing really," your words are too composed, too put together for Beomgyu. You're supposed to be struggling, trying to catching your breath as your face goes red-how he looks when you tease him. "The same old. What about you though, how is it trying to control these minx's?"

You gesture to the rest of the boys, taking the opportunity to slap Gyu's hand away, pushing off of you.

"Oh, you know," Soobin says, glancing meaningfully at the boy beside you.

The boy in question takes no notice, instead 'dropping' his fork and a little too happily proclaiming that he needs to pick it up, climbing under the table.

"Brat." you mutter under your breath, feeling his soft hair come into contact with your skin before it's his lips, peppering kisses over your leg, nose nuzzling into your heated flesh.

"I definitely know." You reply, taking a bite of food to cover the groan that almost escapes.

What motivation does he have? What's driving him to do this? All while you're out at dinner with all of the rest of his friends.With his bandmembers.

Desire. Want. Pure horniness that he's been harbouring all day long, imagining sinful things all while you try to hold up a conversation.

He needs you so bad.

Ever since this morning, ever since he watched you slide your rings onto your onto each finger while getting ready for the day.

He felt saliva pool in his mouth as he fixated on your hands, on the metal and pretty jewels that coated them. In the lithe way that your fingers moved.

He'd gave an experimental grind against the bed at the time, holding back a desperate moan.

But you'd heard him. You'd heard him and you'd known, with the way his eyes were fixed intently and what exactly they were on.

You'd known and you'd teased him, played with him like the little toy he is for you, stepping closer and dipping down to wrap your hand around his jaw, pushing it up to force him to look at you.

"Are you needy, Gyu?"

He'd nodded desperately, hips working against the sheets below him in a futile attempt to gain a sensation that would replicate you.

"From my fingers huh? From watching them?"

His eyes had flickered down to your ring-clad hand and he nodded, mouth falling open, drool coating his lips.

He'd wanted them in his mouth so bad. He still wanted them in his mouth for fucks sake but you'd just smirked down at him before leaving a peck on his nose and telling him to be good while you were gone.

Telling him to behave.

This was payback.

For making him horny and needy and desperate.

He ought to be ashamed of his behaviour now as you tug him back up into his seat. His cheeks are flushed pink and drool creeps down from the corner of his mouth which you quickly brush away.

The others continue to talk as if they don't notice anything. As if they aren't vaguely aware of the tension between the two of you. Acting as if it's so thick you could practically cut it with a knife at this point.

His hand slides up your thigh, getting a touch too high, agile fingers sweeping to rub over you. Your teeth sink into your lip.

"Behave." If only you knew the things that one small word does to him, setting something alight inside of him, burning hotter and hotter and hotter.

But he doesn't. He won't. He enjoys this too much to even consider it.

So his quick fingers will continue their exploration as they begin to slip under your shirt, palm flattening against your skin to grab onto your hip.

"You better stop right now if you know what's good for you." The hiss is low and only makes his body hotter.

You should really know this by now.

A small smile curls at his lips and a faux innocent look enters his eye as he hooks the thumb of his free hand towards the bathroom.

You sigh, trying to turn away from him and continue the conversation you had trailed off in.

He doesn't let you though, instead he slots his mouth right beside your ear, warm breath sliding across your neck, "I’m not wearing any underwear." fuck, you can hear the shit-eating grin you're sure is on his face, knowing that he's succeeded in his endeavor to rile you up. "Thought you might like to know."

Your breath comes out sharply and all you can imagine is everything you're not supposed to right now.

Shameless brat.

You should really know this by now.

You have learned. A long, long time ago that he was like this. That Beomgyu is something outside the realm of common decency and wouldn't care if any one of his friends were to catch him in the act right here and right now.

"Hello, are you guys okay?"

You turn to Kai, a blush coating your cheeks.

He's probably the only one who doesn't have some kind of idea of what's going on right now.

The only one that doesn't put the pieces together. Of your red face and Beomgyu's smirk and the fact that he's using his non-dominant hand to clumsily eat because his dominant hand is the one that's on the side that you're on.

The others watch, amused. Yeonjun whispers something to Taehyun and he whispers something back and you're ninety percent sure that they just made a bet on how you're gonna dig the both of you out of this hole this time.

You blank.

Shit.

"Yeah! We are, completely fine Kai. Beomgyu uh, just remembered," a low escapes your throat as his fingers rub against you, up and down and relentless. You cover it with a cough but just barely. "That-that he forgot to turn off the stove, so we have to get going to y'know turn that off, so the entire apartment doesn't burn down."

"O-kay then?"

It's not a very believable lie, not with the way you scramble to grab your things, the others nearly laughing as Taehyun tries to discreetly slide something under the table to Yeonjun.

And definitely not with the way you shove Beomgyu, hissing into his ear, goosebumps rising along his skin. "Don't you dare look back, just keep walking."

"Um, guys! You know the door is that way-"

"We parked out back!" you call back.

You pass the door to behind the restaurant and head straight for the back to the bathroom instead, pushing the door open and leading him inside.

He's whining, nearly dropping to his knees the second the door is shut. You don't let him though, fingers digging into his hair, pulling him up and he hardly minds.

The lock clicks and he whimpers at the sound.

And then your lips are on his.

A downright disgusting mix of spit and teeth and tongue, a sinful mess that makes his head spin, his hands flying to paw at your body, searching for something-anything to hold onto.

It's hungry and it's consuming, moaning and messy, sucking his tongue into your mouth to which he gladly accepts. His body going limp in your hold, leaning against you, into you.

It's almost as if you're trying to devour him alive, taking and taking and taking everything he can give.

Until he feels lightheaded and floaty from lack of oxygen and the weak grip he hold around your bicep goes completely lax. When you're both out of air and your own lungs burn is when you pull away, heaving air in huge gulps as he looks at you with dazed eyes.

He's in shambles and it's one of the hottest things you've ever seen. The attitude he had been harbouring before melts away into something pliable and easy and so cute.

Your fingers brush over his cheekbone and he eyes them. The rings, your rings glimmer in the lighting of the room, calling him in like a crow to a shine.

Your touch is light, almost a brush. Like he's made of glass or porcelain, fragile and dainty, a precious object to be treasured and cared for. Over the slope of his nose right to the and down to his lips, so soft and so gentle it's like you're afraid that you're going to break him.

"You're so pretty Gyu." This kind of gentleness surprises him, but he won't reject it. Not when it's you touching him, making his head feel fuzzy and warm.

But he wants more, needs more. "You can be rough with me. I can take it." The words are drunkenly slurred, intoxicated off of your touch and voice and taste.

Your eyes harden in an instant, as if you were waiting for this. Waiting for the little shit to brat out again.

He's flipped so quickly his head is left reeling, moaning as his body is roughly shoved against the counter.

"You're such a brat." open mouthed kisses trail down his neck, teeth scraping against his skin, leaving marks and claims he'll appreciate later and appreciates now. "A fucking brat, who doesn't know how to fucking behave." His nails claw at your scalp as his head falls back, mouth opening to let out raw hearty moans. "I'm gonna ruin you."

It's a promise. A threat. Everything in between. Everything he loves. Everything he's been longing for.

Hands fumble, rushed and wanting, trying to tug his shirt over his head as quickly as possible, unbuttoning his pants to see that he is, indeed, not wearing any underwear. Not regular boxers or decorative panties he wears to rile you up. Nothing.

And you can almost feel back with the fact that he's had to go all night with his poor dick just rubbing against his jeans but then you remember exactly who's fault that is.

Beomgyu waits. Waits for you to touch it, put it in your mouth, do anything but you don't. And he gets impatient.

His hips roll forward and you roll your eyes. "How about tonight," you leave his pants open and crystalline tears run over his cheeks. "I make you cum with only your nipples, huh?"

It's a rhetorical question. You don't care what his answer will be, you'll do whatever you want anyways. But you do know how much it messes with him to tell him exactly what you'll do to him.

"You have the most beautiful tits, don't you baby?" he pants at the words, at the way your eyes sweep over them obsessively. Only looking, letting the suspense build before even you can't bear it any longer.

"Be good for me." And then you're twisting them and pinching them, cupping his pecs in your hands.

His breath hitches when you lean forward and lick over one of the red hard buds pervertedly, tracing it with your tongue and basking in the way he tastes, in the way he sounds. Pausing to listen to his whiny gasp.

He keens as you wrap your lips around his nipple, giving it a careful suck, swirling your tongue around it. Spit starts to coat his chest, he doesn't care, he just wants more, needs more. "Ple-I-i need, i need."

You give one last lick and look up at him, pupils lust-blown, lips puffy. "Need what Gyu?"

He doesn't know. He can't think, he can't decipher which way is left and which way is right when you do this. He's so sensitive, his nipples are so sensitive. It's one of the things you love so much about him, how something as simple as this could cause such a reaction.

"Ne-" He tries to talk but his tongue only lolls out, trying to keep his eyes focused so he can see straight. "Need," He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut as tightly as possible.

"Shh, relax, I got you."

He gasps and grabs a handful of your hair as your lips attach to his chest once more. You begin to suck again, this time you carefully let your teeth graze his skin, circling around.

Mindless babbles and incoherent words fall from his lips. His eyes squeezed shut, blocking out the sound of chatter outside and the bathroom counter cutting into his spine. Blocking out the world entirely to focus on you.

You and your mouth, sucking harshly before licking over it softly and switching over to the other in a tortuous pattern.

He pushes your head closer, arching his back, urging without words to be a little more rough with his chest, to stop being so nice.

You growl and it vibrates against him, making his head fall back, debauched cries and porno worthy moans escaping.

"M-more," He gasps, "More!"

It's an obligation, one you could hardly ignore.

And so you bite him-hard and he sobs out, tears dripping down his cheeks.

He's so sensitive, his nipples are so sensitive. It's one of the things you love so much about him, how a simple bite could cause such a reaction.

Because to him it’s ecstasy, all encompassing and overwhelming; it’s pure bliss, a drug pumping straight into his veins like the teeth that dig into his flesh, the blunt nails that sink into his back to keep him in place while he nearly screams, the sound only muffled by his shirt that you quickly press into his mouth.

His teeth dig into the fabric as ropes of cum cover his chest and pants. He doesn't care.

Pleasure and pain, mix together like euphoria stealing the breath from his lungs and making his legs tremble in the best way.

His jeans are probably ruined. He's vaguely aware that he's going to have to leave the restaurant like this. Cum-stained pants and a look on his face that tells that he's been fucked. His shirt drool-soaked and rumpled.

The bite inevitably stops, your head coming up to look at him. He feels so sad. He wants more. He wants everything. You look almost smug at the utter ruination written across him face, the way his eyebrows scrunch together, the way his hips rut forward.

Kisses are placed all over his neck and collarbone, sweet before getting rougher and rougher.

Your lips curl against him and he realizes his mistake.

Made a hundred times worse by the fact that he's been a menace all day long.

"I didn't hear you ask for permission pup."

A squeak escapes Beomgyu as your fingers pinch at his nipples once more. Mean and unrelenting at the oversensitivity they now have.

"Now I'm gonna make everyone out there hear you beg for it."

a/n: enjoy this bc it's the last thing i have queued until i get back, which hopefully won't be that much longer than when this comes out

but besides that, hope you enjoy! it's partly also influenced by this post here and the dialogue prompts!

--

taglist is open here: @hobihearteu, @shincode, @lemonhongjoong, @d7dream, @laylasbunbunny, @maru-matt, @xcookiemonsteer

[heich0e]

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical characteristics, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

"We've got some stuff to talk about."

Megumi watches as Kota's little sock-clad feet swing back and forth while he sits in his chair at the table in the middle of the staff room of the veterinary clinic. He's eating some of the chocolate covered mushroom-shaped cookies the vet keeps tucked away in the back corner of one of the tallest cabinets out of sight, with a glass of milk.

At the counter on the opposite side of the room, Yuuji is slicing him an apple. Megumi stands at his side.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Yuuji asks him under his breath, in response to the answer Megumi had just provided him about who this kid is and why he looks just like him. "He's clearly—"

Yuuji's voice pitches up a little too loudly and both men quickly glance over at the little boy on the other side of the room, who is watching them curiously. Yuuji smiles, though Megumi can see just how strained it is from up close, and then the two men shift away so their backs are to the child once more.

"Fushiguro, that's clearly your kid."

"Not possible," Megumi replies immediately, and he means it. Sure he'd thought the same thing when he first saw the boy, but with every passing moment he's come more firmly to the conclusion that it simply isn't plausible. There's just no way.

Right?

"Hey, Kota-chan?" Yuuji calls over his shoulder, still hacking away at the apple in his hands. "When's your birthday?"

Kota's lips purse, a smudge of chocolate next to his mouth.

"I dunno," the little boy replies.

Both of the men hold back their groans.

"Mama never bought you presents and gave you cake after she sang you a song?" Yuuji tries again.

Kota's eyes light up and he nods. "Yeah!"

Yuuji laughs a little at how the child's expression has changed. "What was the weather like outside that day?"

Kota seems to think very hard about this new information. "There was snow outside. Mama made a snowman with me and then we went inside to eat cake."

Megumi watches as Yuuji does the calculation in his head. It takes a while.

"Kota told me he's four, so who were you seeing in the... late winter or early spring five years ago?" he finally works out the math and asks his friend from the corner of his mouth.

Megumi thinks back, though reluctantly.

"No one," he says finally, upon a moment of reflection.

Yuuji looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel.

"What are you doing, by the way?" Megumi asks, watching Yuuji drag the knife along one of the apple slices, peeling away only a small section of the skin.

"Making bunnies," Yuuji replies, holding one up for Megumi to see.

It does kind of look like a bunny, he has to admit, with two little bits of the peel cut out into points. It's not the most realistic rendition he's ever seen, but it's a close enough approximation. He watches as Yuuji sets the last rabbit-esque slice onto a plate and carries it over to Kota at the table.

"Here you go," he says with a smile, setting the plate down in front of the boy.

Megumi can practically see the sparkles in the child's eyes when he looks at the slices of fruit.

"Bunnies!" he says, beaming up at Yuuji. The pink haired man returns his smile with an equal enthusiasm. The boy picks up a slice immediately, holding it up to his face to appreciate it. "Mama puts bunnies in my lunch sometimes."

Yuuji's smile falters a little. "Hey, Kota-chan, is there anything else you can tell me about your mama? She must be really worried about you, you know."

Kota's lips curl into a sad little frown. He avoids Yuuji's eyes. "Mama was working, and I knew she wouldn't let me help the bunny if I told her because she was really busy, but I had to help him."

Yuuji softens a bit, huffing out a breath. He plops a hand down into Kota's dark hair, ruffling it gently. "You're not in trouble, buddy. And you did help the bunny. But we've gotta try and get you home now, okay?"

Kota nods a little.

"You said your mama works nearby right?" Yuuji asks, and again Kota nods. "And it's a restaurant?" Another nod. "What does mama do there?"

"She brings people their food! And she brings them drinks!" Kota replies.

A server, obviously.

"Okay, good job, Kota. I'm gonna see if I can figure out how to get you home, alright?"

The little boy nods, taking a bite of his apple slice.

Yuuji approaches Megumi, still hovering on the other side of the kitchen. "I'm gonna give Nanamin a call and see if anything's come in about a missing kid at the station, if not I'll jog around the block and check the local restaurants. You stay with Kota and write me down a list of all the women you've—"

Both men look over at Kota, who's watching them raptly with a cheek full of apple.

"—been friends with." Yuuji finishes his sentence strangely, but Megumi gets the message anyway.

The dark haired man feels heat flare in his cheeks, grabbing Yuuji by the front of his shirt before he can step away.

"I've always been very..."—he glances over at the child on the other side of the room—"careful with my friends."

Yuuji understands what he means.

"You can never be careful enough," he remarks pointedly, albeit a bit awkwardly—his cheeks are a little bit pink now too.

Yuuji and Megumi don't ever talk about stuff like this, at least not in such specific detail. This is the kind of conversation Yuuji'd have with his friend Todo, or maybe Nobara, and the kind of conversation Megumi would rather take with him to the grave.

Megumi grits his teeth. "I'm not making a list."

"Fushigu—"

"I don't need one. It doesn't merit the paper." Megumi cuts him off, his cheeks burning so hot he's surprised the room hasn't gotten brighter. Yuuji's eyes widen a little as he processes the admission. Megumi's never really been one to sleep around, and while he's had a few long-term partners, none of them were around the time that Kota would have been born. Plus Megumi's relationships all ended relatively amicably—he'd have known if one of his exes had a baby. "I'm telling you, it doesn't make sense."

Yuuji nods a bit, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Alright, alright," he says. "Let me go call Nanamin and we'll get this figured out."

Megumi watches as his friend steps out through the doorway to the staff kitchen, breathing out a long, weary sigh once he's gone.

"Erm—Doctor Shiguro?"

Megumi freezes, glancing over at the little boy at the table. He'd sort of momentarily forgotten he was even there.

Kota is sitting at the table, rubbing at his eyes with his small fist.

Megumi looks at him expectantly.

"I'm sticky," Kota says, holding up his hands with his fingers splayed.

The man blinks for a moment, and then nods, retrieving a small bit of paper towel and running it under the tap to dampen it. He brings it over to Kota, handing it to the boy, but the child sticks both of his hands out. Megumi hesitates and then takes one of his small hands in his own, sweeping the damp towel across it.

He repeats the motion with the second hand, making sure to get any lingering stickiness off of his smooth skin. His hand is incredibly tiny, Megumi can't help but notice—there are dogs he'd tended to with larger paws than Kota's little hand.

Once Kota's hands are clean, Megumi glances up at his face. His eyelids are drooping, and the man realizes it's quite late for such a young boy to be awake (and eating snacks no less.) That smudge of chocolate is still on Kota's cheek, so Megumi wipes it away with the damp towel too.

"Doctor Shiguro?" Kota mumbles tiredly.

"Fushiguro," Megumi gently corrects him.

"Is my bunny really gonna be okay?" the little boy asks, rubbing at his eyes again.

Megumi thinks back to the way Kota had the little rabbit held against his chest underneath his coat to protect it from the rain; how desperately he'd asked him, a stranger, for his help; how scary it must have been for such a little boy to be out so late, in such a bad storm, all alone.

He nods.

"Yeah, he'll be alright."

[sillyblues]

‘pecador.’

synopsis— you bring the sinner out of miguel o’hara

cw— religious themes, blood, mild nsfw, 18+

“En el nombre del Padre,”

Miguel O’Hara was a sinner. Violence has always resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins. It was evidently clear to him and everyone, even back then when he was younger. He could barely remember his first memories of joy with his mother nor a play with his brother, but he could remember vividly when he threw a punch at somebody who told him that he and his mother and brother were dirty.

And ever since then, he has not learned of a moment filled with peace. His father berated him and punched him as well because how dare he hurt the son of his boss. Because of it, his father had been fired, and they had no money anymore. But Miguel didn’t care. How could he when that little shit insulted his mother in front of him? He let his father vent his anger and frustrations on him. 

“Y del Hijo,”

But a mother’s love was great, and his own mother couldn’t bear to see her son getting hurt, so she tried to stop him. She took her in his arms and protected him from his father. But she shouldn’t have done that. He wished his mother stayed put in place and come to him when his father was done with him. But she didn’t because her love for him was great.

His father grew furious at the sight of his wife hiding his son away from him and in wrath, he hurt Miguel’s mother as well. The slaps and the punches and the hair pulls were thrown at his mother and he knew it was painful. He tried to pull away from her as his eyes were wide and tears streamed down. He begged his father to stop and asked him to forgive him, he sobbed as he said to him to hurt him instead, just not his mom. But despite it all, his father turned a deaf ear to his pleads and his mother’s embrace was tight just so he would not get hurt.

“Y del Espíritu Santo,”

His father’s anger was a large fire that evaporated away his family’s water of tears but Miguel’s resentment was a burning fiery hell only reserved for his father. His rage was molten and flowed through like lava and it pulsed within his heart and consumed his rationality. His fury blinded him and he didn’t know what he had done until he regained his vision momentarily back to see his mother crying.

“Miguel, escúchame,” his mother whispered to him with a tremble as she took the bloodied knife that he didn’t know he was holding from his arms. He looked at his hands soaked in red and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“My baby boy, thank you for protecting Mama,” she hugged him and rocked him back and forth as she sobbed. Like instinct, he hugged her back weakly. “I love you so much, I want you to know that.”

“Be strong for me and for your little brother, okay? He has no one but you. Take care of him and yourself, alright?” her soft voice was full of sadness and he desperately wanted to look up to her and comfort her. He wanted to tell her that he also loved her very much and he will but like a lullaby, her voice sent a wave of sleepiness and his vision darkened.

But he couldn’t help it and then, he fainted. When he woke up in a hospital room with his little brother, Gabriel, snuggled beside him, nurses and the police greeted him. There, he knew his mother killed herself.

“Amen.”

He took his mother’s words to his heart and swore that he would protect his brother. He did not let anyone take him or his brother or relied on adults because he trusted nobody. He appealed to the court at 16 years old that he could take care of himself and his brother. Fortunately, he was approved and he took multiple jobs to sustain their needs. He didn’t go to school, no, he didn’t have any time but he made sure that Gabriel did. He worked tirelessly sleeping barely 5 hours a day just to bring food to the table and have a roof over their heads. But despite his busy schedule, he made sure to be there on Gabriel's important days.

Years went by and they had formed a mundane lifestyle. And he tried so hard to keep it that way. But violence resided in his soul and the sinner in him was rekindled once more when his brother was found dead one early morning. He received a call when he was about to go to work and rushed to the crime scene when he heard the news. When he saw Gabriel’s lifeless body and the blood that pooled around him, the remaining hope in his heart was crushed and rage once more visited him and burned fiercely. The police ruled it as suicide as he was found in an alleyway in between buildings. But Miguel knew that it wasn't because of his brother who was so happy and talked his ear off about graduating and becoming a billionaire so he could support him and would never give up on life like that.

“Padre nuestro,”

Miguel decided to join the underworld where mafias and gangs ran about. He took jobs there not only for quick cash but to form connections and information. He investigated more about his brother's death and found out that he was bullied for a long time by a group of kids his age. Apparently, they picked on him because he was sorry for being dirty and a son of a filthy murderer. There was evidence on the autopsy that was not reported that he was burned, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. A camera evidence that was also not submitted and was deleted (but luckily saved by the corrupt authorities who tried to keep it as a blackmail opportunity) showed that they pushed Gabriel to his death and they all laughed about it. Not only that but he wasn't their only victim.

Miguel felt so angry at himself and guilty that he didn't know that behind his brother's insistence on being covered up from head to toe, lies numerous wounds. Knowing him, he probably didn't tell him so he wouldn't worry about him. He wished he did. He wished Gabriel was a little more selfish and made him worry about him instead because he would protect him better.

With this, he took his time to learn more about the arrogant pricks that murdered his brother. He moved to a different city, to Nueva York, so that he had an alibi. He stalked the conceited brats who did the same to numerous people and their rich parents who didn’t give a shit whether their children murdered someone. He learned their routine. Their schedule. And when the time was right, he put a bullet through their heads one by one when they least expected it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come on man, I’m sorry,” they begged with tears and snot dripping, crawling backwards under his shadow. “Don’t kill me, please, I’ll give you anything.”

“Money? Do you want money? I’ll give you hundreds and thousands,” they always said the same thing, thinking that money was enough for him to forgive the suffering they had caused to his remaining family that they took away, the bruises and cuts on his brother’s body, the damage they had done on him mentally. “No? Half a billion? No, no! One billion!”

His jaw clenched. Pathetic pigs. He cocked and aimed it at them.

“No, no, no! NO—!” they stuttered and screamed but were cut off by the sound of a bullet fired by a gun with a muffler.

He wondered if they at least felt some remorse or at the very least thought about how Gabriel or the other kids they tortured and killed felt as they begged them to not hurt them. But he knew people like them, he had seen them countless times including his very own father. People like them didn’t care about anything or anyone other than themselves. These kids were just the same as them.

He made sure to clean up his tracks, deleted potential shreds of evidence, and made some story that would make their case solved and closed easily. He left the city swiftly and came back to his new home. With this, he tried to leave his old past behind and began his life anew.

“Que estás en el cielo.”

Miguel hated himself. He hated the fact that he killed his father which resulted in the death of his mother so that nobody will know that he killed him. He hated the fact that he was so ignorant of his brother's suffering that he had to be pushed to his death for him to realize that his brother was in pain. He hated the monster he turned out to be, always out for blood and killing people like it was nothing.

The sea of guilt and remorse suffocated him and he drowned himself in alcohol and women. The money he saved up which was supposed to be for Gabriel’s graduation gift was used on his vices. 

Day and night, his sins weighed heavy on his mind and not once, was he given at least a moment of peace.

“Santificado sea tu nombre.”

A knock snapped Miguel out of a trance as he smoked out of the window of his apartment. The wispy grey stench wafted in the air as he raised an eyebrow, wondering without much interest who could be knocking on his door. It couldn’t be the landlord as he just paid his month’s due. His past flings? Probably.

Knock. Knock.

He took another drag and inhaled as much as he could before he exhaled and extinguished it on the ashtray full of ashes and butts of leftover cigarettes.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming.”

He opened the door and found nobody, but a baby in a basket with a letter sticking out of the blankets wrapped around it. The sight of the baby filled him with anxiety and dread. He looked sideways, hoping to at least find who put the baby on his door but only the sight of closed doors greeted him. He had an inch of what was happening and he did not like it one bit. 

With a shaky sigh, he took the baby and cradled it in his arms. God, he didn’t even know its gender. But the sight of him made the baby giggle and coo at him and he bit his lip. Fuck. He opened the letter with his other hand and the words written on it confirmed his suspicions.

“It’s your baby, Miguel. You were the last one I hooked up with before I found out I was pregnant and even then, it was too late. She was too grown and I cannot abort her anymore. I don’t have any papers of her because I have no money and I can’t raise her.”

Miguel could feel a migraine forming and he rubbed his forehead. The baby must have found his distress amusing because it giggled once more and tried to grab his fingers. 

No. She. Not it. 

Fuck.

Miguel wasn’t ready to be a dad, he doesn’t even think he was suited to be one because he was a piece of shit but he took another look at her that was so snug and comfortable in his arms as she looked at him with wonder, he thought it wouldn’t be so bad to try to take care after her.

“Venga tu reino.”

A few years passed by and Miguel accepted his role as a father. He named the baby Gabriella after his late brother. He got into therapy and went back to work so he could raise her with no financial problems and so that he wouldn’t be a bad father to her. Gabriella was a handful child. He slept countless sleepless nights, often waking up early in the morning because she was crying. Sometimes it was because she was hungry, sometimes she just needed help to digest the milk, and sometimes there wasn’t any particular reason for her cries. But still, he cradled her in his embrace and sang lullabies to her softly.

It felt like it was just yesterday Miguel opened the door and found her on his doorstep. Gabriella has grown into a bright young child. She took after his looks as she inherited almost all of her genes from him. 

Oh, she was so lovely. She was the best of him, better than him and Miguel liked that because she deserved better. She made him believe that he wasn’t the worst piece of trash and that he wasn’t useless. She made him feel loved and he made sure she felt loved as well.

She was very much into soccer and he was so proud of her. He attended all of her games without a miss, winner or not. He was there with her by her side, teaching her how to be kind enough to not hurt anybody and allow herself to be hurt. He taught her to be emotional yet to also remain logical. He taught her to tell him anything yet also let her remain her own privacy.

Miguel loved her very much and she loved him very much as well. 

“Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo.”

But he was a sinner and there will be time that his sins would catch up to him. He understood this one day when he got home one afternoon as he got home after work and was greeted by his child, his precious baby, his Gabriella’s lifeless body in her blood.

The tears came fast and thick. He immediately cradled her into his arms and rocked her back and forth. He begged her to wake up, to open her eyes for Papa. To surprise him that this was just a prank. Or a dream. Anything.

Please, wake up. You can’t die yet. I haven’t lived the rest of my life with you yet. I haven’t seen you on your quinceañera yet or your graduation or the first time you get a job. I haven’t seen you get married or surprise me with grandchildren. 

I haven’t seen you live your life yet.

Please. Don’t do this to me.

“Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día.”

Violence has always resided in his soul and with his daughter’s death, he committed his one last vengeance. He visited his old life once more. He got back with his connections and his trusted friends gave him whatever he needed in exchange for nothing and as their condolences.

The killers of his daughter were related to his previous crimes. They were related to the families of the people he killed and they decided to kill his daughter as their revenge.

And in return, hunted them all down. He hunted all families down and despite all the scars, all the sharp cuts, all the black and blue bruises, and all the bullets that pierced him, he never gave up and killed them all. Multiple mafia familias were down and he made sure that they couldn’t even think of getting revenge and that all they could do was bow before him.

“Hahaha, you son a bitch,” one cackled as he spat on him, “you deserve it all.”

“You heartless bitch, you’re the reason why all your family’s dead. Fucking cunt, you think you can revive them? Dream on.” he babbled his useless mouth on and wheezed.

“I know.” How could Miguel not know? For not one second that had gone by, he could never ever forget how he killed his family.

“Your death will not bring my family alive but it will make sure that any other families won’t be killed.” And with that, he pulled the trigger and let the loud sound of the gun resonate through the room. His head spat out red and some solids of his brain decorated the wall behind him. His blood dripped down and it joined the pool of the blood of the other corpses that lay dead in the room. The rays of the rising sun shone through the window and it gleamed on the pool of red. Silence filled the room and only the sound of his breaths remained.

Miguel’s eyes gave up suddenly and he fell to the ground on his knees with a harsh thud. With a tear, his shoulders loosened.

Finally. It’s over. Everything’s over.

Miguel should be glad that all of his enemies were gone and nobody would even dare to hurt him anymore but what does it all matter when everyone he held dear was gone?

“Perdona nuestras ofensas,”

Due to the rules of the underworld, the top dogs with Miguel O’Hara leading, their identities would be hidden and they would not be allowed to surrender themselves to the government as it could overthrow the black society altogether. Partly because of this, he turned to God and moved to a quaint town. He became a priest with the sole purpose of repentance and earning forgiveness for his sins. He didn't know if he was asking God to forgive him or his family who died because of him to forgive his carelessness in protecting them.

It was ironic really because he never really believed in God despite the nightly mass he, his brother, and his mother used to have. The words he uttered were redundant, merely sounds he couldn't understand nor tried to. When his mother died, he and Gabriel did the nightly mass in honour of their late mother. And when he died, he could only attend Sunday mass in the church with Gabriella because of the ache of missing his mother and brother yet still continue the tradition of being faithful to God. He wanted her to grow up good and kind so he taught her the values and morals of being a Catholic despite not fully believing in God.

A hypocrite, that's what he was and usually thought about as he led the mass during his schedule.

And he still was when a quiet mysterious woman moved into town. 

You.

“Como también nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden.”

You appeared so suddenly out of nowhere in this town. He lived in the Church but in such a small town, words tend to spread easily. In just two days of your arrival, he already heard of a young woman who had just moved in. 

Miguel was a bit wary as this town barely had any people. Most residents were grandparents or older parents who were already retired and their children who left to move to the cities for bigger opportunities and education. He didn't know what you were thinking about coming here. Were you sent here by the underworld? No, it can't be. He was protected by his friends who ruled the underworld now. Did you have a past like him? Were you running away from something? He sighed as he shook his head. Then again, it was none of his business and it was most definitely not his right to pry.

The next Sunday was the first time he saw you. You sat there at the back, ushered by your neighbours, he presumed. In rows of people, you stood out so brightly. Your back was straight, there was elegance so blatant despite the plain clothes you wore. He met your gaze one too many times and noticed the way you hung onto every word he uttered.

And when the mass had ended he stayed around longer this time and talked with the locals a bit more. And without a doubt, your new friend introduced him to you.

“Oh good morning, Father O’Hara! Wonderful mass, by the way, I loved the homily, well, as usual, it really reflected my situation now with my son in college. Do you still remember?” Mrs. Lorraine greeted him with a handshake.

“Oh for God’s sake, Lorraine, yes Father still remembers that and I’m sure he appreciated that you love it. Don’t forget you’re here to introduce [Name] to him.” Mrs. Eleanor said, cutting Miguel off before he could even reply.

“Oh! Dear me, why yes,” with widened eyes, she laughed, “Yes, forgive me.”

“Father, this is [Name]. They just moved in here and I invited them to join the church.” she moved her body to show your figure and Miguel finally had a close look upon you. Your eyes stared at him and for a second, he felt like there were just the two of you. You looked at him with wonder and curiosity and Dios mío, you looked so innocent and he was reminded of the darkness that exists from within him. He felt like one touch and he could corrupt you easily. He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow, desperately hiding any tremor in his composure.

“[Name], this is Father Miguel O’Hara. He moved into this town a little while ago and clearly, one of our only priests.”

“Oh, good morning, Father Miguel.” Christ, your voice was soft as a wind that tickled his heart. You held out your hand to him. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Good morning.” He nodded stiffly. He took your hand and shook it.

Even your palm was smooth and he forced the thought down to hold your hand longer.

“No nos dejes caer en tentación y líbranos del mal.”

You were kind. Endlessly so. You sponsored this town’s community event alongside donations to the church anonymously but everybody knew it was you. Everyone just decided to keep their silence to respect your decision in keeping your identity. 

You preferred to listen to others and learn more about them rather than talk about yourself. You always asked how everyone was doing and gave them gifts under the excuse of it being old despite it polished brand new. Whenever children or the grandchildren of the locals visited, you always stopped by their house and gave them little gifts as well.

Miguel had seen you interact with children multiple times whenever he was doing groceries and pass by at yours, he saw you giggling along with the children. He saw you reading books to them under the shade of a tree and rays of sunlight would gently decorate your faces and the winds would play with your hair. He saw you happy and the children happy with you as well.

And his heart throbbed at the sight of you each time but he swallowed the feelings forcibly down as his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Amén.”

He hated you.

He hated the way you invoke feelings in him. He hated the way you tempt him unknowingly and he cannot blame you to take any responsibility for the way you make him feel. He hated the way you make him want to sin again, to unleash the beast inside him he had caged for so long but for another different reasons entirely which was you.

He was a priest, someone who he tried so hard not to sin but you make him falter in his beliefs so effortlessly.

So he hid himself who had become a sinner once more just at the thoughts of you.

“En el nombre del Padre,”

But he was so weak for you.

After a mass one sunday morning, you asked him if you could have a talk with him just the two of you and somewhere private. Miguel knew he should have said no. He should have turned you away and pretend he has not been watching you from afar and from the corner of his eye. But he was weak for you and before he knew it, he let you in on his office room.

“Father Miguel, why are you ignoring me?” you asked so suddenly and he knew it was coming. He has turned away from you, pretending he doesn’t see you coming and would walk the other way. But he was still caught off guard. You leaned closer to him he could smell your delicious scent. He leaned away because his patience with you was just so little he might lose his hard-earned control.

“Pardon me, but you’re getting too close.” He said with gritted teeth and tight fists. You looked hurt at that. With widened eyes that were soon filled with dejection, you slowly rubbed your arm. Guilt flooded his being and as much as he wanted to apologize, he couldn’t. Any second with you drove him insane and he could only take so much of this. He didn’t want to lose his reason, his morals, his values as a Priest. He couldn’t bear to. But any more second with you, he just might lose it all for you. You bit your lip.

“Why do you hate me so much?” you whispered with small tears welling up your eyes and Miguel hated himself more. There was nothing more he wanted to do at the moment than to hold you and wipe your tears away himself. But he can’t. It’s wrong. Priests don’t get close like that to their fellow believers. 

“I don’t hate you—” he sighed as he looked away but you cut him off.

“Then why do you look away from me? Am I so undeserving for you to not look me in the eye? Am I so disgusting for you to get close to me? Am I so inadequate and worthless for you to treat me like you treat others?” you said harshly at him while tears slipped your eyes. You took a step at him with every word you said and he took a step back in every step you took until his back was pushed to the wall behind him. “So do not tell me that you don’t hate me when all you did made me feel like you despised my entire being.”

For fuck’s sake.

He grabbed your arm and turned your body, switching positions with his. He made sure to cover the back of your head so it wouldn’t hit the wall too hard and he growled under his breath.

“I do not hate you.” he said with gritted teeth. “I want you.”

Your eyes widened at that.

“What?” you confusingly and breathlessly asked.

“Every time I see you, there is nothing more than I want than to be with you. I look at your pretty face and I want to kiss you so bad. I look at your nice figure and I want to hold and caress you. I want you.” he panted silently, the words he never dared to even utter to himself outloud was finally out of his chest. And now that they were free, he looked at your eyes to see how would you react. Would you push him away and slap his face? Would you be disgusted with him you’d never want to see him anymore?

He would understand but he didn’t know if he could bear with your hatred.

“Then take me.” your hand encircled his neck and the other gently stroked his cheek.

No.

“I’m right here.”

I can’t.

“Show me you don’t truly hate me.”

It’s wrong.

“Show me how much you want me.”

In an instant, he captured his lips with yours as his hand slid to the back of your neck. At the touch of your lips, the hidden lust for you blossomed. He pressed his face to yours and yours closer to his deeper, his kiss burning so passionately and fiercely. You opened your mouth with a moan and he invited his tongue in, and he nearly groaned at your fragrance hynotizing him and your sweet taste that ignited a new kind of hunger for him. His tongue swriled with yours and together, they danced a dance that left him breathless.

He pulled away slightly and a web of both of your saliva disappeared. He stared at you as you panted. You looked at him pleadingly and your stare sent a rush of blood down in his pants. He wanted more and he knew you wanted the same.

And with that, he plunged to the roaring sea and its waging waves of lust.

“Y del Hijo,”

For you, he threw his title as a Priest and became just Miguel.

All for you, he returned to his origins and became a sinner once more.

“Y del Espíritu Santo,”

Each day and night, you invited him into your temple and he worshipped you. What once was just thoughts that tortured him became reality that gave him a glimpse of heaven. Your aroma engulfed him and filled his never-ending greed of you and your flavor satiated his endless glutton for you.

“Amen.”

As he finished his prayer, he stood up from kneeling and bowed to the Cross of the Lord. He fixed his clothes and the sounds of his footsteps against the tiles of the Church rang as he left with thoughts of you.

He wanted to hear your melody that was akin to the trumpets of the angels again. He wanted your soft and supple skin to be against his dark and rough ones. He wanted to be pressed under you with your legs on the either side of his head and your juices spill in his mouth. He wanted your warm cavern envoloped around him and to feel you come undone by him.

With a silent chuckle, he thought about how he tried so hard to not corrupt you by with his wicked thoughts only to be corrupted by you instead.

For Miguel O’Hara was a sinner and no matter how much he tried to change that, he will always be one. Violence has resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins but time changed him and has now become lust that occupied his being along with the infinite greed and glutton that only wanted you.

[blue-slxt]

The Game

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: So this was inspired by crazy, horny ramblings from discord. I just love my man and threesomes are pretty fun (even if they are a monster to actually write lol). All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Na'vi!Reader x Fem!Na'vi!OC

Warnings: Smut, P in V, Threesome, Oral (M and F receiving), Face Riding, Sapphic Kissing/Touching, Creampie

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Neteyam gets caught up in you and your friend's "game".

Everything about this whole situation was just so unusual. Neteyam couldn't believe he found himself in this scenario. It was so unlike him to get caught up. But he had been distracted. It was supposed to be another regular trip through the forest. But something was different tonight. He got careless; he got distracted. He smelled a scent he wasn't familiar with. As many times as he's walked through this forest, he knew it inside and out and he knew that whatever this scent was, it didn't belong here.

He hushed his own breath and lightened his footsteps as he moved closer to the unfamiliar smell. It was floral, but with a hint of some type of fruit that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Peeking through the bushes, he noticed your crouched form next to the river. Your back was turned towards him and it seemed you hadn't noticed him approaching you.

He almost called out to you, but when he saw your face, his voice was lost to him. To say he thought you were beautiful was an understatement. Your features were soft and round, but there was a hardened edge to your expression. Clearly a gentle and nurturing soul, but a heart made of steel and no fear.

That's where he fucked up. He got so lost in his musings about you that he let his guard down and didn't notice the second presence coming up behind him until a strong hand grabbed ahold of his kuru and a cool blade was pressed against his throat.

"Move slowly..." the second voice speaks lowly to him.

She stands to her feet and brings Neteyam with her and moves both of them through the bushes into the clearing. "Who did you find this time, Ìze?" you say brushing your braids out of your face.

With a sly grin, she walks him closer to you, "We got a big catch this time. None other than the prince of the Omatikaya himself."

"What is this?" Neteyam asks, trying to piece together the unfolding situation.

"Why don't you tell us? You were the one watching me, weren't you?" you say walking up to him and trailing your fingers over his broad chest.

His ears pin themselves to his head feeling embarrassed at being caught and called out. "Fine. So what do you want?"

Ìze chuckles behind him, "Same thing that you want, pretty boy." Her hand on his kuru eases its grip and starts to lightly stroke the base making Neteyam's breath grow heavy.

"It's okay, Nete~..." you say his name with a sweet tease. "We just want to play with you a little bit..."

"How do you know my name?" he asks, trying to not let the quiver in his voice show.

"Oh, you are famous even among other clans, Mr. future olo'eyktan." Ìze answers finally lowering her knife from his throat. And yet, Neteyam still makes no attempt to escape.

"I've been dying to find out if the Omatikaya prince tastes as good as he looks", you continue letting your fingers dance along the waist of his tewng.

Ìze slowly circles around to his front letting his kuru slide sensually through her hand before letting it fall. Now that Neteyam could clearly see her face, he could see that she was beautiful too, but in an entirely different way. Where your beauty radiated nurturing warmth and hidden power, Ìze was beautiful in an intimidating way. She was clearly the hunter type and everything from her posture to her voice commanded respect.

"So take your pick, Nete~" Ìze teases the nickname.

Neteyam tries desperately to quickly rework his malfunctioning brain to come up with some kind of a response. But any words that come to mind, die in his throat before they ever make it to his lips. His eyes just flicker back and forth between the two of you trying to make sense of at least some part of this.

"What's the matter?" you ask, stepping closer and running your hand along his perfectly chiseled jaw. "Yerik got your tongue?"

Neteyam's not sure why he did what he did next. Maybe it was how sweet you smelled or the shiver he felt all the way down to his tail when you touched him. Regardless of why, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you in close against him.

Your eyes go wide with excitement and a devilish grin plasters itself on your face. Ìze's expression mimics your own at the unfolding situation in front of you both. You're not quite done having your fun yet, though. You lift up on your toes and press light kisses to his cheeks, his nose, the corners of his mouth, his chin, everywhere except where he really wants you. When his patience runs thin, Neteyam uses two fingers to hold your chin and keep you in place so that he can properly place a firm kiss on your lips. 

His lips are in perfect sync moving against yours, but before you can fully comprehend anything, his tongue is swiping at your lower lip begging to be let in. You eagerly grant him entrance just as you feel another set of hands wrap around you and cup your breasts. Neteyam’s tongue dances with yours where he clearly sets the tone and takes the lead and you’re more than happy to submit to him. You sigh into the kiss feeling Ìze give your earlobe a playful nip. You finally pull back from the kiss leaving a thin string of saliva connecting your lips together. 

“My turn” Ìze says still groping at your body that was thoroughly trapped between the two of them. 

She leans in over your shoulder pressing her lips to Neteyam’s and the kiss is a fierce battle of wills between the two of them. Their tongues fight for dominance as you let your hands trail lower down his toned body and you feel the outline of his dick through his tewng. Feeling how big and stiff he is right now has your breath growing heavy with anticipation. Your eagerness clearly overtakes you when your fingers get busy untying his loincloth. 

When they finally break their kiss, both of their chests are heaving for air. Neteyam locks eyes with you and his blown pupils and half lidded eyes match your own. He lets you continue on your mission to rid him of the offensive cloth until it falls while he licks and nips at your neck. He breathes in deep, heady breaths of your intoxicating scent and you make no attempt to stop him from scenting you. Ìze says in your ear, “looks like the prince has taken a liking to you” with a giggle in her voice. 

“It would seem so. I’ll take the first round and then we’ll switch?” you suggest with a slight moan escaping when his tongue glides just below your ear. 

“Sounds good to me.”

Neteyam is so lost in leaving little marks on your otherwise perfect skin that he doesn’t even hear the two of you scheming. It’s not until you push him away by his chest that he finally breaks out of his trance. Neteyam focuses on the two pairs of eyes trained on him. More specifically, on his thick cock standing tall and proud in front of him. 

“Lay down” Ìze instructs. 

His ears twitch back and forth signaling that he heard her, but his tail sways in hesitation. 

“Relax, your highness. Let us take care of everything.” you say tail practically thrashing behind you with excitement.

Neteyam feels like he’s having an out of body experience, watching himself follow your instructions as he lays down on the soft, glowy moss.

He watches on in curiosity and amazement when you and Ìze strip off your own tewngs in front of him leaving the three of you bare together. You approach him from the bottom while Ìze walks around to the top of Neteyam’s head. Getting down on your hands and knees, you crawl over to him and settle yourself between his thighs that twitch and jump under the gentle caress of your fingertips. It feels like you could start drooling when you finally hold him in your hand. He’s so thick and heavy in your grasp, your fingers can just barely fit all the way around. 

Dragging the flat of your tongue up his length, you can see Neteyam’s abs tremble with the shuddering breath he releases. Your tongue travels up his whole length and then you take his tip into your mouth. Beads of tangy precum coat your tongue and you hum around him in satisfaction at the flavor. 

The beads in his braids clink together as Neteyam’s head falls back to the ground. When he looks up, Ìze is crouched over him grinning like a devil at him. 

“Ah ah ah, eyes forward, pretty boy.” She says, grabbing his face and pointing his eyes back at you. You hold searing eye contact with him while you slide him all the way into your mouth, making small gagging sounds when he brushes the back of your tongue. 

“She’s doing such a good job for you, isn’t she? Doesn’t she just look so gorgeous swallowing your cock?” 

If your lips weren’t currently occupied, they would be tugging into a smirk watching the prince’s composure crumble. Ìze always loved taking the lead in these situations. Meanwhile, you were more of a pleaser. Nothing compared to the rush you felt when you would watch a strong warrior or proficient hunter melt under you. 

Neteyam finally can’t hold your gaze any more when you shoot a wink his way. It’s more than he can handle. His eyes squeeze close while you continue to bob your head up and down on his length. Ìze takes the opportunity to turn his face back to her and capture his lips in another heated kiss. 

Neteyam moans into her mouth when you hollow out your cheeks and he swallows the small chuckles she lets out. 

When you and Ìze lock eyes, a silent understanding is shared between you. You pull off of Neteyam with an audible ‘pop’ and Ìze pulls back from their kiss and Neteyam is left with his head still spinning figuring out what’s happening. 

“Time to see if the prince lives up to his reputation. What do you think?” Ìze teases.

“Oh, I’m sure that he won’t disappoint us” you muse, stalking closer to him and stealing a quick kiss. His lips try to chase after you when you pull away. He watches you intensely when you straddle his hips and hover right above when he really wants you to be. His hips buck beneath you trying to chase your heat. Every time he comes close, you lift your hips a little higher, keeping him from fully getting what he wants out of you just yet. He lets out a low growl of frustration, but it only amuses the two of you. 

“Now, now, don’t be such a tease. I think we’ve made him wait long enough, don’t you?”, Ìze purrs walking behind you and placing her hands on your hips.You let her help guide you to finally sit down on Neteyam’s stiff cock. The stretch is even better than you imagined. 

“Mmf!”

Every curve and ridge seems to fit perfectly inside of you. Neteyam can’t help but watch you sit down on it and watching the way his jaw falls to his chest is the exact sight that you love to see every time. 

You move your hips up and down at a steady pace, coaxing small groans of pleasure from the man under you. Ìze takes her hands off you and makes her way to Neteyam’s face.

“Don’t forget about me just yet, prince.”

She uses two fingers on Neteyam’s forehead to gently push his head down for her to straddle his face. Neteyam wastes no time having his fill of her. 

“Ahh…”

Both of you roll your hips in perfect time with each other on top of him. Your walls clench and hug around his thick cock while Ìze covers his face in her slick that he’s steadily lapping at. 

“Ahn~! Nete!” you cry out when his hips snap up to meet yours. One of his hands holds on to your hip for more leverage to rut up into you. His other hand holds Ìze in place for his tongue to reach all the right spots. 

“Haah…ah, right there!” she croons. 

“Ìze…” you breathe out, reaching your hand towards her. A smirk crosses her lips already knowing what you wanted. She leans forward towards you and uses her fingers under your chin to tilt your face up to hers and press her lips to yours. Her tongue invades your mouth, muffling the sweet moans you make from every buck of Neteyam’s hips. 

The night air is filled with the various sounds of wet skin slapping against skin and muffled sounds of pleasure from all three of you. 

Your head is swirling with all the stimulation that almost borders on being too much. The smell of arousal thick in your noose, Neteyam’s tip knocking against your cervix, and Ìze playfully licking into your mouth has you quickly approaching your peak. 

You finally break the kiss to catch your breath and notice Ìze’s glazed over eyes. It’s a look you’re all too familiar with from having done this so many times. It’s the look she gets when she’s close. She pants against your lips; the two of you practically sharing the breath. Below her, Neteyam attaches his lips around her clit and sucks on it lightly sending shock waves through her body. Her normally hardened, confident expression has melted away into something needy and wanting. Thankfully, you knew exactly what she needed. 

Your hand reaches around the back of her head and grabs ahold of her kuru. Gently stroking the base of it, you lightly purr to her “let go for us, Ìze”. 

As if you had directly spoken to oher core, her hips twitch and her thighs shake with her release that coats Neteyam’s face and runs down the sides of his mouth. Her pussy desperately clenches around nothing as she continues to ride out her high until she can come down.

Watching her like this always riled you up more. Made you go harder, faster, deeper. It was beautiful to watch every time. She was beautiful. 

Her body relaxes and she drops her full weight down. Neteyam lightly taps her thigh to signal to her that he finally needs to come up for a breath and she climbs off of his face. 

“Have fun~” she says with a slightly tired lilt to her voice, leaving the two of you to finish. 

In one fluid motion, Neteyam sits up and lays you on your back on the ground. He throws your legs over his shoulders and ruts into you with more force than before. Lightning flashes through your body. Without even realizing it, your tail coils around his bicep in a subconscious attempt to help keep your mind grounded. 

“Ah! Mm! Haah…Nete!” 

“Cum for me, tanhì” he quietly commands you, knowing that he’s probably just as close as you are. 

Your toes curl and your nails dig into his skin when your release rips through you.Your walls vice grip around him and Neteyam can’t hold back anymore. His hips stutter and lose their previously steady pace as thick ropes of white spill into you making warmth spread in your lower belly. 

His lips crash into yours, still fresh with the taste of Ìze on them. It’s disorienting and addicting in the way it seems to drag out your high and make you see stars. When he breaks the kiss, you’re both trying to catch your breath. 

“So?” Ìze inquires from somewhere behind you.

A smile spreads on your lips and you simply respond, “I told you he wouldn’t disappoint us”.

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[fire-lizard-ro]

Aventurine angst/comfort

CW: spoilers for 2.1, Aventurine’s real name, talk of death/genocide, deep seated trauma, trying to heal from trauma, Aventurine's past, talk of slavery (his time as a slave), self loathing, esteem issues, talk of ego and sense of self, identity crisis???, a bit of a character study I think, meandering around because I cannot structure my thoughts whoopsie, there was a single Projecting Moment oops my b

Long post, so buckle up. I might add more later ehe-

No mentioned gender for reader.

Writing under the cut (SFW):

I had the sudden realization that Aven probably doesn’t know as much about the culture he lost as he’d like. Or at least as he’d secretly like to know. For years he was preoccupied with surviving and putting on a mask seared so deep into his ego that he might have forgotten those wishes were even there. But when the dust has settled, and his job is done? Once he’s “slipped the collar” and found his freedom? There’s… a lot less external noise to distract him from the noise inside.

It's just like he said. You must first fool yourself in order to fool everyone else. Aventurine must have tried his damnedest to forget the silly little wishes of Kakavasha. Those wishes needed to be buried in the dirt along with his name. They could never come true, so what was the use of having them in the first place? But that doesn’t stop the heart from yearning for the things it lost.

The longer he’s away from the stage, that place full of dazzling lights where it was always all eyes on him and he was always the circus act of balancing on a tight rope- always gambling on the knife’s edge between life and death… The more Kakavasha seems to remember what he used to dream of. It’s like the slow trickle of water from a crack in the tank.

Once he’s with you and he’s comfortable enough to tell you about his story… Once he’s given time to really trust you. The tank breaks and it’s like he’s a fish out of water, all of his “self” exposed under your gaze. It’s terrifying. But at the same time… healing. You’re his safe space. He’s never needed anyone to save him- that’s not what you are. You’re not some savior swooping in to save their damsel in distress. Sure, maybe it would have been nice had there been someone there for him back when he was just a scared child who had just lost everything he’d ever loved. But he fought, tooth and nail, for what he has now. Clawed his way out of the bodies that littered his past and wiped the blood from his mouth in order to finally gain his freedom. He doesn’t need someone to save him. Doesn’t need someone to fix him. But he loves you because you’re there to hold his hand while he finds his way to the end of the tunnel.

Nowadays he feels more Kakavasha and less like Aventurine. It's a struggle, because he doesn’t know if he should be Kakavasha.

Kakavasha was the name of the coward scared boy who could only run when his sister told him to run. Kakavasha was the name of a boy who lost everything and it was his fault. Kakavasha was the name of a boy made slave who was only seen as a pretty face and a tool it was all he was good for. Kakavasha was the name of a boy who could do nothing to save anyone all because of this damned blessing curse favor. Kakavasha was the name of a failure.

But he also didn't know if he was allowed to be Kakavasha.

Kakavasha was also a child who was untainted by the greed of life.

Kakavasha was an innocent child who knew how to trust people.

Kakavasha was allowed to want and to have. Kakavasha was loved.

Could he ever be loved? Having done what he'd done? Been what he'd been? Been who he'd been?

Was he Aventurine? Or was he Kakavasha?

Who was he, really?

Back then it was so noisy. He just wanted to cover his ears to shut out the screams and the voices of the people who wanted to use him and the chants of those who wanted to kill him-

But now all the noise was inside and he couldn't just cover his ears. It wouldn't help. It wouldn't stop these thoughts from running rampant in his head.

Sometimes it felt like Kavasha was a lifetime ago, detached from Aventurine when his mask he always wore took hold of him again. Both a helper and a jailer. He couldn't stop himself from falling into old habits.

But sometimes Kakavasha was all he could be. Remembering what his sister's smile looked like and how his mother's lullabies sounded and how his father's hugs felt.

Remembering how those last hugs felt and those last goodbyes weren't supposed to come so soon.

Remembering what it felt like to be chained up like some unruly pet dog and what it felt like to kill a man.

Remembering what how it felt to bury his past and his name and his family and everything else he ever loved and become a new person.

Remembering what it felt like and what it took to become Aventurine.

With time, your encouragement and support, and some self reflection (and likely some therapy)... He slowly allows himself these things.

But it gets worse before it gets better.

He learned how to hate himself long before he had the notion that he could love himself.

He learned to love others before he learned to love himself.

He gives away all the love he cannot give himself. To you

(There's the projection help- THE CALL IS COMING FROM INSIDE THE FUCKING HOUSE-)

With time he learns that he is not the sum of his actions. He can be loved. He IS loved.

You help him find what things researchers have managed to scrounge up from the remains of his people's home- from Sigonia. What they recorded even while they were still around. He sifts through painful memories to find the good ones. Remembers the once forgotten feeling of his people's language in his mouth. Teaches you all the curse words first just for fun but doesn't tell you what they actually mean. Gives you a nickname in that pretty mother tongue of his. Murmurs stories and sweet nothings in your ears while you fall asleep on his chest, the rumble of his voice and the beating of his heart lulling you to sleep.

You help him regain some of what he lost. You stayed and weathered the storm with him. You didn't leave and you made him realize with eyes wide open that you love him. That he's worthy of being loved by you. That being worthy was never even a question in the first place.

And he can never thank you enough for it.

His shoulder to lean on, his hand to hold, his ear to listen.

He is Kakavasha and he loves you.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Hey!

Could we do tending to wounds after a fight w/ Bucky please?🥺

I can't explain it but this drabble brought me so much peace. I like it a lot ❤️ thank you for requesting it and thank you for all your support 🥰

Tending to Woulds after a Fight (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

BuckyBarnes x Reader

word count: ~900 (a smol boi)

warnings: mentions of blood and injury, Bucky feeling guilty, so so much fluff

Bucky huffed as the two of you opened the door to the safe house. It was quite nice compared to the ones he’d been in before. Of course, Tony Stark wouldn’t even spare a penny when it came to secret hideouts, not even in the middle of nowhere. 

You followed closely behind Bucky, a hand pressed to your thigh, where a blood-soaked cloth was tightly tied around a knife wound. 

“Sit,” Bucky demanded before he roamed the cabinets for medical supplies.

You did as you were told, biting back a hiss when the table beneath your legs shifted the pressure of the makeshift bandage. It was no one’s fault, really. The attackers had come out of nowhere, surprising even Natasha who had eyes on the radar at all times. And because of the thick walls of the bunker, she wasn’t able to tell you through the comms in time. 

Bucky was back with a box of supplies that he put down next to you. Quick to rip open the cut on your pants further, he began to drench the wound in alcohol. Another hiss pulled from your lips. He wasn’t careful enough, Bucky knew that. But his hands were shaking. He hated to see you hurt... hurt because of him. 

“Ow, careful please,” you spoke through your teeth. 

“Sorry.”

“’s alright.” Your hands laid on his - calming, warm. 

Bucky took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. Had he not asked you to come with him on the stupid mission - a mission he had called to life after finding out about the base which harbored hydra weaponry - you wouldn’t be bleeding out right now. 

“It’s not your fault,” you reminded firmly after recognizing Bucky’s look. It was the face he’d always make when he punished himself - most times for something that was out of his control. But sadly, Bucky had a difficult relationship with control. He couldn’t distinguish outside forces from his own, or he didn’t want to - a habit he’d adapted after having been responsible for so much pain and violence in the past. 

He looked at you. “I still don’t like seeing you hurt.”

You just nodded silently when Bucky got to work again. He was a lot calmer now. Your gentle reminders always helped him relax. He stitched the wound up quickly, now slightly hunching over the table as he sorted the kit back. 

That’s when you saw it. Bucky had ignored it, taunted by the guilt that threatened to swallow him if he stopped, but the decent-sized cut on his chest dipped the gray shirt beneath his opened combat jacket in deep red. 

Your hand pulled on the zipper. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bucky.” A scolding look.

“I’m okay. I’m good.” He moved to shake you off but brushed the wound instead and the little stutter in his movement along with the clench of his jaw betrayed the stoic attempt.

“You’re not fine, Buck. Let me help.”

“You’re hurt.”

“And why should I be the only one taken care of?” 

He looked away. Slowly, you moved off the table and turned Bucky with you by his shoulders until he was the one positioned as you had just been. One leg supporting your stance and the injured one lightly tapping the ground, you searched the box for the disinfectant again. 

But as Bucky noticed how difficult it was for you to balance on your good leg, he gently pulled you between his legs, one land lingering on your waist to steady you. You looked at him for a moment, watched as his other hand casually rested on the table, and secretly wished it were on your body instead.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky suddenly confessed, averting his eyes when the drenched cotton was pulled from his torso. 

“You don’t have to punish yourself anymore, you know? You never did.” The words rolled over your tongue and Bucky just squeezed your waist in response.

“But I do. I can never make this up.”

You leaned back, hand resting on his shoulder as his began to draw slow strokes on the skin beneath your top. “It’s not for you to make up.” You whispered, forehead leaning against his in the intimate moment you shared. 

“Then why does it feel that way?” His voice was breaking with tears when he asked the question that occupied his mind so many times before. He had fallen lost in the feeling of uncertainty trying to answer it on his own.

“Because you’ve been made to believe.” But you had the answer ready, as always, a soothing reminder to stop beating himself up every once in a while. 

Bucky nodded weakly when you got to cleaning his injury, one hand always lingering on his skin and it calmed his heartbeat completely. He watched as you worked on the cut, taking care of him like no one else had ever done and he fell back into a state of awe - familiar almost because it always happened when you were around him. 

You stuck a big band-aid on his chest when you were done, but your hand lingered on the heated patch of skin. 

“All done,” you whispered when Bucky’s eyes captured you once again. He did that often, but you wouldn’t complain. 

“Thank you,” he responded just as carefully, his other hand coming to wrap around you until he hugged you fully, his head buried in your chest and your hands stroking over his hair. 

You stayed that way for a while, just gently soothing hands up and down, breaths syncing - calm, and somehow... finally at peace.

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[ghosts-bandwagon]

Yay request are open!!! How do we feel about a one shot where König constantly refers to the reader with German pert names without telling them what they mean? After a while they start to think König is making fun of them in German because whenever they confront him he gets all flustered. Maybe a fluffy ending where König confesses his feelings after the reader confronts him and asks what she did to make him make fun of her!

Ahhh this is so cute!! I love it!!! (tagging @konig-is-bbygrl bc könig is in fact bbygirl)

You were acting as a liaison between the 141 and KorTac in an attempt to get the two teams to cooperate on the field in the future. They chose you because you had good interpersonal skills, you followed orders well, and you met and exceeded expectations. That and you pulled the short straw. It was either that or send Ghost and that would’ve made matters worse, you love him but it’s the one department he lacks tact.

You were a little nervous, sure, but the team was pretty welcoming. Particularly the veiled giant, who you learned was König, he stuttered a bit at times and maybe spoke too fast when he got a little nervous or enthusiastic but you thought it was cute.

And then you’d get sent out together, and for a while you felt like you worked well together, communicated clearly and efficiently, and you were able to complete your missions with little to no incident. You’d fire off a joke or two over comms, exchange stories while waiting for evac in a safe house, you had a good thing going. But the more you got sent out together, the stranger his compliments became;

“Good shot, liebling.”

You laughed hesitantly at the compliment, it was a compliment, right?

“Keep your head low, schatz.”

You thanked him but the word turned over on your head over and over, was that an insult? It was at this moment you regretted taking French in college instead of German, you have yet to even see a French word in a context not involving food. When you met up at the RV point, the question has been sitting on your tongue for a while now, tainting the peaceful symbiosis you’ve created with König. You were in the safe house waiting for your next orders, he was sharpening his knives and you stood by the window. It was now or never.

“Hey, what do those words mean?” Your question cut the silence,

“Hm? Sorry?” He looked up at you from his seat at the table,

“It’s just, whenever you’ve told me something, you end the sentence with a word in German.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you watched his eyes widen for a split second before he quickly looked back down at the knife in his hands,

“Oh! Ah, well that, um, don’t worry about it, süße.” You’ve heard him stutter and occasionally trip on his words, but he was still direct with you. This was different, and it put a bad taste in your mouth. To add insult to injury, he’d used another word in German. He’s not… making fun of you, is he? It made your chest ache painfully, you suddenly felt like a fool for thinking you were actually getting along.

“Oh, ok, I guess.” You mumbled, turning your attention back to the window. The tension was palpable, you felt like you were drowning. You shook your head, focus, dumbass. This isn’t the time for that. It wasn’t too long after that, thank god, you got your orders and went to your posts. It all kept running in loop, all your interactions, all your jokes, all the laughs, all the quiet moments together, was he just being nice? Is he getting fed up with you but he doesn’t know how to tell you and he’s just casually adding insults to every sentence?? No, come on, that’s ridiculous.

“I’ve marked two soldiers on your path, maus.”

Did he just fucking call me a mouse?

Petty bastard. You clenched your jaw, the dread settling in your gut had quickly turned into anger. As soon as you were finished here, you’d pack your bags and head back to your boys, but not without giving the giant asshole a piece of your mind (and Price but that’s beside the point). The thing is though, you couldn’t wait until you were back at base. As soon as the chaos had died down and you met back up at the safe house, you let him have it,

“Good work out there, liebling.” König praised as you walked into the safe house, that was the final straw. You threw your gear on the table and leveled him with a glare, heart racing, adrenaline pumping through your system,

“Ya know, you’ve got some nerve, König.”

Not good.

“This entire time, I thought we were getting along really well and I don’t know what happened or what I did… I mean, fuck for a moment I…” the words died in your mouth, too scared to breathe life into them because then this confrontation would hurt all the more. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves,

“If I did something wrong, I’d rather you tell me instead of insulting me in a language you know I don’t understand.”

Oh fuck.

“Insult you? Schatz, never, I- they’re not insults, I would never.” His heart was pounding in his ears, hands becoming sweaty, his veil suddenly too warm,

“Then what are you saying, König? What do the words mean?”

Oh fuck.

“I-I can’t say…” His eyes were darting everywhere but yours,

“Either you tell me right now, or this is the last time I’ll ever work with you.”

Fuck.

“It’s- they’re not- scheiße- they’re not insults, liebling, they’re-” he sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose, “terms of endearment.” He said the last part so quietly, you almost didn’t hear him.

“Oh… well, that’s different. Why didn’t you say so when I asked the first time?” You walked to him, approaching him slowly, your tone significantly more gentle. His eyes flicked to yours for a split second before darting away again, and then it hit you. “Oh. I… think I understand now.”

But because König was so focused on looking away from you, he didn’t see the grin that split your face, or the blush that dusted your cheeks, or the beautiful sparkle in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, lieb- sergeant, it’s incredibly out of line and horrifically inappropriate, please try to put it out of your mind. I don’t know what I was thinking, I was so rude-”

“König, hey, please stop for just a second.” He didn’t realize you were right in front of him and almost died of the fright, lest his humiliation take him first. You stood up on the tips of your toes and held the sides of his face, angling him to look at you, giving him no room for escape,

“What if I don’t what to put it out of my mind?”

“Schatz, what are you saying?” His voice was trembling ever so slightly, his large hands coming up to encompass yours,

“I’m saying, maybe you can keep calling me terms of endearment because maybe I’d like to do the same for you.”

“Are you sure?” He was breathless, his heart was a booming thunderstorm in his chest as his hands so delicately took yours held them. His thumbs stroking over the knuckles, already committing every scar and every bump to memory. He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, lightheaded and dizzy in the most beautiful way possible.

“Never been more sure in my life.” Your smile was as blinding as the sun, and he’d never been more sure that everything in his life lead up to this exact moment. It didn’t matter that you were with the 141 and that eventually you had to go back, it didn’t matter that you were out in the field hunkered down in a safe house, nothing else mattered but you.

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 18]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

"Hwa hwa, you know I love you the most, right?" You threw your arms around the male, hugging him with a sweetest grin that you could muster. Seonghwa raised an eyebrow as he stared at you, more like glared at you.

"Yeah right. The only time (y/n) tells Seonghwa hyung she loves him is to get out of trouble." Jongho snorted.

"Shut up, Jongho." You hissed.

"Be nice." Seonghwa hit the back of your head, making you sulk. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity, Wooyoung wrapped his arms around your waist to back hug you.

"Woo~" You squirmed. Seonghwa sighed, stroking your head. He knew that you already knew what he was going to say.

"Are you tired?" He asked.

"Not at all. It was nice and relaxing. I needed this, to keep myelf busy." You looked up at him. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho knew what you meant.

"Plus, Yunho is good company." You added. All 3 boys looked up at Yunho, who was just standing there, trying to eavesdrop and watch what was happening without being noticed. He blinked when he realised that all the stared were at him. Embarrassed that they knew he was there, he cleared his throat.

"He made sure I sat down to rest after. And you! You're interfering with my coffee drinking! Even made sweet innocent Yunho turn against me." You raised a hand to hit Seonghwa.

"I-I made her a h-hot chocolate." Yunho confirmed, a little flustered to hear you call him 'sweet' and 'innocent'.

"Good. Now let's get to work." Seonghwa said, patting your head and completely ignoring you.

"I only need to fill my pasta. I'm letting my galbi and broth simmer for as long as I can let it. My garnishes and toppings are prepared." You told them.

"I'll start on apps with you?" Jongho offered. You nodded, about to walk when you noticed Wooyoung still latched to your waist.

"Wooyoung! Let me go." You patted his back. He puckered his lips in a pout before he unwillingly let you go.

You wore your apron again and went to wash your knife. This night was slightly different. With everyone working on their own dish, there wasn't a clear sous, prep or head chef. All of you just split the shared tasks while working on your own.

"Oh, wait. Let me check on the ice cream." You put your knife down and went to churners to check the consistency of the ice cream. Once they were done, you put them in the freezer.

"What's for dessert?" Yunho asked.

"That was smoked milk and vanilla ice cream. We're serving that with red bean jelly cubes, pieces of injeolmi rice cake and an almond tuile."

"Like flavours of patbingsoo but elevated." Seonghwa informed. You nodded in confirmation.

"For Western dessert, we're doing a burnt white chocolate panna cotta with raspberry swirl meringues, a passionfruit coolis and fresh mango cubes over." Jongho added.

"That sounds really nice. But burnt white chocolate?" Yunho leaned forward on his hands.

"Well, not burnt. More caramelised. White chocolate on its own is very sweet. But cook it until it becomes brown and caramelised, the flavour is a lot better and easier to balance." Wooyoung explained. Yunho nodded in interest. You continued working on the appetisers with Jongho.

"Hweh crudo. Take the marinated fish slices and roll it up with pea shoots, scallions and shredded perilla leaf. Minari (Water dropwort) jeon." You listed.

"We need to prep gujeolpan (plate with small wraps and 9 delicacy toppings)." Jongho reminded.

"Right. Then the confit tomatoes with pickles." You checked.

"I'll do the roasted eggplant with black olive doenjang and ponzu. Almost done here." Wooyoung voiced out as he worked on his dish at his bench. The door opened, the others entering.

"We're here early to help!" San declared loudly with his arms raised. Hongjoong and Yeosang shushed him.

"You can help us with the appetisers. Get aprons and wash your hands." You said.

The 4 main kitchen crew took turns. After Seonghwa and Wooyoung stepped in to guide those that didn't know their way around the kitchen, you and Jongho could work on your mains.

"Yunho, want to help me with my pasta?" You asked. Yunho's head shot up, looking for where you were in the kitchen before leaving Mingi and his task to go to you. He smiled excitedly as he bounded over like a puppy.

"So we need to shred the meat for the pasta. This is the galbi. Take two forks and pull them apart." You demonstrated.

"I can do that! And that smells so good." He pointed to the galbi. Grabbing a tasting spoon, you let him indulge in a bite. But soon, you had others around.

"Hey!" Yunho protested as you fed San, Mingi, Yeosang and Hongjoong too.

"Alright, get back to work." He scolded them. You stayed beside Yunho, rolling out the pasta dough.

"You don't need to shred every single piece entirely. You can leave them in different size pieces." You told Yunho. He nodded with a hum, sneaking a bite before continuing.

"Stop stealing the food." You scolded him with a laugh. Yunho grinned cheekily.

"I want to do Yunho's job too." Hongjoong whined.

"No! It's my job." Yunho barked back. He liked working with you, like your personal sous chef. Yunho watched you measured the dough with a ruler and cut it. You took bites of meat that Yunho had already shredded and placed it in the middle before closing it, joining the ends together.

"Ooh, can I try?" Yunho asked with sparkling eyes. You nodded and Yunho put the forks down temporarily for you to slowly demonstrate how to fold the pasta dough.

"Not too much filling or it'll burst." You advised.

"Yeah, just like that. Press the two ends." You leaned over to see Yunho's one.

"I'll finish up here and continue that." He smiled proudly, putting it aside before finishing his previous job of shredding the meat. Once he was done, he helped you fold the pasta.

"I'm not as fast as you." He pouted.

"You just started. I would already say you're already doing a great job." You smiled.

"Thank you." Yunho blushed from your compliment. He continued to make the pasta with you. You momentarily stepped away to check the seolleongtang broth that was bubbling away on the stove, giving it a taste to make sure it was getting there.

"How is it?" Yunho asked when you stepped back into your original spot. You looked up at him and nodded, telling him how the progress of the stock has been.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, there were a few sets of eyes staring at the two of you chat in your little corner. It was like you were in your own bubble, smiling as you chatted and made the pasta together.

"That's cute." Wooyoung noted. Yeosang nodded in agreement. Hongjoong let out an affectionate chuckle.

"They're in their own world over there." San chuckled.

"They're just talking, how is that cute?" Mingi blinked, completely missing what everyone was talking about. Hongjoong patted Mingi's shoulder sympathetically.

"It's okay not to get it, Mingi ah." Hongjoong chuckled. Seonghwa stared for a second, unknowingly clenching his jaw.

"Seonghwa hyung?" Jongho called out, breaking his brain fog. The look Jongho cast him, Seonghwa knew he had been caught spiralling in his brain. He was reminding the elder that he wasn't alone in the room. Clearing his throat, Seonghwa focussed on the cutting baord in the front of him.

"We're done here. Anyone need help on anything?" You came back to the center of the kitchen where everyone was still working.

"Appetisers are almost done. Do you want to start the dessert components with me?" Seonghwa asked you in a gentle voice. You nodded your head.

"Let's get the panna cottas in the fridge to set." You both went to get the ingredients from the walk in and pantry.

"Thanks for all the help, guys. But if you need to go prepare the front for tonight. Just go ahead, we've got it handled." You said to the 5.

"We should bring in the washed plates for tonight." Yeosang said. He and San went out to bring the plates in for the kitchen crew to use to plate the food on.

"Who is working the pass tonight?" You asked.

"I can be the main. But we'll have to rotate from time to time." Wooyoung volunteered.

"Sure. Just tap out when you need someone to take over." Seonghwa and Jongho agreed. With a small crew, this was how you had to make things work. You couldn't afford to have one person just at one station the whole night.

Soon, the crew that works the front of the restaurant all were busy trying to set up for the night, leaving only a few in the ktichen to work with your kitchen crew.

"Actually, Mingi. I would love to speak with your mother about cooking eels, preparing and procuring them." You said.

"I'm sure she'll be happy to share that knowledge with you, (y/n). She loves talking about food." He chuckled.

"Maybe she can give me her eel supplier. I would love to explore it as an ingredient more. Surprisingly, I have not been that exposed to working with it." You sighed.

"My mum's the right person to go to then. I should bring you to the restaurant one day." He replied.

"I'd love that." You had a small smile on your face.

"Let's cook the staff meal first. I have feeling we might end later than we usually do and we'll be too tired to cook for ourselves then." Seonghwa suggested. You checked the clock, about to decide what to whip up quickly for everyone but San and Mingi came over, volunteering to cook.

"You guys are busy enough. We'll take over and cook something up." San smiled.

"Thanks, guys." You, Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho were very grateful that they stepped up and volunteered. San and Mingi were the best cooks out of the 5 so you weren't too worried.

"Shall we make curry rice?" Mingi suggested, holding the cubes of Korean curry up.

"I know how to make that." San laughed. The two began chopping vegetables, adding whatever meat they could find.

"Is anyone using these?" San came out of the walk in with a few packs of chicken thighs and sliced pork belly in his hands. You all shook your heads.

"I'll cook the rice. You start slicing the meat." Mingi instructed and went to get the rice cooker. The 4 of you made sure to be around them in case the two needed help. But San and Mingi were confident, they didn't want to ask for help.

"Mingi, sorry. Just a few minutes. Yunho needs another tall person to help." Hongjoong poked his head into the kitchen.

"Coming." Mingi went out.

"Hi, (y/n)ie." San smiled when you moved opposite him to check on the pasta that you made with Yunho earlier. You chuckled at the casual way he called you.

"Hi, Sannie." You returned the greeting. San looked up in surprise but smiled nonetheless, his dimple popping through.

"So are you excited for your parents to come tonight?" You asked him. He nodded.

"My parents live rather far in the countryside but when they visit, it is always a treat. I hope my older sister comes too. I miss all of them." San said.

"They must be really nice."

"They are. They treat everyone like their family." He laughed. You wondered what it must be like to have such a warm, welcoming family. Maybe your family would have been like that if your mother was still around. But even then, your father was someone that never liked you and your mother to be too friendly to others.

"(y/n)." Seonghwa called you. You looked up to see Seonghwa nodding over to where he was. Shooting San a small smile, you went over to him.

"Okay?" He whispered as you stood beside him. You let out a small hum, helping him with the dessert.

-

After a quick dinner, the kitchen was bustling for dinner service. You knew the parents came when the boys were all greeting them loudly and excitedly in the dining room.

"Hey." Yunho came in with all the parents behind him. You all stood up, bowing respectfully. He introduced whose parents were whose and the family members. Yunho's younger brother looked like him.

"Please, don't let us bother you. Or interrupt your flow." Mrs Song chuckled, waving a hand. She knew what it was like working in the kitchen, owning her own restaurant. You all returend to your food prep tasks.

"I'm Wooyoung. That's Seonghwa hyung, Jongho and (y/n)." Wooyoung, who was the closest, introduced all of you.

"(y/n). The head." Even if you were not looking at them, you felt all eyes fall on you. Jongho nodded at you, assuring that he could handle it. You straightened up and walked over.

"Nice to meet you." You bowed to them.

"Omo. You're so pretty." All the mothers flocked to you, cooing at you affectionately. You grew flustered, unsure of what to do or how to react.

"Okay, ommas. Let's give her some space." Yunho cut in, separating them from you. The fathers merely chuckled, shaking their heads while the mothers scolded Yunho.

"How talented you are. I heard you've been in many reputable kitchens at your age." Mrs Jeong said sweetly, holding your hand.

"Ah, no... It's all just for experience. I'm thankful for all the opportunities given to me." You gave an awkward smile. Yunho cleared his throat and his mother pulled away, shooting her son a look. You bowed your head and went back to help, not wanting to leave the others on their own for long.

"Alright, we shall let them get back to work. Let's go back out." Yunho ushered all of them out of the kitchen. He let a sigh, hoping his mother didn't scare you too much.

"What happened?" Mingi asked.

"Our mothers were smothering (y/n)." Yunho rolled his eyes as the parents took their seats.

"Hyung, (y/n) and those guys are so talented. Why would they want to work for you?" Gunho asked. Yunho shot his younger brother a flat look while Mr Jeong nudged his youngest son.

"Because I am an amazing boss, okay?" Yunho scoffed.

"Mmm, sure." Yeosang coughed. Hongjoong handed out the menus to the parents for them to see what they would like to order.

"Omma, order (y/n)'s dish. I helped make it." Yunho leaned over, pointing to which dish you made on the menu. Mrs Jeong nodded with a hum.

"Hyung helped make it? I'm so not going to order it." Gunho shook his head. Mingi snickered, reaching over to hi-five him. Yunho threatened to hit them. But in the presence of other customers, he wasn't going to.

"Order coming in for the VIP tables." Wooyoung warned as he started to read off the order slips that were coming through.

"Let's go." You all began to work on the appetisers together that would be served first. Wooyoung, at the pass, would finish up with sauces and garnishes before sending the plate out to be served.

"Service." Wooyoung put the plates out for the other boys to bring out to the table.

"Let's start getting ready for mains so we can fire once they are done with apps. In case we need to float." You said to everyone.

"How is it going in here?" Yunho came into the kitchen. You were straining your seolleongtang stock, getting it ready to plate the mains later.

"How are the appetisers?" Seonghwa asked, setting up his oven smoker with the tea leaves for his duck.

"Oh, they love it. Every single dish, I had to stop them from ordering seconds before the mains. But at least they're all excited for the mains now." Yunho grinned proudly. When you were done, you helped Jongho with setting up his binchotan grill for the cod fillets. Yunho came over to you.

"Need help?"

"No, we're good here. You should go out and be with your parents. In case they need anything." You put a hand on his arm. Yunho pouted but nodded, obediently leaving the kitchen.

"We can start firing the mains." Wooyoung said, having observed the dining room from his position at the pass.

"Gunho looks like Yunho. A younger version." You chuckled as you took the pasta out of the boiling water. You missed the odd look that your friends shot you.

"Cuter?" Jongho asked, wanting to add fuel to the fire.

"Maybe." You shrugged.

"What?!" The door burst open and Yunho yelled in disbelief, making you all jump in shock. Hongjoong, who was outside, bowed in apology to the surprised customers before hurriedly pushing Yunho in the kitchen.

"Geez, Yunho! There are customers! You can't just suddenly yell like that." He scolded in a hiss before exiting to return to the dining room.

"Yunho, don't do that. You're disrupting customers and it's not safe where we're working with knives here." You frowned.

"Wait, do you seriously think Gunho is cuter than me?" Yunho planted his hand on the counter, blocking your way with his body. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho snickered.

"Does it matter? Now, I need to plate my dish." You said, walking around him to go to the plates.

"Yes, it matters to me!" Yunho threw a tantrum, stomping his food as he whined.

"(y/n)~" He whined when he realised that you were ignoring him. You plated each pasta on each plate, making sure the positions of each pasta was accurate and similar. He leaned down in front of you.

"(y/n), tell me I'm cuter than Gunho." He said. You rolled your eyes, patting his head to pacify him then walking to get the seolleongtang into a jug so you could pour it over the pasta. Yunho sulked, following you around like a puppy with separation anxiety. You poured the broth over, garnishing with two oils.

"Pass me the egg garnish." You instructed. Yunho sighed but handed the containers for you to put the garnishes over.

"Bring these out for service, will you?" You told him and went to prepare the other portions. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho called the others for service too.

"Yah. Don't just stand there. Keep moving." Mingi clicked his tongue as he carried the dishes in his hands.

"We might have a little lull time before dessets." Wooyoung said.

"(y/n). Tell me I'm better than Gunho." Yunho came in again, still pushing his agenda. You raised an eyebrow at him. He was seriously a pouty puppy.

"I don't know Gunho well enough to know if you're truly better than him. That's biased." You pointed out.

"True." San, who overheard, voiced in agreement. Yunho whipped around, glaring at San.

"Get out." He pointed at the door. San scoffed and rolled his eyes before going out. Turning back around, Yunho saw that you had slipped away. You were still doing the few orders for mains and appetisers that came in.

"Service." You handed the plates to Wooyoung. Yeosang came in to take them out to the dining room. Seonghwa and Jongho also served what they finished working on. Yunho brought them out.

"Let's take 5." Seonghwa suggested. You stepped out the back door for a breather. Yunho came back to find you missing.

"I'm just taking a breather, Yunho." You said when he stepped out of the back door.

"I know." He said, taking a seat beside you on the stoop. With his body practically brushing against yours, you didn't move away uncomfortably. You sat there in silence.

"Why were you so adament on me thinking you're better than Gunho? It doesn't matter what I think." You asked with a chuckle.

"No, it matters to me." Yunho said firmly.

"Why?"

"Because you can't like Gunho. I want to be the only one that you like." He frowned.

~

Series masterlist

[queerregulusablack]

“I guess I’m just... trying to make sense of it.”

James lifted his head, no longer lounging quite so dramatically where he was splayed out on the floor of Regulus’ bedroom; and found the younger boy watching him, turned sideways in his desk chair while he pressed his mouth against the arm he had draped across the back.

“Is there all that much to make sense of?” James asked, conjuring a wry grin as he held his eyes. “It feels pretty simple to me.”

“You didn’t watch yourself chase Lily Evans for five years, only to find you suddenly losing interest in her right as she seemed to notice you back. And I’m not a mind reader, Jamie, I can’t...”

His brow furrowed, familiar irritation crossing his face, and James levered himself to his feet, before he approached the chair, and then coaxed Regulus out of it, pulling him across the room so he could perch on the edge of his ridiculous bed and get him situated in James’ lap instead.

“I liked Lily; I’ll give you that. It was a little kid kind of like, especially at the start, but I did like her. But I’m allowed to change my mind, aren’t I? And I already think I’m making much better choices, liking someone who’s actually interested in return for a change.”

He watched the way Regulus caught at his bottom lip with his teeth, dragging the plush swell of it into his mouth to worry at; and James nosed in against his throat, and kissed him softly while he moved both hands to pull Regulus’ hair free of its braid.

The younger boy didn’t speak again until it was all loose, and James was running his fingers through the silk-smooth fall of it greedily.

“What if you change your mind back, though?”

It was barely audible, whisper soft and half buried in James’ shoulder where he’d tilted his head obligingly to welcome the neck kisses; and James pulled back so he could meet his eyes, and frown back at him.

Regulus’ expression was soft and vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed himself to be - certainly not outside his room, certainly not with anyone outside his brother and their small group of close friends - and James murmured his name softly before he lifted a hand to set against his cheek, cupping his face gently and smoothing his thumb over the high arch of it.

“That’s not going to happen. I’m mad about you in a way it’s actually hard to put into words, Regulus Black, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Regulus’ smile at that was a tiny, fleeting thing, and James smiled back at him. “But because I know that’s not enough for you, a hypothetical; if it ever did happen, and I felt like I was falling out of love with you, or in love with someone else, we’d talk about it. I’d tell you, okay? I’d never just drop you and move on, love, and you know I wouldn’t.”

Regulus shut his eyes, and turned his face to hide more effectively in James’ palm; but he nodded, and James tapped his thumb gently against the point of his nose before he slipped his fingers back into his hair instead, and pressed in to kiss along the sharp, elegant line of his jaw.

So much of Regulus was sharp edges. Between the angled, bird-bone fragile beauty of him and the spiky façade he put up around other people, his tongue and sense of humour keen like the edge of a knife, proximity to him always seemed to threaten to make you bleed.

It was how James had thought of him a year ago, when he was just Sirius’ solemn little brother. It was how he thought of himself, James had come to realise; like a cactus, with too many thorns for the flowers to be worth it.

These days James knew better; and he kissed up his lovely sharp jaw, over his high cheekbones, down the bridge of his straight, daintily-pointed nose, until he could finally press a kiss to the soft, sweet fullness of his mouth.

Regulus melted against him, arms wrapping around his shoulders, sighing sweetly into his mouth as James kissed him; and James knew, with all the certainty in the world, that all those sharp edges were a shell around a terribly soft interior.

If Regulus was sharp, he was sharp in the way a glass sculpture might be, once it had been dropped a couple of times.

His edges were shattered, sheared down to points from how often he’d been treated without the care he deserved. But he was both delicate and fire-forged at the same time, and- and-

And that was where the metaphor always fell apart, James supposed, because glass sculptures were rarely full of marshmallow fluff the way his Reg was; but the point stood.

Regulus had been fooled into thinking he was hard to love, over and over and over again. He’d been made to believe than the effort it took to love him was never worth the reward. That he was a bramble patch without fruit behind his thorns.

These days, James knew that loving Regulus was effortless once you actually bothered to try; and he kissed him, and ran blunt nails over his scalp at the base of his skull so he’d purr, and slipped his other hand under the back of his tshirt so he’d bite him, gently, in a reprimand he didn’t mean, and felt struck a little silly with just how easy it was.

Loving Lily had been easy to start, too, but most things were when you were eleven. At eighteen, very little felt this natural from the start; and he would clutch the feeling in both hands for as long as he was able.

“You can trust me, Regulus. I promise you can trust me. There’s no changing my mind about you, okay?”

He murmured the words against Regulus’ lips, and punctuated them with another kiss, and a firm caress of his thumb down the bumps of his spine at the small of his back.

Regulus looked back at him, grey eyes flicking between James’ like he was searching for something; before he smiled, and relaxed in his arms, and combed fingers back through the thick mess of James’ hair.

“I’m going to hold you to that promise, James Potter,” he assured him; and James grinned, and kissed him again.

(for @stonedregulus)

[youaintnothinbuta]

austin - missin’ her daddy

Summary: your daughter has had a bad day and just misses her daddy.

Pairing: dad!austin x mama!reader

Word count: 430

Warnings: dad!austin, fluff, sliiight suggestion of sex 

MASTERLIST

A/N: just pretend the gif isn’t Austin!Elvis and it’s just Austin and that she’s like 5 instead of a toddler thank you 😩

______________________

You had just got your son and daughter from school, buckling your daughters car seat for her as your son did his own. Before you could even ask how their days went, your daughter absolutely exploded into a mess of screaming and crying and yelling for her daddy. She’d always been a daddy’s girl, from the day she was born. You didn’t mind, your son was more of a mama’s boy so it evened out.

“Where’s daddy? I want daddy! I want daddy, mama!” Along with many other screams containing similar wording left your daughters mouth. You felt terrible, her teacher had informed you she’d had a pretty exhausting day and did incredibly well not have a tantrum in class at all, despite it being obvious she really needed to.

“Daddy’s at home, cooking dinner, okay baby? You’ll see him soon.” You cooed, your son also trying his best to calm his little sister, very much taking after his dad.

The drive home was tense to put it lightly, you silently admired your son for trying his best to help his sister instead of joining her with the screaming and carrying on. You pulled into the driveway, your son unbuckled himself and ran to the front door, waiting for you to unlock it. You picked your daughter up to get her out of the car and held her hand as you closed the car door, walking her to the front door. The second the lock clicked open, your daughter dropped your hand and sprinted as fast as her little legs would carry her to her daddy, screaming as tears ran down her burning cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart. Come here.” He cooed, instantly he put down the knife he was holding to cut veggies and picked her up, holding her on his hip as she cried against him. ‘That’s gotta hurt the throat’ he thought as her held his daughter, who was in total hysterics in his arms. You soon emerged into the kitchen, placing the kids school bags down, looking somewhat defeated.

He gave you a concerned look as if to say what happened?

“She’s just had an exhausting day, her teacher said she’s been asking for you all day. But she was an angel and didn’t even have a tantrum in class.” You replied, praising her for being so well behaved.

“Is that right, princess?” He asked her, gently moving her blonde locks out the way of her eyes with a finger. She nodded against his face.

“I’m sorry. Daddy’s got you now, it’s okay. Do you want to eat dinner in your pyjamas? Would that make you feel a bit better?”

“Mhm.” She nodded, wiping her own tears messily.

“Okay, let’s go get you changed. Tell mama you love her first, for me.”

“I love you, mama.” She reached out to you for a hug and a kiss on the cheek, Austin still holding onto her bottom half, making you both chuckle.

“Daddy loves you, too, mama.” He smiled and kissed you rather passionately before taking her upstairs to her bedroom to get her into some warmer, comfier clothes. He turned to shoot you a quick glance as he took your daughter out of the kitchen, a glance that said ‘I’m gonna rid you of all that stress the second these kids are asleep tonight.’ making you chuckle at him as he raised an eyebrow at you, confirming you knew what he meant and then exiting out of sight.

You sighed as he wandered upstairs, so grateful for how much of an amazing dad he was, so much so you even heard a giggle come from her, wondering how he’d managed to do that, as she was screaming at the top of her lungs just 5 minutes earlier.

[zombiewhor3]

WAKE UP

rick grimes x fem reader (carl grimes featured)

WARNINGS: mentions of walkers, implications of character death, mentions of character almost dying, angst, (no actual character death), mentions of Shane, fem reader.

-

she watched him limp as the boy ahead of them seemed to ignore as his father called out for him to slow down. y/n held her and Rick's bag on her back and shoulder so he wouldn't limp as much.

Once they reached the door of the house y/n had knocked harshly with her fist maybe to see if there were any walkers inside or near around the house they stood at.

she could see some of the paint chipping on the door and she was almost startled at the sound of a walker planting it's hand against the glass of the window pressing its face against it.

"stay here Carl, i'll clear it" he had given an order and they both knew it was what he wanted, they knew that he believed he was strong enough to do this on his own and maybe he was but not now.

not with the limp in his leg from being shot and not with the dehydration and the hunger that spread inside him.

"we can't let you do it alone, you can barely stand on your own Rick" she spoke up against him seeing as his son nodded in an agreement, slipping out his own gun from his holster.

she could see the furrow in his brows as he took it as maybe a sign of them calling him weak, he rubbed over some of the stubble from his beard and looked at the two in front of him.

"we'll help you clear it, it's nothing new just like the prison" Carl spoke watching his father hesitantly take in a sharp deep breath looking over at his girlfriend who he could tell was about to speak.

"let me do it myself" he spoke abruptly, he could feel a hand rubbing on his shoulder and he had finally made up his mind looking at the two of them so eager to help him, to help their group.

The door squeaked open with a crack and just enough y/n was able to place a knife in the walker's fleshy skull hearing it thud and drop to the ground with a sudden plop.

they could hear more rasping coming from up the stairs and Rick had placed a firm hand on Carl's chest looking over as y/n gripped onto her knife and tried her best to be quiet on the stairs.

she could hear the rasping and growling coming from behind a door, scratching and clawing to get out the walker was desperate, so desperate just for its next meal.

she used her foot to barge open the door and she could see it was a women, not to old but dressed in a night gown. Without even a struggle she easy had killed the walker and took a deep breath in.

she opened each of the other doors with a pre-caution making sure that there had been anymore that were lurking around inside the house. And once it was all clear and walker free she made her way down the stair case and tossed her bag onto the kitchen table.

she watched and heard as cabinets were torn apart and searched for any trace of food or water they could get, Carl smiled as he held up a box of Cereal taking a glance at his father and y/n.

"kitchen wasn't empty" he spoke shoving it into his bag along with a can of creamed corn that was dented slightly, he made his way up into the house admiring the windows and all the rooms inside.

He had ventured his way around the house amazed but the sights it had given to him, yet he could feel his fathers eyes burning into him with each and every move he made. when he tried opening a door to a guest bathroom his hand was grabbed.

"don't there could be walkers in there" Rick huffed feeling his son harshly pull away his hand from his grasp, he huffed and took a look at his father before banging his fist against the wall.

y/n sat in the living room, her feet propped up on the coffee table while she had been eating a can of whatever the hell she had managed to scavange from the cabinets of the kitchen.

she was startled by the noise of loud banging and the sound of Carl yelling, "Hey asshole! Hey shit face!"

he yelled making y/n rapidly put down the can on the coffee table and she made her way up the stair case and into the guest bedroom.

"Watch your mouth!" She heard Rick lecture at his son and she was like a deer in headlights frozen at the glimpse of them staring at her.

Carl had opened the door to show there was nothing inside, and instead of even a word slipping from his father's mouth he made his way from the bedroom and back into the living room.

-

the couch was slammed against the door and Carl looked at his father un amused by the situation, "it's fine i tied the door shut" Carl remarked hearing Rick reply dully,

"we don't need to take any chances besides this is fine for tonight it'll have to do anyways because we have no other choice"

"what you don't think it'll hold? it's a clove hitch. Shane taught me it. Do you remember him?" Carl could feel the bitter question slip right off his tongue and he wasn't even sure if he felt sorry about it.

y/n swallowed harshly and looked down at the floor, "carl" she managed to croak out to him knowing that his words were eating up his own father inside.

"i remember him , i think about him everyday god damn day. Now anything else you want to say to me son?" Rick pressed the couch against the door one more time before he untied and slipped off his boots setting them beside the couch.

y/n did the same and pulled off her flannel leaving her in a tank top, she watched Rick lay back on the couch and she snuggled up to him, her head on his chest while he stroked her hair.

she watched as Carl made his way up the stairs, his boots clomping against the wood so loud like it was intentional just to piss his father off, just to get his father going.

"what am i going to do?" he asked poking his tongue into the side of his inner cheek, he could hear the woman on her chest take a deep breath in as she adjusted herself so that she could look at him.

"he's a teenager and he's worried Rick. maybe he's scared and doesn't want to show it." she presumed all of what she said to be honest, she could understand how Carl was feeling.

the feeling of losing their home and losing people that they cared about, she understood the toll that it seemed to have on him.

"you are a good dad, one of the best fathers in the world" she spoke the truth even if he felt that it was a pity set of words only used to make him feel better and to chase away his feelings.

he smiled at her looking to see her head resting back against his chest, he closed his eyes and seemed to wrap his arms around her even tighter than he ever had.

-

she looked around to see she was still laying on Rick's chest, his arms had slipped to the side and one of his hands dangled from off of the couch. She gently slipped away trying not to disturb his peace after all this was the first he had slept in days.

she made her way into the kitchen seeing as Carl stood holding a can of opened chocolate pudding, "where the hell did you find that?" she chuckled placing a seat at the table.

"in another house down the street" he replied as he filled a spoonful of the dessert in his mouth and shrugged his shoulders at her, he watched her smile drop and her brows furrow softly.

"i'm sorry another house? but we didn't go to another house Carl" her tone became sharper and her voice more forceful, still in a whisper not to wake the man who was sleeping.

"i did, i snuck out from the window when you guys were still asleep and i went scavenging for supplies, and look at me i'm still okay. i don't need him" he remarked at her and she shook her head at him.

"do you know how dangerous that is?! Carl what if you weren't okay? What if you got bit? or what if someone else was out there?"

she was angry but more worried for his safety than anything, she had practically jumped up from the table to eye him for maybe any visible bruises or bites or scratches that he could've gotten.

"but i didn't! I didn't get bit or hurt! i can do things on my own, i don't need you and my father babying me all the time" he raised his voice at her and she pressed her hands against the table leaning against it while she took in a deep breath.

" we're not babying you, its to keep you safe because out there it's dangerous and you know that. You've seen how dangerous it is. you can't make stupid decisions not after everything that's happened"

she almost had tears in her eyes just thinking of losing him after Rick had felt the guilt of losing Judith during the war at the prison, he had practically been eating himself up inside as he tried to swallow the guilt that was overwhelming him.

Carl hadn't said anything but instead he gave a soft nod at the woman who had patted him on the shoulder before she stepped back into the living room to check on the still asleep man.

he had been asleep and it seemed as if he wasn't even bothered by the loud commotion Carl and y/n had caused in the kitchen the two of them caused over the disagreement.

she checked her watch and seeing as it was around 1 o'clock it would be the perfect time to get on the road because they couldn't stay here anymore, they couldn't stay in this place because it wasn't safe.

there was no supplies, no way to signal for walkers and they were alone with just the three of them and both of the boys were out of bullets in their guns.

she shook his shoulder softly and whispered his name, with not even a gesture or response she shook him again this time harder and she watched his body shake a little waiting for at least maybe a groan or a flicker of his eyes opening but there was nothing.

she figured he was playing a joke on her, that he was going to eventually crack a smile at her as if he was trying to fake the idea of sleeping just to get her to crawl back with him

"it's not funny Rick seriously now get up we have to go" she pushed him harder and she could feel her heart sink when she realized that maybe he wasn't actually playing some dumb prank on her.

she started to shake him even harder and quite faster now, "Rick please, wake up" she pleaded at him and his eyes still were closed his body still limp and she could hear him lightly breathing.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" she yelled as she had taken a cushion from the couch and roughly hit him with it, still he remained with his silent breathing and not even an expression.

Carl had stepped into the living room his hand on the knife as he had a visble confusion on his face as to why y/n was yelling at him,

he was also confused by the fact that his father hadn't been waking up by her multiple attempts of her shaking him and hitting him with the pillow, he watched her swallow harshly as she took a look at him.

she had tears streaming down her face and a lump in her throat that was impossible to try to swallow back once more, she held onto his hand using two of her fingers to feel that he still had a pulse.

she wondered if the damage from getting the shit beat out of him by the governor had an impact. she wondered if he was in a coma, or if he was dying or maybe he was just brain dead.

she could see Carl and the tears he had in the orbs of his eyes, he tried to force his father to wake with his own attempt of a yell and a shove but it was still nothing other than the slight breathing and rise of his chest that he got back.

y/n dropped his hand and let it dangle from the couch as she pulled away the now crying boy away from Rick, "what's wrong with him?!" he asked rapidly and this time she didn't have an answer

because she truly didn't know what was wrong with him, she didn't have the answer this time and now it was eating her up. It was eating her up because she couldn't seem to calm Carl.

she couldn't seem to settle the boy with the pity of 'everything was going to be okay' because she didn't know, she didn't know whether Rick was going to wake up or if he was going to turn into one of those flesh eating monsters that were out there.

they were both crying and Carl seemed to plead a sorry, he hadn't really meant that he didn't need his dad or the fact that he had practically begged for independence to get away from his father.

it was like a curse from the universe that had seemed to twist his words into something even worse, he didn't want his father to die, he wanted his father to wake up from whatever the hell this was.

"why isn't he waking up?!" his voice cracked and this time y/n didn't have an answer because she was in just as much shock as he was, she was just as upset and confused as the boy in her arms.

she slipped off his hat and placed it onto the floor next to them so she could stroke over the top of his head and try to rock him into a settle state just to calm him down.

"i don't know Carl, i don't know" she replied softly and she could feel him squirm in her arms as he still tried to crawl back to his father but something inside of her couldn't seem to let him go from her arms.

he had softly said her name, a gentle call out for her to just let him go but now she was the one frozen in the state of wanting to give up because without Rick her whole world was gone.

she felt like she was almost about to sink into her own phase of a deep slumber just from her exhaustion and the emotions that had been pouring out of her for all this time, she was tired from the way her lungs kept gasping for air each time she felt like they were closing from panic, and she was tired of losing people.

-

she jumped up at the sound of hearing him groan even if it was small and weak it still made her heart jolt,

his hand moved softly against her back to settle her because he could tell that something had spooked her from her half awake state.

it was him who spooked her into opening her eyes, it was a shabby breath he let out and now it was the movement of his hands that slipped underneath her tank and out on the tender skin of her back.

he rubbed his coarse palms to soothe her and it almost felt un real, it almost felt like a fever dream or maybe just one hell of a miracle that he had seemed to waken up from whatever the hell he was in.

"oh god Rick" she clutched his shirt bawling her fists and burying her face into the crook of his neck to make sure that this was all real, to make sure that he wasn't going anywhere.

she had tears flowing against him, "whats going on y/n? talk to me" he spoke in such a worried manner that it made her own heart race even more at the fact he had no clue what was going on.

"you were out for two days and Carl and i were so worried i didn't know what to do Rick" her hands gripped at the fabric of his clothes and she watched him blink slowly as he swallowed in what she said.

"you wouldn't move and i waited, i waited with my knife because i thought you were going to turn" it made her ache just explaining what she had done in the time of his slumber,

the way she was so afraid and the way she had a hand tight;y gripping the handle of her knife ready to use it if he had turned into one of those things that filled the streets.

if he turned into a rotten piece of flesh that tried to kill them, one who was nothing but filled with violence and chomping teeth that always couldn't seem to get enough of human flesh.

"i'm here" he assured her and he could feel her breathing start to slow down each and every time he hummed those two words to her because it was all she needed to here. it was all she needed to keep herself going was that he was here.

he hummed them again and again until finally his son had stepped into the room rubbing his eyes to see that his father was awake and that this wasn't just some fever dream.

without even a doubt or hesitation Rick had Carl by his side, wrapping his arms around him taking in a deep sigh for the scare that he had given them from the amount of time he was asleep.

"it's okay. we're okay"

[agi-ppangx]

hello, hello, we meet again for a new idea of a ff. (atp I think I deserve an emoji or smth, so you can know it's me bcs get used to me giving you ideas. you write too beautifully to not have requests, I'm sorry. P.S.: js recommended you to a few friends and to my girlfriend and they all congratulated your skills of writing!💕)

anyway, what do you feel about an enemies to lovers trope with lee know? reader's a trainee (dancing is her speciality) and she is the first one to break the trainee record of being the fastest trainee to learn the basic JYP entertainment moves in 4 weeks, which she was very proud of. This until a new trainee comes, Lee minho, who learns the moves in 2 weeks, breaking reader's record. This gets reader annoyed and works even harder to prove the people around that she is a better dancer than him. They never talk, only rarely mocking each other when the other one wasn't around.

Then, it comes the Survival Show (im sorry - not really - but im changing the shows's rules. there will be two teams, FEMALE 2TEAM - made with Yeji, Yuna, Chaeryeong, Ryujin, Somi and reader - and MALE 2TEAM - we already know the contestants for this team- which will create then a group of people who didn't get eliminated. the elimination happens every episode, two people leaving) where the two of them have to work together in order to create the perfect balance for the choreography between the two teams. That's how they start getting along better and actually realize that they could be friends. They still had arguments but never something too big. When it was time for the elimination in episode 4, minho, reader and yuna were om the verge of elimination. However, only reader didn't get eliminated. Tears in everyone's eyes as minho and Yuna leave the set, but reader soon understands that it was minho's place to be in the boy group. She talks to JYP about being a bad idea the fact that it will be a mix group and that she prefers not to be involved in such a drama, in order to get minho back in the team. she succeeds and runs to minho, telling him the situation. (the last few sentences, make it soft like- fluffy? idk??)

~ the jeongin ff anon

💭the right thing

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

an: im really for the wait but the fic is finally here !! i hope you'll be satisfied with it❤️ also thank you so so much for recommending my blog, it means the world to me🥹 and yes, you do deserve an emoji !! please let me know which one you choose<3

“our dancing queen~” you heard ryujin’s voice which interrupted your conversation with yuna. you looked up at her, curious what was that about. “i have bad news for you,” she added, sitting next to you. you raised your eyebrow - bad news? what kind of bad news? “someone broke your record, yn.”

you weren’t mad at all. were you mad? no, no, you weren’t. it’s okay, it’s just a stupid record. it’s nothing important. it’s okay. it’s not like it was something you’d worked hard your whole life. no. no, it’s fine. you were completely fine- “yn, put the knife down,” yuna said firmly, looking at your dissociated figure. “put it down, did you hear me? you have this weird absent expression on your face and it looks scary.” you slowly put the knife in the sink, sighing loudly, and leaned your hands on the counter. you felt yuna’s arms wrap around you from behind, gently placing her chin on your shoulder. “you know it means absolutely nothing, right? you'll always be our dancing queen,” she whispered, trying to cheer you up a little bit. did it work? no, no it didn’t, but you knew you couldn’t sulk for the rest of your life, so you just nodded weakly and proceeded with your daily routine, trying to forget about everything. after all, you had to prepare for the showcase and you didn’t have time to worry about some random dude you’ll forget in a month anyway.

your next practice was intense to say the least. It all started with just yuna, yeji and you, but then some other trainees decided to join you and after some time almost the whole practice room was filled with people. and among those people was lee minho, dancing at the front next to you. his presence was making you nervous, but motivated you as well. you tried your best for hours, sweat (and some tears) were making its way down your face, muscles hurting and head spinning, but you didn’t slow down. minho noticed your state in the mirror and mumbled something under his nose, smirking, but you didn’t catch it. so, you stopped the dancing and took a step in his direction. “you wanna repeat that?” you asked, your cold piercing gaze was trying to burn holes in his head. but he just looked at you and shook his head. “i don’t know what you’re talking about. go back to practising,” he responded, visibly happy with your annoyance. “you definitely need it more than i do,” he added with an evil smile, much quieter, but that you managed to catch. you scoffed at his words, amused by his exaggerated self-confidence and decided to try ignoring him for the rest of the practice. you had to prove something, not to get into stupid fights with minho.

“you need it more than i do,” you said in a mocking tone when you decided to take a break from practising. you were currently sitting in a convenience store with the girls, fumbling with your noodles and losing your appetite just thinking about minho. you were furious. “who does he think he is, huh?” you rambled on and on, your head hurting from all the negative emotions that were building up inside you. “yn, i love you, but i think you care a bit too much,” chaeryeong said softly, taking a sip of her drink. you looked at her and raised your eyebrow. she noticed your not-so-friendly gaze and spoke again. “don't get me wrong, but it really doesn't matter that he beat the record. there are so many other people who are great dancers without breaking the record, it's just a formality.” you nodded weakly at her words. she was right. of course it didn't matter. “besides,” ryujin started with a mouthful of ramen. “you still can show you're better by debuting sooner than him,” she continued and went straight back to eating. she was also right. the only way to show you were better than him was debuting and that was your goal.

“a mixed group?” you huffed after the showcase was done. you were still in your stage outfit, catching your breath after an exhausting performance. JYP surprised you all, deciding to change the rules a bit and create a mixed group instead of choosing one of your teams to debut. it wouldn’t be anything bad, but since minho was a part of the male group, to say you were mad was an understatement. “yn, look at the positives - we might be able to finally debut. you’ve been here for so long already, you should be celebrating,” yeji said firmly and the rest of the girls nodded with approval. “i am happy, of course i am. and i'm gonna celebrate. i just don’t feel too fancy about the fact that i might end up in one group with lee minho,” you exhaled loudly, sounding more and more defeated with each word. “i mean, nothing’s sure for now. lots of us are gonna be eliminated, so maybe he’ll be one of those people?” ryujin suggested and earned a slap on her arm from yeji. “stop the negativity, no one’s eliminated yet. let’s just go eat something and don’t think about anyone else other than ourselves,” yeji exclaimed, hyping you all up and you decided to drop the topic for the night and enjoy your little success, knowing that there was just gonna be harder with each day.

“no, no, i'm not doing this,” you whined loudly, falling on your bed late at night. your body was aching from the whole day of practising and recording a song JYP asked you to create with the male group. he assigned the composing to chan, changbin and han, while the people who were responsible for choreography were you and minho. and to no one's surprise you weren't happy about this. but you had nothing to say since it was JYP's decision - you had to respect it.

that's how you ended up in the boys' dorm, alone with minho. it was awkward, to say the least. you didn't know how to behave and since minho hadn't really said anything else than “come in” and “you wanna drink something?”you just stood there in silence and looked around a little. the rest of the boys either went to eat or stayed at the company to practise, so it was really quiet there. “chan sent me the finished song,” he finally spoke, his voice soft and steady. you nodded and asked him to play it to you so you could think about the choreography a bit. you closed your eyes when the song started playing and listened intently, paying close attention to certain parts of the chorus. when the song was done, you opened your eyes and noticed that minho was staring at you. you raised your eyebrow and he cleared his throat, converting his gaze at his phone. “so, um… do you have any ideas where we should start?” he asked faintly and you started to share your concept with him.

that's how your little cooperation started. your first choreography was met with a huge enthusiasm from both teams as well as JYP himself. you did well and because of that minho and you were officially in charge of creating a perfect balance in choreographies between both teams. you weren't as mad as before, because you actually kind of enjoyed working with minho - he had different experiences with dancing and therefore he was able to share his unique ideas with you. it wasn't too easy though, because you both had strong characters and you struggled to come to a compromise sometimes, but regardless of your small disagreements you warmed up to him and felt this weird urge to spend more time with him. what was happening to you?

that's why, when episode 4 came and you two were on the verge of elimination alongside yuna, you felt as if your world was going to collapse. you struggled to breathe standing in front of JYP. he had this serious expression and was looking at the three of you. “yn and minho,” you heard his voice and stiffened, your heart speeding and tears welling in your eyes. “you were in charge of the choreography again, but something didn't work this time,” he continued and your hands started shaking. minho noticed it and quietly took your hand in his, squeezing it to reassure you. JYP shared his feedback with yuna as well and you exhaled shakily. you were scared. “yn.” you looked up at JYP again, expecting the worst. “for me your enthusiasm and willingness to work and become even better is clearly seen. and even if this week you and minho didn't do your job properly, i see the most potential in you,” he continued in a serious tone. “that's why you are the one to stay. you can come back to your team.” you stood there in shock, tears now streaming down your face. you bowed clumsily and took a step back, your vision blurry. you didn't really remember the rest of his words, but when he left the set, you rushed to yuna and minho and hugged them tightly, sobbing. “i'm so sorry,” you babbled. “i'm so, so sorry.” “it's okay, it's not your fault,” yuna said shakily. she then smiled at you and went to say goodbye to others. you then hugged minho again, burying your face in his chest. “you should be the one staying here,” you mumbled, sniffling. “i'll fix this,” you added, looking him in the eyes. he only patted your head and smiled softly. “it's okay, we did a great job anyway,” he chuckled. “bye, yn. i liked to work with you even if you hate me” “bye, minho. i don't actually hate you.”

it wasn't right. no. it was his place, he belonged here. you spoke to JYP once, but he brushed you off after a minute. then you spoke to him for the second time, he said no. you tried again, he told you his decision was made. but you didn't want to respect it. it wasn't right. after episode 5 you went to him again. this time, he listened to you, taking in everything you wanted to say about this being a bad idea. “i'm willing to switch places with him, just please bring him back,” you pleaded. but he only said you should go back to your dorm. you cried on your way there. and you cried yourself to sleep that day.

episode 6 and minho came back. you couldn't believe your eyes - JYP brought him back. you didn't really listen to the man when he was explaining everything. you only saw minho - his eyes were so sparkly and when they met yours, you saw him smile widely. then JYP left the practice room to give you some time to reunite and you didn't waste time. you ran to him and immediately wrapped your arms around his neck. you rambled on and on that you were so happy to see him again and explained the whole situation. you must've started crying at some point cause minho had to wipe some tears from your cheeks. “i make you cry a lot, huh?” minho said jokingly when you stopped the ramble. “no wonder you hate me,” he added and your smile faded. “i don't hate you. if i did, i would've choked you instead of hugging you right now,” you giggled, smiling again. “fair point. but if you don't hate me then how do you feel about me?” minho teased, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “i was hoping you would know by now.” “oh, i do. i just want you to say it out loud,” he said, his face getting closer and closer to yours. but you didn't respond to that, pecking his cheek instead and finally backing off a little to let the rest say hi to him. you were smiling the whole time and you knew you did the right thing.

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[liptonsbabe]

Blood all along

Eugene Roe x fem! reader

Inktober "Snow"

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, war, the usual in this fandom(?.

a/n: well hello! This is a little something that I did for the inktober! I'm not an artist but I thought it would be cute to write a few fics for our favorite boys on this month! Hope you like it!

Btw English is not my frst language so tell me if something's wrong

ofc this is based on the hbo series and the actors who portray the characters, no disrespect for the real heroes!

You hissed in pain as you disinfected the wound on your leg. You were lucky, the bullet had only grazed your skin and the only thing you had to deal with was trying to stop the bleeding that was staining the snow beneath you red.

Bastogne was being a complete nightmare, the air support that arrived a few days ago was not enough and the battalion's medical team was having serious problems helping all the wounded men.

Having to digging in right along the line and repel the German attacks was the worst moment of the war so far and having lost so many soldiers in such a short time was a very strong blow for everyone.

Malarkey, Muck, Penkala and you were inseparable since Toccoa and losing two of your best friends in the same night was so painful for you, especially cause you trained so hard to become a doctor and still couldn't do anything for them. Don talked to you right after what happened, making sure you were okay, but the truth was that he was just or worse affected than you were, and even if Donald Malarkey always knew what to say to lift others' spirits, at that moment the words were stuck on his lips. The only thing he could do was stay by your side, silent and holding your hand tightly.

Everyone in the company noticed your change in attitude after Muck and Penkala's death. Somehow you turned lonely, quiet, and your hands shook when you were near the soldiers' wounds, something that didn't go unnoticed by Eugene Roe, who asked you to step away from the line for a while and try to forget everything that had happened in the last few days.

But forgetting was impossible. Even if your friends hadn't died, you could never forget the warm, viscous feeling of blood on your hands, the smell of gunpowder filling the air or the screams of pain you heard every day, at every second. Now, every time you closed your eyes, the images of the wounded soldiers appeared among a dark cloud that slowly grew bigger and bigger, trying to choke you.

You hissed again, the cold making the wound on your exposed leg sting terribly. You took some alcohol from your backpack and soaked the gauze with it to disinfect the bullet graze. You smiled a little, remembering how you had gotten hurt.

If you had found the third battalion sooner, Babe wouldn't have fallen into that Kraut's foxhole and you wouldn't have to run through the woods with gunfire hot on your heels. It was kind of fun tho, but your leg was swollen like hell.

You heard footsteps approaching your position and without thinking twice you grabbed the knife that you always carried on your belt. You waited for the shadow to become clearer in the snow to attack, but then you recognized the silhouette and relaxed your body.

Eugene walked towards you slowly. His nose was red from the cold and his hands were hidden in the pockets of his uniform. You put the knife aside and continued cleaning the blood. Eugene sat in front of you, noticing the red snow under your feet.

“(Y/N), you're hurt.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Wait, I'm gonna help you,” he said and rushed to examine the swelling on your leg. You pushed him away “You should've come to me sooner.”

"It wasn't necessary. Don't worry, the bullet didn't hit me. At least not completely. Plus, I'm a doctor too, remember? I can take care of this by myself.”

"Doesn't matter. I wish you'd let me check you properly. Edward told me what happened.”

"Who?" You frowned, not understanding who he was referring to. Then you remembered that Eugene never called anyone by his nickname “Uh, Babe.”

“Yeah.”

“I asked him not to do it, I didn't want you to worry.”

“Well, no matter what happens, I will always worry about you” then he removed your hands from the wound and took the gauze carefully. Roe cleaned your wound and took the time to check that it was indeed a simple bullet graze. He put some ointment on it and blew on your swollen leg for a couple of seconds. You sighed cause the air from his mouth felt like a kiss on your skin and relieved the burning momentarily. You admired the firmness of his hands and the way the blood no longer scared him. He pulled a bandage out of his jacket and started wrapping it around your leg.

“Eugene, how can you stand it?”

He looked up for a second while continuing to manipulate the bandage. “What d'you mean?”

"I mean this. Still standing after everything that has happened."

Eugene stopped. His fingers rested on your bandaged leg and he thought hard for several seconds. He looked at you and could see how broken and tired you were.

"I pray. Sometimes"

“There must be something else” You sniffled, wanting to stop the tears. Eugene sighed, “Something that makes you feel like it's worth staying here.”

“I think there is always something good at the end of the road. I think that… beyond this forest, beyond this frozen hell… there's something that gives purpose to what we are doing. And I hold on to the thought that everything I love will be there when I come back” he said and caressed your cheek “And maybe, with a little luck, I can convince you to come home with me” You laughed through your tears and Eugene squeezed your hand gently. “I'm sorry about Muck and Penkala. I know you feel guilty for not being able to help them, but I'm convinced that they believed firmly in you, and that if it had been different, you'd be there, trying 'til the very end.

Your tears were uncontrollable and Eugene hugged you tightly, he let your pain come out of your chest and let your tears be carried away by the heavy snow that fell from the sky. Roe stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head.

“Everything's gonna be okay and i promise you that I'm gonna take you home,” he whispered in your ear. “I promise, (Y/N), I do promise.”

[notfoundfootage]

Nightly clients

Platonic!Lost Boys x Hairdresser!Reader DO NOT REPOST/PLAGIARIZE

A/N: not proofread, fluff and fun, written in a state of tired™ hope you like it ✨

You stared the small paper in your hands, the message written ominously in a weird dark paint

We are coming tomorrow at 10. Be prepared.

As a hairdresser, you had some weird clients during your usual daytime work days, and some even weirder at night. You were the only hairdresser who worked very late hours, and your boss let you close the salon at 'Frighty Friday' how she called.

They usually came in a group of four. Three blondes and one brunette, looking like trouble. But they left very fat tips and weird gifts, so you did whatever they asked for.

In the first appointments, they didn't leave names or an address, they only came in, did their hair and left. But now it became a monthly thing and a group thing. They never showed up separately.

David did his hair very frequently, he did his roots every 15 days and he made it very clear how he needed to be perfect. David sounded like the pompous obnoxious ladies that came in during the lunchtime, demanding perfection always, the only difference was that David didn't have little ugly dogs they did, and he was very endearing.

Once, though, he laughed quietly at a thought you had. And when you began questioning if you said it out loud or if he read your mind, he turned to you and just stared.

He would stare and follow you with his eyes as you cautiously applied bleach in his roots, would refuse to close his eyes in the shampoo bowl and would be terrifying at first. Well he still is, but not so much.

David usually tips in cigarettes (if you smoke), plain cash and sometimes he would give you fancy wine, the bottle dusty and covered in cobwebs and dust. He never tells you were he gets it from.

Marko usually just comes in to cause trouble. He simply can't sit still. He will spin in the empty styling chairs with Paul, whisper Barber of Seville in your ear while you cut David's hair, making you laugh and earning a pointed look from the recently bleached blonde.

You don't allow him near your expensive equipment anymore. The damage he can cause with a hot flat iron is something you try to avoid at all costs. Scissors? Tucked safely in your apron pockets.

He will behave if you put on some music that he likes, and allow him to watch you work and ask questions. It's annoying, but it does the work when you need him semi still and quiet.

Marko likes to leave you random jewelry and fair prizes, sometimes band T-shirts, rubber ducks or candies. He and Paul once gave you one of those big big teddy bears and you had it occupying half your bed at home.

When dark and mysterious Dwayne comes in, you know it's for scalp massages. He will sit in the shampoo bowl, eyes closed relaxed, trying to not pay attention to Paul and Marko or the messes they are trying to make or hide.

If you get distracted by the commotion, he will open his eyes, calling you by your name and saying "eyes on me, alright?" And you try to not be weak in the knees. He knows David will handle the other two if necessary and if he feels like doing so.

He has a very tense scalp, and you work extra hard to make sure he's satisfied. A happy Dwayne is a sleepy Dwayne after all.

Dwayne will get a blowout and will have his hair full of big hair curlers inside one of those head dryers to perfect his already perfect look. He is less invasive than David and his long icy stares, but will occasionally observe you interacting with the others.

He leaves you tips in cash, shiny trinkets and useful things. He gave you a pocket knife, new scrunchies, a new pair of converses and random curious items.

Paul is another one that knows what he wants and when he sits in your chair, your nightmare begins. Much like David, he is obsessed with his look, but can be worse than him.

The first time he comes in to get his hair done, he brings a portfolio full of pictures of his hair. Along with some references from artists you assume he really enjoys. Is the closest from a toddler from the four, much like Marko, can't sit still for his life.

If Marko distracts you or scares you and you mess up David's hair, David will be angry at Marko. With Paul, it's the opposite, he will blame you.

Hence a dramatic "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY HAIR" moment.

You're not even phased by their antics anymore.

But Paul and Marko always make you laugh and always bring or order food for all of you. So you usually forgive them both.

Paul tips in food, in music tapes and vinyls he wants you to listen, if you smoke, he'll also leave cigarettes for you. If he tips in cash, expect a lot of money in 1 cent coins. He says "so you'll remember me tomorrow" with a smug cute little face.

They are trouble. They leave a mess behind in the salon you'd have to clean before leaving, they are difficult clients to deal with, they gave you a taxidermied racoon sexily posed once, and they were so damn annoying.

BUT they also helped pay your bills, and sometimes one of them offers to give you a ride home, and you'll be lying to yourself if you say you don't enjoy their presence around you. They are your favorites, and you're grateful for the night shift on Frighty Fridays.