#(stop being so cheeky Sans)

[diejager]

can we have more of phoenix! reader? 🥺 i feel like they (as a baby bird) would build a nest on Price's belly cuz he's SUPER WARM and also he breathes out fire and that's perfect for the lil birby

Cw: reader being cheeky, teasing, biting/pecking, tell me if I missed any.

Having you on… ”leave” was hard when you were right there, clicking and chirping from your high perch on Price’s head, watching them being treated by another medic with your black eyes. They were reluctant - Ghost especially - to be touched and cared by someone else, hesitant to accept her tender hands and muted sighs at their stubbornness. It irked them even more when you chirped on and on, cackling at them after they grumbled, beating your wings and sending sparks from your newly-grown feathers around you, amber lights burning within seconds.

And the worst of all, was how willing you were to being handled by her, preening and pushing your chest out, your orange feathers puffing up in a show of dignity under her loving gaze. They - all but Price - glared on, witnesses to you nuzzling against your replacement’s cheek, your head bumping the curve of her lips when she placed a small kiss atop your curled mane. Perhaps it was jealousy that boiled in their stomachs, an anger at not being able to coddle you and being envious about such affection given to others rather than them. 

Fortunately, she returned you to Price’s waiting hands, craddling you in his warm palms, fingers curled carefully to keep you unharmed and away from his claws despite your cheeky bites at them, clawed feet wrapping around his thumbs while you bit him. Even in your small and vulnerable state, you were still so cheeky —a bastard, really, playing their hearts, knowing full well they would never stop you. They figured you’d stay as small as you were until the next day, where you’d keep growing and maturing until you reached your peak, a beauty to admire and bewilder at —or so Price said. 

Within the next week, the clock striking the start of a new one, you’d lost your curled and fluffy feathers, the protective layer to keep you warm, and had started growing long and silken ones, coloured a majestic scarlet and gold. You could fly rather than hop around, your little feet rarely taking you far, and you took full pleasure of landing wherever you wanted. Largely Price’s stomach, the rumbling fire within him keeping him alive - a burning core, his beating heart - worked well to replaced the nest you’d usually need, nestled over the fold of his abdomen and happily sighing.

Then your feathers grew out, longer and sturdier, the ends curled upwards, your crown of scarlet feathers making you look noble from your perch (the one Price took out of storage in your closet and placed in the rec room), head held high and lean body still and watchful. You were, exactly as Price had promised, a beauty to the eye, the noble phoenix cloaked in fire and royalty in the grey and gloomy base. A taste of vibrant life within these cold walls, enchanting with your chirpy songs, healing with your little tears and surprising strength. And yet, you were still the cheeky bastard you were as a chick, a cackle rippling through your throat when they fumbled around, trying to catch you after you stole things right out of their hands. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

[xerotiny99]

Antiserum D // Loving Professor Jeong #1

Antiserum D (Loving Professor Jeong series #1) Professor/College au.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x (f) Reader [ft. Choi San & Song Mingi]

Warning: smut, prof!yunho, dom!yunho, sub!reader, student!reader, age gap, teasing and suggestive actions, size kink, big dick Yunho, dirty talk and pet names (master and pup), blowjob/throat fucking, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, edging, creampie and dacryphilia.

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable or triggered by the mentioned tags. Also note the age gap tag, here the reader is 21 and Yunho is 32, which makes it 11 years of gap.

Side Note: this series will contain 'hyung line' as the professors and the 'maknae line' as minor characters; except for Choi San and Song Mingi, these men are cheeky so look out for them. Again, as my other series, 'the reader' does have a name, i.e, Lee Sherri. Nicknames are bound to follow, so don't worry. I only write names in my oneshots because it's too annoying to write [y/n] everywhere and it ruins my flow of writing. Anyway, enjoy!

Gist: you had a rival in college, yes you did. It wasn't a student, rather the person you hold your grudges against is one of your professors. Now, you're in your senior year of bachelor's degree, running late for a morning class—knowing well he takes this class, what do you think the consequences would be?

Word Count: 12,164

 'My dog died.'

No, you don't have a pet!

'My bus was late.'

You live on-campus.

'The coffee shop was crowded.'

You don't freaking have a cup in your hand!

'Umm, I overslept.'

Well, he doesn't need to know the truth. 

He really doesn't need to know the truth to why you were running late to his morning class. As time would have it, you did oversleep; lethargic from last night's meaningless meandering from bar to bar, in search of your sober soul, you surely had forgotten about your morning class the next day. Weekends are supposed to be lax and diverting. They're your only shot at having a good time with your friends. You weren't going to let your fear of being reprimanded by your 'favourite' professor stop you from having the fun you deserved. The weekdays were long, tedious and dull with all the lectures and practical sessions to attend.

You're sprinting up the stairs to get to your department; the science building is supposedly long and encompasses all other departments falling into it. Your department (zoology), moreover, your class was situated on the second level of the building. Meeting with the long hallway on your way, which apparently was the physics department, you turn a corner and are merged with another long hallway leading to yours. The grotesque stench of formaldehyde hits your nose the moment you walk past the junior laboratories of your department; that's where they were trying to preserve biological specimens, the 'tingle-your-spine' kind. There are lecture halls and laboratories on one side of the long hallway, while the other side was an open space with concrete railings and pillars; this space opened into the botanical garden the botany department had been tending to, so it housed large trees, a decent number of shrubs and flowering plants, including a variety of cactus and other succulents. 

Rushing in your steps, holding your tote bag close to you, your eyes scramble past the open space and the garden onto the walking street of your campus; it was borne with trees on both sides, and amidst the thicket of greenery you find the main building of psychology department. You almost heave out a laugh, reminiscing of the last night when your best friend (who studies psychology) was drunk out of his mind and had been making out with a lamppost. You pull yourself out of that daze, increasing the pace of your sprint to get to your laboratory.

First red flag of your day, the doors to your lab were open wide. Second, your supposedly 'favourite' professor was midway through an explanation about the experiment you were going to perform today. And third, you were technically thirty minutes late to the lab.

Quiet on your feet, you try to sneak inside; the structure of your lab was a little different, with sitting desks on one side of it, and workbenches on the other. In retrospect, this was your senior year's class where apparent lectures took place, and the workbenches were designated for less involved experiments. At the very front of your class/lab is a podium, a chalky black board, and a desk for professor. You glance at the front after realising all students had occupied the workbenches, you catch up on the glimpse of Professor Jeong carrying on with his explanation till his eyes meet yours.

"Miss Lee," he grumbles, amidst his explanation, "sneaking in—" mumbling he checks the time on his wristwatch, the sleeve of his coat riding up, "—a total of thirty minutes late. You better have a good reason."

He folds his arms over his chest, and stares down at you. While you halt midstep into the class, standing straighter you clear your throat and feel your mind stutter looking at him. Why did he have to dress so provocatively? And the outfit in concern was his beige coat and matching pants, a white long sleeved turtleneck underneath; you didn't quite like how your heart was palpitating watching him, keenly grazing your thirst-filled eyes across his face, noticing the shine on his black rimmed glasses and the plumpness of his pink lips.

"Miss Lee?" he repeats, only to get you squeaking, "yes, professor—uh yeah, I was late because my alarm did not go off in the morning..."

He hums in contemplation, eyes narrowing on you before he sighs and shakes his head, "occupy one of the workbenches and do not touch anything before I tell you to."

You nod, pressing your lips tighter to prevent any sound from escaping your throat; you were certainly anxious and embarrassed to be late, but more precisely you were humiliated in front of your class for coming up with such a lame excuse. Sighing, you stuff your tote bag in your locker at the back. You quickly slip on a lab coat over your outfit, bubbling with disappointment as it was hiding your nubile outfit. Knowing you were running late, you still made extreme efforts to dress yourself up—the reason was quite overt, because you wanted to dress up for yourself—you wore a white blouse under a pastel blue sweater vest and paired it with grey skirt which rode up till your mid-thighs. The lacy thigh-high socks were just an added accessory to make yourself seem cute considering you also had a blue ribbon in your hair, holding it in a high ponytail.

The only workbench unoccupied is the one situated at the very end and far from either the professor's desk at the back near the lockers and the podium from where Professor Jeong was reading every movement of yours. When you get to your designated place, you glance at the workstation to take note of the apparatus, before glancing next to you, finding the most obnoxious person you could. Choi San, Choi freaking San was offering you a guileful smile, one whose intentions did not appear to be right, or even ethical.

Bastard.

"So, Miss Lee is late because she couldn't hear her alarm go off? Pathetic," he rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, his own lab coat creasing by the elbows with his plaid shirt peeking from beneath. "I don't believe you—oh well, but I wonder what your favourite professor would think about you when he knows you were getting pissed drunk last night with your friends."

You weigh his words in your mind for a second before furling back a reply. "Aww, Sannie. If you're so desperate to get in my inner circle, just say so. I didn't know you would be so jealous of us..."

San's smile turns into a curve of amusement, "jealous of you? Me? Jealous?" he scoffs, "darling, you're dreaming. If I wanted to be in your inner circle, I would've just slept my way through it."

"Really now?" you retort, smiling softly, "slept with whom?"

"An easy prey to seduce would be you—" he clicks his tongue, "—if you can be so impressed by that..." he nods his head toward Professor Jeong, "...then I believe you'd be swept off your feet if I genuinely try to."

"You put yourself on such a high pedestal, Sannie," you muse, shaking your head lightly, "do you really think my standards are set so low to be dazzled by you?" 

"Oh, only time would tell, Miss Lee," he rolls his eyes, keeping his sly smile on. "Maybe, you would get infatuated with me or give into your temptations."

"Ahh, such a dedicated wishful thinker you are," you snide, heaving a low chuckle, "the only thing I'm tempted to do is throw a chair in your fucking face—"

"Miss Lee!" you flinch in your skin, body spasming to the deep and coarse voice of the professor. Hesitant in yourself, you peek up to face him, finding him glaring at you without a twitch on his face. "You certainly are not going to pay attention to my class, then why waste my time? You're free to leave. I don't hold my students captive; the ones passionate about learning find a way to attend my class in any way they could."

Your cheeks heat up, turning a shade of faint cherry red; embarrassment licks your spine and head lowers itself, you won't forget this moment ever. San is busy staring at you, feeling a little guilty but of course he won't let you know that. Shortly after, you glance back at the professor, noticing him staring at you with his lips in a scowl and his eyes piercing through you. That alone, that look alone was enough for you to quiver in your shoes; his persona had always been the intimidating kind, the kind who is self-possessed and doesn't really bother himself with the rest of the world.

Professor Jeong wasn't fazed by anything, not even by the number of female students crushing on him in your department, rather in your class alone. He didn't acknowledge their stupefyingly sexual or overly sensual approaches, turned them down if he thought they were invading his privacy. You took that as a challenge; maybe, maybe not. Your rivalry with him wasn't because he was unapproachable or a forbidden fruit to taste, it was because he always found a way to rattle your senses and make you the fool.

You remember it as clear as a day, at the beginning of your senior year, the very first semester—attending his class on genetics, you were simply taken off by him and his way of speaking. His personality was homely, strict where it should be, however. Amidst his lecture, he caught you talking and joking around with your bench-mate and questioned you about the topic he was teaching.

"If you can yap useless things, then why don't you enlighten me with the working of gel electrophoresis, hmmm...?"

It stung. But not more than him adding, "I'm even surprised you could answer. Maybe you should focus yourself more on your academics than other things."

Other things? You realised he was making comments on your appearance, the way you were dressed, the way you had streaks of gold stitched in your hair, the way you always had playful make up on—he judged you based on that, and thus the profound feud between him and you began. After that, you would intentionally skip his classes and not make an effort to attend them; even the practical sessions, except for the mandatory ones where you would bite your tongue and listen to him demeaning your entire existence for not setting the microscope right.

"Alright, now that I'm done explaining the principle and bits of the procedure, you may follow the same with your partners; if you're muddled with any concern then heed my name." He announces out loud, stepping down from the podium.

You raise your head, further listening to his footsteps dither across the floor to the back of where another table had been put up for teachers' comfort. Though, that's what you thought. The mellow sound of his boots takes an unassuming turn to your row of workbenches, taking you off guard. You're trying to find the meaning behind his detour. Also, you had been oblivious from the start that this practical is supposed to be performed in pairs. And you had no one. Because you were late. Even the slow-witted and stolid transfer student, Reagan Keith had a partner; and her partner was San himself, something you definitely did not see coming.

"Miss Lee," Professor Jeong clears his throat, standing next to you, "I suppose you do not have a partner because of your tardiness, and I happened to pair all my students prior to you, which leaves me no choice but to perform this particular experiment with you. So now, take a brief look at the blackboard and what I've etched on it, try to understand it. Once done, we can surely proceed."

You nod, contemplating, biting your cheek, unable to comprehend the proximity between you two. The dense musk of his scent is wafting all your senses—the redolent scent of vanilla and cinnamon is a deadly concoction to drive you wild. His warmth is superficial, yet the kind which melts your mind with stupefying possibilities, just how he could be—you need to keep your thoughts clean and chaste. Still, you suppress your mind to a corner and peek at the blackboard, studying his neat hand etched on it. The title gave you the rough idea of what you're supposed to do. 

'Determination of blood groups.'

Ahh, the title itself foretells the coming inevitable mishap is going to involve blood and blood lancets; you aren't so fond of the needles—no, it wasn't a phobia, you weren't fond of pricking yourself with the help of those lancets. The blue rounded capsules which compassed a sterile needle underneath was beyond torturous to you.

You heave out a deep breath, understanding the further procedure he had inscribed on the blackboard. Familiar with few terms, such as the usage of antiserums, and principle behind the entire procedure, you were relieved. Way more than relieved to know this wasn't something out of your expertise. The nurturing thought of you actually explaining it to him however was too heavy to bear. You clear your throat, fumbling in your words as you dart your eyes anywhere else but at him.

"Yes, Miss Lee, are you done gandering at the procedure?" he gawks, bewildered as if and continues, "now, please enlighten me with the steps so as to we can proceed with the experiment."

"We—we are determining the blood—blood groups," you stutter, not knowing where that came from, you turn your attention onto him, stifling a gasp upon noticing him leaning close to you.

"Go on, Miss Lee," he prompts you with a soft nudge of his head. "I'm sure having to palaver about for the entire day, you could at least narrate the steps to me. All I need is your guidance."

He's playing you again.

"Alright, I will—" your breath hitches in your throat—you witness him effortlessly shrug his coat off, revealing nothing of his skin but the long-sleeved turtleneck he wore under.

"Hmhm, yes...?" he instigates, putting his coat off to a side while he rolls the sleeves of shirt over till his elbows. "What's the first step?"

"Sterilisation." you mutter under your breath.

"Sterilisation of what, Miss Lee?" he teases, keeping a straight; his pushes his glasses further up his nose, which had apparently slipped off a bit.

"Sterilisation of the subject area."

"Okay, tell me which area is most suitable for this test?"

You nod, swallowing thickly as your eyes never leave his. "The tip of the middle finger."

You weren't going to waver, not even when his soft brown eyes were speaking the unbearable at the moment; how can he do that? How can he momentarily torment you with a sly curve of his lips or by the detrimental facade of his eyes?

"And why is that?"

"Tendon sheath—uh, the middle finger has tendon sheath which only limits it to the fingers; as for the thumb and pinky finger, the sheath extends a little further to radial bursae and ulnar bursae—so in case any infection occurs it'll be restricted to the middle finger unlike the thumb or pinky which can lead to the heart." You try your best to explain, forgetting how to breathe in the process.

"You know your stuff," he murmurs, his voice low and cold, "do you see any sterilisation pads on your table?"

Looking around your desk, almost immediately, your eyes lurk on a beaker full of 70% ethanol and cotton swabs. You bring the beaker close to you and reach out for the forceps placed next to it; extending the beaker toward to him, you clear your throat, hoping he'd get on the cue.

"Miss Lee, I'd very much appreciate if you were to perform all the steps involving this practical."

"Right—okay, so..."

You drag your words into a whisper, holding the palm of his hand in yours, while other picks out a cotton swab with the forceps. The piece of cotton rolls to and fro on his skin, rubbing gently. Hearing him wince at the cooling sensation of ethanol against his skin, you stifle a chuckle and let out a sigh; once you were done with sterilising, you reach out for the blood lancets. Picking out one, you rip the cap off to reveal a sterling needle shining with a sharp point.

"Have you done this before, Miss Lee?" he questions as he watches you hesitate with the blood lancet. "Pricking yourself is quite different from pricking others, isn't it?"

You nod because you knew how different it was. In actuality, you're scared. You always were terrified to prick yourself with the needle whenever you were required to and it was mostly during your practical classes involving forensics. The high possibility of piercing your professor's skin, past the point till where it's necessary, was an untold fear you couldn't overcome. But, as you glance up at his docile face adorning an encouraging smile, in addition to the haughty glint in his eyes, you are much more prepared for the consequences.

"I am absolutely terrified when it comes to pricking myself—what if I..." your glance at his hand, then dart your eyes to his, feeling a breath hitch in your throat.

"You won't hurt me," he reassures you, later on compelling you with his words, "any day now, Miss Lee."

The racking nerve in your head forces you to take a deep breath and you're hauling the pointed tip of the lancet close to his finger. You know it takes one sudden nick to break the skin, and you also know you're supposed to be careful and swift with it. Hesitation breaks your conscience, you're still in two minds, still wondering if this was a good idea. Regardless of your abrupt cold feet, you let the lancet pierce through his skin, drawing out a ceaseless stream of blood; Professor Jeong is heedful of his bleeding finger and proceeds to make three blobs of blood on a microscope slide.

He puts the slide back, the glass clinks against the table but it melts into your thoughts—you were ogling him. You notice his veiny hand trembling softly to the unbridled tremors from the cut on his finger, it was attractive. You wouldn't mind admitting it, he has great hands—and sadly, you had a fetish. Trapping your lower lip between your teeth, you admire the little things about him; the proximity faltered to nothing, gave away how spotless his skin was, how sublimely luscious his lips were, and how the tiny specks of green in his eyes were far too evident in the sea of umber. Though, his hands were all you could think about; his porcelain skin, the bulging veins wrapped around his knuckles while they branched further down his hand—uff.

"Miss Lee?" he calls out, snapping his other finger, "please pass me a cotton swab, I need to clean myself."

You were brought back to the reality, seamless kind, a little vapid where you were impelled to keep a safe and healthy 'professor-student' relationship with him.

Hold up!

Where in the world did that come from?

The thought of having something more than 'professor-student' relationship with him.

You and him?

That's a little...

Far-fetched.

Unless...

There was...

There was a way to vex him.

You look back to all the times he's devalued your existence during his classes. The haughty remarks which rolled off his tongue with so much ease to belittle your short-lived efforts in any of his class, or perhaps, in any of the activities your department would plan. A spark in your mind strikes you in a way you couldn't quite explain, but you know you're finding yourself tighten your grip on his wrist. It's oddly satisfying, it's benign in your mind—though, the tiny bulb of tease was going on and off every second you spent staring at him.

There goes nothing.

Without hesitating you bring his hand close to your mouth, your tongue darts out the minute his bleeding finger finds its way in your sight, and you lick up a stripe to clean the blood off his finger. You hear him gasp, a sharp intake of breath which already told you he was bothered by your actions. Continuing to the rhythm of your heart, you wrap your lips around the tip of his finger and give it a soft suckle. Soon, a metallic copper taste slides on your tongue. Such an eerie sight to witness, by your professors and the others too. Especially the spawn of devil who was too busy charming the ditzy transfer student off her feet; if San catches you being this 'type' of friendly with the professor you 'slightly' resent then you probably could never show your face to anyone on the surface of earth. Luckily, San wasn't even sparing a glance at you.

"Miss—Miss Lee?" his voice breaks when he calls out to you again, prompting you to loosen your grip on his hand before you're letting it drop to his side.

"You were supposed to add antiserums to the slide, drop by drop. Now..." he takes a deep breath, noticing your glossy eyes and your plump lips parted; he's definitely resisting his urges. "The blood on the slide is almost..." He glances down at the table. "...it's almost dry. Miss Lee—" he leans in close to your ear, a coarse whisper sending a shiver down your spine, "—I'd like to see you after class."

"Maybe you can justify your actions then."

He leans back and takes a short gander around. Curling his lips up in a riveting smile, he nudges you with a nod. "Add the antiserums now, Miss Lee. All the others have finished performing the experiment."

You're out of your daze, rummaging your eyes around to find many of your classmates are done with their work and had gone to the other side of the lab, where the desks were.

"I'll be checking your practical sheets before you leave, so make sure you complete them all now." he announces out loud in the class, earning muffled groans from his students. "And no excuses."

"You too, Miss Lee," he turns to you, "now, if you will, you have to tell me my blood group. So, go on."

Again, pulling yourself out of the stupor, you nod profusely and proceed to the next step before the blood on your slide is completely dry. You add a drop of each antiserum on the three droplets of blood; waiting for a second, you watch the drop with antisera D and antisera A added begin to clot. To your conclusion, Professor Jeong's blood group is A+ve. All while you did the experiment, his eyes were fixed on you, fixated on your quivering hands and lips every time you tried to do something. In some instances of his mind, he was admiring you and your dedication, and how badly he had rocked your boat into capsizing.

"Good," he muses, his words turning bitter soon, "you sure can do a few things right. Well, all that's left to do is—" he grunts softly as he pulls the sleeves of his shirt back down, while he shrugs on his coat, "—cleaning and writing. Chop chop, Miss Lee.  And do not forget you have to wait after class."

With those spine-chilling words he leaves you stranded to your spot; unfortunately, this time San had overheard your conversation. He slides next to you, eyeing your workstation before glancing over at you.

His lips push themselves out into a pout, and he grumbles, "fucked up something?"

"None of your business," you grit your teeth, "get away before I chop your balls off."

"Oh, I'm shivering," he deadpans, nudging his elbow with your ribs, "come on, Lee. Tell me. What did you do for him to ask you to wait after class? We both know he's never done it—in fact he hates it when someone waits after class to 'talk' to him." he emphasises with finger quotes, rolling his eyes at you. "You fucked up big time then."

You heave out a long sigh, "I—just, shut up, San. You're the most annoying person in my life."

Grumbling, you glance at Professor Jeong, he was sitting on his desk at the back of the class, by the lockers. His stare was on you. It was on you from the moment he sat down. And even though you may not know what he was thinking, or wondering about, the glimpse of him having his teeth scratching on his lower lip was enough to let you know what exactly he intended on doing with you.

"Don't drag it out on me," he mumbles, his pout still intact on his face, "although, you're denying the truth, which means you two had an anomalous interaction..."

As he trails off, you roll your eyes at him. Finding the courage to break your eye contact with Professor Jeong, you glare at San and bite your lip. "Yeah, he made me wait after class. It's pertaining to me being late. Now off you go, make yourself useful elsewhere. Maybe, help Reagan find the remaining of her skirt, pretty sure she left it back at her dorms."  

San muses for a second before leaning over to stare at the said girl's skirt; she was standing by the lockers chattering with someone. His face twitches smugly, his brows creasing as he checks her out.

"Oh, no no! That does seem more important than dealing with you, Lee." he smirks, biting his lower lip, "see you around, try not to get too infatuated with your favourite professor."

Sauntering away from you, he loses his lab coat and then engages himself with Reagan. You project your frustrations into a sigh and begin cleaning your workbench before heading to the lockers to retrieve your bag and other items. Walking past the professor was a challenge in itself because you were too fazed in your mind by everything he did. Though, you could really say you were fuddled over his decision to make you wait after class. Anyone could tell you exactly how much he despised his students waiting after class, 'cause most of the times it would be the absurd number of female students trying to confess their feelings for him. You could sympathise with him, understand where he was coming from because you would find yourself in a similar situation; you were well sought to in your department, endless confessions, profuse gestures of affection, what not.

Regardless, you realised what you wanted in a man. It was the professor himself.

"Miss Lee, I need your practical journal completed." he speaks up as you're walking past his desk with your tote bag on your shoulder and your lab coat neatly folded in your hands. "You know what, I'll go through it after class. Till then, get your write-ups done."

Offering you a redolent smile, he tears his eyes off you. You swallow thickly, knowing well how ineptly stuck you were with him, after class too. And one more fact, your practical journal was incomplete—blank at the most, which was a catastrophe in the waiting. As the fear creeps up your spine, you bite your cheek and stumble onto an empty desk, settling yourself down to catch a breath.

Time passes in a haste, without bounds, and soon the moment you dreaded arrives with a tinkering bell on it. The class is empty, except for you and Professor Jeong. You could listen to him breathe, placidly whistle out a grumble a few times since he was busy with something you didn't feel the need to pay attention to. The clock on the wall ticks again and you're gathering your stuff before 'sneaking' out of the class. If his attention is solely saturated over something useless to you, then he probably won't even notice you gone.

At least that's what you thought.

"Miss Lee, I must remind you of our little parley where I asked you to wait after class." He doesn't even peek from the file he was reading, and continues, "don't think I can't see you sneaking away."

You stop in your steps, right in front of the open door with a few students lurking behind in the corridor. Stifling a groan, you roll your eyes and turn around on your feet. The man is sat poised in his chair, his lips curved in a smirk as he's staring right through you. Your heart skips a beat, yes too cliche, but you felt its arrhythmic vibrations ring your ears.

"Are there any students loitering in the corridor?" he questions and you nod to it, pressing your lips together. "Wait for them to leave and then lock the doors."

Why?

Lock the doors?

Why lock the doors?

Now your heart was pounding in that bony little cage of yours. Sooner or later, you would find it either in your throat or your guts that is if he continues to stare at you with the intensity of sun. Quite lost in the trance of his melancholic yet concupiscent eyes, you start nibbling on your lower lip, wanting to squeeze your thighs together to rid yourself of the tension you felt in your cunt. The chatters start dithering outside, ascending to the wind of nothing and it brings peace to your mind; not that it wasn't peaceful before, but now, it's just you and him caught in a void of infatuation.

"Do not take my intentions in the wrong way, Miss Lee. I am not so fond of disturbances during one-on-one student session..." he explains, going back to reading his file. Though, after a while he clears his throat and prompts you, "any moment now, Miss Lee."

"Yea—yeah," you stutter, sensing your throat close up.

Taking a step forward you close the latches on the door. The exhilaration of you being alone with him is sort of distorted in your head when you make your way towards his desk. What does he have in his mind? What does he want from you? Is this one of his many ways to make you feel small and little? Like all the times he does when you're attending his classes or so.

The look in his eyes has a spark of joy, just humming across the field of brown containing his pep. Those same eyes follow you around, till you're in front of him; his face shows no emotion, except for that straight line of his lips.

"Would you need an invitation, Miss Lee? Your binder, please." he asks, peeking up at through his long lashes and the black rimmed glasses. The glare on them makes it hard for you to read his eyes this time.

You clear your throat, and fumble with your bag to take the thick binder out. Pages furled out of it, a few flying off to fall on the ground, while a few remained stuck in amidst the others; you could tell Professor Jeong wasn't too happy with the condition of your binder. To be fair, this binder was your repository for all performed experiments so far. Nonetheless, your binder was...incomplete. Biting your lip, you place your binder on the table in front of him.

He eyes it for a moment before grabbing it in his hands and flipping the pages. You couldn't resist holding him on a high regard; his sleek fingers pinching the edges of the pages, turning them, eyes rummaging along the lines, and his parted lips which could tell he was contemplating.

"I certainly did not expect this from you, Miss Lee." he clicks his tongue, "now that I see it for myself, I can't help but agree with my initial remark about you. I would suggest you focus more on your academics rather than wasting your time with your friends and ambling through your life."

He sighs in defeat, mostly disappointment and slides your binder towards you across the table. Pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, he takes a deep breath and turns his head to you, his face expressing nothing at all.

"Life's not all about strolling through one club then to another. And while you do that, I can't sit back and watch you ruin your potential, Miss Lee," he sucks his teeth, as he continues to berate you with his words, "you're in the running for most proficient student in our department, alongside Mr. Choi. Now, would you be delighted to bear a consequence where he holds the trophy and not you? All because of what...? Some fiddling people you call your friends whose only job is to drag you out to buzzing clubs and what not."

Listening to him hound your existence, your heart suddenly weighs down in your chest, it grows heavy till it touches your gut. Oh no, you were letting it affect your state of mind. On the verge of tears, you look away from him and fixate your blurry vision on the floor; it was overbearing to hold his eyes, to wallow in the disappointment he held in them. Moreover, you didn't want him to see you cry, or shed a tear for that matter because you know you were close. Very close.

You sniffle softly, lowering your head furthermore to avoid to his gaze.

"Miss Lee?"

Silence.

You don't care for the concern his voice shows and continue to toil yourself on the contrasting hue of morning sun and the grey tiles. Blurry vision captures the indefinite shadows of lockers, some bookshelves—the sun was crawling overhead, witnessing your derision with your professor. You don't try to pay him any mind, not that you could even if you wanted to. There's a possible reason to why you don't want to, maybe the answer lies in your uncertain infatuation with him, or maybe it does prove your outlandish feelings for him. Which one of it was genuine?

A small moment passes between you two, roiling in tranquil haze before he clicks his tongue and drawls on a breath. "And to speak on your furtive behaviour—"

"Why do you hate me?"

A beat of serenity yanks his attention.

"What do you mean, Miss Lee?"

"I asked, why do you hate me so much?"

You glance up at him, preparing your unfazed mind for his reaction to your reddened cheeks and nose, and the obvious streaks of tears down your cheeks. The muscles on his face twitch even if it was indiscernible to the moment, you study him; he reveals a speck of pity in his eyes, so pathetic for you to think he'd pity you.

"Sherri?"

His lips quiver so delicately, calling out your name in a sleek yet coarse voice. It was the first time he'd ever called out your name, enunciated each syllable in his utmost trepidation as if he really cared for you. That alone was enough to cause a havoc in your heart, dwindling it further down to your...maybe it was the way he spoke your name out, but you were definitely feeling a spark strike in your pussy.

"I do not despise you, Sherri," he softly murmurs, looking away from you for a long minute before trailing his pitiful eyes back on you. "If my actions have made you—"

"—you always belittle me, humiliate me in front of the class and pretend to act as if you do it all because you care." you ramble, "you don't care about my feelings! All you can think is how to make me fall from my grace. Isn't it?"

You shake your head and bring your hands up to wipe your tears off, which had uncontrollably gushed out of your eyes while you had your meltdown. Your tote bag falls onto the floor with a soft thud, and you pay no mind to it. The hyperventilation soon kicks in, suffocating your lungs with a want to break free from your chest, and your stomach littered with unwanted butterflies fluttering along. More tears slide out of your eyes, and you lose your capability to see clearer.

The dainty streaks of torment on your cheeks, your tears, and your flushed face was a huge turn on for him; he could not probably free himself from his fetish, but his philia for tears or anything remotely close to it, always excited his cock. He shifts in his seat, spreading his legs apart under the desk to free himself from the strain in his pants. Oh how badly he had been aroused, by just watching you cry.

"Sherri, you're mistaking my concern for bullying; fuck! Why would I want to torment or humiliate you in front of the class?" he questions, such dainty voice breaking your heart and making you feel pathetic to sob in front of him.

"Come here."

He lures you in with his soft voice, and a frail tug of his lips; his smile had already proved to be devastating to you and even the slightest of it can make you, his puppet. Without realising it, you're taking short strides around the table to be by his side. He has his hand extended in front of you, something you didn't quite understand until you hold it in hesitation, and he pulls you down on his lap.

You gasp, and then yelp when you land on his lap; at first you find yourself uncomfortable in his embrace but giving it a little time, you relax and settle down, still with a bit of unease. His arms wrap themselves around your waist and he leans close to rest his chin on your shoulder as you sit sideways on his lap. Ambiguous swirls of darkness cover his eyes, and your breath hitches trying to unravel his true intentions. Instead, you were starting to get comfortable with him.

"I do not resent you for who you are, Sherri," he begins with a whispery breath, rubbing your back as he does. "I resent myself for being so helplessly bound under your spell."

Your lips part open, your chest heaves up and down erratically to constrain your wildly pounding heart. Oh, you were gone, you most definitely were.

"Projecting my bitter disposition on you was a mechanism I sought to cope my untamed desire—the ugly desire to taste this forbidden fruit." Mumbling, he turns his head and traces his lips along your neck, kissing and sucking. "Holy fuck, this body of yours...those lips, you don't know how much I crave them."

His hands tighten around your waist, and you gasp for air, "Professor Jeong, this isn't ethical. You're violating the university policy...ah!"

He bites down on your neck, grabbing enough flesh in between his teeth to suck on it. That's going to leave a pretty purple bruise behind, all in its glory, on your neck—so fucking attractive to you.  Pressing down on a moan, you drag your hands to his shoulders, hoping to shove him off to disturb his grip on you. Though you thought. It wasn't easy to make him budge, he wasn't letting you go, and you were gradually falling into that realisation.

"I could lose my job," he whispers, chuckling softly, "I can fucking lose my job if I engage with you, if I make my vile thoughts a reality but I can't control myself any longer, I need you, I need to ruin you—I know you feel the same way about me. Don't you, Sherri?" he nibbles on your earlobe, his hot breath fanning your ear. "Aren't your intentions the same as me, huh?"

"No." you mumble.

"No?"

You shake your head.

He doesn't believe you.

"Sherri, oh you beautiful liar," he sighs, his lips now curling into a smirk, "didn't you think of something else when you were sucking my finger off, hmm?"

You pout, not wanting to answer or have him the satisfaction of being right; instead, you start shuffling on his lap to get out of his hold. Squirming in his lap, you press your butt against his crotch, accidentally touching his hardened cock. It continues to poke your ass, and his fingers dig into your skin when his hold tightens on your waist. You were making it worse, it was visible on his face in the form of quivering lips and shut eyes.

"Don't move...!" he warns you, pressing your lower body against his lap, keeping you fixed in one place. "You'll make me...fuck. You do this on purpose, don't you?"

You stop moving—well you had no choice but to when his brute strength was holding you down against him. "I don't. I haven't done anything on purpose."

Lying is so easy. But him believing it has to be easy too. Though at this point you knew you were teasing him.

"Sherri, don't lie." He peels his eyes open and takes a sharp breath in, "get on your knees."

You gulp. Knees? He wants you on your knees...? That's...really fucking hot.

Eagerly, you crawl out of his lap as he gives you the chance to, keeping his hands to his side. He repositions his chair in a way to face you, as you're kneeling down in front of him, by the side of the table. There's not much distance between you, and the dithered proximity makes your heart palpitate with anticipation.

What was he going to do?

Your mind raced with the possibilities. Was he going to shove his 'obvious' boner down your throat? Was he going to make you ride him? What was his hauntingly beautiful mind thinking about?

"An obedient teacher's pet, how adorable," he coos, stroking his hand over your head as if to pet you.

"Professor..."

"Shush...!" he leans over, closely watching you with his fervent eyes. Out of nowhere the warmth of his thumb engulfs of your cheek. "Not a sound."

Brushing his thumb across, he collects a drop of your tear and brings it close to his mouth. He wraps his lips around his thumb and gives it a good suck; his eyes intently fixed on yours, delineating his intentions. You nod your head and watch him straighten his back to relax against the chair. His eyes glance over at the door for a minor second before he fixes them back on you; with a lilting smirk, he grabs the wooden pointer stick from his table and slaps its tip on the palm of his other hand. The same hand rubs along the length of it until his forefinger traces the tip before holding it in his one hand.

You couldn't help but gulp again, feeling aroused by his hand, and the way it was pumping the stick to and fro. Lowering yourself on your calves, you try to squeeze your thighs together. You wanted to ease your muscles, wanted to rid yourself of the tightness in your cunt because you were beyond wet for him.

"Hands behind your back," he commands, and you oblige without hesitation. "I asked you to be on your knees for me..." he softly mutters, tapping the stick twice on the floor to get you back on your knees.

You do that too; completely unaware of his next move. He drags the stick from the ground to you, to the hem of your skirt and lifts it up—exposing your ruined panties to him.

"Tsk, wet already?" he heaves out a breath, "do I really affect you that much?"

"Yes," you swallow and mumble, "you do."

"Hmm," he muses, humming his words along later, "that makes me want you even more."

With his other hand he takes his glasses off and flings them on the table. He pushes the stick further up till your waist to completely expose your dripping wet panties and your cunt; he licks his lips at the sight, his instincts running wild in his mind. Your hands were perfectly slotted in the small of your back, tightly wound together to appease the tension.

"Ah..fuck," you groan when you feel the wooden stick rub your cunt; he had angled it in such a way that it kept your skirt from falling down and it also gave him enough access to drag it along your slit. "Please, professor, I want you."

Listening to you mewl, his smirk widens, and he slurs his words, "now you want me, Miss Lee? Un-fucking-believable."

He picks up his pace, letting the stick rub itself perfectly against your slit; your cunt clenches around nothing, aching to have something in between, something to fill you up. You writhe in desperation, shifting your weight from one leg to another. Unable to contain yourself, you start grinding yourself against the stick, upon noticing it, he halts his movements and watches you with amusement. Casing his lips into a pout, he traces his forefinger on his lower lip; he's contemplating, mirthfully watching you pleasure yourself on the stick. You bring both of your hands to the front, holding the stick to stabilise it before you increase the pace of hips grinding down.

"Aww, is my little brat getting excited?" he scoffs, shaking his head lightly.

You press your lips together and nod your head, closing your eyes shut to the budding pleasure crawling up your body. Second by second, your sanity shrinks to nothing, making you loosen your grip on the stick. From the corner of your half-lidded eye, you watch him offer you a conceited smile, clearing his intentions out when he pulls the stick from between your legs and slides it up to your chin. Tapping its tip twice to your chin, he gets your attention on him with your eyes wide in anticipation.

He spreads his legs wider in front of you, putting his cock on a glorious display as it tightens in his pants; the outline of his cock figuratively makes you swallow a thick gulp of air. Keeping your head high with the stick, he uses his other hand to palm his crotch, gently wrapping his fingers around his cock to give it a few half-hearted pumps through his pants. With a nudge of his head, he drops the stick to a side and gestures you to come close. Biting your tongue, you crawl towards him, your heart in your throat now. Maybe it was the anticipation, the eagerness to see him bare and under the griming influence of your pleasure, but you were slightly alarmed to find yourself slotted in between his legs.

"Let's get my brat what she wants," he whispers further shifting comfortably in his hair. "Such hungry eyes gawking at the sight of my cock," he grabs your jaw lightly and strokes his thumb under your chin. He tuts, "I get these looks a lot but there's something about you— something about the way you're drooling over my cock."

You let your teeth sink deep in your lower lip, while your lips twitch into a soft smile of amusement. "Am I turning you on, professor?"

You release your lip from your teeth's grip, and he watches it wobble in a daze while you lean close and place your hands on either of his thighs. Rubbing circles with your fingertips on his thighs, you take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

"If that wasn't the case you wouldn't be here, Miss Lee. Kneeling between my legs, ready to take my cock in your mouth, hmm?" he suggestively murmurs, dragging his thumb to your lips till he forces it in your mouth. "Now, open wide."

Using his other hand, he fumbles with the buckle of his belt. While he does manage to get it undone, you decide to suck on his thumb which was still fixed in your mouth; you lick around, blatantly ignoring his rugged skin. You hear him grunt ever so gently to your mouth wrapped around his thumb, tingling with excitement to know what it would be like to have this same warmth around his cock. Everything passes in a haze when he restlessly tugs down on his pants and briefs at the same time; you notice him take his thumb out of his mouth and instead he replaces it with his cock.

The reddened tip of his cock nudges against your lips and you open wide, lowering yourself down on his cock—though, only halfway considering his length would take you long to adjust to while the thick girth already made the corners of your mouth sting. He holds your neck, his fingers delicately splayed on the nape as he pushes you down, however he's mindful of you and how much you can take in. You start stroking the remaining of his shaft—which you would eventually have to swallow deep in your mouth.

"Fuck, you're driving me insane with your mouth, I might..." he trails his words off into a low groan, beginning to thrust himself into your mouth. "I'm not going to last long, am I?"

He taunts, digging his fingers into your skin as he pushes your head further down on his cock; his thrusts become too sloppy, and you don't pay much mind to it. You are too focused on widening your mouth around his cock to fit him fully inside. Feeling the tip of his cock brush against your throat, you almost gag; your throat tightens, and the suffocation starts sneaking up on you, but you push yourself through and sink lower on his cock.

"Fuck, such a good brat, taking me in so well," he whimpers coarsely, "but this little brat needs to be punished for making me break my rules."

You gaze up at him with your teary eyes, softening them as he looks down at you too. Nodding your head, you hollow your cheeks and bop your head up and down after adjusting to his size. Your fingers dig into his fleshy thighs, constraining your moans with his cock stuffed in your mouth, you keep staring up at him till a few drops of tears cascade down your cheeks. He brings his other hand to caress your cheeks, thumb stroking off the tears as he doesn't let go of your head. You're on the verge of gagging on his cock, choking even, but disregarding your gag reflex, he bucks his hips into your face and his cock slides further down your throat. Unable to hold onto your moans and whimpers, you try to make a sound—the vibrations send him reeling from pleasure, he throws his head back and tightens his hold on your neck.

"Can't make a sound because my cock is—your mouth is stuffed with my cock, isn't it?" he teases, closing his eyes shut to relish the wetness and warmth of your mouth. "Don't worry—I won't—I won't cum too soon. My brat deserves a little—a little bit of fun even if she's being pun—punished."

His stutter was absolutely beautiful, it showed how much of a mess he was with your mouth wrapped around his cock, engulfed in the devious warmth of it. Somehow, it gave you a sense of victory, a sense of peace to know you had gotten him on his edge with only your mouth and nothing else. The saltiness of his precum floods your mouth—it makes you retch a bit regardless of that, you continue sucking him off while his thrusts are slow and steady. In the meantime, he pulls his untucked shirt above till his chest and holds it there; he pushes your head further down on his cock, till your nose is pressed against his pubic bone and your skin feels ticklish from his trimmed pubic hair.

His chest is rising and falling at an alarming rate; he surely was a mess, and you liked seeing it. When you peek up at him with your still-teary eyes, you notice sweat covering his forehead, making his hair stick to his skin while his cheeks are flushed with a shade of red. How adorable. How fucking adorable. The ever so haughty and stoic professor was writhing under your touches, with how you lapped your tongue under his shaft and purposely sucked your cheeks in to make it tight.

In actuality, you were really driving him wild; his grip on your neck loosens a bit for a hot second and he uses that time to let his hand entangle in your hair. You didn't realise when you groped his thighs for support, even so, your nails had dug deep enough to leave behind crescent marks on his skin, the kind which would fluster with a brutal purple tint tomorrow. Grasping a proper hold on your hair, he pulls you back and frees his cock from his mouth; a vile 'pop' sound resounds in the room while he does so.

The moment his cock is out of your mouth, you gasp for air, you swallow huge lugs of air through your mouth and glance at him with dazed eyes. His thick and veiny cock was slick with your spit, shining softly under the lights while a few strings of your saliva still connected your lips and his shaft. Your drool had covered every inch of his cock and had also slithered down your chin. The sensation in your mouth was a little sticky and salty from his precum. You keep your mouth wide open and wipe off the drool using the back of your hand; he smugly chuckles, eyes on you like a predator.

"Need to take a break?" he taunts you, belittling your presence and you shake your head to a no. Leaning over, he cups your face in both of his hands and grazes his eyes along your chest and exposed thighs.

"Get up."

Again, his domineering voice forces you to oblige, and you get on your wobbly feet—feeling your throat sore and tight from his cock hitting constantly, you swallow enough amount of spit and try to wash the sting down. He notices it but doesn't say much. His hands slide down from your face and hold your waist as you stand in front him; without any doubt, he pushes your front against the desk and makes you bend over. One hand on the collar of your blouse, and other on the small of your back; he keeps you in that position while he takes his time to shimmy his pants and briefs down till his knees. He positions himself behind you, managing to push your skirt up on your back to expose your dripping wet panties and your cunt. Your wet panties were driving him wild; his breathing becomes even more ragged when he snaps at the waistband and pulls them down to your knees. He swallows thickly when his thirsty eyes lurk over your glistening wet cunt, clenching around nothing for the time being.

"This wet cunt is going to take in every inch of me...fuck," he curses his under his breath while he smoothens his hand on one of your buttcheeks. "But we can't forget about your punishment, can we?"

He flattens his palm against your ass, keeping you pressed against the desk with his hand on your neck; you whimper in anticipation and hold onto the edge of the desk till your knuckles turn while. Anticipation makes you wiggle your ass slightly, as you're on your tippy toes and perfectly bent over the desk.

"No, we can't," you heave out a shaky sigh, not able to control your excitement anymore. "How are you going to punish me, professor?"

You sneer in your seductive voice, slurring your words against your rounded lips to get a reaction out of him. Having your vision limited to the empty classroom and the workbenches, the exhilaration of not knowing what he was going to do, makes you even wetter.

Yunho knows how vile your mind is, he knows the wet patch on your panties continues to grow the more he teases you and honestly, he wasn't complaining. He liked it as much as you did, but he hid it well in his composed speech and relaxed movements.

"There's only one way to punish a brat like you," he grunts, slapping one of your buttcheeks, "count them."

So, you were getting spanked. Such a fitting punishment for a brat like you, by a professor too—why did it feel like you were trapped in a low-budget student-professor porn movie? You can't complain anyway, you were absolutely absorbed in the trance of your pleasure and his hands caressing your butt.

You nod and thus begins the punishment.

Slap!

"One," you mewl, feeling his hand burn on your skin.

Slap!

"Two," your breath hitches when you go to say it out loud, your skin stinging from his hand.

Slap!

"Thr—three!" you groan out loudly, the impact jolting your body against the top of the desk.

This one stung like a bitch.

Slap!

Without any warning, he adds one more spank to the same buttcheek before moving onto the other. He offers it a soft squeeze first, and then pulls his hand back and flattens his palm over it.

Slap!

"How many were those, huh?" he asks your mind fiddles with the remaining brain cells—how many were those? Really. How many?

"Si—six," you somehow manage to sputter, your spit falling on the desk in front of you.

"Good girl," he praises, rubbing his hand on your buttcheek before tracing it down to your folds. His fingers press and nudge against your folds until he rams one finger along your slit. Pushing down, wedging his finger deep inside, he watches your juices coat the length of his finger before he brings it to his nose to give it a good sniff. "I wonder if you're enjoying this punishment, pup. Are you? Are you enjoying this punishment...?"

First, your mind goes haywire when he teases you with that nickname. Pup. Well, you were turning out to be his pet, you might as well roll along with it.

Second, you were certainly enjoying the punishment, liking the way his hands were able to engulf your entire buttcheek at once.

Third, you're forced to slip out of your sanity when he aligns his cock with your hole and slowly sinks in. Your aroused juices proved helpful for him to slip right in. You suddenly start feeling full, the stretch of your walls subsiding into a soothing ache and then it sublimes completely into pleasure. Your desires were getting quenched; inch by inch your cunt swallows him whole, the burn on your walls now pacified by him. He doesn't move when he bottoms out, he keeps his cock sucked deep in you. Keeping one hand on the small of his back, he pushes your nimble body further against the desk—your back arches inwards and prodding your ass out for his easy access. 

"Fuck, such a tight cunt. Got no one to loosen it out, Miss Lee?" he smirks, grunting at the way your walls clenched around him and remains unmoving. "Don't worry, I'll fuck it loose—fuck," you tighten around him listening to his wispy words, "do you want me to, huh, pup? Do you want me to fuck you loose?"

"Yeah—yeah, yeah I'd like that," you murmur, your brain turned into a mush and your body shuddering as he slowly, very slowly, starts moving. He doesn't pull out completely, he keeps his cock buried deep in you and slides in and out at a leisure pace.

"Of course, my pup would like to get fucked senseless," he mumbles, slapping one of your buttcheeks again.

You were fully sure his hand was now printed on your skin in a bright red shade; the soreness didn't matter because the thrill was eating you up and turning it into bliss. Biting back a moan, you keep your breathing steady. Though, you feel your chest shatter entirely when he picks up his pace. Your fingernails start scratching at the varnish on the table, a bit of it getting stuck in them.

"Yes, prof—professor..." you groan, stuttering with his thrusts.

"Nuh-huh, for an obedient puppy like you, I'm your master," he slides his cock out, and rams back into you, letting it plunge deep, "what should you—should you call me, pup?"

"Master," you breathe out, exasperated. "Master, please go faster, fuck! Fuck me harder please, breed your little pup." You cry, genuinely letting tears streak down your cheeks; you were weak already, holding out till he would increase the rhythm of his merciless thrusts.

Something goes off in his head, his hips start snapping at an animalistic pace with your body thrashing against the wooden desk; his hands are all over you, touching you, caressing you, leaving his marks on you. Though, at a point he brings one of his hands to the curve of your back, while his other hand winds itself around your thigh. Seeming seconds drag on with his thrusts curt and sharp, his cock reaching deep in your cunt till you could feel it tauten in the pit of your stomach. Yunho could sense your walls clench around his cock, not liking it one bit—his thrusts start faltering, gradually coming to a halt.

Still buried deep in you, he leans over your back—inching close to your neck, he bites down harshly before whispering, "does my pup want to cum?"

You could discern the slyness in his voice, and you nod your head with your mouth agape, drool glistening down your lower lip and staining your chin. Bearing his size, tuning with his blunt thrusts, and the way his tip was abusing your sweet spot, it was all too much, sending you into a sensory overdrive. At this point, you had zero comprehensible thoughts in your mind except for the heinous acts you were weaving into your body: all of them being about your professor and his huge dick.

"Well, then my pup has to wait a little longer," he grunts close to your ear and then straightens himself up, "master isn't done with his pup yet."

"Can my pup wait a little longer?" he presses his hand down on your back, reluctantly making your walls clench around him.

You're left with no choice but to nod your head again, and it satisfies him; his gradually starts moving again, keeping his thrusts steady and slow. He lets you adjust to him again, and eventually increases his pace. Pulling and shoving himself into you, he starts bucking his hips into your thighs, his grip tightening till his knuckles turn white while you hold onto the edge of the table like your life depended on it. Your body oscillates to and fro, colliding and thumping with the wooden table with his every thrust. The sound of clothes crumpling, and the rattling of his belt buckle, makes your heart race harder in your chest.

You had never imagined you'd be caught in this situation; not that you didn't imagine or fantasise it, you didn't think it'd become a reality. Yeah, it's true that you had countless fantasises about your professor, one of them being fucked while you're bent over his desk—but the probability of him actually fucking you was one in a twenty, considering there were twenty female students in your class. Skin slapping against skin, his cock thrashing balls deep in your tight cunt, you were still mewling in your mind for more. The sensation was diabolical in a way, clustering your brain with unwanted thoughts—hell, you had lost it.

A known tightness tangles itself in your gut, your stomach cherishing the last bit of butterflies it felt before knowing you would flood down on his cock soon. Your senses drop, your stomach twists and knots, your heart runs a miles per hour because his thrusts were helping you chase your high. You were so sure he was going to let you take a break, let you ease out the tightness in your stomach; but to your unbridled surprise, he doesn't. His movements dither, slowing down till he comes to a stop again; he's still buried deep in you, and somehow that caused you more pain than his actual thrusts.

"Aww, my pup is too eager to get off," he mumbles, throwing his head back in pure bliss from your walls still clenched around him, but then he feels you loosen, and he starts pounding into you with a gentle tempo. "Not so soon. You're still getting punished."

He drags on for an hour or so, his thrusts stopping completely sometimes, his cock buried deep in your warmth—eventually he would pick up his pace and ram into your tight little cunt as if it was the last thing he wanted. You had been denied your orgasm a few times, counting it, you had been denied three times so far. Though that pleasure was turning into pain, your belly ached with every inch of strain his cock put on your cunt. Your stomach knots itself for the fourth time, your legs trembling and your yearning crossing your threshold to hold your orgasm in.

The familiarity only grows in your gut, your walls puckering around his cock to milk out his own orgasm; but he knows how to play it off well, he wasn't going to cum before you did. Pressing back into your thighs, he remains unmoving for a second before picking up his pace again, his cock plunges into the deeper void of your cunt, almost protruding the walls to your gut. You have lost your voice to make a sound, one thing—but the other thing was you weren't supposed to make a lot of noise. Swallowing your moans and grunts, you feel your high washing over; your walls tighten around his cock one last time before they're coming undone—releasing you juices all over his cock. Some of it squirts around as his cock still keeps plunging deep into you, a few drops stain his abdomen and get absorbed in his clothes, but he doesn't seem too bothered by it.

"My pup made a mess on my cock," he grumbles, closing his eyes shut as he helps you ease your cunt with a few of his concise and brief thrust. His thighs collide with yours, heat growing between your bodies and your skin slick from sweat and your orgasm. "Such a pretty pup, such a beautiful little baby..." he rambles on his own, incoherent and inaudible, but mostly it was him losing his mind over the trickling warmth of your arousal.

His thrusts become sloppy once he knows he's reaching his high; but he doesn't give out just yet. With a couple more longing and concise thrusts, he lets himself drive his cock deep into your warmth—he counts down the minutes with his ambling pokes till it becomes unbearable for him to hold out. Taking a deep breath and arching his back to let his cock plunge deep, he slides one of his hands on your lower back—pressing, pushing, digging his fingers and palm in your flesh, he releases himself in deep in you. With every thrust, he keeps pulling out till he completely slides out of you. He smirks at the sight his eyes behold, twinkling with a yearning no one knows, not even you; his load dribbles down your pussy, staining your skin in stark white shade, as some of it spurts on your inner thighs.

You're breathless, too fucked to understand anything and thus you couldn't register your surroundings quite well when he flips you over. Grabbing your shoulders, he pushes you down on the ground, having you kneel before him with his cock near your mouth. The veins on his cock were less bulged than before, but his shaft was coated in a thin layer of his cum and glints a bit with your juices.

"Clean me up, pup."

His order doesn't go unheard by you, and as the loyal little puppy you are to him, you hold on to the sides of his thighs and lean in to lick his cock off. At first, it's a weird concoction of saltiness and a little bit of sweetness, soon it fades to nothing. You lap your tongue around his shaft, over and under his tip till you've cleared everything off from his cock—you pull back, smiling dizzily because you were delighted to help him out. Half-lidded eyes trace a line up and you find him staring at down at you, his hand in the process to grab your jaw. Caressing your chin, he pulls you up on your feet and helps you sit on the desk before wrapping his arms around your waist to pull himself closer to you.

"Miss Lee," he whispers, "I'm sure the post-orgasm clarity is now sinking in both of our minds, but we certainly need to address the elephant in the room."

You lean forward to rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes shut for a moment, you take a deep breath in and relax your tensed muscles. "Professor Jeong...I've wanted this to happen for a long time."

"So, you have no regard for me losing my job, do you?" he teases, rubbing circles on your back to soothe you, "Lee Sherri, you really are a brat. Making me break my rules."

"What rules?" you grin, peeking up at him as your wrap your arms around his broad chest.

"I don't date my students," he murmurs, pecking your forehead.

"Who's suggesting you date me?" you chuckle, shaking your head, "we can be fuck buddies."

"Is that what you call it nowadays?" he laughs, heartily, pouting down at you as he continues, "we'll have to be really careful, Sherri. Can't have anyone knowing about us—"

Knock knock!

Your eyes go wide, your heart thumps in your chest and your lips start quivering in fear. On the other hand, Yunho is pretty tame, and he only offers you a reassuring smile.

"Straighten out your clothes and relax. It's no stranger, I've been expecting him actually," he mumbles, breaking apart from your embrace to pull his pants and briefs up.

Whilst he is buttoning his pants and buckling the belt, you too tug your panties up and hop off the desk. You try to smoothen out the creases on your skirt and blouse—your white lacy socks were stained with dust at the knees, but you didn't care about it. The clutter of papers on the desk remains as it is, neither of you bothered to organise it. Professor Jeong smiles at you warmly before heading to the door of the classroom, he unlocks the latch and pulls the doors inside to reveal another man with tall silhouette standing there. 

Professor Song.

"Since when have you been locking your doors, Yun?" the latter teasingly mutters and chortles, stepping past his friend and entering the classroom which reeks of sweat and sex. He sniffs the air and along the lines his eyes land on you, "ah. So, you were having "one-on-one" with your student."

Professor Song wasn't a professor from your department, he was the heartthrob of the physics department, seemingly the kind who would definitely not have any sentiments towards his students or anyone younger to him for that matter. Clad in a plaid shirt and khakis, he too had a body worth breaking the laws for; his toned biceps bulged out of the sleeves he had rolled over to his elbows, his thick thighs (which you've fantasied riding on) were defined by his tight khakis, and hazel eyes were piercing through you with curiosity.

"Miss Lee and I were just discussing, weren't we, Miss Lee?" Yunho calls out from behind him, tugging down on the crotch of his pants for some apparent reason.

"Discussing what?"

You shift your weight on your feet, standing an inch away from the desk (where you were just railed by your professor) and you pull down on your skirt, not knowing why you felt the need to. You eye your tote bag fallen down on the floor, then at the mess of your binder on the table, and one thing becomes clear which is you and Professor Jeong did fuck on the table.

"I was chiding her for not completing her experimental write-ups, Min," Yunho adds, scratching the back of his neck as he comes to stand next to him. "Miss Lee, we'll have a proper discussion about your careless behaviour next time, perhaps tomorrow. Now, you may leave."

You nod, "ye—yes professor."

Hastily, you sprint out of the classroom after gathering your things and stuffing them in your bag in a haphazard way; meanwhile Mingi rolls his eyes at his friend and scoffs.

"Lie to someone else, Yun."

"Fuck you," he grumbles before a conceited smirk takes over his face.

"If you keep your trap shut, maybe we can share."

[ughsimpp]

ATEEZ reaction when you hand him a couples toy

Masterlist

I’m back for now but not sure if i’m officially back yet LOL but i miss y’all, hopefully y’all miss me (more like miss my post)

Hongjoong

You handed him a small box, he was puzzled when you had a gift prepared. He opened it and his eyes went wide. You bought a vibrator toy, it was the ones where you give your partner the remote and they can control the vibrations or speed of the toy that you’re wearing. You weren’t sure if he knew exactly what it was but the second you were about speak he handed you the toy.

“Go put this in.”

You grabbed it from him and was about to go into to the bathroom but he stopped you and told you to just do it in front of him. You removed your shorts and sat down on the couch, slowly inserted it in. It was cold to the touch but as soon as you moved your hand, you felt an automatic vibration. It was vibrating inside like crazy. You were gasping and whining at the sudden sensation. You felt it stop as Hongjoong walked closer to you, having that smug expression on his face.

“This is fun don’t you think? Why don’t we try it again a few more times mhm?”

Seonghwa

You and Seonghwa were getting ready for a date. You were still doing your makeup as Seonghwa was waiting in the bedroom. He waited until you were done and you came out wearing a black dress, showing off your curves. He was at an awe, he walked towards you and leaned in for a kiss. You both headed out and head to the restaurant. You both sat in the car for a bit so you thought it would be a good idea to hand him something, a remote.

"What's this?"

You sat quietly as he looked at the small remote. Confused as ever, he turned it on but noting was happening, that was until he looked up at you and you were squirming uncontrollably, you were breathing heavily as it it finally clicked in his head on what you handed him. Hwa had such a cheeky look on his face. You put yourself in this position so had to take advantage of this.

"Oh baby, you should have never handed me something so powerful."

Yunho

Yunho was sitting on the couch as you walked up to him. He figured you were up to something since you had that innocent but smug look on your face. You sat next to him and tossed him a remote, he looked at the remote and wondered was it for. You told him to turn it on as he did. You softly moaned as his eyes widen.

"Is this what I think it is?"

You nodded as he laughed, getting red from his cheeks to his ears. You whined for him to stop laughing. He tried to clam himself down but saw you making that 'face', he kissed your forehead and gave you a smile but soon that smile became a smirk. He tugged with the remote as you felt the vibration go faster. Your moans got louder as the toy repeatedly hit your sweet spot. Yunho turned it off and picked you up, heading to the bedroom.

"Let's put this toy to the test mhm?"

Yeosang

You and Yeosang's anniversary was tonight, he gifted things like new beauty products, snacks that you've been craving and a fuzzy blanket. As you handed him his present, he was excited. It was the jacket he's been wanting and matching pjs. There was a last gift at the bottom, he opened it and saw a remote. He asked you what it was for but you didn't say much but just for him to turn it on. He did but nothing happened, he put it on full max but still nothing.

"What is this for baby?"

Confused as he was, he looked at you and you were on the verge of crying, wasn't expecting him to put it on the max. You moaned his name to turn it off so you can speak up. His eyes widen as you told him and you coming down from your high. Him being cheeky as ever, he toyed with it again, turning it off and on. He was getting heated from hearing your whimpers and just the state you were in.

"I wonder how long you can last like this before you beg me to fuck you."

San

San, the sweet boy he is, never thought of doing more than missionary in bed. You thought it was time for him to explore. You ordered a toy online as it was gonna arrive in two days. You forgot about it coming in until you saw his text that you had a package. You rushed home and busted through the door, seeing him holding the box.

"Is this for us?"

You blushed from embarrassment and nodded, your eyes were down as San laughed. You thought he may think it was something stupid and a waste of money but you felt him pulled you in for a kiss. The kiss was hot as you felt something pressing against you. You pulled back as saw his bulge growing. He led you to the bedroom and pushed you down onto the bed. His eyes changed, normally they'll be sweet and kind but this time it was as if he was hungry.

"I can do a much better job than that little toy of yours."

Mingi

You and Mingi were roaming the outlet mall, shopping for clothes and what not. You told him you'll be right back and he nodded. You walked into a sex store and stopped at the vibrator section. Sex with him was amazing as always but You were thinking about getting something to spice things up. You paid and went back to Mingi who was standing outside. As you both got home, we rushed to the bedroom called him over. He walked over to you as you handed him the box. His eyes widen as he blushed.

"Is this what you went to go grab earlier? And you wanna try it now?"

You nodded and tried to look innocent but Mingi knew that face. He took off his glasses and smirked, you knew that look so you squealed and got on the bed. Excited to try something new but little did you know, Mingi had other plans with your "new toy". You felt something small and cold vibrating inside but in seconds felt him inside you as well. You gasped loudly and was unable to speak. Mingi was satisfied on how you looked beneath him. You looked at him with those innocent eyes again as he spoke.

"Fuck...don't try to be innocent with me now. Be a good girl, I know you can take it."

Wooyoung

You and Woo were sitting on the couch as you will on a usual Saturday. He was invested in the new K-drama 'Marry My Husband' while you on the other hand was horny and feeling uncomfortable. You had a little dirty secret and he wasn't aware of it. As the episode ended he asked for the remote to play the next part but instead of giving him to TV remote you had him something else. He didn't realize it and pressed the button as you moaned, catching him off guard. He pressed the button once more as you calmed down.

"Are wearing something, as in like a vibrator?"

He didn't know what to say but you nodded, struggling to ask him to turn it on again. He smiled as he finished his drink, leaning closer to you as you looked away. His cheeky smile creeped up as his hand went up your shirt, removing it as the cold air touched your nipples. You moan as he kissed one side and played with the other, unknowingly he grabbed the remote and turned it on, you gasped and moaned loudly. He smiled as you looked at him with teary eyes.

"Aw why is my baby crying? Don't worry I'll take care of you but first let me play with you first."

Jongho

On your honeymoon in Italy, you and Jongho were enjoying your night with a fancy dinner and beautiful Italian music. Your evening was perfect as Jongho had a surprise planned. You weren't expecting something but you also had a surprise for him too, before heading back to the hotel, you both stopped at a nearby coffee shop. You got two Iced Americano and headed out. Walked into the room and saw a the bed covered in roses, bouquet of roses and a bottle of champagne with chocolate covered strawberries on the side table. You were surprised and gave him a kiss.

"I got a surprise for you too."

He wasn't expecting you to have anything prepared. You handed him a box as he opened and saw a vibrator with a remote. He looked at you as you tried to look away. Wasn't sure if he'll know what to do with it but you soon felt his lips on yours. He pushed you down onto the bed with your lips still attached to each other. He kissed down to your neck and chest. You felt his bulge growing as he pulled away, giving you the sexiest look ever.

"I appreciate the gift but tonight I don't think we'll need it, right now I just wanna fuck you."

[yeostars]

𓆩♡𓆪 ateez as girl dads / boy dads / or both ;) imo !! {Maknae line ver.}

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Mingi- boy dad .ᐟ

Mingi having a son just fits so perfectly to me. He's going to be the most random and funniest dad to a son istg. I really need a babycloud ep of mingi playing with jaeyul (PLEASE)

Mingi would love to spoil his son fr. Like imagine mingi and his s/o going shopping with their baby son and whatever the little boy points at or whatever his eyes gleams at, mingi is going to buy that for him in a SECOND. This just popped off to me. He wouldn't spoil him too much but he would love to buy him a few things every now and then because he would do anything to see him be happy.

A huge satisfied smile spreads over his face as he lifts his son (a baby of MONTHS) and spins him around and up and down, and notices his son's small eyes and lips curved into a cheeky grin as he enjoys getting lifted up by his dad. Mingi would quite literally lift him up even when his son grows up just to tease him. Well, he'd obviously stop doing that once he becomes too heavy to be lifted. (find him crying in a corner when he realizes that his son has grown tall enough to be too heavy to be lifted by him, he wonders, WHEN AND HOW DID MY SON GROW UP SO FAST :((( )

Loves to ruffle his son's hair all the time. He lovesss to buy him fashionable clothes and turns his son into a mini fashionista just like him (just like hongjoong too) he is all proud and happy when his son is dressed in a smart & sleek fit.

San- both .ᐟ

Thinking about San being both a girl and boy dad is making me sob. Like, imagine him having a older daughter and a younger son (just like him and his noona) HE WOULD BE A PERFECT DAD TO BOTH HIS KIDDOS :(((

Imagine if he had his older daughter first, (without knowing that he would have a son later!) he'd treat his daughter as an actual princess (just how his noona was treated as one😭) would be so gentle and loving to his daughter fr. Would love to buy her new toys and is fascinated every time he sees her playing with them, and he keeps wondering how quiet and cute she is while she has her play time (like all she needs is toys to he happy? I'd give her a million toys if she's happy by them) His daughter turns out to be shy and quiet, just like his s/o . San adores his daughter so much

Imagine, when his second kid aka his younger son is born, his parenting journey goes quite easily and smoothly because he already has experience when his daughter was born first. Lets take San's daughter to be around 4 years old when her younger brother is born. San is the happiest when he sees his daughter taking care of her younger brother. Most of the time when his son was a toddler, he would be so grateful when his daughter would be ready to babysit him without San and his s/o having to request her for doing so.

San would be soo playful with his son. He'd teach him taekwondo and other sports since an early age. He doesn't even realize that time is passing by as he stares at his two children bonding and playing with each other... he'd never fail to shower both of them with love.

Wooyoung- girl dad .ᐟ

Honestly, not only me but wooyoung HIMSELF said that "daughters are the best" (in that babycloud ep while playing with ayun and arin) implying that he would love to be a girl dad in the future 😭

He would literally be sooo clingy and attached to his baby girl, like he would never leave her side ever since she was born😭 He would love to talk to her and tell her stories about him and his s/o 's childhood and stuff (even tho the poor lil girl can't understand anything cuz she's a mere BABY) well he would tell all that to her again once she's all grown up.

He LOVES to talk to his daughter in baby language, like he always copies every little sound and word thay comes out of her mouth? And his s/o would notice all that & be like " i sure am taking care of not one, but TWO babies🧍‍♀️"

Would definitely turn his daughter into a naughty lil devil just like him. Would judge and tease his s/o together with his daughter all the time, teaches her all the sassy expressions to use against her mum whenever she's scolding her. (all jokes tho, he'd def turn serious and teaches her from right to wrong if she has done a mistake)

Legit treats his daughter like a fragile flower. Spoils her with everything she wants cuz that's his one and only precious child. Kisses her on the cheek all the time, every second and every minute he's endeared by her.

Jongho- both .ᐟ

Took me a long time wondering which category to put Jongho in, but then i thought "he actually seems like he'd be the dad of both a boy and girl, no kidding"

Lets take Jongho being the dad of both a boy and a girl. After both his kids were born, the way he effortlessly takes care of both of them, makes both of them laugh with his silly dad jokes, makes his s/o wonder how being a dad comes so naturally to him.

I feel like he would be such a fun dad. He would play with them all the time and would even do little skits with them, entertains his son and daughter with plenty of horror and ghost stories and funny stories about him and his s/o 's childhood and stuff. He laughs the hardest when his kids are all scared because of the horror stories and his s/o punches him on the arm to make him stop. His family would be such a lively and happy one.

His kids always look forward to Jongho's singing. Jongho always sings plenty of songs and lullabies for both of his kids ever since they were babies. Lets imagine his daughter liking soft ballad songs, he'd be happy to sing all the ballad songs he knows for her. And if his son likes rock based songs, he'd sing such songs for him too. His kids are proud to have a dad who sings so well. Its like whenever he sings at home, he has his kids as a live audience at a karaoke who cherish his singing skills a lot.

Would secretly fuel in the fights of his daughter and son, and would find it so funny that both of them are fighting. His s/o would beg him to stop both of them from fighting but Jongho enjoys the chaos for a while & then stops both of them from ripping each other's hair off 😭

[oceaneyesinla]

I needed to write Chuuya, because he has taken my whole heart

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Chuuya pushed open the door to his office, intending to cross the room to his desk and finish the paperwork still outstanding from his last mission. It had been pushed aside in recent weeks due to unrest in Yokohama, which could only be solved by yet another uneasy alliance with the ADA. It wasn't what he wanted to spend his evening doing, but the quicker he finished, the quicker he could get home.

Instead, he stopped dead just a couple of paces inside, blinking slowly at the sight before him - you, his girlfriend, waving at him from the fancy velvet couch he splurged on when he became an executive. Of course, having you there wasn't a problem; on the contrary, he loved having you nearby, and he would never pass up an opportunity to see your pretty face.

Problem was, you never should have been able to get into the building, much less up to the executive offices, only a floor below Mori-san's own. He would criticise the Port Mafia members protecting the building, but he knew from experience just how cunning you could be, and working with Dazai day in, day out only made you more of a menace.

“You don't look happy to see me, Chuuya.” You pushed out your bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, and you had never looked cuter. He moved to cradle your face, running a thumb over your plush lip.

“You know that's not true, angel. I'm just wondering how you got in here.”

Your pout was quickly replaced by a bright smile and a mischievous shine in your eyes, “A master can't reveal their secrets! What if you block my entrance and I have to find another way in?”

“Pretty sure nothing would stop you for too long. I know you and shitty Dazai memorised the place years ago.”

You took his hand in your own, pressing a kiss to his palm even as that cheeky smile remained in place, “That doesn't sound like something we would do. Anyway, I only did it so I could come and see Chuuya whenever I want.”

That, he was grateful for. He had already been envisioning you, shuffling around in an empty apartment, waiting for him to come home. Having you here, sitting pretty for him on his couch, was the best motivation for him to finish up quickly. After all, his girl needed to eat, and he needed to wrap you up in his arms in your shared bed.

“Can't leave straight away, angel. Mori-san needs this paperwork.” He tried to soften the blow by smoothing a hand over your hair, brushing a few stray strands behind your ear.

Your smile morphed into something softer, and he loved you a little more for understanding just what being a Port Mafia executive entailed, “I figured. You've been running yourself ragged the last few weeks, partnering up with us. I came here to wait for you, so we can go home together.”

His sweet girl. He leaned down, pressing a chaste but loving kiss to your lips, reluctantly pulling away to take a seat at his desk. As he started to write, pen scratching against the paper, you pulled out a book - the latest volume of your favourite manga, he noted with a smile.

It turned out the work was a lot more bearable when every so often, he could flick his eyes upwards and watch you enjoy your manga; silent gasps and mouthed words escaping you every so often. It was entertaining, to be privy to your excitement. He knew he would get a detailed retelling of the story thus far, and he couldn't wait.

With a final signature, his work for the evening was done. Mori-san could have it first thing in the morning. Right now, he had far bigger priorities. You had stopped shuffling in the last few minutes, and when his eyes travelled to you, he had to hold back an affectionate chuckle.

You had turned onto your side, facing the room, your manga tucked into your arms like the world's most uncomfortable teddy bear. Your cheek was smushed against the fabric of the pillow tucked under your head, and he thanked his past self for investing in such expensive cushions. Only the best for his girl. To top it all off, your mouth was slightly open, little puffs of air escaping you as you slept.

All in all, you looked silly, you looked comfortable, and you looked like the most beautiful thing he had ever set his eyes upon. How he got so lucky as to have you in his life, he wasn't sure, but he would never take your presence for granted.

With a smile he knew was far too fond for a hardened Port Mafia executive, he tidied up his loose ends and made sure everything was in order. Once he was ready to leave, he quietly approached the couch, slipping one arm under your knees and one under your back, gently lifting you up and cradling you against his chest. He tried to jostle you as little as possible, but years of living in the darkness of Yokohama's underworld meant you stirred anyway. You relaxed almost instantly, though, resting your head against his shoulder and nuzzling against his neck.

“We goin’ home?” Your words were muffled by the skin of his neck, and still sleep heavy. He tightened his arms around you just a little, holding you closer against him.

“Yeah, angel, we're going home.”

You pulled away from him just enough to let him see your sleepy smile before your head thunked against his shoulder once more. He didn't need to look to know you were already slipping into sleep again.

Getting out of the building was easier than he expected - he had visions of bumping into Mori-san, or Akutagawa. Thankfully, the only person he saw was Gin, who took one look at the precious cargo he carried and pointedly looked away.

He slid you into the front seat of his car, carefully buckling you in and pressing a kiss to your forehead before circling to the driver's seat. When he got in, he turned his head to find your eyes watching him, slow blinks doing nothing to mask your adoration. He felt a flush in his cheeks at the attention - after all this time, he still wasn't used to your open, unshakable love for him.

“Love you, Chuuya.” You reached out to squeeze his hand, and when he tangled your fingers together and lifted your hand to his lips, the smile you gave him could have lit all of Japan.

“Love you too, angel.”

[hanjisungslag]

attack on titan headcanons #11

synopsis: when aot characters get drunk🍺

characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, jean, connie, sasha reiner, bertolt, annie, levi, erwin and hange

notes: exams are finally over and its SUMMAA so i switched up my theme, rip coquette hanjisungslag u will b missed x

☆ eren jaeger

loves a strong bow and a corona on a warm summers day x

is a lightweight

one beer and he is off his rocker

gets hyper in several different ways, happy, giggly, angry etc.

passed out by 22:00

☆ mikasa ackerman

she’s a cider girlie!!

loves a remodelling & kopparberg (strawberry & lime and mixed fruits specifically)

tries some people’s gins and vodkas and it ain’t for her

she’s a lightweight too

she’s so shocked how hard it hits her

she’s a lot more chatty and giggly

goes red in the cheeks > <

☆ armin arlert

he tries beer. doesn’t like san miguel. hates stella.

will take a corona on a sunny day though…

but he likes a cider!

he looovveesss any fruity drinks

he’s not a lightweight or heavyweight, good middle ground

gets sooo chatty

the type of drunk to info dump on you / talk about their special interests

☆ jean kirsten

drinks mostly everything. strongbow, cider, maybe be cheeky and have a rum!

also tequila tbh

he’s a bit of a lightweight tbh

but he refuses to admit it 😭

he’s a chill drunk, he’ll sit and chat and drink

but bro is RAVENOUS like he will eat a fuckin buffet and a half afterwards.

spends more money on food than actual drink

☆ sasha braus

AH SHE LOVES A PITCHER FROM SPOONS X

her, ymir and historia deffo get some refreshing, fruity pitchers between em all.

they’re literally just girls… 😖

she’s a lightweight duhhh!!

she’s 100% busting a move on the dance floor

there’s also a liability.

and she is that liability. she is constantly running off

☆ connie springer

 MY GUY IS A VODKA MAN I SAID IT

he gets sooo drunk

like i’m talking running away with sasha, doing karaoke, dancing, chatting to EVERYONEE

THE no 1. yapper when drunk

by the end of the night he was 10 new best friends, invited to three weddings and several after parties.

he’s deffo the one who ends up being sick but he’s so ready to drink afterwards😭(don’t let him)

☆ reiner braun

heavyweighhhhttt

he starts off with ‘man’ drinks like san miguel, stella etc.

HOWEVAA i know this man loves a voddy and coke and gin.

i just know when this man is pissed and wants another one he is getting his bloody pink gin

he’s rizzing people up sooo hard like reiner stawp 😜

he’s so sweet and pookie when drunk like he’s just chatting and hugging all his friends

☆ bertolt hoover

actually loves a san miguel

everyone’s so surprised by this?

he’s also a heavyweight

he’s tall ok, more of him to get drunk

when he’s drunk HES A TALKERR

it’s like it’s all been built up and now he’s exploding with words and conversations

deffo says way too much for his liking and regrets it deeply in the morning.

expect an apology message in the morning (even tho he has nothing to apologise for, bless)

☆ annie leonhart

heavy weight

this girl is on vodkas with lemonade hmk x

when she’s drunk she’s soo red

she’ll find someone to just sit and chill with

doesn’t want to embarrass herself or bring attention to herself.

she’s so funny when she’s drunk

pulls out ALL the stops when it comes to jokes

she’s always giggling at everyone doing some dumb shit

☆ levi ackerman

heavy weight!

he doesn’t drink much anyways

but if he is, its whiskey or tia maria in some coffee

he’s usually the one watching everyone, not getting too drunk

making sure no one is dead x

but he always ends up tipsy at the least

although he’s supposed to be baby sitting

he cant help but slightly smirking at anything anyone says.

☆ erwin smith

heavy weight once again

doesn’t like to get too drunk

he’s an old man now cmon

my man is drinking wine like merlot, pino, etc

he’s so elegant when drinking

but by the end of the night his hair is messed up baddd

he says loads of stuff and regrets it.

obviously it’s nothing too extreme but just him being silly

gets super sleepy though. wine drunk 🙁

☆ hange zoë

SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS

literally adores shots

just goes crazy on them tbh

after an hour, they’re buying shots for EVERYOONNNEEE

definitely broke by the end of the night.

has to start giving themselves a limit every time they go out

ANYWAYS an absolute party animal

hitting up the clubs

hitting the DANCE FLOOR DUH!

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 32]

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

"Ready to go?" Yunho poked his head into the kitchen. You nodded, putting away the cloth you were using to wipe the counters. He smiled and straightened up, walking in. The both of you grabbed your things from the locker room.

"Have fun~" Hongjoong wished while the rest of the boys waved to you and Yunho.

"Thank you." You cleared your throat, looking away shyly. Yunho laughed and waved to his friends before opening the back door for you to walk out first.

"Today was a good day." Yunho said, immediately holding your hand.

"Mhmm, the items moved quite fast. Luckily we had extra ingredients to make an extra batch of muffins." You chuckled.

"So, you're not going to tell me what this date entails?" You raised an eyebrow as Yunho opened the passenger door for you. Yunho shook his head, making the action of zipping his lips.

"We're going to play. That's all I'm telling you." He had a cheeky grin on his face.

"Oh but first, before we go, customary to every date." Yunho reached into the back seat and presented you with a bouquet of flowers. You softened as you held the bouquet in your arms. With Yunho always giving you different types of bouquets, you have grown to appreciate flowers a lot more.

"Thank you, Yunho. They're always so pretty." Reaching over, you held his face and brought it closer to you so you could give him a peck on the cheek.

"You're welcome." He smiled, reaching over to hug you. You giggled as you watched his ears turn red.

"Alright, let's go." Yunho started the car. He reached over to hold your hand, other hand resting on the steering wheel to drive.

"We're here!" Yunho stopped the car, parking. From the parking lot, you were not exactly sure which shop Yunho was going to bring you too. Yunho ran over to your side, helping you out.

"I can't even begin to guess which shop we're going to." You chuckled, stepping out.

"Stop trying to guess and enjoy the surprise. Also, you might not want to bring the flowers." Yunho advised. Your eyes widened.

"Okay, now I'm slightly scared." You joked but turned around to leave the bouquet in the passenger seat. Yunho reached around you to lock the car, not acknowledging the slight fear he made you feel. You held his hand and let him lead you.

"Ta da!" He stopped in front of the shop you were both going to. You looked up at the sign.

"I don't get it, you brought me to your home?" You turned to him, a playful glint in your eye. Yunho shot you a flat look, not finding your joke funny.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny." He rolled his eyes, making you laugh. Yunho decided to bring you to a dog cafe.

"I mean, I love it. But can I ask why you chose this place?" You tilted your head.

"Well, I know you haven't been feeling too great, with your dad and all... I read that being around dogs can help release serotonin, which makes you happy, calm and relaxed." He explained.

"Thank you... Yunho. It means a lot." You hugged him. Inside, you were a pile of mush. You knew you didn't deserve him.

"I guess this explains why I feel happier with you around, being around you helps me release serotonin." You giggled. Yunho scoffed, pinching your waist. But before you let him go, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. With an arm around you, Yunho guided you into the shop. He gave his name to the staff.

"You have to order two drinks. You can add on cakes and snacks if you'd like." The lady said, showing you the menu. Yunho ordered coffees for the both of you.

"Alright, I'll bring it to you. This first bag of treats are free. If you want more, it's chargeable." She informed.

"Thank you." You and Yunho bowed, receiving the small bag of treats.

"Shall we sit here?" Yunho suggested a small corner table. You nodded and sat with him in the corner, watching as all the different types of dogs moved around the cafe.

"Luckily we're here on a Monday. It's less crowded." You noted. There was only one other family there.

"Hi, cutie." Yunho watched as a dog approached you, sniffing you cautiously. You smiled softly, stroking the dog's head.

"You're so cute. Have a treat." You carefully laid the treat on your hand, letting the dog eat out of you palm. Once Yunho received your drinks, he came to sit next to you. Seeing you feed the dogs passing so gingerly, he wanted to help you.

"I'll bring them over for you." He said with determination, pouring all the treats onto his hands.

"Yunho, you don't have to-" But it was too late, the dogs excitedly ran over at once, jumping and tackling Yunho to the ground. You took a video of him before smothered by the dogs.

"Are you okay? Do you need help?" You asked.

"N-No! I'm fine. We're just playing." He replied, getting licked in the cheek by one of the dogs. A husky jumped into his lap.

"Oh." You turned when you felt a presence beside you. A golden retriever obediently sat beside you, meeting your eyes. You smiled softly, letting him smell you.

"Hi there. Want a treat?" You giggled, reaching up to rub the dog's ears. He let his tongue fall out of his mouth, showing his content. You took another treat that you had and held it up to him.

"You're so gentle." You cooed as he bit the treat gingerly, as if careful not to accidentally bite you. He seemed to want to be closer to you, carefully stepping his front paws into the space between your legs until his body was almost pressed against yours. You ran your hands down his sides, fluffing his fur.

"Cute..." You smiled. The golden retriever suddenly rested his head on your shoulder, making you wrap your arms around him to hug him.

"Usually Leon is quite active, I've never seen him so docile." One of the staff said to you as she walked pass, watching how Leon just wanted you to hug him.

"Really? He's so sweet and gentle..." You chuckled. Leon nuzzled his head into against your cheek, his tail thumping on the ground excitedly.

"Is that your name, handsome? Leon?" You held his face. He reached out to lick you, as if he was confirming your words.

"You're a good boy, Leon." You giggled.

Yunho, who managed to get away from the puppy pile, sat up and realised you were no longer beside him. But he saw you sitting slightly away, smiling and hugging the golden retriever that stood in your space.

"(y/n)." Yunho came to sit with you, eyeing the golden retriever, who comfortably laid his head on you.

"Oh, Yunho. You managed to escape. This is Leon, he's so sweet and docile. He might be your long lost brother." You stifled a laugh. Yunho clicked his tongue.

"He isn't!" He hissed. Yunho reached out to hold your hand but Leon let out a low growl, surprising the both of you.

"Yah, she's mine." Yunho growled back.

"Are you seriously fighting with a dog, now? He's innocent, he just wants some hugs and love, isn't that right, Leon?" You giggled, hand continuing to stroke Leon and coo at him.

"No, he doesn't. He probably just wants the treats for himself. Selfish." Yunho scoffed. You burst out laughing.

"Yun, you know I'm on this date with you, right?" You pointed out. Yunho pouted, not replying you as he drank his drink. Seeing him sulk, you couldn't help but give in to him. You left Leon and sat beside him, basically leaning your body against him. Yunho's arm came to wrap around you.

"Ha! Can't even remain loyal. Look at him, going to another person just because he has treats." Yunho said, watching Leon give another couple attention because the girl had treats in her hand.

"Hey." You grasped his chin, making him tear his eyes away and face you instead.

"You're the one I like, hmm?" You tilted your head. Yunho nodded, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

"I'll always be loyal to you and you only." He smiled. You rolled your eyes but the smile never left your face. Yunho wrapped his arms around you, lifting you onto his lap.

"This is indecent. There are kids here." You slapped his arm.

"No, it's not. Get your head out of the gutter." He teased. You pursed yours lips, looking away.

"Aww, look at how small this one is." You cooed, leaning down to pet the small dog. It shivered in its spot, making your heart melt. It must be scared with all the big dogs around. Taking one of your final treats, you held it out to the small dog.

"All the big dogs always get all the attention, huh?" You giggled, rubbing the dog's ear. It contently leaned into your touch, it's hind leg thumping happily.

"You're good with dogs, have you ever had one?" Yunho asked, watching you melt over this small dog.

"Nope, I always wanted one but my dad never allowed one on our estate." You stated.

"Yunho, I know what you're thinking. Please, don't get me a dog. It's sweet and I really appreciate it but I know I can't dedicate the time it needs to care for it properly." You raised an eyebrow at him.

"I-I wasn't thinking that!" He choked but his red ears gave him away. You pinched his cheek, he was predictable by now.

Honestly, Yunho didn't care too much about the dogs. Not that he didn't like dogs. But he was here for you and all that mattered to him was that you were having a good time. He was happy that you were relaxed and comfortable around him. Plus, he felt so warm seeing you interact so gently with the dogs.

Without knowing, you were staring at Yunho while he spaced out. You could tell how tired he was, waking up early with you and having to run the restaurant with the morning crowd.

"Shall we head back?" You suggested. Yunho broke out of his daze, looking at his watch.

"Sure." Yunho nodded, helping you stand up.

"Goodbye, Leon. Be good." You laughed as you kissed his head. You couldn't leave without giving the golden retriever some goodbye pets and affection, much to Yunho's annoyance.

"Alright, that's enough. Let's go." Yunho held your hand and took you out of there.

"So, where do you want to go now? It's too early for dinner." Yunho asked as you both walked in the direction of the car.

"Shall we just head back? We can rest." You suggested. You could keep going but you knew that Yunho was tired, you wanted him to get some rest.

"You sure?" He tilted his head. You nodded with a hum. Yunho wasn't going to argue, deep down, he was feeling the exhaustion of this morning hit him. He wanted to take a nap with you. So he opened the door for you and drove back to his home.

When you entered, you split up to get showered. Yes, Yunho still insisted that you shower in his en suite bathroom. You went to grab your comfy clothes to change into after showering.

"Ah..." You slapped your forehead, digging through your overnight bag.

"What's wrong?" Yunho came over, concerned.

"I must have forgotten to pack my spare sleep shirt. I only have my shorts, I think I left it on my bed and forgot to pack it... It's fine, I'll wear last night's shirt instead." You shook your head.

"(y/n), you don't have to rewear your shirt. You can just borrow mine." He chuckled. You looked at him in confusion.

"You're my girlfriend. Of course you can help yourself to my closet." He said, walking over to his set of drawers to retrieve a shirt.

The thought never crossed your mind. You have worn Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho's clothes but it was different, wearing Yunho's clothes. It was more intimate. But you weren't turned off at that. And him saying you're his 'girlfriend' solidified in your head that Yunho was really going to be a constant in your life.

"Here you go." He handed you one of his comfier black shirts. You received it gratefully with two hands before the two of you split up again to have your showers.

"He really is a giant." You couldn't help but laugh when you looked at your reflection. Yunho's shirt was so big it covered the shorts you wore.

When Yunho came out, his legs nearly gave out at the sight of you swimming in his shirt. It looked like you were wearing a dress.

"Might be a little big on you." He laughed, making you turned around.

"Just a tad." You replied with a grin of your own before continuing what you were doing. You used Yunho's hairdryer to dry your hair, not wanting to wait for your hair to dry before sleeping.

"Come." You waved him over. Yunho obediently walked over to you. You made him sit on the closed toilet bowl before helping him dry his hair.

"My mother always said going to bed with wet hair will give you a headache." You explained.

"She's a smart woman, not going to argue with that." Yunho shrugged. You smiled at his words, Yunho just always knew what to say. You loved the way he spoke about your mother with no wariness or hesitation. Almost as if they have actually met before.

"Are we done yet?" Yunho whined, pressing his ear against your middle as his long arms wrapped around your thighs.

"Yeah, just let me comb it or your hair's gonna stick out everywhere." You chuckled, using your fingers to try and tame Yunho's hair. He patiently stayed still.

"You can go to bed first. I still have a little bit more of my hair to dry." You told him, patting his back.

"No, it's okay." Of course Yunho was going to wait for you. He wasn't THAT tired that he was going to leave you.

"Okay, I'm finally done." The moment you put the hairdryer back into the holder, Yunho swept you up in his arms, making you yelp in surprise and hold onto him.

"Yunho!" You slapped his chest. He let out playful giggles before placing you down on the bed.

"This is now your side of the bed." Yunho smiled proudly. You raised an eyebrow at him as he hugged you and snuggled against you until you could only hug his head. He felt his chest get warm at the feeling of you relaxing in his embrace and lean your head on top of his. Lifting your hand, he kissed your knuckles.

"You smell like me... Hehehe..." He laughed contently to himself.

"Go to sleep, Yunho." You mumbled, stroking his head. It didn't take long for Yunho to do just that, softly snoring as he hugged you to sleep like you were a pillow.

"You must have been really tired..." You gently stroked his cheek. He didn't even flinch or move.

You thought back to the events of today. You feel so different with Yunho, a good different. It almost scared you when you think about how happy he makes you and how happy you are with him.

A part of you still worried that this was too good to be true. But you didn't want to let Yunho go. You didn't know what your life would return to if he wasn't here anymore.

"I love you..." You whispered softly. Did you have the courage to say it to him when he was awake? No. Not yet, at least.

"I promise I'll be better to you. For you." You said to him.

"Please be patient with me... Don't leave me just yet." You continued, feeling tears well up in your eyes but you blinked them away, not wanting them to fall on him. For now, you just savour every moment spent with him. You smiled softly, closing your eyes to sleep.

When Yunho woke up, he was alone in bed. He stretched his limbs out and reached for his phone to check the time. It was almost 8pm, he didn't intend to sleep for so long.

"(y/n)?" He sat up, calling out to you. There was no reply but small sounds coming from the kitchen.

"(y/n)?" Yunho shuffled out to the kitchen. There you were, with your hair up and AirPods in, facing the stove and busy cooking dinner.

"What are you cooking?" Yunho wrapped his arms around you, making you jump in surprise. You turned around to face him and gave him a light disapproving tap on the chest.

"Don't do that..." You frowned. But you removed your AirPods, tucking them back into the case.

"What are you cooking?" He repeated his question, totally unfazed by your scolding, even resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Just a simple dinner. I ordered groceries earlier since your fridge is empty. Luckily they do same day delivery, they came rather quickly." You replied.

"Right... We could have ordered in, you didn't have to cook if you were too tired to." Yunho cleared his throat. He turned to look at your profile, you didn't say that to embarrass him or make fun of him for having no food in the house. You were simply stating what you did. He let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm fine. Besides, I'd much rather cook than eat out." You shrugged. Plus, you wanted to do something nice for Yunho after all that he does for you. This was the best way to repay him.

"You still haven't told me what you're cooking." Yunho pointed out.

"I'm surprised you haven't guessed it yet... It's your favourite food. Like, ever." You stated.

"Abura soba?!" Yunho's jaw dropped in disbelief. You let out a hum in confirmation. You yelped as Yunho suddenly grabbed your waist and lifted you up.

"Yunho! Put me down!" You squirmed.

"I'm just so happy! You're making me abura soba! And here I was, going to complain that you made me wake up to an empty bed." He grinned, giving you a big kiss on the cheek and put you down.

"Dramatic, much?" You rolled your eyes. You went back to the stove to continue cooking the individual toppings.

"I made both braised minced meat and rolled pork belly chashu, I wasn't sure which you prefer. Although, I guess you would eat both." You chuckled. Yunho nodded and gave a thumbs up, even leaning in closer so you could let him try it.

"Too salty?" You tilted your head.

"Nope. Perfect." His eyes sparkled. You laughed again, Yunho was so enthusiastic about food, you loved it. A part of you just wanted to constantly make food for him.

"For somone that doesn't cook, you sure have an arsenal of knives, pots and pans." You said.

"My mother. She comes over and cooks for me some times. Usually, she drops off side dishes." Yunho explained.

"Can I help with anything?" Yunho asked.

"Actually, I'm already done. Like I said, it's quite a simple dish. All that's left is to boil the noodles. Can you get out the bowls and cutlery for me, please?" You asked.

"Of course." He kissed your temple and went to get the right bowls out. After setting the bowls down, Yunho stood by your side, watching in awe as you assembled a bowl of abura soba for him. He wanted to take his phone out to record the moment but at the same time, he wanted this to be his memory only.

~

Series masterlist

[popponn]

weekend news, at night. [itoshi sae x reader]

note: while im cooking i will take a break from writing by writing. no warning, use of japanese honorifics, written with post canon in mind but not explicitly said. a fluff, as usual. and am i truly in love with this guy now. writing something with him in mind is a stress reliever. somehow. un beated, not proofreaded.

“Ah! Sae-san!” you swooned, your hands clapping dramatically as you smiled towards the flat, cold expression Itoshi Sae displayed within the TV.

Across you, another Itoshi Sae—the real one, the living one—watched you with an expression that was somehow even flatter. While you did realize the judgmental stare he was giving to you, who sat across him on the dining table, you chose to promptly ignore him. Sae, who had been watching this display for an hour, decided that it was time to question your brain, “What are you doing?”

“Hmm. Fangirling, I think?” you answered whilst propping your chin on your palms. Never once your eyes left the TV on the living room. “Sae-san’s expression there is really good. I like cool guy who is pretty dry.”

At that very moment, Sae truly wondered if you finally snapped. He had heard about the negative effects of overworking and you did sleep for two hours per day for a week. The fact you pretty much went on a full day hibernation yesterday was a testament to that. But then he remembered how you sometimes gets when teasing him and maybe the slight signs of insanity had always been there.

“I’m here,” Sae eventually decided to say.

“I know, Sae. You are,” you replied. You did not spare a glance towards him as you cheered the moment Oliver Aiku entered the screen, “Ah, Aiku-chan, as handsome as always! Oh, isn’t that Isagi-kun in the background? I miss him!”

Sae really wanted to go to bed all of sudden. He didn’t want to deal with you like this on a rare, empty weekend night.

Therefore, with that in mind, Sae closed his tab and stood up. “I’m going to sleep,” he told you before promptly walking to your shared bedroom.

He could only took a few steps before he was suddenly stopped by, hugging him with a cheeky smile staring directly into him. Sae frowned and your grin grew wider. A thin veil of apology laced your words as you wrapped your hands around his back even tighter, “Sorry. Was it to much for you, Sae-san?”

His eyebrows furrowed at the nickname, “Drop it.”

You laughed, then somehow pulled him towards the bedroom whilst walking backwards like a penguin. The sour expression Sae wore didn’t fade, however he followed you nonetheless without making you letting go of him. “Sorry, sorry. Really, this time. But seeing you being that rude while being so cute really refreshed me!”

Hearing your reasoning, Sae didn’t hold back, “Is your brain really okay?”

“Has anyone who overworked for a whole week ever have an okay brain?” you asked back lightly and somehow bitterly. As the two of you approached the door, Sae pushed the tablet he had been holding in one hand towards you.

“Hold it,” he said. Thankfully, you didn’t try anything funny this time, accepting it with one hand whilst draping the other on his shoulder. Sae rested a palm behind your head and opened the bedroom door.

You let out a coo, almost identical to the one you gave to the screen just a few moments ago, “Aw. Sae wants to cuddle with me?”

Sae didn’t even bother to gave you a reply as he closed the bedroom door, the two of still embracing each other while walking to the bed like a pair of actual goddamn penguins kissing each other.

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - One

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

This is my first original fic after The Pilot and his Girl and it will be a very different read (just in case you're totally traumatised by The Pilot...😬)

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve short stories, each set in the same bakery. The plan is to post one chapter every Sunday night so hold me to that schedule when my procrastination kicks in!

Warnings won't be very serious, just lots of fluff, lots of food, some mention of drugs because you know some of these Pedro boys are just like that.

Series Master List

@harriedandharassed tagging you in this because you said you wanted to read anything new ❤❤❤

The drawback of being a baker is that your working day starts when others are still tucked in bed with hours left to sleep. Or just coming home from a party. But you don’t mind all that much, there’s a certain tranquil peace to being awake and working in the bakery while the rest of the world sleeps. 

In the warmer months you prop open the back door so that you can hear the birds starting to sing as the sky slowly grows lighter outside, today is just one of those mornings. 

The early morning radio show is on low in the background as you prepare the day. Yesterday's loaves have proofed overnight in the cold storage and are ready for the oven, the pie doughs taken out and softening while you prepare the cookie doughs. 

People don’t often knock on the bakery's back door before you open for the day, but it happens, so when you suddenly hear someone shuffle and knock, you’re not surprised. Wiping your hands on your apron you turn the corner into the small back room. A man is leaning on the door frame, but not the sexy, romance novel leaning. No, this man is leaning in a ‘lean-or-fall-over’ kinda way. His eyes are covered by large black sunglasses that he pulls down as you spot him, a tired but cheeky smirk on his face. 

“Hey, baker girl,” he grins, his voice gravelly like he’s chain smoked all night, “got any sna- oh whoops!” he giggles madly as he loses his balance and tumbles sideways, catching the other door frame before he grabs onto your arms and almost manages to stand up straight. 

“You might need coffee, not snacks,” you say, holding onto him to stop him from falling face forward into your apron.  

“I’m fine,” he grins, pushing himself upright again but still holding on to the door frame, “I just came from this party, were you there?,” he asks, giving you another over the glasses look, this time clearly checking you out as his eyes drag up and down your form, lingering on your pink crocs. 

“Actually, I would’ve remembered if you were there, love the crocs,” he chuckles. 

“What’s wrong with my crocs?” you ask, slightly offended, “They’re great for people like me, you know, people who actually work on Thursdays.” 

“No, no, I mean it, I love your crocs!” the man says, wide eyed and shoving his glasses up in his wild curls, “I have like ten crocs, one pair is pink too.” 

He furrows his eyebrows, giving you a confused look, “Wait, it’s Thursday?” 

“Yeah, five am, Thursday morning,” you say, wondering how to get rid of this disheveled man so that you can get back to the cookie dough. 

“Fuck, oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck….” the man groans, bending double and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, “I’m so fucked…I thought it was Wednesday.” 

He stands up again and you can’t help but feel sorry for him, he looks devastated. 

“I was meant to fly out to San Antonio yesterday and take my nice to Six Flags for her birthday, and I fucking missed it!” 

He slumps against the door frame and thumps the back of his head against it repeatedly, moaning, “I’m such a fuck up, I’m such a fuck up.” 

“Hey, take it easy, I’m sure it’ll be fine, just apologize and take her another day,” you say, putting your hand on the man’s arm to stop him from giving himself a concussion in your bakery, “I’m sure she’ll understand.” 

“You think?” he says, “I’m not the best at remembering birthdays, I may have missed a few in the past.” 

“Well, then she’ll be mad at you, but all you can do is apologize right? And try to make it up to her as best you can.” 

“Yeah…yeah…maybe you’re right, thanks baker girl.” He gives you a lopsided smile and you notice the smudges of dark eyeliner around his eyes, “How about those snacks? I’m fucking starving.” 

You can’t help but laugh, the man’s a mess but somehow adorable at the same time with his wild hair and stained t-shirt. 

“Sure, I’ll get you something, what do you like?”

“Do you have sausage rolls?” he asks, following you into the kitchen, “I fucking love sausage rolls.”

“What, like those things they made on the Great British Bake Off?” you reply, opening your walk in fridge to survey the snack options. 

“Yeah, I did this movie once, in England, and there was a bakery next to my apartment and whenever I got back from a party, early morning, I’d knock on their back door and they’d sell me these fat sausage rolls, fresh from the oven, fucking amazing.” 

“Sorry, no sausage rolls in this bakery,” you say, “but my cookies will be done soon, if you can wait.” 

You turn back to the man and realize he’s wandering around the kitchen, sticking his nose in your bowls, sniffing loudly. 

“Hey, don’t stick your finger in that,” you say, “Health and Safety are going to have my license if they catch you.”

“Sorry, I’ve just got the munchies, I’ve been high for like, two days,” he says, waving his arms around, “this place is torture for a high pers-OH! Do you know what I love?”

“No,” you sigh, exasperated, “I don’t know what you love.”  

He completely misses your tone as he spins in a circle around the kitchen and you realize that he’s wearing what looks like very expensive pajama pants and no shoes, just socks.

“I love those…what do you call them, like…millionaire’s something?” 

“Millionaire's shortbread?” you ask and he spins around to you with a big grin. 

“Yes! Those! With like the chocolate and the peanut butter and they’re like the best Reese’s ever, only even more fucking amazing. Can you make those?”  “I don’t know, maybe,” you begin and the man actually falls to his knees, shuffling over the floor to you. 

“Please, I’ll do anything, I’m dying here, beautiful baker girl, make me happy!”

“Are you asking me to bake for you or proposing?” you laugh, this man is too ridiculous as he grins up at you. 

“If you make them for me, I won’t marry you, but there are many other things I can do,” he says, pulling down his dark sunglasses from his head and winking at you from over the edge, his cheeky grin making it impossible to scowl at him. 

“Fine, I’ll make them for you, just get up from my floor, please,” you say, reaching for his hand. He takes yours with a bright smile, kissing the back of it, before he stumbles to his feet and follows you over to your big workbench.

“I’m Dieter, by the way. Can I sit here?” he asks, pointing to the stool that stands next to the bench. 

“Nice to meet you Dieter,” you say, “sure, go ahead, it’s got wheels on it though so be careful.” 

“Awesome,” Dieter says and sits down, immediately speeding across the floor with a kick of his socked feet. He stops himself from crashing into the fridge door by grabbing on to the handle before he shoots off again, rolling all the way over to the open back door. 

“Don’t fall out through the door please,” you call after him and you hear him giggle, a second later he comes spinning into the kitchen again. 

“This thing is awesome, I need to buy one for my house.” 

“Happy you’re enjoying yourself,” you laugh and walk to where yesterday’s bakes are stacked on trays. You’d made a layer of shortbread yesterday, you were planning on making lemon bars but Millionaire’s shortbread will work too. As you bring it over to your work station Dieter rolls past you and stops by the bench.  “Can I help?” he asks, looking up at you, his sunglasses back in his messy hair. He’s kinda cute when you think about it, gorgeous brown eyes, and the smile he’s giving you is open and curious with an adorable dimple. 

“Yeah, sure, you can be in charge of peanuts,” you say, walking over to the dry storage, “They need to be bashed into chunks with a rolling pin, something tells me that’s something you can probably handle.” 

“That sounds fun, please, direct me,” he says, kicking himself over to the storage cupboard on the stool. 

“Oops, sorry,” he giggles, grabbing hold of your hips to stop himself from crashing into the storage door, “I kicked too hard that time.” 

“Go easy there, Dieter,” you laugh as he untangles himself from the stool and stands up. You get on your tiptoes to grab the peanuts and suddenly realize he’s still holding on to your hips, standing close behind you. You swear you feel his nose brush the side of your head, a quick inhale from him, and then he steps back, letting go. 

“Peanuts?” he says, leaning past you and reaching up to grab the bag sitting just out of your reach. His arm brushes over yours and he’s suddenly very close again, his citrusy after shave, mingling with the heady sweet smoke of weed, fills your senses. 

“Uhh…y-yeah,” you stutter, “thanks. And the dark chocolate if you can reach it.” 

“Sure, this one?” he asks, grabbing the bag of Valrhona from the shelf. This time his chest is pressed against your back, you really should move out of his way, but he’s right behind you, almost pinning you in place, as he has to stretch to his full length to reach. And you find that you don’t mind at all, he’s warm and solid behind you, and this is more action than you’ve had in months. 

“That’s the one, thanks,” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. 

Dieter brings it down to your level and you take it from him, expecting him to step back and give you room to go back to the work bench. But instead he stays right behind you, and this time you really do feel him bend down and brush his nose over your cheek, down to where your neck meets your shoulder. 

“You smell delicious, like a cookie,” he mumbles and your heart literally skips a beat. 

“Th-thanks,” you splutter and when Dieter steps back, letting you move, you avoid his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn. 

“S-so the…umm…rolling pin is on that shelf there,” you say, pointing down to your right, “and there’s a measuring cup too, just…umm…just get a cup of peanuts, and put them in a plastic bag and bash away. Just wash your hands first.” 

“Ok, I can do that,” he says with a grin and he walks behind you to the sink in the corner while you measure out the peanut butter into a sauce pan. 

Dieter gets to work on the peanuts with great enthusiasm until you tell him they’re broken up enough. 

“Just leave them there, you can come here and stir the peanut butter while I get the caramel ready,” you instruct him and he ambles over in just his socks. 

“What happened to your shoes? If you don’t mind me asking,” you point at his stripey, multicolored socks. 

“I’m not sure,” Dieter glances down at his feet, “I had shoes when I left home, I’m sure of it, but after that it gets a bit hazy.” 

“You’ve really been partying since Tuesday?” you ask and he nods. 

“Yeah, it was a good party so we just kinda kept going,” he grins, “there was a huge pool and we all went in. Actually, maybe that’s where I lost my shoes?” 

“Maybe, you could go back and look for them?” 

“And miss out on baking with a pretty baker girl? Never!” he chuckles and you’re not totally sure he’s being serious or not, but the grin he gives you makes you hope he is. 

“I think this is melted,” he says, draggin the spoon through the silky smooth peanut butter, showing you the bowl. 

“Yeah, that looks done. Just pass me that tray of shortbread and I’ll pour the caramel on top.” 

“Can I lick the bowl?” he asks, looking over your shoulder as you let the thick golden liquid pool on top of the shortbread. 

“I’m pretty good at scraping, there’s usually nothing left to lick,” you say, dragging the spatula around the edge. 

“Can’t you be a bit sloppy, just for me?” Dieter grins, standing entirely too close, “It smells so good, I wanna taste it.” 

This time he’s definitely flirting, the salacious smile on his face while he winks at you, makes you both roll your eyes and squash down butterflies on the inside. 

“Fine, I’ll leave some for you,” you smile, looking back at the shortbread again and scraping out caramel, leaving the last of it on the spatula. Putting the bowl to the side, you hold out the spatula for him. But instead of taking it, he grabs hold of your hand, and licks the caramel off the spatula with a long swipe of his tongue. His eyes don’t leave yours and the whole thing is so over the top you burst out laughing. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, tone it down maybe?” you snort, as he abruptly stops licking, letting go of your hand. 

“What?” he blushes, “I saw it in this movie, it looked sexy.” 

“Yeah, in a porno maybe!” you say, handing him the spatula, and only the spatula.

He takes it with a sheepish look, “Sorry, that usually works.” 

“Not in this bakery, I have to work with that spatula when you’re gone, I can’t have it being used as a porno prop, Dieter.” You grab a new spatula from the holder on the counter and start smoothing out the caramel. 

“You do smell good though,” Dieter says, still looking sheepish, “that wasn’t just a line.” 

“Thanks,” you shoot him a quick smile, working over the caramel, “you smell good too, underneath all that weed funk.” 

At this he grabs the front of his t-shirt and sniffs it, wrinkling his nose, “Yeah, it’s kinda obvious, huh.” 

“Can’t believe you partied for forty-eight hours, I’d be dead on my feet,” you say, mixing the peanut butter into the caramel layer, sprinkling in some of the crushed peanuts, “Do you want coffee or something while we wait for this to set?” 

“Fuck yes, coffee sounds amazing!” Dieter exclaims, dropping the spatula from his mouth, “And this stuff is amazing too, I’d eat a bowl of just this.” 

“You’d die of a sugar rush if you did,” you laugh, sliding the tray into the large fridge and setting a timer on your phone, “C’mon, the coffee machine is out front.” 

One of the advantages of being the sole owner of the bakery was that you got to decide what to skimp on, and what to splurge on. And the espresso machine was something you’d really splurged on. For a shop that mainly sold take out baked goods, it was way over the top, but it meant you always had great coffee on hand for your early mornings. The machine was already up and running, humming quietly as you started preparing two shots. 

“How do you take it, Dieter?” you ask and he winks at you.  “Anyway you wanna give it to me, baker girl,” he grins and when you sigh loudly, he laughs and holds up his hands in defense. “C’mon! I had to! You set it up perfectly!” 

“How do you take your coffee?” you emphasis and glare at him, but your smile is breaking through and he gives you a playful poke as he comes up and stands next to the machine. 

“Extra everything, cream, sugar, any of those coffee syrups if you have ‘em.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” you smirk, “A guy who loves Millionaire’s Shortbread, of course he wants extra everything. I bet you’re lining up outside your local Starbucks the morning they start selling Pumpkin Spice.” 

“I would never drink Starbucks!” he protests, “Fucking vile coffee and the worst of corporate America. But you can’t beat a good pumpkin spice if you’ve got quality coffee.” 

“I’ve only got great coffee here, but no syrup, you want a latte? Double shot espresso?” 

“Please,” he says, leaning against the counter next to the espresso machine as he looks over the front of your little shop, crossing his arms. You can’t help the glance up at his arms, the t-shirt hanging on for dear life as it clings to his biceps and broad shoulders. The many rings on his fingers look tiny on his large hands as he grips the outside of his arms, and you’re temporarily distracted by them, and his close proximity. 

The hiss of the machine pulls you back to reality, coffee sputtering out of the spouts into the cup. You glance back up at Dieter and find him watching you with a crooked smile, a dimple in his cheek. 

“What?” you say, looking back at the machine and begin to steam the milk. 

“You really are beautiful,” he says, almost matter of factly, “especially when you zone out.” 

“It’s early, and I’ve been up since two am, but thanks, I guess,” you reply, handing him the latte and pointing to the sugar bowl on the counter next to the till. 

“I wasn’t trying to make a move or anything,” he says, sounding slightly hurt, “I just wanted to tell you I think you’re gorgeous.” 

“No, I’m sorry,” you say, immediately regretting your tone, “I’m just not used to compliments I guess, I didn’t mean to sound so rude. I should’ve just said thanks,” you look over at him and give him a smile, “Thanks Dieter.” 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, smiling back. 

You knock out the used coffee grounds and fill it up again to make your own coffee. Dieter reaches over and grabs four sugar cubes and drops them in the latte, stirring while he watches you work. He’s watching you closely again and it makes your cheeks heat up. He’s got a strange energy of childish mayhem and intense magnetism, chaos that’s either going to make you laugh until your sides hurt or fuck you until you can’t walk straight for a week. And you’re not sure which one you want. 

Your coffee done, you add a splash of milk and lean against the counter opposite Dieter, taking a careful sip. He’s wrapped both his large hands around the thick glass and is delicately licking the foam, drawing a pattern in it with his tongue. You watch him for a few seconds until he notices you and gives you a sheepish grin. 

“What?” he asks, copying your tone from earlier. 

“You really think I’m pretty?” you ask, the question slipping out before you have a chance to stop it, immediately regretting your filterless mouth. 

But he gives you a disarming smile, “Gorgeous. Gorgeous baker girl that smells like cookies and caramel and chocolate.” 

“You’re just high,” you can’t help but scoff at him, but he just shakes his head. 

“No, not at all.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, just looks at you, the silence stretching between you until you think something will have to snap and it’s probably going to be you. 

The phone saves you, the timer going off just as you don’t think you can stand another second of his chocolate brown eyes looking at you like you’re the snack he’s been asking for. 

“Thecaramelisset,” you rush out, breaking eye contact and hurrying back into the kitchen as if another second in the fridge would ruin the whole thing. Dieter comes in behind you at a slower pace, still drinking his coffee. 

You pull out the tray and set it down on the workbench before turning on the burner under a saucepan of water, setting up a water bath. 

“I’m just gonna melt this chocolate, and then I’ll spread it on top, it’ll set pretty quickly. And then it’s done.” You work quickly, too flustered to look at him and he hoovers just to your side, watching your movements. 

The chocolate melts fast, you only need a thin layer, and then you pour it over the caramel. You scrape the bowl clean but leave a generous amount of chocolate on the spatula, giving it to Dieter. 

“Don’t burn your mouth, it’s still warm”, you say when he takes it. He doesn’t grab your hand this time, but his fingertips brushes over yours as he nods, and it sends a sharp little jolt through you. 

You turn back to the almost finished shortbread but can’t help glancing over at him. His pink tongue comes out and licks the chocolate, this time it’s not over the top, nothing provocative about it, he’s not even looking at you. But you swear you can feel every stroke of his tongue on your own skin, burning hot and wet.

You swallow and tear your eyes away, blindly reaching for the crushed peanuts, taking a handful and scattering it across the chocolate. The Millionaire’s Shortbread is done and you slide the tray back into the fridge, it only needs a few minutes. Dieter remains by the counter, finishing off the chocolate on the spatula as you start to clean up the kitchen and bring out the cookie dough that still needs to be taken care of. You see Dieters eyes widen as he sees the first scoop of dough land on the baking tray. 

“Is that chocolate chip,” he almost whispers reverently, spatula forgotten, as he slowly comes over to stare down into the bowl. 

“You want to try it? It’s double chocolate chip with browned butter.” 

He makes a gurgling noise in the back of his throat, tilting his head back before he looks at you and nods, “Please, it smells so good.” 

You grab a tasting spoon, giving him a generous scoop and watch with a smile as he puts it in his mouth. His eyes close of their own volition as he moans, far too enticingly, around the spoon. 

“Oh my god…” he sighs, slowly chewing the dough, “This is like heaven, better than sex, better than fucking coke.” 

“Knock yourself out,” you chuckle, “it’s not healthy but it’s sure as hell better for you than coke.” 

“And sex?” he asks with a wink, still rolling the dough around his mouth. 

“They’re probably on par, but this is tastier than cum.” 

Dieter nearly chokes, coughing loudly as you giggle. Between repeated attempts at clearing his throat he points his finger at you accusingly, trying to grin between his coughing.

“You’re…” he coughs again, “You’re a dirty baker girl!” he finally manages, grinning widely as you go back to scooping dough, still giggling. 

“I can’t believe I said that, but you did serve it up perfectly.” 

“I did, but I never thought your mind was that filthy, I’m appalled” he laughs, placing a hand on his chest in a mock gesture of shock. “Better than cum huh? You have a lot of experience in that department?” 

Now he’s winking again, poking to get more details out of you. So instead you take another tasting spoon, scoop up more dough and put it straight into his mouth to shut him up. It works, he grins around the spoon and smacks his lips at the taste. 

“So fucking good, definitely better than cum,” he smirks, earning an eye roll from you. “Do you wanna taste it?” 

“I’m good, I’ve already tasted the dough many times,” you reply, careful to specify that you’re talking about dough. 

“Maybe not like this though,” Dieter says, suddenly bending down and pressing his lips against yours. It almost makes you jump, his soft lips against yours, his aftershave, it all envelops you in an instance. He’s not touching you anywhere else, just your lips, and you can’t taste him, his mouth is still closed. Maybe you should push him off, the thought flits through your mind for a split second. But you want to taste him, taste the cookie dough you know is delicious, mingled with him, so you part your lips, your tongue coming out. 

Dieter lets a quiet groan slip out as he part his lips, letting you in, opening his mouth and tilting his head to come closer. You hear the spoon clatter to the floor as his hand comes up and cups your cheek, his big hand reaching behind your neck, another stifled groan from him. He tastes of sugar, coffee and chocolate, all flavors mingling into something enticing that pulls you closer.

There’s nothing delicate about this kiss now, you lick into his mouth, and he offers you all the space you want, holding you close and moaning softly as your tongues tangle.

“Touch my hair,” he mumbles, breathing into your mouth, “I want to feel your hands in my hair.” 

“They’re all sticky, Dieter,” you protest but you feel him shake his head, his lips brushing over yours. 

“I don’t care, touch me, hold me, I want to smell like you when I leave,” his tongue slips between your lips, and you run your hands through his hair. You can feel it sticking, tugging at his wild locks but he just groans, his hands holding you tighter and, encouraged, you let your own hands run across his body, eliciting another loud groan from him. 

Tension is building between the two of you, he is growing hard against your belly, unmistakably turned on and doing nothing to hide it. You can feel heat radiating from your own core, so scorching he must feel it too through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. If this doesn’t stop soon he’ll have you bent over the workbench in a minute, and Health and Safety would definitely have something to say about that. 

With a groan and tremendous effort, you put your hands on his chest and push him away. His lips chase yours for a few seconds, eyes closed, a protest coming from him, before he looks down at you with a sigh. 

“You taste even better than you smell,” he says, not letting go of your cheek, his other hand still around your waist. 

“The cookie dough goes really well with the coffee,” you reply, your mouth quirking up in a smile and he matches it, a dopey look on his face. 

“Amazing,” he breathes, "you're amazing, baker girl.” 

His adoration makes you tremble, you feel the heat in your cheeks, and he sees it, leaning into your lips. He stops and looks at you for a beat, to ask for your permission, and when you don’t pull away he presses a soft kiss to your warm mouth, so different from the hasty, heated kiss you just shared. This one lasts only for a few seconds, gentle, before he pulls back, his hand slowly trailing along your check. 

“I should probably call for my ride,” he says softly, “it’ll take a while to get here.” 

“Ok,” you nod, “the shortbread should be done too.” 

“Ok,” he replies, but he doesn’t make a move to leave and you can’t seem to take your eyes off him. 

“I really should…” he sighs, tracing his fingertips over your cheek again, “call that ride.” 

“Go, do that, I’ll cut the shortbread, we can have some while we wait for your ride.” You lightly put your hand on his warm chest and push him away, smiling, but you really want to bunch your hand in the soft t-shirt and pull him closer. 

“Ok,” he says, louder this time, as if making up his mind. He shoves his hand in his pocket, miraculously finding his phone intact as you bring the tray out of the fridge. 

The whole thing has set into layers, so you take a sharp knife and start cutting rectangles, slipping them up and onto the tray that goes in your display case, some go into a take away box, two you put on a separate plate and then look around for Dieter, spotting his broad back out by the back door. Just as you come over to him he ends his call, turning around to you with a smile. 

“My ride will be here in about twenty minutes,” he says, following you to the doorstep and sitting down. You sink down next to him, maybe a little bit closer than necessary, but he’s wide and takes up almost the whole door frame. Your cookie dough is still waiting for you, you’ll be playing catch up with your baking for the rest of the morning, but it’ll be worth it. This chaotic, disheveled man has made your morning a lot more exciting than usual and you’re a little bit sad to see him go. 

“Here, what you came for,” you say, holding out the plate, and Dieter takes one of the Millionaire’s Shortbread. 

“I can’t believe you made these just for me,” he grins and bites into it. You watch his face, this is your favorite part of baking, watching people when they taste the finished thing. And Dieter doesn’t disappoint, he groans, loudly, grabbing onto your arm and leaning his forehead against your shoulder, his whole body reacting to the flavors in his mouth as he chews. 

“I Iive here now,” he moans, “I’m giving up my career, I’m going to live in your bakery and pay you to feed me for the rest of my life.” He lifts his head up and takes another big bite of the shortbread, groaning again as he looks at you, his eyebrows pulled together, big brown eyes pleading. “How is this so good?” he moans, his tongue coming out to catch an errant peanut crumb, “you’ve got to taste this.” 

He holds up the last bite of the shortbread to you, and you open your mouth, letting him place it between your lips. You feel his fingers brush over them as he pulls back, his thumb coming up to swipe over your bottom lip. 

“It’s really good, I’m pretty happy with this,” you say, trying to not chew with your mouth open as Dieter looks at you, his eyes on your lips.

“Do you want another one?” you ask, holding up the plate and Dieter nods fervently and groans again as he takes a bite. 

“I can’t decide, this or sex, which is better,” he chuckles, and you nod. You know the cake is good, but you can’t help but wonder if sex with Dieter might not be even better. 

You sit side by side in the early morning sunshine, eating the cakes. Dieter soon finishes his second one and cracks the lid on the take away box you’ve given him, sneaking a third one with a childish grin that makes you happy to see. 

“Seriously, I live here now, I’m moving in tomorrow,” he mumbles, moaning between bites, leaning on you, his head on your shoulder. 

“You do that Dieter, I might even let you lick the bowl once in a while,” you say, patting his messy hair. 

“Lick the bowl or lick your bowl, baker girl?” he giggles and you give him a light smack, shaking your head. 

“Enough with the porn jokes,” you scold him, no menace to your words, he can hear the smile in your voice and giggles again. 

“Can I put my head in your lap?” he asks, “Nothing weird, I promise, I’m just really tired suddenly.” 

“Ok, sure, but your ride should be here soon.” 

“Yeah, I just wanna relax my eyes for a while….” Dieter yawns and slips down the stairs to sit on the last step, hooking his arm around your hips and putting his head on your lap. The warm weight of him on your legs is actually comforting, his arm a steady hold behind you. Without thinking about it you start carding your fingers through his hair, adding to the sticky mess, making it stand on end, but he doesn’t seem to mind. It takes him minutes to fall asleep, a low rumbling snore coming from him. 

You keep stroking his head for a few more minutes before you carefully lift his head up and slip out from under him, letting his arm be his pillow. You need to go back to baking, your first customers will be arriving soon and you haven’t even put the cookies in the oven, you want them fresh and warm when the early morning commuters arrive. 

Back in the kitchen you quickly scoop the rest of the dough on the trays and get them in the oven and start stocking the display case out front with what’s already done. You’re just sliding the last croissants into the tray when the opening hour strikes and you flip the sign on the front door. You’ve been listening out back for a car to pull up but you haven’t heard anything and once the morning rush starts, you’re swamped and a couple of hours pass before you even realize. When it finally calms down you wipe down the counter and clean your hands before checking out by the back door. It’s still open, but Dieter is gone, as is the take away box, not a trace of your chaotic, magnetic early morning visitor. 

Hours later, as you’re about to close up for the day, a delivery van pulls up in front of the shop. A man in a uniform jumps out and comes rushing in with a box and an extravagant bouquet of flowers with a vase.  “Delivery for you, miss,” he says, handing you a device to sign your name on, and then the flowers and the box. 

“Thanks,” you say but the man is already halfway out the door. 

The flowers fill the small shop with their scent, and you place them on the counter, next to the till, stopping to stick your nose into the white lilac and breathing deeply before getting the shop closed up.

You flip the sign and take the box into the kitchen, the back door is still open to let the warm spring air in. Sinking down on the stairs where you sat with Dieter just this morning, you open the box. It contains another box and inside that, a note. But there’s also a mouth watering, rich, smell of pastry and meat coming from the box. Intrigued, you open the lid, only to find a thermal container inside, like a small version of the ones used to keep delivery pizza warm. Inside are six fat, delicious looking sausages rolls. Your stomach gives a hungry grumble and you immediately grab one, laughing as you remember Dieter’s first request this morning; sausage rolls, like the ones he bought in England after party nights. 

The sausage roll really is as delicious as it looks and you grab a second one before you pick up the note that came with them. 

It's a double folded piece of paper, so thick it almost looks like part of a canvas. On the inside a note is scribbled in a looped, flowing handwriting. 

“Next time I’m asking you on a date, baker girl /D” 

Part Two

If you want to make Dieter's Millionaire's Shortbread, here's the recipe I used.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Fukuzawa's (Bungou Stray Dogs) daughter getting annoyed by sons of wealthy families everywhere she goes but is always saved by her ability (to control a flock of birds) or her father?

It was a fairly nice day out, now that the weather was starting to turn. Coming out of the cold gloom of winter and into the bright, but still brisk, light of spring.

“Shouldn’t we head back to the office?” Atsushi asked as he and his partner walked around the city streets. Working on a new case but their ‘investigation’ had ended some time ago. Not long after their second coffee stop.

“Ahhh….what’s the rush? Enjoy the fresh air Atsushi-kun.” Dazai remarked back. Filling his lungs as he spoke.

“I just feel bad leaving everyone else back at the office.” Leaving everyone to work that is. “Hey, is that Fukuzawa-san?”

“Well, what do you know. It is. Boss!” The older man turned to look at Dazai at his call. Greeting his subordinates as they came closer. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m waiting to have lunch with my daughter.”

Atsushi was surprised. Daughter? “Oh, [Y/N]-chan is in town?” Apparently, everyone knew the boss had a daughter but him.

Fukuzawa-san goes on to tell Atsushi that she was studying at university aboard, which was why he had never met her. There seemed to be a concerned look on his face when they talked about her being back in town, which was understandable with everything going on. Or maybe it was just his normal, serious expression.

The men continue to chat for a while before Fukuzawa-san perked up and looked over across the courtyard. As if sensing his daughter’s presence the moment she stepped into the park.

Atsushi had to admit, she was very beautiful. She didn’t look much like Fukuzawa-san, so he had to assume that she took after her mother. [Y/N] hadn’t seem to notice them yet as she walked across the park, presumably to this destination agreed upon by her & her father, when a man stepped in front of her path. He was talking to her rather animatedly and when she tried to step around him, he blocked her path again.

“Should we go and do something?” Atsushi asked. Concerned for her safety.

“No. She doesn’t need help.” Fukuzawa-san assured him.

“Yeah,” Dazai agrees. “She’s got enough back up as it is.”

Atsushi was confused by that comment. Then, suddenly, a crow came down out of nowhere and beamed the man. Clipping him in the back of the head like it was nothing. It was an odd coincidence, but then another bird came down and started pecking him. Then another. Then another.

Eventually the man had to take off running to try and escape the birds. Who chased after him regardless of his pace and [Y/N] kept walking. “Hello Daddy.”

“Hello princess.” Fukuzawa-san greeted back. Leaning in to kiss her forehead before he stood at his normal height again.

“What was with those birds?” Atsushi asked, and [Y/N] grinned at him.

“To Kill a Mockingbird.” She told him. “It’s my ability to control & communicate with birds. Not as interesting as being able to turn into a tiger, but it suits me.”

“You know about my ability?” Atsushi asked curiously.

To which [Y/N] chuckled. “Of course. Dad keeps me up to date on everything to do with the Agency. You and Dazai are often topics of conversation.”

“Glowing reviews I hope?”

“More like headaches.” She replied to Dazai’s comment.

“Are you ready to go?” Fukuzawa asked. Changing the topic.

“That depends. Are Dazai and Atsushi joining us?”

“They won’t be joining us.” Fukuzawa-san replied quickly, before the boys could invite themselves along. He didn’t get much time with his daughter and wanted to spend time with her alone. “I’ll see you two back at the Agency.”

“Roger that sir.” Dazai remarked. Giving a little salute. “Maybe [Y/N]-chan can come by after your lunch and say hi to the others. I’m sure Kunikida-kun would be devastated if he missed you.”

[Y/N] glared at Dazai behind her father’s shoulder. A warning look in her eyes as he gave her a cheeky smile. “Would you have time for that, or do you need to meet up with friends?”

“I think I can make time for that.” [Y/N] replied, back to her sweet smile in the face of her father, before they link arms and head to lunch.

Just as they were out of ear shot, another bird came down and started pecking violently at Dazai. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Ok! Ok! It was just a joke! Knock it off [Y/N]-chan! Ow!”

[rems-writing]

Variant 1126

Pairing: Loki!Wooyoung × Avenger!reader

Warning(s): Mentions of a painful past (iykyk, especially if you're a Bucky fan), Wooyoung being a cheeky little fuck lol, Fandral and Volstagg being absolute dicks (trigger warning: Volstagg mentions ripping off body parts), slight coercion, fluffy ending

Genre: Cracked out fluff with some angst

Nets: @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

Context: Loki is the Norse god of mischief. In the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe), he is dead. When the Avengers defeated him in 2012, he was last seen chained up and ready to go back to Asgard to be imprisoned. However, in Avengers: Endgame, Loki escapes with the Tessaract when the 2023 Avengers show up and fuck up shit as they try to gather the Infinity Stones from all across the realms in different time periods.

Setting: this will take place during the Loki series. Specifically, season two. If you do not know by now, Loki sacrificed himself in the end of this series and is now the god of stories. He did this so the others could live. The fic will start with Mobius hanging out with Hunter B-15, Casey, and Sylvie before all five of them look onto a random screen to see other versions of the Earth we know today. Yes Wooyoung will be a variant lol

Includes: Hongjoong as Odin, Seonghwa as Freya, Yunho as Thor, Yeosang as Dr. Darcy Lewis, San as Bucky, Mingi as Dr. Jane Foster, and Jongho as Lady Sif.

To clear up any confusion, Odin!Hongjoong and Apollo!Hongjoong are two completely different godly figures.

Thank you to @bunnliix for helping me decide the order of the fics that I write and post

I also decided to tag @ja3hwa since they're a huge Bucky enthusiast 👁👁

"You know... I'm curious about something."

Mobius said out of the blue as he looked at his three friends peacefully eating their key lime pie. Hunter B-15 looked up at him curiously.

"What is it?" B-15 asked.

"Have we ever taken in variants that were actually doing what is told in accordance with the sacred timeline? As in they were doing what they were supposed to do yet we accidentally took them in?"

Mobius's question left them puzzled and they were now thinking about it.

"I want to know as well." Sylvie asked as well. The blonde Loki variant tilted her head curiously. Casey then came up with something.

"Remember that one Loki variant we took in? The one that Renslayer misinformed us about? He had eyeliner and a lot of piercings on his ear. He also bites."

B-15 knew who Casey was talking about and she blushed out of embarrassment.

"We were all awkward that day, including Renslayer. She apologized to the variant and we all left quickly. That same day, we never did anymore missions and just waited the next day." B-15 explained. Casey & Mobius nodded grimly while Sylvie was confused.

"A Loki variant that bites?! What is this variant? A vampire?" Sylvie exclaimed and Mobius chuckled before taking out his tempad and scrolling through the past Loki variants before stopping on the one they were talking about.

"This is him. Variant 1126. He is a Loki variant but when he visits Earth often, he goes by Jung Wooyoung."

Sylvie's jaw dropped as she saw a picture of a beautiful man on the tempad screen.

"He's a Loki variant?! He certainly doesn't look like one!" She exclaimed as she kept staring at him."

"I wonder what he's doing now." Mobius said curiously. The other three grew curious as well and they all sat beside Mobius. The older man soon clicked on the file and all four of them peered into the life of Variant 1126.

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"PUT ME DOWN, YOU SMELLY FUCK! I'M NOT GOING TO ASGARD WITH YOU AND THE OTHER BIG BITCH!"

Yunho laughed heartily while San giggled lightly and tightened his hold on his sibling. One minute, you were sleeping peacefully. The next minute, your brother hoisted you up and over his shoulder before walking alongside the taller man outside of the Avengers Compound.

"YEOSANG! MINGI! DO SOMETHING!"

The two doctors tagging along simply giggled. Yeosang playfully swatted your ass while Mingi shrugged jokingly as if to say 'Sorry. My hands are tied.' Finally, you gave up and laid limp in San's hold.

"HEIMDALL, WE'RE READY! BEAM US UP!"

A bright light descended from the sky and crashed down onto the five of you before beaming you upwards to Yunho's realm.

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You thought you were going to hurl.

After you guys successfully made it to Asgard, you immediately ran over to the beginning of the rainbow bridge and dry heaved. Luckily, nothing came out. However, you were still nauseous. San patted your back and helped you stand up. Once you recovered, the five of you began walking to the kingdom of Asgard, taking in the sights before you.

You soon arrived at the entrance and two soldiers greeted you guys before allowing entry inside. You, Yeosang, San, and Mingi marveled at the sights of the golden interior before seeing two golden thrones and two men sitting atop said thrones.

"Welcome back home, my dearest Thor." The king greeted the god of thunder.

"Father~ I told you to call me Yunho!" Yunho whined softly and the king chuckled before standing up and walking towards him. He brought him into a hug. The queen followed suit.

"You know your father. The ever forgetful man he is." The second man chuckled. "Are these your friends?" He asked as he gestured to the rest of you.

"Ahh yeah! This is Dr. Kang Yeosang, San Barnes, and Y/N Barnes! But uh..." Yunho grabbed Mingi's hand and his voice softened. There was a hint of love and affection.

"This is Dr. Song Mingi. He's my boyfriend."

The second man clapped in delight while the first man's pretty smile never left his face.

"Greetings, Dr. Song. My name is Odin but you can call me Hongjoong."

"My name is Freya but you can call me Seonghwa. It is lovely to finally meet you. We have heard so much about you from our eldest son. He wouldn't stop gushing about you!"

"Mother!" Yunho exclaimed out of embarrassment and the tips of his ears turned red while Seonghwa simply giggled. While Hongjoong was talking Mingi's ears off, Seonghwa approached the four of you.

"It's nice to meet you, Dr. Kang."

"Same here, Hwa!"

You were about to swat Yeosang's head for being informal in front of the queen when you heard him laugh.

"Oh my. You are quite the excitable one."

Yeosang toothily grinned and Seonghwa returned it before turning to you. Both you and San were nervous as all hell. You two were sure that Hongjoong and Seonghwa would treat you differently due to them hearing about your past sins. When Seonghwa brought you two into a hug, all of those worries washed away and all that was left was shock and confusion.

"Welcome to Asgard, Namhae Wolves."

To hear him call you guys your official hero names rather than the Winter Soldiers almost made you cry. San let out a shaky breath of relief as Seonghwa pulled away. He held San's face in his hands and a choked sob escaped San's lips.

"I thought we would be treated differently. Forgive us for the hesitancy, your majesty." San spoke quietly. You nodded along in agreement and Seonghwa shushed you both.

"You are freed from the hands of HYDRA. You are both forgiven."

San smiled weakly while you bowed before Seonghwa. The queen turned to you and tilted his head curiously. His eyes were assessing you and you were growing anxious under his gaze. A teasing smirk appeared on the pretty man's lips.

"Y/N Barnes right?"

You nodded nervously and a slight chuckle escaped his lips.

"Oh my... so you're the one that my youngest son sees in his dreams. Looks like his prophetic visions have come to life." That smirk never left his lips and you grew confused by his words.

"Uh... what do you mean by that?"

"Oh don't fret, my dear. I just...remembered something. That's all." He patted your head lightly before bringing his hand down to your face. His fingers caressed your cheek and you found yourself leaning into his touch.

"Come now. We all have much to discuss."

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It had only been a few hours since you landed in Asgard and so far, you loved it. The food was great, the conversation was lively, and the environment was relaxing. After lunch ended, all of you went your separate ways. Yunho and Mingi went with Hongjoong and Seonghwa to walk around in the gardens while Yeosang dragged San along to go check out the labs.

Leaving you by yourself to wander the grand hallways alone.

As you walked around, you were making a mental note of the structures and the archways perched above various giant doors that lead into different rooms. You then noticed a lone figure leaning against the balcony, reading a book. You were about to approach him when another figure blocked your path.

"Hey. May you please move out of the way?" You asked politely. The new person, with an arrogant smile, stood before you defiantly.

"Greetings! I am Fandral! Welcome to Asgard!"

Oh.

He was one of those people. Oh boy.

"Shall I show you around this grand ole palace or... shall I introduce you to a special room just beyond those doors? Where you and I can be alone."

As Fandral wiggled his eyebrows, his friends behind him cheered loudly and egged him on. Except for a young man who seemed tired of the bullshit his friend was doing.

"Since when...?"

Fandral was confused by your statement yet he kept the smile on his face.

"Whatever do you mean?!"

"Since when did I fucking ask for this shit right here?"

Your snappish tone made his friends quiet down, the young man snap his head up to pay attention, and Fandral's smile waver.

"Surely, you must jest with your words. I mean... look at me."

"Yeah i'm looking at you. All I see is an egotistic douchebag who thinks he can sweep anyone off their feet with those horrid pick up lines alone. Now run along. My patience is running thin and you do not want to see me when I'm impatient."

"But -"

"Scram!"

Your raised voice made everyone flinch and they ran off. Fandral trailed behind them like a dog with its tail hanging between its hind legs. Only the young man remained and his gummy smile was present.

Cute.

"No one has ever stood up to and rejected Fandral like that before. You certainly have guts."

"Let's just say I've had my own fair share of Fandrals before back on Earth, or Midgard as you call it."

"Fair enough."

The man with the gummy smile stuck out his hand.

"I'm Lord Sif, but you may call me Jongho."

"Nice to meet you, Jongho. I'm Y/N."

As the two of you walked down the hallways to get to know one another, you were unaware of the lone figure looking straight at you as you passed by. A mischievious smirk played on his lips as he closed his book shut.

"Well well... you're certainly a fiery one."

As he walked towards the library, he thought about you some more.

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It had been now a few weeks since your stay here in Asgard.

Yeosang and Mingi were making good progress on whatever project they were working on with Hongjoong and Yunho by their side. Meanwhile, you were bored so you pulled San into a practice room and asked to spar with him.

Ever the competitor, San obliged.

As you two were stretching, you heard light footsteps approach you. You lifted your head to see who approached you.

And you almost toppled over onto San.

A body clad in black and green armor with gold accents, a sharp jawline, piercing eyes that reminded you of a fox, eyeliner underneath said eyes, and many piercings adorning both ears.

'His lips look soft'

'DON'T BE WEIRD'

'But they are'

'DON'T BE WEIRD'

"If you want to know how soft they are, why don't you come here and test them out yourself?"

His mischievous voice snapped you out of the daze you were in.

"Did I say that out loud?! Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed and hid yourself behind San's wide frame, hoping your brother would protect you. The young man chuckled smoothly and stepped closer.

"No you didn't. I can read minds y'know?"

Ok that was fine.

WAIT A DAMN MINUTE -

"Wait. Mind reading, black and green armor, a mischievous voice, and..."

That's when you noticed it.

The golden horned helmet he was holding in one hand along with a book in the other hand.

"You're Loki... aren't you?"

Your shy voice made his heart melt yet he hid it behind a suave demeanor.

"Yes. It is I. But since everyone here is using their Midgardian names, then I supposed you can call me Wooyoung."

The tales of his silver tongue were no joke.

As you approached him, you studied his facial features more. Wooyoung noticed this and decided to take advantage of your curious nature by leaning in. You squeaked in surprise and Wooyoung laughed airily at this. He retracted himself and walked over to the bleachers before finding a suitable spot and sitting down.

"Oh don't mind me. I am just observing. Continue with what you are doing."

As if to prove that he's telling the truth, he opened the book he was carrying and began reading. You huffed lightly and continued stretching before turning to face San.

"Want to start?"

San, who noticed the entire thing unfold, nodded. He had an unreadable expression on his face as he narrowed his feline eyes suspiciously at Wooyoung momentarily before getting into a fighting stance.

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

"FUCK!"

You were slammed down into the mat while San hovered over you.

"You're getting weak, little sis." He teased you while he helped you up. You were breathing heavily and hunched over. Wooyoung looked up discreetly from his book and watched the beads of sweat trail down your face.

How could you look so ethereal even whilst sparring?

He felt himself blush and looked back down at his book so San wouldn't catch him staring.

"Best two out of three!"

"You already said that -"

"I don't care! Best two out of three!"

San lightly chuckled before getting into a fighting stance once more. You tackled him and tried to get him in a headlock yet he beat you to it.

"Come on now. You should know by now that this tactic is getting old."

"I'm aware. Which is why I'm doing this!"

You jumped up and slipped out of his hold before grabbing his wrist and flipping him onto his front whilst you landed after practically doing a somersault mid-air. San groaned in pain and you pinned his arm behind his back.

"Ha! I win."

San laughed weakly as you let him go and helped him up.

"Finally! That was fun. I'll be right back. I'm going to grab us some water."

San turned and jogged off somewhere to fetch water for the both of you. You walked towards the bleachers and sat next to Wooyoung. The young god conjured a towel and handed it to you. You thanked him as you wiped your face to get rid of any sweat buildup.

"You sure fight hard. Do you and San always do this?" Wooyoung asked curiously.

"Yeah we do. Even way before we were captured by HYDRA, we would always spar in our old gym and see who the best was." You told him and looked down at the metal arm that was beside you. You moved it, flexed it, and wiggled your fingers around before sighing deeply.

"With these metal appendages, we're stronger than ever. However, we both try not to use them as much as possible since... uh..."

"I heard about what you both had to go through. And I'm so sorry this happened to you. This must not have been easy for you."

All mischief was lost and all you heard in Wooyoung's voice was softness and care. As he scooted closer to you, he looked down at your metal arm.

"May I...?"

You were unsure of what he would do yet you trusted him somehow so you nodded and Wooyoung lifted your arm before observing closely.

The intense gaze in those fox eyes made you anxious. He trailed his slender fingers up and down the metallic plating before skimming downwards to your hand. He then intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand up to his lips.

Wooyoung's plush lips made contact with the cold metal and stayed there for a minute before bringing it up to his face. He flinched slightly as your metallic palm made contact with the warmth radiating off his face. He leaned into your touch and his stare softened. A small smile was on his lips and he shifted closer to you.

"I'm sorry. I don't even know your name. My apologies." He said sheepishly and you laughed quietly before reassuring him that it was fine.

"My name's Y/N. Y/N Barnes."

"Y/N..."

The way your name rolled off his tongue made your insides feel tingly. Before he could speak any further, you heard a cacophony of voices booming down the hallway. You both turned to see Fandral, Jongho, and a bunch of Fandral's friends storming towards you. One of them threw Wooyoung off the bleachers so Fandral can take his place. Jongho helped him up while you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

"Listen here, you lowly mortal. I am Fandral the Dashing! I will not stop until you are mine! Do you think your malicious words can bring me down?!"

"Well you seemed butthurt so I assumed you were -"

"SILENCE, MORTAL!"

You rolled your eyes but shut up nonetheless as Fandral talked nonsense.

"However, I am willing to forgive you. You just need to do one thing."

"What?" You growled.

"Give me a kiss."

"No."

"KISS HIM, YOU PATHETIC MORTAL!"

The man that shoved Wooyoung off grabbed the back of your head and pushed you towards Fandral's puckered lips. You squirmed in his hold and tried to resist him without using your metal arm.

You were annoyed but you vowed to never touch anyone with your metal arm again.

"HEY!!!!"

A loud voice was heard and all of you turned to see an angry San sprinting towards you at lightning speed. The man holding your head punched San square in the face and laughed as he went down.

"PUNY MORTAL! NOW WHERE WERE WE, FANDRAL?!"

Wooyoung sprinted into action and tackled the man holding your head, leaving you to be free. Jongho helped Wooyoung pin down the man while you tried to get up so you could help San. However, you were stopped by Fandral.

"Come on now. It's just one measly kiss. What could go wrong?"

"Everything could go wrong if you don't unhand them right now."

You were relieved to hear Yunho's voice echoing in the hallways. Fandral froze and turned to see the god of thunder with the angriest of faces on.

"Thor! What a surprise. Could you please tell them to just -"

"I will not tell them anything. You on the other hand..."

Yunho grabbed Fandral by the collar and lifted him from the bleachers easily. Fandral's feet dangled as he tried to escape his grasp.

"Wait! Thor! You misunderstand -"

"Shut up, dude!" Jongho hissed to the man that was pinned down.

"Sif, you are on that pa-"

"Choose your words carefully, Volstagg."

"Like I will listen to you, Loki! Do you not know of both their past misdeeds as Winter Soldiers?! They have killed countless people mercilessly! And with those metal arms! If I was there, I would've ripped their arms off and beat them with it!"

Everyone went quiet as Volstagg, the pinned man, spoke of yours and San's former HYDRA induced sins in such an arrogant and proud tone. Yunho grew angrier but Wooyoung saw red. He was about to lash out when a booming authoritative voice.

"YOU SHALL NOT SPEAK ILL OF OUR GUESTS! FANDRAL AND VOLSTAGG, I SENTENCE YOU TO THE BRIG FOR FOUR WEEKS!"

Fandral nor Volstagg spoke a word as Hongjoong walked into the room.

"O-Odin... sire -"

"That's your majesty to you! Guards, take them down to the prison cells!"

Two guards dragged Volstagg while Fandral was released from Yunho's grasp and taken as well. You were glad that was over.

You could cry freely.

You fell to your knees and sobbed into your hands, which startled everyone.

"Father, should I wake San -"

"No, my dear. Look."

After Seonghwa finished speaking, Yunho looked to see his little brother comforting you to the best of his ability. Wooyoung held you in his arms and shushed you gently and lovingly.

"You are free of them. They will not track you down. It's ok. It's ok."

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It had been a month since the incident. San was grateful for Wooyoung's presence. At first, he was weary of the young god. However, when he heard from Yunho that Wooyoung successfully calmed you down, he approved of him.

You were leaning against Wooyoung as you two watched the sunset from the balcony of Wooyoung's room. Your head was on his shoulder while his arm was wrapped around your waist.

"So what happened during that meet up with your friends?"

You knew that Wooyoung went away for a bit before coming back in time for dinner. But you were curious as to what for.

"One of my good friends is gone."

Your eyes widened. A god died?!

"No no, my dear. You misunderstand me. He left behind his life in the Duat, the Egyptian underworld, and joined Midgard as a completely different man. With a clear mind and an open clean heart. He is currently with his beloved right now."

After the clarification he gave based off reading your mind, you understood.

"May I see what he looks like?"

"Of course."

He pulled out a group photo and showed it to you. You recognized Yunho and Wooyoung but the others were new to you. He pointed out each one.

"The one that looks like my father? That's Apollo. The one that looks like Dr. Kang? That's Ptah. The one that looks like your brother? That's Hercules. The one that looks like Sif? That's Sekhmet."

He pointed to the last god.

"The one that looks like my mother? That's the god that joined Midgard. His name was Anubis."

After looking at the eerily similar figures of the five gods, you looked back up at him. Wooyoung's face was filled with nostalgia and a hint of sadness. You gave him a side hug and Wooyoung gladly returned it.

"Have you guys thought about finding him?"

"We have, but we wouldn't know where to look. We don't even know if he is a man, woman, non-binary person, a pet, and so on. All we know is that... he is happy. And if he is happy, then who are we to rain on his parade? While we would love to know who he is in his new body and reunite with him, it just wouldn't feel the same."

You nodded in acknowledgement to his explanation and kissed his cheek.

"I love you, Wooyoung."

"And I love you, Y/N."

He kissed the back of your metal hand before holding it gently as you two continued watching the sunset.

[hottempura]

A Relationship Lost to Memories

Kyojuro Rengoku x reader- Part 2

By dusk, you had woken up again. This time Rengoku was there to greet you. Everything was still painful, but that tea must’ve had heavy painkillers in it since this time involved less screaming. His eyes stared at you in the low light and you sighed leaning back.

“So this is real? All of this?” You glanced down at his hand in yours curiously. You’ve waited a long time to feel this.

“It is. We’ve told the other hashira and they’ll be by tomorrow.” You smiled and turned his hand over to trace your fingers along the palm. His hand was rough from training. Warm like the rest of his body and more gentle than you’ve seen it before.

“I’m excited to see Tomioka. I haven’t seen him since… well I guess I wouldn’t remember the last time.” Your smiled dropped and you pulled your hand away. I don’t belong here. Looking back up at Rengoku, you could see the worry and fatigue in his face. “You should get some rest.” You placed your hand on his cheek. It was nice to freely touch him like this. He stood up and almost shifted towards the bed before stopping himself.

“I’ll be in the next room. You can go back to sleep.” He leaned forward and pushed your hair back to kiss your forehead. You froze and blushed at the contact. He leaned back and smiled awkwardly with a small blush. “I’m sorry, I forgot.” That was extremely embarrassing, but it felt nice.

“It’s alright. Goodnight, Rengoku.” He held your hand for one moment longer before heading to the door. He opened it and looked back.

“Goodnight, my flame.” He gave you a cheeky smile in response to the wide blush that spread across your face. Then, he walked out and closed the door behind him. How bold! I guess he’s always been upfront about his feelings though. You shifted a little, wincing from pain then turned over to go to sleep. Slowly a dream… no a memory floated into focus.

I was on my way to a meeting with the others when I heard my name being called out. I turned around and saw Rengoku running up behind me. Raising my hands I waved and shouted back.

“Rengoku-san, be careful!” He zig zagged around a couple kakushi before he skidded to a halt in front of me. His smile was wide and fiery as always making the small flame in my own heart flicker.

“Glad I caught up!” He was smiling and shouting, but to be honest I had gotten used to it.

“We would’ve seen each other at the meeting.” Smiling back at him, I went to turn toward the garden before he caught my wrist.

“Before the meeting I have something to tell you!” He seemed to have wanted to say this in private and by now the kakushi had started to clear out. They wouldn’t have listened in on the conversation always.

“Of course, Rengoku-san.” He took my hands in his own making a light blush bloom behind my ears. He breathed in and out like he was going to battle before shouting out.

“I LOVE YOU! MARRY ME AND BEAR MY CHILDREN!” My face turned bright red at the confession and I sputtered.

“R-ren-“ before being cut off.

“Kyojuro.” He lightly corrected with a smile as wide as ever. He didn’t even looked fazed by what he just said. I blushed harder and turned away from his waiting eyes.

“K-kyojuro-san, you can’t just say things like that!” My body started quivering and red blossomed all over.

“Of course I can! I’ll say it again!” Before he could yell it out again a hand clamped over his mouth.

“PLEASE!” I was even more embarrassed having to step chest to chest with Kyojuro to shut him up.

“Is that a yes?!” His voice still boomed even with my hand there. Eyes widening and legs shaking, I turned and made a run for the garden doors. Kyojuro quickly followed behind, “That doesn’t answer the question!” His voice was still light with happiness and he still had a smile on his face chasing after me. The hashira on the other side scrambled to their positions and away from the gate as it banged open. All holding back laughs at their poor friend who was still red in the face.

“H-hi, everyone! I hope I’m not late.” Kyojuro stood behind still smiling, but his eyes were blazing with determination. I dashed off towards Tomioka while saying his name lightly in a whine. He turned just as I flew past him and onto the pond. The water freezing under each step. Kocho burst out laughing remembering when I used to do the same thing to Tomioka when I was his full time tsuguko.

“You look like a scared deer out there on the ice,” Kocho snickered and walked over to the waters edge with Kyojuro and Tomioka.

“Ren- Kyojuro is scaring me! Shinobu, knock some sense into him!”

“Hm, you don’t look that scared to me! You look embarrassed.” Tengen now joined in on the fun to tease. “Just answer yes or no?!” Kocho immediately smacked Tengen on the back of his head with a glare.

“She wasn’t supposed to know we heard, idiot.” My body froze and then I wailed out pitifully before kneeling and burying my head in my haori.

“Just come back here, my flame! The meeting is going to start soon.” My face redden again at Kyojuro’s sweet nickname. The memory fizzled out as quick as it came.

Waking up the next morning was bitter sweet. That dream felt real. Deep down you knew it was a memory. You started to peal back the haori stuck to your skin with dried blood. As you got it off your shoulders, the door swung open to reveal Rengoku. Immediately you swung your hands up to cover your chest.

“Rengoku! Knock before you barge into someone’s room!” He turned around so fast you could swear there were flames. His hands flew up to his face.

“N-nothing I haven’t seen before!” Even if that was true, this time was different. You grabbed the pillow and chucked it at his back.

“Don’t say things like that! Go get Kan- Shinobu!” He stepped forward and snapped the door shut behind him all while keeping his back turned to you. You sighed and plopped back down. Now missing the pillow, you groaned at the feeling of pain radiating from your stomach. You traced a hand over the bandages and pulled back once you felt a bump. Shinobu had put the stitches back in while you were sleeping. You’ll have to ask later why they weren’t fully closed when you woke up the first time. To your left was your sheath, but your sword was missing. Before you could question it, Shinobu opened the door. She held another medicine cup and following your eye line she answered the silent question.

“Rengoku took your sword to clean last night. If we left all that blood on there, it would damage the blade.” You nodded and laid your head back down. They probably took it away so you wouldn’t harm yourself again. She picked up the pillow and started walking towards the bed. “We’ll have to clean and replace the bandages soon, but you need this.” She held out the cup and helped you get into a sitting position. You downed the contents quickly again and groaned.

“There’s nothing you can put in that to make it taste better?” She laughed and pulled the blankets off your legs. Those were covered in dry blood again too.

“I think I like torturing you all a bit.” Her eyes glinted with mischief. You put down the cup and swung your legs over the side of the bed.

“Sounds about right.” You smiled back at her and she helped you move to the chair by the window. It was no further than two steps from the bed, but each was agonizing. “When does this kick in?!” You groaned and sat down. Beads of sweat were already rolling down your back.

“Give it a little time and then I’ll help you into the bath. The other hashira are coming by today.” You sat up straighter at that. You probably looked like shit right now.

“Who’s coming?” Shinobu frowned at that but it was gone before you could really register it. She started removing the bedsheets.

“Uzui, Obanai, Shinazugawa, Himejima, Tokito, Tomioka, and Kanroji.”

“That last one is new.” Shinobu hummed in acknowledgement. She finished stripping the bed and dropped the cloths by the door.

“You two got along well before this.” She left for a couple of minutes before coming back. “Let’s go get that bath.” You smiled sadly at her in apology, then grabbed her hand. She had to support most your weight. Yesterday, you were running on adrenaline, but now every slight movement was painful. The painkillers were kicking in slowly. The baths were on the first floor, so you went down the stairs slower than a turtle. Halfway through you leaned against the wall.

“Can’t you just drag me down?” Shinobu laughed and grabbed your arm again. So much for catching my breath.

“If we stop now, you won’t want to keep going.”

“I already don’t want to keep going.” Finally after ages, you were at the bottom of the stairs. The baths were no more than 15 hobbles away. You tried taking more of your weight with each step until you both heard something snap. You cried out and leaned back into Shinobu shoving her against the wall.

“Popped a stitch. We’ll worry about that after the bath.” She wedged herself in between you and the wall to your side again. Basically dragging you the rest of the way. Once inside she sat you down on a stool and pulled off your pants. She reached around to start on the bandages. “I can’t let you fully get in the water, so we’ll use wet rags.”

“Really?” You groaned and grabbed the rag at the edge of the tub. She dropped the bandages into the bin and pushed you closer to the bath. You placed your head over the side and she began wetting your hair.

“I feel like I’m bathing Kanao again after a tough mission.” She had a light smile and her eyes flashed with anger. So Kanao is dead. Shinobu is the hashira in her place. You didn’t say anything. It wasn’t your place to ask questions about this just because you couldn’t remember. Kanao was a good friend and you felt sadness at her death. You wet the rag and began dragging it over your skin.

“You usually don’t bathe your patients then?” She gave you a chuckle.

“Only the special ones. Everyone else gets water buckets thrown at them.” You laughed and continued washing your arms.

“Must be difficult being a hashira while doing all this.”

“I have help and a tsuguko. A lot of people rely on the butterfly estate.” She gently ran the soap through your hair and undid the knots. “Sometimes this responsibility is a lot to bear.”

“It seems like you’re doing a fine job. If I really came here three years ago, this wound probably would’ve killed me and not because I was less experienced. That medicine you made… it was different that what Kanao used.” She finished up with your hair and started on your back.

“My sister would’ve done a better job than me. She’d probably save more people too.” You turned around and grabbed her hands in yours.

“That might be true. Your sister was brilliant and she would’ve had more experience than you do now, but her real asset was you. Trust me, Shinobu, I remember her as if I spoke to her yesterday.” She tilted her head down so hair covered her eyes and her hands began to shake.

“thank you” She whispered out and you both wordlessly finished the bath. Once done, she helped you into a new demon slayer uniform. She fixed the stitches and wrapped your abdomen again. You left the front of the uniform halfway unbuttoned. Shouldering your weight again you both started off. Halfway down the hall that kid from the other day came walking down the stairs.

“Ms. Rengoku!” You blushed and stepped forwards wincing, but trying to be intimidating.

“Don’t call me that!” It was so embarrassing. Shinobu laughed awkwardly and started forwards again.

“Ah sorry, but I never did catch your name. Rengoku-sama and you let me call you that on the train.” So this kid was there. You ruffled his hair and you stumbled past. “Do you need help?!”

“Yeah, thanks…”

“Tanjiro Kamado” He took your other side and let you push against his shoulder.

“Sorry I didn’t remember it, I’ll be sure to know for next time.” You figured discussing things with the hashira before letting everyone know about your memory loss would be a good idea. Though yesterdays events would be hard to explain if you did try to hide it.

“That’s okay! Inosuke can’t get my name right and we’ve known each other longer than one mission.” You laughed which turned into panting from exhaustion. Tanjiro didn’t comment which made you grateful. “I was scared back at the train.”

“What do you mean?”

“With the upper moon, we thought you were going to die. We thought you did die. After all that, he still got away.” Your breath hitched. An upper moon? After stepping foot at the top, Shinobu spoke up.

“I can take her the rest of the way. Thank you, Tanjiro.”

“Alright, take care!” He waved and you waved back as much as you could. You waited until you couldn’t hear him anymore then turned to Shinobu.

“Shinobu, I fought an upper moon?” She started walking again.

“You and Rengoku battled upper moon three, but from his report it was mostly him who fought until the end. When the train derailed, you cushioned two demon slayers’ fall. One of their swords stabbed you, so it was hard for you to fight. Ironically, the wound you have now is part of that stab wound.”

“Part? This hole is too big to be an accidental stabbing.” She nodded and opened the door to your room.

“That’s cause the upper moon three, Akaza, shoved his hand through your abdomen.” You felt the air get sucked from your lungs. Through? His hand went through me?

“Shinobu, that’s not possible. I should be dead!” She dragged you over the chair in the corner and sat you down.

“You should be, but he missed your ribcage by a fraction and you used concentration breathing to slow the blood flow. Then you created an ice blockage.”

“I can’t do any of that! I-I don’t know how to do concentration breathing like that!” You remember your first day when you looked down at you abdomen and saw that your breathing had worked to slow the blood. “Wait, I…” Your vision got blurry again and a pounding headache came with it.

“Calm down, look at me and breath through this. It’s a panic attack.” You gripped Shinobu’s arms and looked right at her. The breath was stuck it your lungs. It was like there was a hand on your throat stopping it from coming out, but not letting it out would cause your lungs to burst. The door behind Shinobu opened again and Rengoku came in.

“I heard something, what’s wrong?!”

“A panic attack. Breathe. You can do it.” Rengoku grabbed your head and tilted it up to look him in the eyes. Then you smelled him, like smoke and cider and a little wisteria. You breathed out. Gasping in breaths to try get back to normal. You leaned into him and slowly let go of Shinobu.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” You reached up and gripped Rengoku’s shirt to keep him there as sobs wracked your body. His hand went up to tangle in your wet hair and the other slid down your back.

“It’s alright. Shh, it’s ok now.” It was surprising to hear Rengoku whisper, but at the same time it was familiar just like the tone he used last night. Soft and quiet. Reserved for behind closed doors and only for you. Shinobu looked up at you two.

“I’ll go downstairs and wait for the others.”

“I’ll stay here.” The deep rumble from his chest as he spoke felt nice. It felt familiar. Your eyes slipped closed and you drifted back into a memory.

“Kyojuro, what’s flame breathing like?” We were laying in the grass outside of the Rengoku estate. My head on his chest and hands splayed out over it. One of his hands was on the back of my head and the other was drawing patterns across my arm.

“It’s a lot of determination and passion. Feels like it too. When I see the flame coming out of my sword, it only shines as bright as the one inside of me. Like we’re one.” I giggled and rubbed my cheek against his chest. “What?”

“You only speak so eloquently about flame breathing.”

“That’s not true! I speak about you with as much passion.” I shifted my head to look up at him and he put one arm behind his head to look down at me too.

“I don’t mean passion, Kyojuro. You speak about everything with passion. But, when you speak about flame breathing there’s an underlying sadness there. In a good way, like you’re talking about an old friend.” His eyes widened and I leaned up on my elbows to put his hair behind his ear. “It’s like how you talk about your mother.”

“You are a lot like her. She always thought I was a gift, but really it was my privilege to have her as a mother.” I hummed in thought.

“Did she have it? The flame breathing spark?” He smiled wider now showing his teeth and looked up at the sky.

“She had a bigger flame than I. I could feel it. She would have made a excellent flame user.” I leaned closer. He looked best like this. Happy, really happy.

“Do I have it?”

“Even as a frost hashira? I believe you do.” He wrapped an arm around my back and bought us closer. Til we were nose to nose and he whispered, “A flame that fuels mine.”

I leaned forward to kiss him and the colors of his hooded eyes swirled together until I was staring into the darkness again.

“Is everything alright?” Rengoku was now kneeling in front of you.

“Yeah, I just needed to catch my breath.” He nodded and leaned forward to touch your hair again. It was a little drier now due to the breeze.

“Do you want me to do your hair?” Blushing, you nodded. “I’ll be right back.” He patted your hands and got up to walk out of the room. You could hear him next door riffling through something. He cursed lightly before shutting the drawer he was in. When he came back in, he was holding a brush and a couple gold pins. “I tried to find the one you like the most, but I think I left if at home.” Home. Was that the Rengoku estate?

“That’s okay. Those ones match better with my uniform.” He smiled and walked around you to start combing through your hair.

“That’s what you always say. Plus-“

“This way I don’t lose anything special.” You finished the sentence for him and looked down at your lap. It felt confusing to know bits and pieces of your life. Shinobu and you had good banter. Something that felt familiar even though you didn’t use to spend a lot of time with her. Those golden pins. As soon as he walked in, you knew what to say. Even now with him combing through your hair, this too felt familiar, but he’s never done it before.

“I usually only do this when we are going to sleep. Senjuro always does the fancy stuff!” He was concentrating on your hair. Almost like he was training. You laughed and pulled his hand down over your shoulder.

“Just do something you can do well. I’m sure no one will mind.”

“Right, but I want you to be comfortable!” His voice sounded happy. Like that memory… “I got it.” He started on your hair again. You could feel the concentration rolling off of him. It took everything in your power not to take a peak back at him.

“Does Senjuro know I’m ok?” First pin in, he started with the second.

“Yes. He doesn’t know about your memory.” He placed in the second pin and walked around to your front. “Beautiful.” You swatted his arm.

“It’s bad taste to compliment your own work, you know?”

“I wasn’t.” His smiled widened as you turned away with a blush to look out the window. Seven people were walking into the estate and Shinobu was greeting them. You also saw Tanjiro run over with a boy in a boar mask. It was hard to hear them, but the two looked excited and the seven looked solemn.

“Looks like the hashira are here.” Rengoku looked past you out at them.

“I’ll kick them out if they start bothering you.” He looked so determined you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What if you do too?”

“Then I’ll kick myself out.” You hummed happily in response and took one of his hands in yours. The hashira were now making their way up the stairs. Shinobu came first and poked her head in. She gave you a knowing look before opening the door fully. As each walked in, they introduced themselves. Tomioka came in last and you used Rengoku’s help to stand up.

“Giyuu, it’s so good to see you again.” He walked forward already knowing you wanted a hug. His facial expression didn’t change though. You felt Rengoku stiffen besides you. After all, you hadn’t hugged him yet nor have you called him by his name.

“We saw each other last week.”

“Shut up.” You buried your head in his shoulder and his arms settled around your waist to support you. In your mind, it’s been months since you’ve seen him. Everyone’s eyebrows raised at the sign of affection. Giyuu was always reserved and even when it came to you he still held back when they were around. Truth be told, Shinobu knew Giyuu loved you, but after Sabito he shut you out. Your relationship became a good friendship after that. You both pulled back.

“Tomioka, I didn’t know you had it in you to be affectionate.” The man known as Tengen stepped forwards. You’d seen him in that dream. He was Rengoku’s close friend.

“Ah, he’s a big softy on the inside.” Tomioka blushed and backed away towards the others.

“I’m pretty sure you’re still the only one who’s seen that until now.” Tengen walked past you and sat on the windowsill. You looked over at the others still trying to place names. You focused on the pink haired girl.

“You must be Kanroji!” Her eyes started to water. “I mean… uh.”

“Mitsuri. You can call me Mitsuri!” She still looked saddened by the fact you didn’t remember her name. Iguro put a hand on her shoulder as she walked past him to sit on the bed.

“I’m sorry, Mitsuri. I know this must be hard for you all.” Looking over at each of them, you suddenly noticed someone never came in. In the garden, there that brat was. You turned to the window and stuck your head out. “Muichiro, how dare you not come greet me!” He waved a hand dismissively in response and kept looking up at the sky. “That damn kid, no manners.” When you turned back, everyone was looking at you with wide eyes. “What?”

“No one told you Tokito’s name.” The scar covered fellow, Shinazugawa, finally spoke up. You glanced to the side closing your eyes and raised a hand to your head. Another headache.

“Shinobu did yesterday.” They all glanced at her and she shook her head. They all silently agreed, acting like normal was bringing back your memories.

“Well might I say, you look fantastic for someone who got punched through.” Tengen reached out and slung an arm around your shoulder. His other arm made a mock fist to mimic what had happened. He lightly tugged you back until you were leaning next to him.

“I sure look better than you.” Teasing Tengen felt natural, and for some reason you knew to aim for his looks. He threw his head back and laughed.

“You wish!” Before you could reply, Mitsuri grabbed your hands. She got over here so quick.

“Have you eaten yet?! We could go out for dinner.” Actually you were starving. You looked over at Shinobu.

“You can only eat light soups.” You groaned.

“I hate having a hole in my body.” Iguro laughed slightly at that making you look over at him and smile.

“Light soups it is! But I think we should eat here.” Seems in Mitsuri’s excitement, she forgot you couldn’t walk very far.

“Sounds great, do you know how to cook?” Mitsuri beamed and nodded.

“I also bake a little, but that’s harder. You usually bake.” You smiled at her and ran a hand over her braid.

“I thought I taught you how to make mochi?” You winced again and touched your head. Rengoku came back over to your side. Mitsuri smiled and squeezed your hands.

“You did, but you make it better. Me, Shinobu, and Iguro will get started on dinner.” They said they’re goodbyes and walked out to go down to the kitchen. Shinazugawa still stood by the door with his arms crossed. He was uncomfortable dealing with injured people. Instead he walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I hope you feel better so we can spar soon.” In response, you smiled at him and patted his hand. He walked out too. Himejima who had been crying and saying prayers came over next. To be honest, his presence was frightening. You could feel his strength rolling off him in waves.

“Come by my estate some time. The water will help heal you. I’ll pray for you as you stay here.” Perhaps he could feel that you were uneasy, even though he couldn’t see you. He left soon after that with tears still streaming down him face.

“Don’t worry about him! He’s a weird one.” Tengen suddenly grasped your shoulders from behind making you jump. All the hashira are weird in their own way.

“You’re just as weird!” Rengoku answered for you and slapped Tengen’s hands away. “Don’t touch my wife. You have three!” Wife?! You looked up at Rengoku confused and kind of panicked. When did I become a wife?

“Doesn’t mean I can’t have a fourth!” Rengoku and Tengen continued their mock argument. You shuffled past them towards Giyuu. He stuck out an elbow for you to take and you looked back over at the two idiots.

“Why don’t you guys settle this over a match like always?” Tomioka suggested dryly. The two stopped, looked over at you, then quickly looked back at each other.

“A match?! What a great idea!”

“Lovely, I’ve been dying for an actual fight.” They both spoke over each other. You and Giyuu glanced at each other from the corners of your eyes.

“Could be fun. You know who I’m betting on.” The other two started barreling out the door. Rengoku knew you were safe with Giyuu, though it somehow made him uncomfortable to leave you there. He also knew smothering you wouldn’t be good, but glancing back he saw both of you walk out of the room following slowly. It lessened the feeling just knowing you were both headed the same direction.

“Tengen may actually win this one.” Giyuu observed as he helped you down the stairs. “You were both just on a mission.” A sharp breath punctuated each step you took. Still, you were determined to prove Giyuu wrong by watching Rengoku win.

“If I win, then I get free dinner when I can eat something good.” He nodded. “And what would you like?”

“You have to stay in bed all day tomorrow.” Now at the bottom of the stairs, you groaned at his response and went back to holding his elbow.

“That’s a boring thing to pick.”

“It’s what I’d like.” It was taking forever to reach the engawa and you could already hear them fighting. Coming around the corner, you saw Rengoku throw his hands up in surrender.

“You win!” He didn’t even have a scratch on him! You looked back over to Giyuu who just looked away.

“You conspired against me!” Rengoku smiled in your direction. Tengen didn’t even have his blade drawn yet.

“No, I am clearly outmatched!” Suddenly dizzy again, you gripped Giyuu and he lowered you to the ground. You could hear shouting and you could feel Giyuu’s hands under your arms. It was too late.

“Kyojuro, give up you’re outmatched.” Tengen smiled as he held a blade to Kyojuro’s neck.

“Never!” The two boys got back to fighting. I was sitting off to the sidelines with Shinazugawa. We’d just finished our fight and these two wanted to go at it again.

“Wanna bet again?” Shinazugawa nudged my shoulder and I turned towards him.

“So I can win? Hell yeah, you know who I’m betting for. Go Kyojuro! Win and we’ll get a feast!” I shouted over the clashing of swords and Kyojuro looked back for a second flashing a smile. The next second they were back to fighting.

“Tengen is gonna win one of these days while you’re here. It happens.” I smiled over at them then turned to Shinazugawa.

“As long as I’m near, I don’t think Kyojuro can lose.” Shinazugawa groaned at the sappy nature and my laugh slowly died down again. Another memory.

You snapped your eyes open meeting Rengoku’s.

“You had me worried!” Should I tell him about the memories? Maybe I should tell Shinobu first.

“Sorry, it must be because I haven’t eaten in a while.” You noticed that you were sitting on the ground. Rengoku holding you up and Giyuu off to your side with a hand on your back. Tengen was behind Rengoku looking at you with worry. No one pressed into the issue further.

“I’ll go check when dinner will be done.” Giyuu got up and walked back inside.

“Are you two going to actually fight now? I’d love to see.” Tengen grasped the back of Rengoku’s shirt and dragged him back over.

“Hell yeah!” They got into their positions again. That was the second time I’d ever seen Rengoku lose. You smiled sadly as the two exchanged punches. Hand-to-hand was kind of boring when the two were both so good with their weapons. They were fighting for several minutes before you really started watching. Tengen threw out a punch and Rengoku dodged it and kicked him in the stomach. Either barely flinched. Tengen knelt down and tried to sweep his legs, which obviously Rengoku jumped over. Tengen rewarded that behavior by bringing his leg swiftly up. Rengoku took the impact with his shin and both men grunted as bone hit bone. He landed on the other leg then jumped to the side as Tengen got up. Rengoku threw a kick with his injured leg, which was caught. He bent his knee of the leg Tengen was holding the next moment and punched Tengen in the chest with the forward momentum. Tengen still held his leg and Rengoku started to fall backwards.

“Sorry, old friend!” Rengoku placed both hands behind him and brought up his remaining leg right into Tengen’s crotch.

“OOF! AH THAT’S OUTTA BOUNDS!” Tengen dropped everything and knelt on the ground holding his crotch and groaning.

“It’s a fight! Everything is fair and I had to win. My lady is watching!”

“I understand.” It came out hoarse and a little broken. Yikes, that must’ve hurt. Rengoku started patting him on the back as Mitsuri started shouting about dinner being done.

“You ok?” You giggled as Tengen gave him a thumbs up.

“I’ll uh… I’ll be there in a second. You two go on.” He still seemed to be in a lot of pain, but Rengoku just patted his back and ran over. He helped you up and started walking you towards the dining hall.

“He’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time.” At that you started laughing and he did too.

“You’d think he’d pick up on it after a while.” His smile widened.

“This actually isn’t the first time I’ve used that move too.” You laughed again and put more weight into his shoulder.

“You two went slower this fight.”

“So you noticed?”

“I’ve seen you fight before and usually it’s hard to keep up.”

“I am injured. Usually I would still go all out, but…”

“You have to take care of me.” He nodded. For a second, you felt heartache that he had to do that. As he looked forwards, you couldn’t sense any from him. He was happy to do this small thing. Even though if meant skipping the fun parts of his daily training, he couldn’t risk not being at full capacity for you.

The soup was bland. Shinobu smiled sadly at you as everyone else got to eat mouthwatering dishes. Rengoku offered to eat the bland soup too, but you shut that down quick. Vicariously living through every shout of delicious was all you had now.

“I’m sorry, Shinobu wouldn’t let me put anything good in.” Mitsuri had finished four plates of delicious food as you finished up one bowl.

“If you’d seen my stomach, you’d understand. I should go back upstairs now. I’m sure you all have a lot to discuss.” Rengoku got up to help you, but you put a hand on his shoulder. He had to finish eating anyways, so you waved Shinobu over since she was done. Everyone said their goodbyes. As predicted, when you were out of the room the real conversation began.

“She seems to be doing well.” Mitsuri broke the silence first.

“She can’t walk without help.” Iguro responded and looked at the table. “She won’t be able to fight.”

“She’s a hashira. She’ll heal quick! Walking right now is a huge deal.” Tengen defended and Rengoku froze at everyone’s words.

“I can’t send her to fight again. I know I can’t stop her, but I don’t want to send her to fight.” Rengoku then shoved some rice into his mouth to distract himself. “Delicious!”

Iguro rolled his eyes. “We all have to fight. If she’s ready by then, she’ll fight too. Even if we all don’t want her to.” Shinazugawa nodded.

“Hell, we’ll have a hard time holding her back if she can’t.”

“Then we’ll just have to make sure she’s ready. Her memories seem to be coming back.” Mitsuri was hopeful you’d be back on your feet.

“It seems acting like ourselves helps.” Tokito avoided you for most of the day, but he watched from afar.

“She recalled things today. We all saw it. Some big pieces and some small.” Shinobu was now leaning again the door. “I gave her more tea, so she should be asleep soon. Sleeping has also been helping her.”

“Of course, it has.” Giyuu mumbled. Shinobu spoke to them like they all didn’t know sleeping was part of the healing process.

“I mean to say that she recovers larger pieces of her memory.”

“How do you know that?” Himejima spoke up as he was curious how sleep was connecting her to her past.

“Last night, I checked on her twice. The first time she was having a normal nightmare. Not uncommon in recovering patient, so I comforted her. I brought her Rengoku’s haori. When I came back she was mumbling something, remember that time Rengoku asked her to marry him?” They all nodded and Rengoku turned away with a blush. “She was mumbling the same things she said back then. Most of the major flashbacks she has… involve Rengoku.” Mitsuri looked confused.

“Does that mean, if we aren’t in a memory with Rengoku, she won’t remember us?”

“No, that just means it might take longer. She’s already started recalling the small things like the mochi, Tokito’s name, and Tengen’s horrible personality.”

“Hey!”

“The quickest way to help her is to help her remember Rengoku.” Obviously everyone was on board with this plan.

Mission: make the frost hashira remember everyone.

First step: remember Rengoku.

“Let’s do this!” Mitsuri shouted and put her hand towards the center of the group. Rengoku immediately followed suit. Slowly but surely they all put a hand in. “One, two, three let’s go!” Only her and Rengoku shouted, but the two of them were loud enough.

[bruhstation]

You seem like a Train Professional so where would one begin in order to get into the funny little talking train show?

these are all my own opinions so take it like a grain of salt -- the common go-to would be the thomas and friends tv show. start off from season 1 then work all your way up to the top (not actually really. you can skip some later seasons like s17 if you want to). the model seasons are considered to be some of the greatest because 1) they set the foundation of the cast (besides the railway series books) 2) they contain some of the most iconic scenes from the show like gordon's ronan kirk crash, the flying kipper accident, james and the shoelaces, etc and 3) they're the originals so you know what their personalities and relationships to their peers were like and how their characterization was supposed to be like before the cgi era flip flopped them up

also check out the railway series books in the meantime! the funny talking train show was based on the book series created by reverend awdry for his sick son! the first book feature edward, henry, and gordon. thomas appears in the second book. fast forward decades later and britt alcroft created a tv show called thomas the tank engine. there are many eras of the show, from models, to model/cgi hybrid, to computer animations where the show gets passed around like a volleyball from studio to studio

here's a google spreadsheet that contains all the thomas and friends episodes in various languages. feel free to watch the show for yourself and decide which seasons you like the most

some more of my thoughts under the cut

I recommend you steer clear of the big world big adventures seasons and specials because it's probably the most controversial seasons in the fandom. replacing two of the core cast members, "pandering" to certain audiences, putting in lackluster representation for the sake of selling toys, SAID representation turns out to be racist depictions, all of it reflected the current state of mattel when handling thomas and friends. they also didn't contribute anything to the overall show, like by the time the bwba seasons were out, people dgaf and just focused on the older seasons. you can ignore bwba and you won't miss anything important about ttte. not that I'm stopping you! you have your own free will.

the thing about ttte that made many adults get into it (if not for train autism) is how ttte was a show grounded in reality. idk if that makes sense but basically despite being a show about mean talking trains for little kids, reverend awdry and britt alcroft handled the characters with care. they gave the engines so much charm by making them bicker with each other like the cranky old engines they are BUT they're not reduced to singular personality traits too. thomas is cheeky and kind of a meanie but he wants to prove himself useful. edward is old and acts as a mentor to thomas but he also wants to show that he still got it despite his old age. gordon went from being a pompous grand young express engine to a humble old engine being a mentor to the newer ones and so on! they also put a lot of historical references related to the engines' basis too and tie their backstories in (henry's a stolen faulty design hence his cynical, miserable personality at the early seasons of the show). there's even irl engines mentioned in both the books and show (flying scotsman and city of truro) and it's just neat!!! because awdry cares about history so much!!!! that he even made an "encyclopedia" about sodor, its railways, and its history

the books and the earlier seasons of ttte didn't shy away from themes of death and usefulness and all that (the story of godred, henry being a faulty engine and getting cask of amontillado'd for being uncooperative, all of gordon's siblings scrapped sans flying scotsman) because the thing about them being engines are important to them. it's their reison d'etre. they get scrapped if they cannot be of use anymore, because that's how things have always been. they get into accidents often because their ego got to them. dieselization is starting on the island of sodor and the diesels are asserting their dominance over the oldschool steam engines. the engines just exist there. they just happen to have faces and talk. idk. I think it's interesting how they view life a bit differently than humans. thank you for listening to my ramble

[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember Day 13: Mononucleosis

Fandom: ATEEZ

Sickie: Wooyoung, Yeosang (mono)

Caregiver(s): Hongjoong, Seonghwa

Word Count: 2,199

Notes: I am, admittedly, not the most thrilled with how this turned out, but c'est la vie. I also finished this one pretty last minute cause I had several little bits of dialogue that needed to be strung together. I also know so little about mono, and everything is from Google.

When Wooyoung stumbled out of his room, feeling like death warmed over and craving a little attention from his members, he did not expect to find the room dark except for the light of the muted TV and the couch already occupied. Yeosang was curled up, looking just as bad as Wooyoung felt: skin dully pale, shadows under his eyes, body laying as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Their eyes locked. 

“Mind if I join?”

“Welcome to the party.” Yeosang curled his knees even closer to his chest to make room for Wooyoung on the other end of the couch.

“Your throat hurt like hell too?” Wooyoung asked as he collapsed on the other end of the couch. He stuck his feet under Yeosang’s blanket, and the other didn’t fight him. 

Yeosang nodded. “Tired as hell?”

“You know it.” 

“Great. Glad we can die of the plague together.”

“No one else I’d rather go down with.” 

Yeosang hummed. “I’m actually kinda worried, Woo. I felt totally fine last night, and now even the thought of moving is painful.”

“Funny you say that, cause I was starting to think the same thing. The ‘I was all good last night’ bit. I actually wasn’t all that worried. Until you just said that.” Yeosang’s foot reached out and met Wooyoung’s. “Now I’m less nervous.” Yeosang chuckled at that, but the sound quickly became a groan. 

They laid there, staring blankly at the TV, for an indefinite amount of time. Wooyoung had forgotten his phone in his room, and there was no way he was moving back there on his own. It wasn’t like Yeosang could help him. They were stranded on the couch until someone else found them. 

And that person ended up being San. “Good morning!” he chirped happily, passing the couch on his way to the kitchen. “You two have a sleep over without inviting the rest of us?”

“Something like that.” 

San stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to the couch comically slow. Wooyoung’s response may’ve been cheeky, but his voice was… off. He walked back around the couch, taking a good look at both Yeosang and Wooyoung. Lips pouted in confusion, San flipped on the lamp on the end table. His eyes went wide. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with you?”

“Is it that bad?” Yeosang asked. 

“You look like actual zombies,” San replied. 

“Maybe that’s what we’ve got, Sangie: Zombie flu.” Wooyoung tapped Yeosang’s foot this time, earning a single chuckle from the other man. San’s eyes flew wide, and he immediately brought his shirt up to cover his mouth and nose as he backed away. “San, it was a joke!”

“I know, but I’m guest MC-ing Music Core this week, and I really can’t afford to get the flu right now, zombie or otherwise…” Wooyoung couldn’t decide if he felt bad at San’s panic, or if he wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he was being. “I’m getting Hongjoong and Seonghwa…”  

“Noooo! Don’t wake them!” Yeosang whined, burying his face deeper in the throw pillow. San made a mental note to lysol off the whole couch. Maybe burn it. 

“I’m waking them.” He set off before either of them could complain. 

“Has he always been such a germaphobe?” Wooyoung asked. 

Yeosang shrugged. “I mean, I get it. I wouldn’t want to have zombie flu on camera either.”

“Fair point.”

“Now what’s going on here?” Yunho appeared seemingly out of nowhere, standing in front of the couch, hands placed on his hips as if inspecting some sort of silly shenanigan. This was not a silly shenanigan, thank you very much. 

“We are becoming zombies,” Yeosang announced simply. 

“Okay. How did that happen?” Yunho played right along, noting the glaze in the younger man’s eyes, and hoping to either a.) keep him awake long enough for the MATZ line to check his out, and/or b.) get him to say something funny. 

“Your guess is as good as mine. We have not been in contact with any other zombies or hazardous materials.” 

“Yeah, we both just woke up like this.” Wooyoung attempted to pose without sitting up at all, the movement awkward and looking more like contortion than modeling. Yunho tried his best not to laugh, and was thankfully saved by the entrance of Hongjoong and Seonghwa, San trailing behind them. 

“Now what is this about a zombie flu?” Seonghwa asked. Both and Hongjoong had their arms full of supplies from the medicine cabinet, and after depositing them on the coffee table, he immediately moved to lay a hand on Wooyoung and Yeosang’s foreheads simultaneously. 

“Hyung, I think we’re dying,” Wooyoung announced before Hongjoong slipped the thermometer in his mouth. 

“How so?” the captain asked. “Give me symptoms.”

“Extremely tired. Very sore throat. Entire body aches. Felt fine last night,” Yeosang rattled off. 

“See? Dying!” Wooyoung exclaimed around the thermometer. Hongjoong flicked his forehead. 

“Relax. You probably just caught Yunho-hyung’s cold,” Jongho rolled his eyes. Neither Wooyoung nor Yeosang had noticed him enter the room, but he was currently sitting in the recliner, supervising as Hongjoong and Seonghwa desperately tried to play doctor to the group’s most impatient patient. And Yeosang too. 

“Not nice. Mingi had it first!” Yunho poked the maknae’s shoulder. 

“And I didn’t have a fever,” Mingi (when did he get here?!) pointed out. “And I don’t think Yunho did either.” 

The dancer shook his head. “Nope. And neither of us were this fatigued.”

“Wouldn’t classify it as a ‘very sore throat,’” Mingi added, starting to count on his fingers. 

“Okay, okay we get it,” Wooyoung whined around the thermometer again, rolling his eyes as he slumped back against the couch. He frowned, whole face creasing as Seonghwa pointed the thermometer gun at Yeosang’s forehead. He thankfully waited until Hongjoong pulled the device from his mouth before asking, “Why did you only use the forehead reader on Sangie?”

“So you’d be quiet for a little bit,” Hongjoong answered plainly, assessing the numbers on the screen. Seonghwa showed him Yeosang’s reading as well. 

“Rude.”

“Also, kinda gross to put the same thermometer that was just in your mouth in his,” Mingi commented. 

“Can we put a pause on the peanut gallery?” Wooyoung asked, pointing puppy dog eyes at Seonghwa. The eldest ran his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair, similar to a puppy, but the feeling soothed him somewhat.

“Well, you’re both burning up, so it’s probably not the cold the rest of you had,” Hongjoong commented, starting at the thermometers as if doing so would give him answers. “But I’m stumped. Fever, fatigue, sore throat, but nothing else…”

“Should we get them looked at by a doctor?” San asked from the back of the room. To Wooyoung, it almost looked like he was hiding behind Mingi. As if that would save him from their germs. 

“Most definitely.” Hongjoong was tapping away at his phone now, likely alerting their managers to the situation. 

“Do we have to go right now?” Yeosang’s voice bordered on a whine. Hongjoong couldn’t help but pout with him, ruffling the dancer’s hair affectionately. 

“Well, it’s only 6:30 in the morning. The doctor isn’t in yet, buddy. So you two can rest here for a bit longer. Hopefully they can fit you in ASAP.”

“Cuddle with me, Sangie!” Wooyoung lunged forward towards his friend, resting on his abdomen. Yeosang squirmed away with an annoyed whine, t-shirt riding up over his hips from Wooyoung’s grabbing hands. He pulled it roughly back in place, as if seriously upset that Wooyoung would even consider touching him right now, which did confuse Wooyoung as touching feet earlier had not been a problem…

“Wait! Sangie, hold still.” Both members froze as Seonghwa gently lifted the hem of Yeosang’s t-shirt. Yunho gasped as Seonghwa revealed Yeosang’s abdomen and chest, covered with an ocean of red spots. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” San continued repeating the words like a protection spell, covering his mouth with his hands and beginning irritatedly pacing far away from the couch. Seonghwa nodded to Yunho, who immediately suggested he and San go take a walk outside. 

“Wait, what the fuck?” Yeosang gasped. “What is this? I didn’t even feel anything!” His breathing started to pick up. “Hyung, what the fuck’s happening to me?!” Wooyoung simply stared at his friend’s abdomen, frozen in panic. 

“Oh Sangie, shhhh,” Seonghwa soothed, opening his arms and nearly falling back into the coffee table from the force of Yeosang clinging to him. “You’re okay. You’re o-kay. You said you didn’t even feel the rash, right?” 

“No!” Yeosang shook his head against Seonghwa’s shoulder. 

“Well, you’re not gonna like it, but I think this means you have mono, bud.” The eldest glanced over to Wooyoung. “You too, love.” 

Wooyoung blinked, shaking his head as if Seonghwa had just told him there was a dragon living in their basement. “What?” he exclaimed. “There is NO WAY we have mono! Isn’t that the kissing one?”

“Yeah, Hwa, are you sure?” Hongjoong asked, kneeling down on the other side of Yeosang. Seunghwa nodded sadly. “My brother had it once when we were in high school. It’s not just kissing, you can get it from other things too,” he explained, petting Yeosang’s hair gently. The dancer had stopped hyperventilating, but his grip on Seonghwa had only gotten tighter. “Sharing drinks; that’s how my brother’s got it. Sharing chapstick. Maybe even toothbrushes…”

“We don’t share toothbrushes!” Wooyoung insisted. 

“Maybe even toothbrushes touching,” Seonghwa finished gently. “Maybe. It’s possible that you may’ve mixed water bottles with another group at some point, maybe that’s how…” He was cut off by Yeosang lurching away from him, glaring daggers at Wooyoung.

“YOU kissed me!” he exclaimed, immediately wincing at the pain in his throat. “You kissed me when I asked you not to, and here we are!”

Wooyoung’s head cocked to the side. “When?!”

“After our all kill! During the encore stage? You got too excited and grabbed my face and I tried to squirm so you hit my mouth instead of my cheek.”

“That was a month ago!”

“Yeah, about that, mono does have a four to six week incubation period.” Hongjoong held up his phone, where he’d been fact checking mono symptoms. 

Wooyoung clapped his hands to this mouth as his face drained of color. “Oh my god…” Yeosang continued to glare at him. 

“Well, good thing we’ve been super strict about not sharing water bottles,” Hongjoong muttered to Seonghwa, who nodded emphatically. 

“Who would’ve thought there would be an upside to half the group sharing a cold.”

“And that it would be that the rest of us wouldn’t get mono.”

“I can’t believe you gave me mono,” Yeosang huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and physically turning his body as far away from Wooyoung as he could.

Wooyoung’s jaw dropped open. “Um, who said I gave it to you? Maybe YOU had it first and gave it to ME!”

“No. You kissed me. That means it’s your fault.” Now both Yeosang and Wooyoung were pouting on their separate side of the couch. Hongjoong and Seonghwa made the mistake of making eye contact and nearly burst out laughing. 

They were saved by the reappearance of Yunho and San, the dancer’s arm wrapped protectively around the vocalist’s shoulders. 

“Good news, Sannie. They aren’t contagious unless you kiss them!” Mingi cheered. 

“Well why would I ever want to do that?” San replied, pulling a face. Wooyoung threw a pillow at him, causing San to squawk in fear and dodge behind Yunho to not get hit with anything potential contaminated, despite Mingi’s earlier explanation. 

“Okay kids, settle down,” Hongjoong said, holding up his hands for a ceasefire. “I need everyone who’s healthy to go start getting ready for schedules. Yeosang and Wooyoung, I need you two to make up and take care of each other until manager-nim can come get you.”

“Kiss and make up, more like it,” Mingi snorted to himself as he disappeared down the hallway. Wooyoung wound his arm up to throw another pillow at him, but Seonghwa held him back. 

“Rest, Woo,” the eldest said gently. “I know it’s frustrating to be sick, and scary cause we don’t actually know what this is. But all you two can do is rest and let your bodies heal.”

“Okay,” Wooyoung relented. Hongjoong shook his head. Why didn’t Wooyoung ever listen to him like that? “Sangie, I’m sorry I may have gotten you sick.”

“Yeosang?” Hongjoong prompted. 

Yeosang sighed, releasing his arms from their cross. “I’m sorry I may have gotten you sick, and I snapped at you about it.”

“There we go! I think that’s earned you both popsicles later.”

Wooyoung’s eyes lit up immediately, but surprisingly so did Yeosang’s. The dancer never gave into bribery by snack, so he must’ve really wanted that popsicle to be so visibly excited. 

And sure enough, one doctor’s visit later, Yeosang and Wooyoung were curled up together in Wooyoung’s bed, officially diagnosed with mono and contentedly enjoying the promised popsicles, content with the assurance that there were plenty more in the freezer for them over the next few weeks.

[jewbeloved]

Hi! I love Undertale,and,so far,reading your Sans S/O+Papyrus S/O headcanons have been great! Could you maybe do Team Stan+Wendy (All seperate!) with a Frisk S/O? S/O is great at befriending others (human or not!),is someewhat of a people pleaser,is a giant prankster and overall quite flirty.S/O also has the same powers as Frisk,too. (The power of resetting and loading,hehe 👀).Thanks,if you do this,I appreciate your stuff 🫶!

Team Stan + Wendy with a frisk! s/o❤️

Note: STAP GETTING ME BACK IN MY UNDERTALE HYPER FIXATION! REEEEEEEEEEEEE >:C

Warnings: Having no determination is a warning lol.

Gender: Neutral

🩵 Stan "Parsh"💧

"Damn bro you're so quiet-ow! why are you poking me with that stick (Name)?! ow! Stop!".

Stop poking Stan with that stick right this instant you little gremlin >:( you'd just reset so Stan would completely forget what even happened that day of you poking him.

Nah but seriously, your quiet nature is creeping him out a little and he can't even tell if you're sleeping or not because your eyes are always closed....

WAIT- HOW CAN YOU EVEN SEE IF YOUR EYES ARE CLOSED?! WHAT ARE YOU??

Stan would be hiding in his room for days until you force him to come out and explain everything to him.

He honestly has no clue how he always keeps falling for the pranks you always play on him.

You'd calm him down and maybe even flirt with him a little to see his face get all red.🩵🩵🩵����

💚 Kyle Flovski 🪵

You just love messing with him don't ya? He just had to clear out his hat because you put a bunch of Ike's toys in it. He's your number one victim.

You befriended some of the six graders to help prank Kyle as well, but you kicked their asses if they thought of a prank that went too far.

Kyle is just wondering how he even ended up with you. But I guess this is his life now- and you just broke into his room and now caressing his cheek and flirting with him.

He honestly wouldn't know about your powers because he won't remember it by the time you reset or smt so you'll just have to explain it to him without resetting that specific moment of you explaining it to him.

Like Stan he cannot tell if you're sleeping or not with your eyes always being closed. Seriously how can you even sleep with your eyes closed????

You just shrugged and gave him a cheeky smirk to which he responded with a sign.💚💚💚💚💚

❤️ Eric "Tit"man 🍄

You're 100% a weirdo but you make a great partner in crime, you'll help him with his crazy plans like always right? Oh too bad, once you're his s/o you'll be dragged into his shenanigans at some point.

Doesn't mind the weird fact about you having your eyes closed at all times because he can use it as an excuse to get you both out of trouble by saying you were sleeping the whole time.

Definitely will insult you if you flirt with him while he has a hint of blush on his face.

Since you have that ability to befriend anyone and anything that saves him the trouble of having to do it himself when it comes to him planning something big. He's lazy what did you expect?

Of course you don't want your big bone boyfriend to get too rash and get himself hurt so you'll reset to undo the danger Cartman was about to get himself into. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

🧡 Menny Korrmick 🍔

I can see you both being the prankster duo together. You two would have fun pranking random people and getting away with it.

You would be using your reset powers to prevent Kenny from dying and he wonders what even happened before that last minute.

He is practically immortal but he can't deny that getting hurt and dying is still painful. He'll thank you for saving his life when you tell him what you did.

Flirting? 24/7.

You both would be flirting with each other back and forth making the other red as a tomato. It's an endless battle between you two when you start flirting.

There's never a solid winner between you two because your flirty remarks are just too good. 😳

Kenny probably at some point always thinks you're sleepwalking because your eyes are always closed until you point it out to him that you're awake.🧡🧡🧡🧡

🩷 Bendy Tellaburga 🎂

She thought you were blind at first when she saw you because of your eyes always being closed. Literally nobody can tell if you're awake or sleeping 😞

Okay she's sorry but can you blame her though? Right...she made an assumption...her bad...You ignored her for a day until she apologized.

Anyways! She doesn't mind the flirting remarks you make towards her but she might blush a little and have no clue what to say to your flirty comment.

She probably won't flirt back with you but she might send you a poem that will make your heart skip a beat.

Your power is extraordinary...but don't you think it might be a little dangerous? You're good at using it responsibly? Oh thank god.

She doesn't care for you pulling pranks but she might get a little annoyed if you prank her. She'll join you in pranking Cartman or someone that pissed her off.🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[mazeinthemiroh]

hi dear how are u? can u please give us a soft y/n momento?? ateez ot8 reaction after seeing u looking too pretty in front of their show…like crushing a atiny

ateez crushing on an atiny

genre: romance, fluff

warnings: none

pls like and reblog if you enjoy! feel free to request anything <3

hongjoong

hongjoong had seen you at a couple of concerts and fansign events. you catch his eye because of your bright and unique sense of style. your outfit stood out from the crowd and your confident beauty was very striking to him. he would be a fool not to be attracted to you. he would give you a cute little have and a cheeky wink whilst performing on stage.

seonghwa

it was so easy to know seonghwa had a crush on you. you were at a fansign and before you even made it to him, he noticed you. 'how could someone be this beautiful?' he thought to himself as he waited for you to come to him. and when you did, his eyes seemed to grow wide with appeal, captivated by your presence as you spoke to him.

yunho

yunho actually met you at a coffee shop. you noticed him straight away. despite being a fan, you didn't overwhelm him and wanted to have a conversation with him. yunho fell for your respect and the way you took into account his privacy and feelings. it stood out to him as being the most wholesome interaction with any atiny, which is why you stood out in his kind the most.

yeosang

yeosang can't help how he feels. when he sees your pretty face, he melts. he's a simple guy, let's just say that. he can't help but see your face stand out in the crowd when they're performing. he wants to wave at you but he's afraid that singling you out with give the other fans the wrong idea. in his head, however, he didn't really mind that. and seeing you so happy to be at one of their concerts made his heart warm towards you even more.

san

ateez concerts were different these days. sometimes the members would choose atinys from the crowd to come up on the stage and perform with them; a new feature they wanted to add in. san knew who he was picking from the get-go. he made a bee-line towards you and invited you up on stage. he was enthralled by your confidence and beauty, and danced with you with a big smile on his face.

mingi

this guy is a blushy mess and it's hilarious. you had come to a lot of fansigns and mingi, every single freaking time, would gawk at you. and it was so obvious like you know how obvious he is about these things and so do the other members. every time you get around to talking to him he's smiling so much that his cheeks hurt and he's flirting without even realising it. gosh he can't control himself.

wooyoung

wooyoung is quite similar to mingi. he's very expressive and tends to wear his feelings on his face. so if he likes you, you'll sure as hell know about it. in fact, he's so flirty that he's been called out on it by his members. he said he would stop but when he sees you at their different events, he's waving and winking and blowing kisses in your direction. he doesn't try very hard to conceal his little crush on you.

jongho

jongho never thought he would fall for one of his fans. and it's not in his nature to fall so quickly. so when he happens to fall for you, he surprises himself with his own feelings. but he can't help it. you supporting them at concerts is enough, but what touched his heart the most was the heartfelt letters you had written to all the members. that's something that really impacted him and he thought a lot about.