#and she add something about how much of a fucked up kid she was

[gatsby-system-folks]

I have a lot of thoughts about ai and most of them are sad

[killerpancakeburger]

Thinking about a Reader who ends up having Scary Dog Privileges with Ghost without meaning to. It just happened.

Then they have to deal with the fact that this comes with duties too.

Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, mostly fluff, a bit suggestive, smug!Ghost, smooth!Ghost. 800 words.

When Ghost is reluctant to getting sutured in Medical after accidentally opening his stitches, grumbling he can do it himself, who does the nurse call for? Yeah, you.

She could stand her ground, after all she's used to dealing with big, whiny men, but it's much more fun to knock on your door and smile at your bewildered gaze and gaping mouth when she explains the situation in two sentences.

"Ghost's being difficult, mind taking over?" "I'm sorry, what the hell does this have to do with me?" "C'm'on, everyone on base knows he's got a soft spot for you. Don't you want to make my job easier?"

You roll your eyes and slam your hands on your desk as you get up. Groaning as you walk past her— "I'm doing this for you, nothing else, got it?"

Mumbling to yourself "you've got to be kidding me" as you barge into the sick bay. Ghost is coolly seated at the end of a bed, large as life, casual clothes as black as his mask and— oh. You weren't told the wound was on his thigh— you weren't warned that he didn’t have pants on. You can’t help it, your eyes go down, down, your lingering gaze and your flustered silence forming a confession louder than words.

A noise — a scoff or a grunt, you’re not sure — emanates from him, breaks your trance, makes you look up. The amusement in his gaze tells you he noticed your oggling— of course he did. Nothing gets past the Ghost, and you've been remarkably unsubtle. Despite the mask, you swear you can make out the smug smirk on his lips. His cockiness reignites your irritation. Annoyance making you bolder than you really are, you charge at him, crossing the distance between you two in a stride, stopping close— too close. He doesn't back off.

"What's wrong with you?" you snarl. "Nothin'," he retorts, imperturbable.

It's actually the first time you’re overlooking him. You may be enjoying it a bit too much. Nevermind the fact that you've had to wedge yourself between his parted legs to get there.

You frown, unconvinced by his answer.

“Did Soap contaminate you?”

Bargaining to be cleared out earlier was the Scotsman's trademark.

“Johnny throws a fit cos he hates feeling useless. That's not what I'm doing.”

A smirk stretches your lips.

“Oh, no? I'm sure your reasons are much more noble.”

“Doesn't matter. Got what I wanted anyway.”

He's way too self-satisfied for a man in his underwear.

You throw an unequivocal look in the direction of his injury.

“What you wanted? A still open wound?”

“You.”

He replied without missing a beat, as confident as usual. It is both alluring and aggravating.

“And your idea of wooing me is making me upset?”

You don't add “because if it is, that's really fucking stupid” out loud, but you’re sure he got the message through your tone.

“Nah. But you're more honest when you’re angry. Gutsier.”

You only realize he slipped his index and middle fingers in your trouser loops when he sharply tugs at them. Off balance, you steady yourself by catching his shoulders.

Taking advantage of the strip of bare skin between your shirt and bottoms, the pads of his thumbs idly stroke your hip bones. The contact sends electricity through you, shivers of pleasure running down your sides.

“Ghost,” you start, severe, trying not to let the effect his touch has on you show in your voice.

“Simon,” he counters, surly. “Told ya it's Simon when we're alone, didn't I?”

He did, but you didn’t think he was serious. If that's what it takes to get him to listen… you’ll play by his rules.

“Simon. What's the rest of your brilliant plan? I'm here, but I can’t stitch you up.”

“How ‘bout a deal. I'll stop resisting… for a price.”

You raise an amused eyebrow.

“What kind of price?”

“A kiss.”

You snort. You didn’t believe him capable of something so… puerile.

“With the mask on?”

He doesn't move a muscle to get rid of it.

“Take it off.”

You usually wouldn’t obey what sounds like an order so easily, but it's the first time you get to touch the skull. Slipping two fingers between skin and cloth, you slowly roll up the mask all the way under his nose.

You gently trace the scars surrounding his lips. Then, the second you feel him relax, grip on your hips slackening and intensity of his gaze waning, you grab the bottom of his mask and drag it back down vigorously, making the holes for the eyes land way too low for him to see anything.

“If you thought you'd get a reward for acting out, you've got another think coming.”

[ragingbookdragon]

It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?

He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.

“No.”

“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”

“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”

“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”

Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”

“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.

It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”

Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”

Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.

“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”

He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.

“Quit that.”

“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”

“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”

“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”

“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”

“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”

“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”

“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”

Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”

Price simply watches him.

“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”

It's another long moment before Price speaks.

“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”

“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”

Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.

“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”

As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”

He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”

[redflagshipwriter]

Snitches the cat and his favorite bat

I wrote up dpxdc fics based off of prompts I happened to see in the last day to add to the reading pile for anyone who didn't prep for the archive down time today.

EDIT

The idea for Danny as a cat came from @shycorvid, thank you so much for correcting me and letting me play in your sandbox!

Snitches the cat comes from @garbagewith-a-cherryontop (I think??? I couldn't find a definite first post!) but the fantastic linked post is the one with how I think Snitches the cat looks here.

Word count is 1053.

Tumblr reference

masterpost for my AO3 downtime fics

“Ugh- that's not- did we just summon a demon cat?”

“It's so messed up looking. Ew.”

Danny blinked and swayed on his feet. He'd had a tail a minute ago, speeding across the GZ to check in on Walker. There had been an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. And now he was on his feet. All four of them.

Wait, what?

“You fucked this up.”

His ears twitched at the sound of a slap. Danny swiveled towards the sound and then got distracted by the feeling of his ears swiveling back. Whaaaaat?

He looked down at his precious little feeties. They were adorable paws.

“Oh, you motherfuckers,” he said. It came out as a conversational yowl.

The humans looked at him from about ten feet away and five feet up. “Annoying…”

He was pretty sure they were high schoolers. There were five of them, two girls and three boys. They were all bigger than him. High schoolers were usually bigger than he was, but this was just ridiculous.

“Count yourself lucky, dimwits,” one of the older kids said. He took a step towards Danny. Danny pressed his ears flat against his head and hissed at the approach. “If you managed to sacrifice Patches to a demon, your Mom would straight up murder you.” He laughed when he said it, like anything about that was remotely funny.

Uh- what now?

Only now, Danny noticed a very distressed calico cat underneath a laundry basket on the other side of the room. There was a stack of textbooks weighing the basket down. A large rug had been rolled up and- he sneezed rapidly, eyes watering. Chalk! They'd drawn on the floor with chalk!

‘This is some incompetent summoning,’ Danny realized, way too late. ‘Did they- how did they turn me into a cat?’ He looked at his unfortunate brethren under the laundry basket. Her ears were flat against her skull and she looked scared.

He remembered the word “sacrifice” and his blood flushed hit with fury. They'd wanted him to eat her! They'd wanted something to eat miss Patches!

The teenagers froze and looked at him, aghast at the angry sounds that were coming out of his throat.

“Shut up!” One hissed. She took off her shoe and threw it at him. Danny dodged and then threw his head back to yowl even louder. Sonic attack! Aural damage, you big jerks!

“The neighbors are going to- make it shut up!”

Danny had to run, dashing over furniture and tearing his way across a crowded table to avoid being grabbed. He screamed the whole time, eager to alert whoever they were so afraid of. Someone should see!

The window burst in.

Danny stopped running, shocked. He hadn't actually expected-

Someone snatched him up from behind and smacked him on the face with a palm. His jaw exploded with pain. It cut off his yowling.

Stunned. He was still for a moment and then he struggled for his life. The grip on his ribs was way too tight-

He looked over at the sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath. Holy shit, that was bomb as hell. His eyes went wide at the sight of a heavily armored small child crouched on the windowsill. The boy's eyes were covered, but Danny could still see him look at Danny and the poor calico under the laundry basket. He sneered.

“Unhand the cat or lose your hands at the wrist, you wretch.”

Danny loved him.

The teenager dropped him. Danny caught himself with a stumble. He let out a sad mraow before he could stop himself.

Fight club baby was enraged. “What have you done to this animal?” He hopped down into the room, revealing he was at least a foot shorter than the smallest girl in the room.

Danny trotted to him and started winding around his ankles admiringly. What a good kid! He purred.

“I will be taking both of your cats with me. If you ever harm an animal again, it will be your head that is found in a chalk-”

“Robin.” A hugeass grown man squeezed himself through the window that the kid had broken. Danny craned his head up, up, up, to see him case the joint.

The older man radiated incredible judgment. “I see that you require education on animal welfare and demonic summoning. Go on, Robin.”

“That's my Mom's cat!” One of the teenagers protested. “You can't take her!”

Robin growled at her. Danny jumped in his skin at the sound.

“Then we shall return it to your Mother and her alone, when we explain what you've done.” Danny let murder baby scoop him up and purred at full volume. Hell yeah. He looked at the cowering teenagers with condescension.

“Not that fugly thing.”

Danny blinked. He ended up making an inquisitive mraow. Why was a finger being pointed at him? He was baby.

“That thing showed up, you can get rid of it. But Patches is Mom's cat, and you can't steal a cat because-”

“Batman can steal any cat!” Robin bit out, gathered up Patches, and jumped out the window with both cats in an expert grip.

That didn't sound right, but Danny just enjoyed the night air as a line pulled Robin up to where yet another masked vigilante was waiting, cackling himself to tears.

“Batman can steal any cat,” he wheezed. “Brilliant. Good detour, Robin. Can I hold one?” He held out his blue-striped palms expectantly.

He faltered when he saw Danny, visibly surprised.

Danny… was starting to feel bad. He curled into Robin, hurt. He wasn't ugly. Why did people keep reacting to him weird?

“No,” Robin said curtly. “You have damaged his pride, and Patches is still reeling from her shock.”

The man let out a sigh but let the topic go. “That's Patches, and this is…?”

Robin hesitated. “He is the Snitch.”

That unlocked cooing. “Snitches? Snitchy Snitch Sni- ow!”

Danny snapped at the hand that came way too close and he let out a warning growl. No baby talk!

Robin seemed very pleased. He rubbed behind Danny's ears. “Snitch… I suppose that Snitches will suffice. We are taking him home.”

“....Maybe, just for fun, we should take him to get treated for mange first!” The guy made jazz hands to go with his statement.

Robin and Danny both growled that time.

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: omegaverse, possessiveness, light bullying

part 2

gn reader

Just thinking about how Alpha Beta Omega classes were always the worst. How the teacher would speak about an Alpha's strength and charisma, a Beta's sense of loyalty, and, of course, all of an Omega's weaknesses. 

It didn’t help that you were the only Omega in school. It also didn’t help that your class featured the only Alpha in school too.

All your life, it’s been a myriad of bullying. Katsuki would be at the helm, all the Betas behind him, eagerly following his every move – then you – trod over in the process. 

“You’re an Omega. You know that means you’re stupid, right?” He’d laugh – his canines gleaming in his grin.

“And weak – Katsuki, don’t forget weak!” His friends would add, hyping him up – making his smile ever sharper.

“Yeah! – stupid, weak, slow, and tiny.” You’d be pushed to the dirt, shadowed by his form, gleaming with pride, blocking out the sun. “Heh- sounds like something that belongs beneath a boot.”

All those classes, all those lessons. It’s not really the teacher’s fault. She’d tried using the most unbiased language she could. She’d only been stating facts – but still… couldn’t they have waited until all of you were a little older to tell everyone all the reasons you were different from them?

Granted. The lessons progressed into different territory when you got older. Talking about pheromones and instincts and mating and breeding – how Omega’s fall prey to something called ruts and heats – and how vulnerable they are when they’re caught in it. 

You were burning with embarrassment in your seat – feeling feverish from the toll of it – knowing how all this new information was going to be like fuel to fire – how Katsuki was going to use it for all it was worth.

You dared glance over at him – sitting by the window – he had an elbow propped on the desk and his head resting in the palm it supported. It didn’t seem like he was paying attention – his face turned away, looking outside instead. You couldn’t tell whether he was listening. You hoped he wasn’t.

But if you’d looked extra close, you’d see the beat red blush on his ear and cheeks.

To your pleasant surprise, Bakugou didn't approach you at all after that. You thought for sure he’d mock you, but it seemed that maybe… he’d grown out of it, perhaps? Either way, you were happy to think he’d forgotten all about you.

If only you knew he was on a mission to ignore you. You hadn’t noticed, too humiliated by the things being said about the nature of Omegas to have listened to what the teacher said about Alphas – and all their strange possessive habits – their need to mark their mate with bites and scent and-

He shuddered.

It’s a complete surprise. He can’t believe all these years he’s wanted you like that. But ever since you were kids, he’s been imprinting on you – chasing you, biting you, coveting you. It’s so embarrassing he can’t believe it. Is this really the reason you piss him off so much?

He knows it is – now; that one look at you has him blushing and his pants tight in the crotch. Fuck – do you even know? Have you known all along?

No… you’re acting like nothing’s amiss. Chatting up extras with an oblivious smile on your face – acting like you don’t belong to him.

How’s he going to keep you in check when you’re going to different schools by next term? How’s he gonna keep others away from you? Shit- what if there are other alphas at the school you’re going to? What if-

Fuck! His chest is pounding so hard and fast it hurts. He’s going to lose you…

You’re trembling – on the verge of tears – when he drags you off behind the school on graduation day.

His face was in his normal scowl.

He hasn’t bothered you all year – why, what-

“You’re gonna wear this at your new school, or you’re not gonna go.” He mutters – his fist shoving a ball of black fabric into your stomach – not hard, but enough to make you flinch. “Don’t wash it. Bring it back to me, and I’ll give you a new one.”

Your brows furrow.

“Every week. Or else I’ll hunt you down.”

He takes a step closer – you yelp as your back hits the wall, then whimper when his nose brushes along your hairline – his breaths hot.

“This’ll let every extra know you already belong to me.”

When he walks away, back in a slouch and hands shoved down his pant pockets – you unravel the mess of black in your hands – revealing a skull-print plastered on a large hoodie.

It smells like Kachan.

part 2

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Demon Children Are Multiplying

This idea is still stuck in my head, and I might even end up writing something out of it, but for now, I just thought of something equally really, really stupid and really, really funny.

What if I combine that idea with Al Ghul Twins. I don't know how. Maybe Talia was cautious about Ra's not wanting to keep two kids for a position of Heir, or maybe she staged Danny's death, or maybe something else entirely happened. But anyway, Danny is Damian's twin.

Then, Dani is the same age as Danny in this AU. And Dan is de-aged to be the same age as both of them.

Now behold an absolute train wreck of a situation where Bruce attends a Gala hosted by Vladimir Masters. Together with Damian, of course, and maybe other batkids are there too. They all part their ways to make their rounds or whatnot. And they all keep seeing Damian wherever they go. Just everywhere.

Dick is talking to someone, and Damian walks past him, not paying him any attention. Which is not surprising, but a little rude, and, wait, wasn't he wearing a red tie? When did he change it to green one?

Tim is just going on the top floor to greet a lady he recognizes from some other event, and Damian all but storms in the opposite direction, only letting Tim catch a glimpse of his face. But when Tim turns around, he is really confused: the person running down the stairs is clearly a girl, albeit she is wearing a suit. Her long hair is up in a complicated braid. Why did he even mistake her for Damian?

But the ultimate confusion happens when Bruce is talking to Vladimir Masters, and a very familiar voice calls, "Father". Because both he and Vladimir turn to face the boy and ask, "Yes?" at the same time.

Damian is standing there, looking between Bruce and Vlad. He looks a little off somehow, but before Bruce can figure out why, the boy blinks and focuses on Vlad.

"We've been looking for you," he tells the man, and, wait, when was Damian looking for Masters? Furthermore, who is we?

But then another child comes closer. And-

That's Damian.

That's two Damians.

Wait, no, none of them are Damians.

"What is it?" Vladimir raises an eyebrow, not paying too much attention to Bruce's blanched expression.

A third child comes towards them, and this one also looks like Damian, only this one is a girl.

"Template's duplicate is here," she says, and Vlad frowns, turning to the Damian lookalike in the middle.

"Have you had another incident that I don't know of?"

Whatever answer the boy wanted to give is cut off by a n o t h e r child who looks like- no, this is real Damian, thank God, Bruce had started to wonder if the champagne was spiked with hallucinogens.

"Father-" he stops in his tracks as the three other children turn to him, and the four of them just stare at each other for a long moment. Then the one in the middle takes a sharp breath in and stage-whispers:

"Quick, do the meme!"

And all three not-Damians start pointing at each other.

Bruce is going to have an aneurysm. Judging by Vladimir's face, he is also not far from one.

Just my ramblings under the cut

I think you all know what meme I'm talking about, but I'm still gonna add it

This is so fucking hilarious to me, I'm sorry, I just can't

Danny is not missing this opportunity of a lifetime, even though Vlad specifically asked all three of them not to cause a scene. And yes, they all call Vlad "father" just for the spite of it or for shits and giggles. I'm going with Bad Fentons idea here, although I'm not sure to which degree they are bad, but anyway, Vlad is their legal guardian, and he is redeemed.

Yes, Dick took a picture. Yes, it's already in the group chat. Yes, other batkids are going wild.

Damian is greatly confused because, first, he thought there was a clone of him at the gala, but apparently, there were three of them, and second, why are they pointing at each other? Should he join them? He is under the assumption his brother is dead (he's not exactly wrong on that account), or he doesn't even know he existed.

This is as far as I got now, feel free to add anything!

[cammys-imagines24]

°•NSFW Abby Headcanons•°

Abby likes when you yank on her braid. Either to pull her down to your height for a kiss or when she's eating you out, how you tug on her hair as if it were a horses reins, guiding her to exactly where you need her.

Size kink. This woman gets off on the fact that she's so much bigger than you. How, if she wanted to have her way with you, there's absolutely nothing you could do to fight her off.

Her whole body was practically made to dominate you and make you suffer (in a good way.) From her big, calloused hands, to her meaty thighs, her thick, buff arms and substantial height.

Just the thought of her being able to easily maneuver your body and use you in anyway she pleases gets her so, so wet.

How she could deny you your own pleasure and you couldn't fight her off... but, she's much too giving to deny you for too long. Unless you're being a brat of course.

Not into choking per say, however... Abby's hands just look so nice around your pretty, little neck. She'll place her palm around your throat to guide you to where she wants and so your eyes stay on hers, but never will she squeeze. She doesn't want to accidentally hurt you.

Loves to stretch you out with her thick fingers. The sight of her fingers disappearing in your tight hole does something feral to her and with every digit she adds, she can't help but growl.

Heavily into marking and by that I mean, you marking her. There's just something about how when she's pounding into you with her strap, the way you claw into her back...

Your nails dragging angry, red lines down her shoulder muscles and the curve of her spine to find purchase as you scream her name.

She'll admire those scratches in the mirror the morning after endlessly. Smirking at the memories of you two that flash in her mind.

Obsessed with how soft you are compared to her. Your breasts and ass, the malleable flesh she can grab on your tummy and your squeezable hips. There are times where she will be walking by you and just have to slap your ass just to see it jiggle nicely for her.

Sit on her face. It's one of Abby's favorite things and don't pull that hovering bullshit.

She will force you down onto her mouth and nose with her herculean arms and keep you there even if you protest.

Her nose bumping against your clit, her tongue expertly moving in between your folds, her hands leaving imprints upon your thighs from how hard she's forcing you to stay still on top of her.

The type to say the most sugar sweet praises while she's absolutely pounding you into the mattress.

"I love you, you know that? You're so good, so good for me, hon. Taking me so well."

Your cheek pressed against the sheets, her big arms caging around you, thick fingers kneading bruises into your hips. A handprint on your ass.

"Love you, baby. You're the best. All pretty for me, huh? So beautiful when I'm fucking you."

If she could get you pregnant, she would 100%. There's just something primal that clicks in her head when she's using her strap on you. She wishes it were a real cock and she could really fill you up.

Abby's thought about you two having kids more than she'd like to admit.

The type to have the softest aftercare ever, all traces or her dominance stripped bare.

Abby may have used you until you thought you'd pass out, never relenting despite how much you begged for a break, given you so many orgasms you thought you couldn't breathe and you saw stars in your tired, teary eyes...

But, as quick as the snap of a finger, she turns into sweet, caring Abby once more.

She'll wash you clean, smirking at how you whimper from being still so sensitive and run the calloused pads of her fingers along the bruises she left from manhandling you.

You won't be leaving her arms anytime soon. She'll engulf you in her warmth, kissing the love bites she left on your neck and whispering how much she loves you.

"My pretty girl, always so perfect. Rest up, yeah?"

She'll say in a low rasp, lips against your skin and your body encompassed by hers.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Ok ok ok how about thorton!Reader and Rafe but the reader is equally as bad as Rafe and Topper? I’m thinking the golf scene in season one where they jump Pope but the reader happens to be there too and Pope hopes that she’ll help him… but she doesn’t 🫣

Stay off Figure Eight || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: the title of this acc hurts me. I can’t think of one (give me ideas pls) 😭😭 I usually write Thornton!reader as being a sweetheart and friends with Pope (much to Rafe's dismay) but this was fun!!!! send thru any requests you have :)

Warnings: both reader and rafe r crazy, mention of blood, violence, swearing. if you were uncomfortable watching this scene in the series, do not read as I go into detail about it

Word count: 1,608

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

"Man, that party was insane!" your brother exclaims, his laugh carrying through the air. Rafe flashes a grin, his arm tightening around your shoulder as the three of you stroll across the grass, searching for a clear spot on the course.

"I mean, my first thought when I did that line was, 'Bro, do we have enough?'" Topper rambles on, clearly thrilled with his first encounter with cocaine. You roll your eyes, growing weary of hearing the same story on repeat.

"It was crazy!" Topper shakes his head in disbelief, as if trying to wrap his mind around the experience. But you’re beyond over it. "It was just a line of coke, Jesus fucking Christ," you mutter under your breath, sliding your sunglasses off and perching them atop your head.

"I know, right?" Rafe adds, chuckling lightly before he steps away from you, lining up his shot. "That was good shit," he remark as he prepares to drive the ball. You casually pop another piece of gum into your mouth, standing beside Topper, who is still basking in his night.

"Hey, you uh… you didn’t tell Sarah, did you?" Topper’s voice drops to a nervous whisper, worry creeping into his tone, his earlier bravado faltering. The mention of Sarah always makes him nervous.

"Are you kidding me, man? The way she runs her mouth? Hell no," Rafe’s response is quick, dismissive, and you can almost hear the relief in Topper’s sigh as he nods. Rafe swings his club, and the sound of the ball slicing through the air is sharp and satisfying.

You let out a low whistle as you all watch it soar, landing close to a group of middle-aged men playing a few holes ahead. "Hey, come on now!" one of them shouts, annoyed by the interruption. You and Topper exchange a glance, both struggling to contain your laughter.

A snort escapes your brother's lips, while you bite down on your gum to suppress a giggle. "Shut up!" Rafe yells back, dismissing them without a second thought, "Geezers!" "They shouldn’t be taking so long anyway," Rafe mutters, shaking his head as he returns to your side, draping his arm over your shoulder again as you chuckle softly. But then, Rafe suddenly tenses, his gaze locked onto something in the distance.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he mutters, his grip tightening on you. "What is it?" you ask, feigning innocence as you follow his line of sight, already sensing the tension brewing. "What?" Topper asks, confused, before he too follows your stares. Rafe’s eyes narrow, a dark intensity brewing within them as he stares at Pope, who remains blissfully unaware of your presence.

Topper glances at you both, sensing the tension that’s quickly building. "I don’t think he’s a member, do you?" you say aloud. "It’s fine, just... just let him go, all right? Let’s go get your ball," Topper suggests, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalates. His voice is calm, but there’s an underlying edge of anxiety.

You scoff, amused by Topper’s attempt at playing peacemaker. "Softening up to the Pogues, are we, Top?" you tease, your tone dripping with mockery. Topper rolls his eyes but doesn’t rise to the bait. "They put a gun to your head, bro," Rafe interjects, his voice hardening as he turns his attention back to Topper.

Your brother remains calm, determined not to escalate things. "That’s fine. It’s fine. Let’s go," he insists, though his voice wavers slightly. You can’t resist needling him further. "Do you still have cocaine in your system right now, or are you being serious? JJ could have easily pulled the trigger on you," you point out, your brow furrowing in disbelief.

Topper avoids your gaze, his lips pressed into a thin line. Rafe’s patience snaps. "Fuck him," he says, his tone final as he spins on his heel and starts marching toward Pope, dragging you along with him. "Hey, Rafe. Rafe! Let’s get your ball, man!" Topper protests, his hand raking through his hair in frustration. "C'mon, Y/n!"

Rafe’s grip tightens around you, his voice low and determined. "I’m gonna show this idiot exactly whose side of the island he’s on," he murmurs against your hair, a proud smirk tugging at his lips. You chuckle, caught up in his confidence as you follow him down the slight hill toward Pope’s path.

"Hey, what’s up, man!" Rafe greets Pope with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, his approach casual but laced with menace. Pope’s face tightens with a mix of fear and anger as he realises he’s outnumbered. "Hey, how much for one of those beers?" Rafe asks, peering into the bags and blocking Pope’s way. You glance over your shoulder, seeing Topper finally catching up.

"They’re not for sale," Pope replies, his voice steady but his eyes darting nervously between Rafe and Topper. You can see the calculation in his mind, weighing his options in the 2 v 1 situation.

"Oh, wait, wait, wait. You can just give us one, then, right?" Rafe suggests, his tone still deceptively friendly as Topper steps up beside him. You stay a few feet back, understanding that this confrontation is theirs to handle.

"Or you can order one, like everybody else," Pope counters, trying to keep his cool. You fight to keep a straight face, impressed by his nerve. Pope attempts to step around Rafe, but Rafe blocks him again, his patience wearing thin.

"Listen. Wait, wait, wait. You’re not listening to me," Rafe says, his voice hardening. "Um… you’ve got so many, bro, and we’ve got nothing." He glances at Topper and then at you, seeking validation. You shrug in mock agreement, playing along with Rafe’s antics.

"Nothin’, man," Topper chimes in, backing Rafe up. Pope holds firm, though. "They’re not even mine. They’re already paid for," he tries to explain, but Rafe isn’t interested in reason.

"Already paid for? What the hell? You probably stole 'em right?" Rafe mutters, grabbing his club and using it to tear open one of Pope’s bags, spilling its contents across the ground. Pope’s eyes widen in disbelief. "What the hell? You owe me for that!" he protests, his voice rising in anger.

Rafe’s chuckle is dark and humorless. "Look, man, I don’t owe you shit, Pogue," he says, stepping closer to Pope, using his height and presence to intimidate. Pope snaps, shoving Rafe back, his anger finally boiling over.

"Buy your own shit!" Pope yells, his face inches from Rafe’s. "Hey, hey, come on, man!" Topper steps in, grabbing Pope by the shoulders, trying to deescalate. "We just want one of these beers! C’mon, just give us one of these—" Topper’s voice is strained as he fights with Pope over the carton.

"You guys are freaking crazy!" Pope shouts, his grip tightening on the beers. The struggle intensifies until Topper, in a burst of frustration, throws Pope to the ground. Pope’s body rolls, stopping just inches from your feet.

"Shit!" Topper curses, surprised by his own actions. You glance down at Pope, who’s groaning in pain at your feet. "Shit, my bad, man," Topper says, though there’s a hint of amusement in his tone. Pope groans before pushing himself up, and before you can react, he launches himself at Rafe, who’s ready for him. Rafe’s club swings down, hitting Pope hard and repeatedly until he falls back to the ground.

"Hey! Rafe, Rafe! Come on, man!" your brother shouts, his voice panicked. "Stay down, bitch!" Rafe yells, his anger boiling over. Topper looks at you, desperation in his eyes, but you remain still, blowing a bubble with your gum, unfazed. "Hey, let’s go! Let’s go, man!" Topper insists, trying to pull Rafe back. Rafe ignores him, his rage blinding him as he lifts the club higher, slamming it down near Pope’s head.

Pope groans, blood trickling from his mouth as he lies on the ground. Rafe crouches down, grabbing Pope’s face, forcing him to look at him. "We don’t want you here. Got that?" Rafe’s voice is low and menacing as he pats Pope’s cheek. "Stay off Figure Eight, Pogue," he warns before straightening up and walking away.

"Top, let’s go!" Rafe calls out, not bothering to check if your brother is following. Topper hesitates, his face a mix of shock and disbelief. You don’t move until Rafe is nearly at your side, and then, to everyone’s surprise, you walk past him, heading toward Pope. Rafe stops, watching you with confusion, and Topper’s brows knit together as they both try to figure out what you’re doing.

"I swear to God, Y/n, if Mom finds out that you’re involved—" Topper begins, but you cut him off sharply. "Oh, shut up!" you snap, crouching down to reach for your favorite beer bottle that had fallen from Pope’s bag. "What the fuck is she doing?" you hear Topper mutter, his disbelief clear as he watches you.

Pope watches you silently, his face bruised and bloody. "This could have been so much easier for you if you had just given them the beer," you sigh, noticing the bottle opener clipped to his belt loop. Pope’s eyes flare with anger, but he’s too hurt to do anything. "Fuck. You," he seethes as you pop the bottle open with a practiced flick.

"Cheers!" you smile, taking a sip before standing up and walking back to Rafe and Topper. They’re both stunned, not sure whether to laugh or be shocked by your coldness. "What? It’s my favourite," you pout playfully. Rafe chuckles, clearly impressed as he pulls you back to his side, while Topper scoffs loudly, shaking his head in disbelief.

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part two)

(part one)

Steve doesn’t know how long they sit there in silence, waiting. It’s making him insane. The seconds pass too slow; the seconds pass too fast. His mind is a storm; his mind is empty. He’s feeling too much; he’s not feeling at all. He paces the room; he sits catatonically against a wall. He needs to get out of here; he needs to stay. 

He’s been here before, just barely over a week ago, tense and anxious and despairing and waiting for news. But waiting to hear if Eddie will ever remember him again really should not feel this much worse than waiting to hear if Eddie will ever fucking breathe again. Steve thinks there must be something wrong with him. He’s being selfish and stupid. His pathological fucking need to be loved is not what’s important right now. Eddie is alive and awake and okay and that’s the only thing that really matters. That’s the only thing he should really care about.

Steve’s pacing again now, yanking his hands through his hair as he does laps around the room until Eddie finally appears in the doorway. 

Eddie must’ve just cracked a joke or something because the nurse is laughing as she pushes his bed into the room and he’s got this adorable grin on his face. Steve’s heart twists in his chest and he nearly bursts into tears all over again because god does he want nothing more than to press a kiss to those dimpled cheeks. 

“Good news, boys,” Eddie announces. “My brain is fully intact.”

“There’s no physical permanent damage to his brain,” the nurse elaborates. “His amnesia is likely a result of psychological trauma and the temporary disruption of brain function from blood loss and lack of oxygen that occurred at the time of his injury. But there is no obvious reason why he shouldn’t regain his full memory, given time.” 

So there’s hope. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. 

“That is good news,” Wayne agrees. 

Steve asks, “How much time?” 

The nurse gives an unhelpful shrug. “Impossible to say. It could be anywhere from days to months, or even years. I’m sorry, there’s no way for us to know.” 

Years. “Okay.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He can keep it together. He can. “Thanks,” he tells the nurse. “I, uh-” He makes the mistake of looking at Eddie who looks right through him, and Steve can’t keep it together anymore actually. “I gotta update the kids,” he mutters, backing his way towards the door. Wayne nods in acknowledgment; no protests this time at Steve’s excuse to leave.

“See ya, Harrington,” Eddie calls after him, casual, impersonal, like they're nothing more than acquaintances passing by each other in a high school hallway.  

Steve can’t get out of that hospital fast enough. 

He makes it to his car in record time, slamming the door shut and sinking heavily into the driver’s seat. A ragged sob tries to claw its way up his throat now that he’s finally alone, but he forces it back, staving off his breakdown for just a little bit longer. As much as it was an excuse, he really does have to update the kids. 

Steve fishes his walkie out of the glove box. “Code - whatever, I don’t know. Code Eddie,” he says. He doesn’t remember the kids’ system of codes, nor would he be sure which one this news falls under even if he did. 

“Is he okay? Is he awake?” comes an immediate, eager response from Dustin. “Over.” 

“Yeah, he’s awake, and he’s fine, except he’s got pretty bad amnesia. The doctors say it should be temporary, but right now he doesn’t remember anything since May of ‘85,” Steve explains, trying his best to keep his voice even.

“Steve, come pick me up and take me to see him,” Dustin demands, “right now. Over.” 

“Me too. Over,” Mike chimes in before Steve can respond. 

“And us,” Erica adds as well. 

Steve pauses for a second, both to steady his own breath and to make sure no one else wants to jump in on this too, before he reminds them, “He won’t know you, any of you.” 

“I don’t care,” Dustin says, bossy as ever. “Just come get me. Over.” 

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Steve mutters to himself. He sucks in another breath; it wobbles dangerously. He’s just about reached his limit on how long he can keep himself from falling apart. “I- I need a minute, alright?” he manages through the walkie. “Can you just give me, like, an hour? And then I’ll take you guys to visit Eddie.” 

Steve doesn’t wait for a response before he slams the antenna closed, tosses the walkie aside, and finally, finally lets himself shatter. That sob rips free from his throat, followed by another and another and another. Tears flood from his eyes; his nose runs. It’s an ugly, gross, visceral cry that leaves him exhausted and raw and aching to be held by the time the last sob shudders out of him. Drained and hollow, he craves the embrace of someone who knows him, someone who loves him. 

He sweeps up his broken pieces, wipes the mess of tears and snot off his face, and drives to Robin’s house.

“Steve, oh my god.” Robin pulls him into a hug the second she opens the door and sees the look on his face. Steve clings to her. “What happened?” 

“Eddie’s awake,” he mutters dismally. 

“Oh! Not the tone I’d expect you to deliver that news in, but okay.” Robin pulls back, looking at him with narrow-eyed concern and confusion as she analyzes his puffy eyes and red nose and swollen lips. “And you look like you’ve just been crying because…?”

“Because he doesn’t remember me, Rob,” Steve sighs. “He doesn’t remember anything from the past 11 months.” 

Robin’s eyes go wide now. “Shit,” she says, so plainly it startles a short laugh out of Steve. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Shit.” 

She asks him more questions as she walks down the hallway so they can talk in her room. Steve once again reiterates what was said at the hospital. 

“So you didn’t tell him you two were a thing?” Robin asks, closing her door behind them. 

“Of course I didn’t.” Steve flops back onto her bed. “I didn’t want to spook him.” 

She sits beside him. “You didn’t want to spook him,” she repeats, looking down at him with raised eyebrows, “but you told him about Vecna.” 

“Well, yeah. I just-” He lifts his arms to gesture vaguely into the air as he tries to explain himself. “I mean, imagine how you would feel if you woke up in a hospital and some random guy you’ve spoken to maybe twice was by your bedside telling you you’ve been in a relationship with him for the past 9 months.” 

“Uh, I don’t know, dingus, probably about the same as I’d feel if said guy told me I’d nearly died fighting some evil twisted creature from a hell dimension,” Robin retorts.

Steve drops his hands onto his chest with a huff, shaking his head. “No, trust me. He seemed far less surprised by that than he did to hear that we were even just friends,” he says, a bit bitterly. Tears are pricking at his eyes again as he looks up at his best friend. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me, Robin. All he saw was King Steve.”

Robin softens, snark replaced with sympathy. “That sucks, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

Steve sighs in agreement that yes this really fucking sucks. He sits up and scoots back so that he’s slumped against the wall, hitting the back of his head against it. “I think I’m a horrible person,” he admits, just venting now, “because of course I’m glad Eddie’s alive and all I really want is for him to be okay, and I know the nurse said he should remember eventually, but there’s still some sick part of me that thinks maybe it would’ve hurt less if he had just died.”

“I don’t think that makes you a horrible person,” Robin assures him as she settles next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “I think you’re just grieving, and grief is weird sometimes.”

“It was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt,” he mutters, “when he looked at me without recognition. To see it on his face, just the- the absence of everything that we’d built. I’ve never felt so- so- I don’t know, it was like I couldn’t breathe. He just- he doesn’t know that I love him. He…he doesn’t know that he loved me...” 

Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s not that he’s lost someone that he loves, it’s that he’s lost someone who loves him. Because Eddie’s not gone, just his love for Steve is, and that’s what’s tearing him apart. It’s the fact that there’s one less person in the world who loves him. It’s the fact that Steve’s got this big gaping hole inside of him that’s always made him so desperate to be loved, liked, wanted, needed; and his biggest fucking fear is becoming obsolete. He could probably trace it back to his parents, the first to forget him, the first to stop loving him, but the fact remains that now Eddie has fulfilled that fear too. Now Eddie has carved that pit a little deeper, a little darker, validating the voice that whispers within it and tells Steve that he is forgettable, unlovable, so easy to abandon and erase. 

“Well, I love you,” Robin tells him, like she can read his mind (which, at this point, she probably can). She slides an arm around his shoulders, hugs him close. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 

Fragile as he is right now, Steve falls apart again in her arms, and she holds him together. Because she knows him, because she loves him.

It’s a quieter cry this time, soft and sniffly. Whereas the last one wracked through his body and left him fatigued, this one flows from him almost gently, and when his tears finally subside and he lifts his head from where it had been buried in his friend’s shoulder, Steve actually feels a little bit better, a little bit stronger. Which is good, because he’s gonna have to face Eddie again soon. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly as he pulls away from Robin, wiping at his eyes and glancing at the clock on her nightstand. It’s definitely been an hour by now, probably more. He stands. “I have to go, I promised the kids I’d take them to see Eddie.” 

“Then I’m coming too.” Robin stands with him. “For moral support.” 

Steve gives her a grateful smile. “I love you so fucking much, you know that?” 

“Yeah.” She grins at him. “I know.” 

~ 

The nurses have changed his bandages and upped his morphine, so Eddie’s considerably hazy now but at least he can raise his headrest and prop himself up a bit without nearly blacking out from pain. He’s boredly flicking through channels on the shitty TV in front of him, alone since Wayne had to leave for work, when Harrington returns followed by a very unexpected group consisting of Robin Buckley and four strange children. 

“Sorry,” Harrington announces their presence with an apologetic shrug, “I know you don’t know them anymore, but they insisted.” 

“Eddie!” a pudgy, curly-haired kid shouts before Eddie can even react, coming barrelling towards him and trying to hug him. 

“Ow!” Eddie yelps, pain flaring even through the extra morphine. “Fucking Christ, kid! Be careful!” 

The kid jumps back immediately, eyes wide. “Shit. Sorry.” 

“S’fine,” Eddie grumbles.

The kid looks at him expectantly for a moment before seeming to realize, “Oh, right, you don’t remember me. I’m Dustin.” 

“Ah, so you’re the guy I sacrificed myself for,” Eddie mutters, and Dustin looks a little sheepish. That means these must be ‘the kids’ Harrington had been talking about earlier. He surveys the group for a second. “Actually, I think we have met before,” he tells Dustin. “And you too.” He glances at a pale, dark-haired kid. The other two - a Black boy with a flat-top and a younger Black girl - look less familiar, though. “There was this, uh, open day thing at the high school for next year’s incoming freshmen; I talked to you about Hellfire.”

“Yeah!” Dustin’s whole face lights up, so bright and infectious it makes Eddie grin too. “Yeah, you did!” 

“So you guys joined the club, then?” 

This sparks a very animated conversation about D&D, the rest of the kids (Mike, Lucas, and Erica, as they soon reintroduce themselves) gathering around his bed now too to join in. It makes him feel a bit more like himself again, familiar, normal. Except, of course, for the fact that they’re not only talking about how they defeated Vecna in Eddie’s “totally epic” and “sadistic” campaign (adjectives courtesy of Dustin and Mike respectively), but also filling in more pieces of the story of how they defeated him in real life too. Still, it’s nice, fun. He totally understands how he could’ve gotten attached to these kids.

At some point, Eddie glances over to find Harrington hanging back and just watching them talk, fondly, wistfully. Robin whispers something to him and he sort of smiles, just a trace, and whispers something back. They seem close, intimate. Eddie wonders if they’re dating, and then he wonders why that thought makes him feel a bit sick. He waves them over. Harrington looks like he’s about to protest, but Robin gives him a Look and he allows her to grab his hand and drag him to join the crowd around Eddie’s bed. 

“So, what’s your deal, Buckley?” Eddie asks her. He doesn’t know her very well, they’ve only crossed paths a few times in the bandroom, but right now that makes her the most familiar person in the room to him. “Are you and Harrington a thing now? Is that how you’re involved in all this?” 

Robin wrinkles her nose and drops Harrington’s hand. “Ew, no. Definitely not.” 

“She’s my best friend,” Harrington says. 

Eddie snorts, doesn’t know why he finds that so comical. (He’s starting to get tired and it’s making him loopy. Or maybe it’s just the morphine.) “You've got a funny choice of friends nowadays, don’t you? Me and band geek Buckley and a bunch of nerdy freshmen.” He looks at Harrington with incredulous amusement. “Who would've thought, huh? Steve Harrington, collector of geeks and freaks.” 

Harrington doesn’t seem to find it as funny. He shrugs. “Yeah, well, it’s better than King Steve, collector of asshole bullies and shallow one-night stands.” 

“Yeah, ‘course it is,” Eddie agrees through another huff of laughter that breaks off into a yawn. “Didn’t mean it as a bad thing, Stevie. Was a compliment.” 

“Alright.” The barest hint of a smile flickers across Harrington’s face now, but then he’s looking away and corralling the kids and saying, “We should head out, let you get some rest.” 

And Eddie kind of wishes he’d stay.

(part three!)

taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy (only tagged people who explicitly asked to be tagged; if you would like to be added or removed from this list please lmk!)

[pucksandpower]

Heyyyyy how are you? Hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself. How is medical school hope you're doing good. So I was thinking about the grid kids series and a scenario appeared in my head. So basically the baby still a toddler say a swear word and when asked who taught her that she just tell she heard that from Yuki, but in reality it was the grid kids that braided her with candy. It's just so funny to me

Grid Kids: Potty Mouth

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids help expand their sister’s vocabulary in interesting ways

Series Masterlist

It’s a lazy Saturday morning and you’re making breakfast. Your toddler daughter is happily perched on Sebastian’s lap at the kitchen island, babbling about anything and everything while he nods along seriously.

The grid kids lounge around, still half-asleep. Game night ran late, fueled by one too many Red Bulls and everyone’s chronic competitiveness.

Charles yawns loudly. “I don’t know how she has so much energy already.”

“Right?” Lando grumbles. “It should be illegal to be awake before 10 am on weekends.”

Max stumbles to the coffee maker, nearly tripping over George who’s fallen back asleep on the floor. Mick and Lance are slumped together on the couch, bleary-eyes barely open.

As you finish cooking, you turn to your daughter. “Okay sweetie, breakfast is ready!”

She grins, kicking her little legs excitedly. As Sebastian goes to lift her into the highchair, she suddenly shrieks “FUCK!”

A stunned silence descends on the room. Eight heads swivel towards the little girl, eyes wide. Sebastian and you exchange horrified looks.

“Where did you learn that word?” You ask gently.

She blinks up at you innocently. “Yuki said it!”

The grid kids practically dive over each other to appear shocked and appalled.

“Yuki? Using language like that?” George exclaims.

“How disgraceful!” Max adds. “We’ll be having a stern talking to with him about this.”

You raise an eyebrow at them.

Something seems … off.

Sebastian kneels to your daughter’s level. “Honigbienchen, are you sure Yuki said that? Not one of your brothers?”

She nods vigorously. “Yuki said it when we were playing race cars!”

The boys subtly sigh in relief.

Crisis averted.

Or so they think.

“You know, I don’t recall Yuki having a chance to play with you recently,” you say slowly.

A tense pause.

Sideways glances are exchanged.

The grid kids develop a sudden fascination with the ceiling.

“Alright boys, enough playing dumb. Who taught her the swear word?” Sebastian asks, his Dad Voice™ making them squirm.

“It was Max!”

“It was Charles!”

“It was Lando!”

“It was Lance!”

“It was George!”

“It was Mick!”

They all exclaim in unison, pointing fingers.

A fierce blame game erupts as their bickering intensifies to chaos.

“Enough!” You shout over the noise.

The six drivers fall silent, heads hanging guiltily.

You sigh, lifting your daughter into her highchair. “We’re very disappointed in all of you. You know she’s at the stage where she repeats everything she hears.”

“We’re sorry,” Mick says quietly. “We should have been more responsible.” The others nod, mumbling apologies.

“And we’re sorry we made you say it was Yuki, munchkin,” Lance adds. “We just didn’t want Mom and Dad to be mad at us.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “Lying makes it worse. But we know you didn’t mean any harm.”

“Tell you what,” you offer. “Whoever teaches her the most educational words this week is forgiven. Good, clean words only!”

The boys’ faces light up. Charles grabs a notepad and they huddle together, beginning to strategize.

You can’t help but smile.

Crisis averted.

***

What follows is a week of mayhem.

“Look Lando, it’s an AARDVARK!” George points excitedly at a cartoon aardvark in a book. “Aardvark starts with A!”

Lando nods seriously. “Aardvark. Aaaaardvark.”

Your daughter claps her little hands. “Aawdvawk!”

The boys high-five. One point for them.

Later, Max drives his toy model RB22 towards her. “Vroom vroom! This is a race car! It has DRS. Can you say drag reduction system?”

She scrunches her nose. “Dwag wedection system!”

“Nice one!” Lance whispers. Max grins, ruffling your daughter’s hair smugly.

At dinner, Charles scans his food. “Mmm, broccoli! This is BROCCOLI!” He holds up a roasted floret. “Can you try and say it?”

“Bwock-lee!” Your daughter squeals through a mouthful of the vegetable. Charles pumps his fist.

Mick doesn’t waste time and pulls out a small globe as soon as she finishes eating, pointing at a certain country. “Look! It’s Germany! That’s where Papa and I come from. Can you say Germany?”

Your daughter scrunches her face in concentration. “Ger...mummy?”

Mick chuckles, “Close enough!”

Sebastian winks at you with a smirk, “Well Mummy sure did conquer Germany, didn’t she?”

You playfully raise an eyebrow, “If by Germany you mean one particularly sexy German driver, then yes, I guess I did.” The grid kids pretend to gag.

Too bad. You’ll take the payback any way you can.

This continues for days. Meal times become vocabulary lessons, walks around the house are accompanied by exaggerated pointing at objects. Books are read with ridiculous enthusiasm, animal noises amplified.

You and Sebastian exchange amused looks as the boys vie for your daughter’s attention, each hoping to teach her the most complex word or phrase. Their efforts have become less about earning forgiveness and more about one-upping each other.

By the end of the week, her vocabulary has expanded exponentially. The boys even taught themselves some new words in the process.

As the boys argue over who should be declared the winner during dinner the following Saturday, Sebastian whistles loudly. “Enough! You all went above and beyond this week with her.”

You smile. “You’re all forgiven. And I think we can thank you for increasing her word bank more in a week than months of normal teaching.”

They cheer, exchanging pleased grins.

You lean down to your daughter’s level. “Now, can we agree no more bad words?”

She nods seriously. “No fuck!”

The room descends into chaos once again.

***

It’s race day and the paddock is hectic as usual. You and Sebastian finally relented and brought your daughter along after weeks of nonstop begging from the grid kids to have their sister on the sideline cheering for them.

As you walk through the pit lane, she squeals and points. “Max! Lando! Chawles! Lance! Mick! Geowge!”

The boys grin, waving enthusiastically as they rush to crowd around her, cooing over how big she’s gotten in the few days they haven’t seen her while she giggles and soaks up the attention.

Nearby, Yuki is chatting with his trainer. Your daughter tugs Sebastian’s hand and skips over to him. “Yuki! Hi Yuki!”

Yuki turns, smiling. “Hi, o-joh-chan! Excited for the race?”

She nods, pigtails bouncing. As Yuki leans down to chat with her, a two-way radio falls off a passing golf cart, narrowly missing his foot.

“Ah shit!” He exclaims before freezing. Your daughter’s eyes go wide. The grid kids stiffen, bracing themselves.

Yuki stares at you and Sebastian in horror, realizing his mistake. “Oops! Uh, I mean ... shoot!”

But it’s too late. A devilish grin spreads across your daughter’s face.

This is her moment.

“SHIT!” She shouts gleefully.

Yuki turns bright red as laughter erupts around him. “I am so sorry!” He sputters. “I didn’t mean to—”

Sebastian just chuckles, patting his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we know it was an accident.”

Your daughter is thrilled with this new word she can very clearly enunciate. She spots two team principals across the paddock.

“Chwistian! Shit!” She yells. “Toto! Shiiit!”

Christian trips over his own feet. Toto turns an alarming shade of splotchy red but can’t help laughing. You and Sebastian hurry over, trying to shush her excited swearing.

The grid kids are crying with laughter. Charles is wheezing. “This is even better than I imagined!”

Max high-fives your daughter. “That’s my girl! You tell them!”

You shoot him a warning look and he gives you an innocent grin. Sebastian scoops up your still-cursing daughter, bouncing her gently. “Alright sweetie, I think that’s enough for today.”

Her lip wobbles. “But it’s fun, Papa.”

The boys are zero help, doubled over cackling. Yuki still looks mortified.

Sebastian kisses your daughter’s forehead, stifling a grin. “I know but let’s keep the excitement PG for now, okay? You can say those words when you’re a grown up too.”

You take her little hand, ready to steer her away before she can scar any more eardrums. As you walk off, she peeks over Sebastian’s shoulder and yells one last farewell.

“Bye Yuki! SHIIIT!”

[slttygeto]

"IT'S A BLUE WORLD WITHOUT YOU" -- GOJO. S

c.w: heavy manga spoilers, heavy content mentioned towards the end (su!cide), wrote this with fem! reader on mind.

word count: 2k.

note: this is how I cope.

You are fifteen and you think Satoru is annoying.

You like rainy days. You like the feeling of comfort that comes with hearing the sound of rain hit the ground, the smell of soil and winter approaching and everyone pulling out their colored umbrellas to shield themselves from getting what. You love the rain, but you learn that someone doesn’t.

The door to the classroom slides open and you see a new figure standing by the door, looking extremely pissed. You share a look with your classmate, Shoko before Yaga steps from behind the new student and clears his throat.

“Girls, we have a new student-“

“I hate the rain.” The white haired boy interrupts your teacher and you furrow your eyebrows. Did he not know anything about respecting his elders? But before you could even think of possibly pointing it out to Shoko, Yaga’s hand collides with the back of the boy’s head and a loud smack echoes in the classroom. You watch the scene unfold with wide eyes.

“I was talking,” Yaga presses and the white haired male rubs the back of his head with a whine.

“That hurt!”

“Good. Anyway, this piece of shit is Gojo Satoru. He will be a student here with you. That’s Shoko,” Yaga points at the girl before moving his pointer towards you.

“And that’s (Name). Sit between them or next to one of them, it’s up to you.”

Gojo’s eyes flicker between you and Shoko for a good second before deciding to put his desk next to you and you raise your eyebrow.

“What?” He asks and you finally notice that he has sunglasses on during cold weather.

“I like to sit next to the window.”

“Well, he told me to choose.” He says before looking outside of the window, turning his back towards you.

“You don’t like the rain,” you add. “But I do, and I wanna sit next to the window when it rains.”

“You like the rain?” He sounds offended but you don’t falter and simply nod.

“Very much.” You hear him sigh before moving his seat back a little, swaying back and forth.

“Okay, let’s change seats.”

“That easily?” You raise an eyebrow and you can tell that he’s glaring at you behind his glasses.

“Just take the seat.”

Shoko watches the interaction with careful eyes but doesn’t say anything. When she turns to face the board, she notices Yaga staring at the two of you with something she couldn’t quite understand at the time, but she remains quiet nonetheless.

But then you turn seventeen, and you still think Gojo is just as annoying—idiotic, even.

You know you shouldn’t make him feel worse than he already feels, but Suguru was a dear friend of yours and the fact that Satoru couldn’t make him stay—despite it not being his responsibility made you feel like shit. So you storm to his room, you bang at the door and open it before he can even get out of his bed.

“You’re an idiot.” Satoru’s never seen you this heartbroken, but his eyes are puffy too and you should’ve stopped—you should’ve just left his room, but you didn’t. “You’re an idiot, you’re a horrible person!” And the louder you got, the closer Gojo stepped towards you.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Your heart stills at the loudness of his voice. “You think I am not aware of how badly I fucked up? You think I don’t know what was expected of me? I do! But I fucked up, and there’s nothing me-the strongest can do about it!”

And by the time tears are falling down his cheeks, you are holding his face and bringing him closer to you—hugging him the same way he’s been craving for years. You hold Gojo Satoru like the most fragile worn out cup in your pantry, you stroke his hair and let him cry on your shoulder as you wet his shirt too. For the first time in a while, you both feel like kids and you don’t realize the weight of what you both went through with Suguru leaving the school.

By the time you turn 26, Megumi has gotten used to your presence around the house. He doesn’t know whether or not you and Satoru are a thing, you never call each other ‘babe’ or endearing terms, and he knows just how shameless the white haired male can be, so embarrassment wasn’t something that could ever hold him back from referring to you as his partner. But he doesn’t, and neither do you.

You sleep in the same room, on the same bed. There have been nights where you and Satoru would simply cuddle on the couch and not exchange a single word, the comfortable silence engulfing the both of you when Megumi walks downstairs to the scene makes him raise an eyebrow before blurting out a single sentence.

“What are you two?” You look up from your book and Satoru groans a little because he was far behind in the page you were reading compared to you, but he looks at the boy you both took in after the tragedy that happened with Megumi’s father and gives him a look.

“And how does it matter to you?”

“It’s just… weird.” Megumi confesses and you give him an apologetic smile.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” The softness of your voice with him has always been the boy’s favorite thing, a reminder that a motherly figure that cares deeply for him does exist.

“No, but I just wish you made it official.”

His words hit you hard, and you try to pretend like it didn’t distract you from the book you were reading. Megumi goes back to his room and you are left with Satoru who seems to be adamant on getting you to notice him, or tell him off as he breathed hard against the back of your neck.

“Anything on your mind, Satoru?” you finally broke the silence and you shudder when you feel him press his lips against your nape.

“Don’t you wanna think about what he just said?”

And as honest as you can get, you simply reply. “No. I like it this way. Don’t you?”

Satoru is quiet. He presses a kiss to your skin and whispers against it. “Would love to call you mine one day.”

“I’m already yours.”

“Then let me say it,” Satoru makes you sit up and leave the warmth of his embrace. He turns your face around to look at him and speaks more firmly. “Let me call you mine.”

You’ve known Satoru for so long, but never has he made you feel so small and so intimidated. You are barely able to look him in the eye, flushed cheeks and trembling lips giving away the swirl of emotions inside you.

“Satoru…”

“Are you mine?” He whispers and his hand grabs your face in a way that has your breath catching in your throat.

“I am yours.” You whisper back, voice so small and body leaning towards his.

“Yeah,” he breathes out and his eyes trail down to your wet lips. “You’re mine.”

The night is long after that and you remember having to skip work the next day, with Gojo giving the kids a lame excuse as to why you didn’t wake up early to make them breakfast like you usually do.

“She caught a cold,” Satoru makes his way out of the house when he makes sure both Tsumiki and Megumi are in the car and the latter gives him a look.

“She was fine yesterday.”

“Yeah, I was surprised too.” The grin that Gojo flashes his spiky haired son is too cocky for the boy’s liking. You wake up an hour later with pain killers, breakfast and a note on your nightstand.

--I’ll be back after I drop the kids. I miss you already. I really enjoy calling you mine<3

You both are twenty seven when Satoru has to fight Suguru one last time. You hold your breath as your approach the duo having what you supposed was their last conversation, and with teary eyes, you step from behind the strongest to glance at the almost lifeless body of your once very close friend.

“Suguru,” you try not to let it show on your face, but you are broken. You don’t feel betrayed by him, you never did and it was something that Satoru chose to ignore since he felt all sorts of emotions when it came to his best friend’s abrupt decision a decade ago.

“Oh, you’re here,” the relief in Suguru’s voice makes your shoulders shake and your lip trembles in a sad attempt not to cry.

“When I asked to meet up all those years ago,” Suguru continues with half a smile. “You didn’t show up.”

“I refused to believe anything being said about you.” You confess. “Which is a bit insulting to you because you took it so seriously but…” You trail off, eyes lingering on the bruised body of your friend. “It just hurt. Knowing that I was there, but didn’t do anything about it.”

Suguru tells you that he doesn’t regret anything, how he simply couldn’t be happy in such a cruel world. Satoru tells you not to take a step closer, but you see his teary eyes and you hold the cold body of Suguru as tight as you can. The empty and quiet alleyway is filled with pathetic sobs and hushed comforting words.

You never heal from the incident that happened on December 24th, 2017.

You are now twenty eight and being brought up to the room where Gojo was. After being let out of Kenjaku’s prisom realm, you rush to your boyfriend’s side and slam the door open. There he was, sitting on the bed looking a bit too relaxed.

“Satoru,” you breathe out, tears brimming the corner of your eyes and said man opens his arms in an attempt to catch you when you throw yourself at him.

“Easy there,” he whispers against your hair but you tighten your hold around him and cry on his shoulder. “You really had no faith in me?” He tries to lighten up the mood, but when you pull away and have such a serious look on your face, he almost deflates and lets himself be vulnerable with you.

Almost.

“You were distracted,” you say and grip his shoulders.

“Won’t happen again.” He reassures you and leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Nothing can happen to me,” he continues. “I am the strongest after all.”

The sentence has a bitter taste to it now as you sit front row, watching the last few moments of his fight with Sukuna unfold.

Your seat is pushed back as you stand up abruptly. You wanna cheer when it is announced that Gojo has won, finally won—but you can’t. Your voice is lost, you’re not sure how, but your tongue feels numb and your heartbeat is loud. You feel your stomach churning at the sight.

Satoru spits out blood, and Sukuna has a smug look on his face as he watches the upper half of his opponent’s body detach and fall to the ground with a loud thud. And then it’s quiet.

No one dares to say a word, no one dares to move.

It was over, and Gojo broke the one promise he kept to both you and the students.

“I’ll win.” His lifeless body said otherwise. You can’t find it in you to think of anything—anyone but Shoko.

“Do something!” You scream out to her and the woman flinches at the loudness of your voice. Never has she seen you in so much distress. “Do something, make yourself useful—save him, he’s right there!”

“(Name)-“

“I don’t want to hear it… I don’t-“ you glance towards his body once again and your hands are tangled in your own hair.

“You can’t leave me Satoru,” you wish no one could hear you, but you see Yuuji’s body flinch from the corner of your eyes. “You know I won’t stay if you leave.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[hqbaby]

three — have to be

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.5k content. profanity, college kids being stupid, some angsty feels

Contrary to popular belief, college isn’t that different from high school. No one magically matures overnight and goes from being a snot-nosed brat to a sophisticated adult. Try as you might, it just isn’t the way things go.

College is essentially just high school on steroids. The cliques are more exclusive, padded with unwritten rules and covert acts of initiation. Bullies are more subtle, if not more vicious. And the gossip? Well, the gossip is just as venomous, and news spreads just as fast.

Today’s item of interest is one for the books: The big breakup between the campus crush and the golden boy who bagged her. How they ended things rather abruptly. And how they’re both already dating different people only three weeks later.

“Apparently, you cheated on him,” Nobara tells you, pulling out the lollipop she has in her mouth. “Or you cheated on him. It depends on who you ask.”

“I heard that you were sleeping with a professor,” Maki says.

You frown at her, adjusting your bag on your shoulders. “Yaga?”

“No.” She grins. “Gakuganji.”

You gag at the thought. Which sicko came up with that? Probably Kento, you think. The prick.

The three of you are on your way to a meeting for a pre-law society you joined back in your first year. You’re not quite sure you want to be a lawyer and Maki’s made it clear that she’s just in it for the parties, but as Nobara says, it’s for the connections.

A lot of college has felt like a complete scam to you, if you’re being honest. The classes are fine enough and you occasionally meet interesting people, but for the most part, you’re well-aware that everyone here’s either just coasting or trying to one-up one another. You can’t complain though. In the end, you’re a part of it all.

“I heard something interesting though,” Nobara says, and there’s a dangerous tone in her voice that has you crawling out of your skin. “More than a few people are saying that you’re dating someone new.”

Maki nods, looking at you with a raised brow. “I heard that too.”

“Someone from the business department apparently,” Nobara adds. “Someone you’re incredibly close with.”

You swallow as your two friends turn to you for an answer to their accusations. You and Sukuna made your sham relationship “official” just a few days ago and you haven’t had the time to tell either of them about it. If you’re being honest, you’ve been avoiding the topic for as long as humanly possible because you already know what they’re going to say about the whole thing.

It’s one thing for you to be friends with him despite their clear dislike of him, it’s an entirely different thing to be dating him. To the public’s knowledge at least.

“I was going to tell you guys about that,” you say quietly.

Nobara gapes, dropping her lollipop on the ground. “You’re fucking with us.”

“Before you say anything—”

“Holy shit!” Maki exclaims. She stops in her tracks and grabs your shoulders, shaking you as if to shock some sense into your system. “No. You’re not doing this.”

“I know Satoru fucked you up, but this is not the way to deal,” Nobara tells you. Her arms are flailing around as she tries to get her point across. She probably thinks you’re in too deep, madly in love with the asshole she’s done nothing but warn you about. “Where’s your phone? You’re breaking up with him right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at your friends’ hysterics. Much to their horror.

Maki’s grip on your tightens. “This is serious, babe. It’s not happening.”

“Will you just let me speak?” you say, the laughter shaking your voice. “I’m not dating Sukuna.”

They both let out a sigh of relief.

“But I am pretending to.”

“What kind of fucked up game are you playing?” Maki demands. She’s let go of you now at least. That’s something. “Explain, bitch.”

You roll your eyes and continue walking straight ahead, forcing the two of them to hurry along after you. “It’s just a thing we’re doing,” you say. “It’s basically a joke.”

Nobara groans. “Well, it’s not funny,” she says. “Why are you doing this?”

“I dunno,” you tell her. “I’m petty, I guess.”

They’re clearly displeased with your non-answer. You realize that it was more than ridiculous trying to hide it from them in the first place. There’s really nothing to hide.

“We went to a party over the weekend,” you say. “And Satoru was there… with Kimi.”

Maki purses her lips, but you can tell that she understands. She understands you more than she wants to. She was there with you before the breakup, she saw how much the whole thing had been weighing on you, and she was there immediately after it happened. She saw just how badly the whole thing wrecked you. She knows that you’re being stupid, but she also knows you.

It’s Nobara who scowls and shakes her head. It’ll take more than that to convince her.

“So?” she says. “Then date one of the many guys who throw themselves at your feet. Or get a girl! You’re due for a girl. Pick literally anyone else but him.”

You chuckle at her insistence, draping your arm over her shoulder and squeezing her against you. “I don’t want anything real right now,” you tell her. “All those people want a real relationship that I’m just not ready for, and they don’t deserve to be led on. Besides, Sukuna’s the only one I trust to do something this stupid with.”

“See, that’s how I know you’re fucked in the head,” she says. “You cannot trust a guy like Sukuna. He’s an ass.”

“He’s also my best friend.”

Nobara hangs her head at that. “You know, I wish I’d met you sooner,” she tells you. “Then, I would’ve gotten you away from that asshole before he got his fangs in.”

“I know him,” you say, leaning your head against her. “You gotta trust me on this.”

She wraps her arm around your waist and holds you tight for a moment, then sighs. “If he tries anything stupid though, I will kill him.”

“I’ll help,” Maki says. She goes in front of you, walking backwards so she can keep her eyes on yours. “You’re sure about this?”

You nod, reaching your hand out to grab hers. “I’m sure,” you say. “And it’s only for a month. I’ll probably be ready to move onto something real by then.”

The meeting has been going on for hours. They’re not usually this bad when all you have to talk about is a fundraiser or a seminar or a statement against the school administration or something menial like that. But the agenda today is loaded.

The trip.

The big trip that everyone in the society always gets worked up over. It’s the big event of the year, a weekend where the whole group goes somewhere new and gets completely wasted. 

It isn’t enough that you do charity work or contribute to the campus life like any other club would. It isn’t enough that you all see each other on a weekly basis to party at someone’s house or head to a bar together. To truly make the “connections” that Nobara speaks of, you have to relocate everyone to a beach or camp in the mountains or get locked together in a cabin in the woods.

It’s for bonding, they say. But with how everyone’s arguing right now, you’re almost worried that the whole group is just going to end up hating each other. Just another part of the college experience as they say.

“We are not going to an active volcano for our trip,” Utahime says. “It’s stupid and, honestly, not fun at all.”

Mahito huffs at that. “What’s more fun than knowing that we could die at any moment?” he asks like it’s a completely normal thing to say. “You guys just want to go to the beach again and that’s boring.”

“Where would we even sleep?” Aoi points out.

Utahime nods and looks at Mahito with venom in her eyes. “Exactly.”

“As if anyone sleeps on these trips anyway.”

You raise your hand. “I vote against the volcano.”

“So where would you have us go?” Mahito asks. “Kento’s house?”

The man in question scoffs. “As if I would ever let you in my house.”

“I think the beach is fine,” Nobara says. “We always have fun there anyway.”

“We went there last year though,” you say against your better judgment. When Nobara looks at you like, How are you not siding with me on this? You mouth a quick “sorry.” Then, “Camping’s fun.”

“Bugs,” Mahito.

“Oh, and you think there isn’t anything gross on a volcano?” Utahime.

“What about Aoi’s cabin?” Kento.

“My dad just sold it.” Aoi.

“I vote beach.” Maki.

“Thank you!” Nobara.

The conversation goes round and round. Everyone has an opinion, everyone has something to say, everyone has something they don’t like or don’t want to do. It seems like the whole thing will never end.

“Ski trip,” you say suddenly. The room goes silent. “We’ve never been before, and it’s doable. The budget’s pretty good this year. I think we could swing it.”

Everyone looks at Kento, the keeper of the books, as he turns to his laptop to crunch the numbers. After a moment of typing, he looks up and nods.

“It’ll have to be after the children’s rights fundraiser though,” he says. “We have to make sure we can make the downpayment on the hall for the kids, but after that…”

Everyone looks at Utahime now, the club president who has the final word on everything. “Fine,” she says eventually. “Ski trip it is.”

There’s a round of “finally”s and “fuck yeah”s and patting each other on the back for a job well-done.

“Now, about the children’s rights fundraiser,” Utahime says. “We should really start planning that.”

Everyone groans and there’s eventually a call for a five-minute break.

“We should really kick Mahito out at this point,” Nobara whispers to you as she rests her head on the table. “He doesn’t even do his job half of the time.”

You pat her head and laugh. “He’s harmless,” you tell her, getting up from your seat. “I’m gonna go pee.”

“I’ll come,” Maki says, following you out the door.

The two of you link your hands together and swing them wildly as you make your way to the restroom, a habit you two formed in freshman year when you refused to be suffocated by the crowds of people going from classroom to classroom. Despite seeming like two completely different kinds of people on the surface, the two of you are just menaces at heart. It’s why you’re such good friends.

As you approach the restroom, you can hear a group of girls talking loudly inside.

“Locker room talk,” Maki says, wiggling her eyebrows at you with a smirk on her lips.

You snort, the voices becoming clearer now.

“You’re so lucky.”

“Is he good in bed?”

“He’s lucky to have you.”

“You guys are so embarrassing.”

You stop in your tracks. The last voice is so familiar, terrifyingly so. It’s a voice you’ve heard from a few feet away. In front of you in a line. In the back of a classroom. On the court, counting out the timing for the next steps of the cheerdance.

“He’s really sweet though,” the voice says. “Just this morning, he showed up at my dorm with a bunch of flowers. He said he got them ‘just because.’”

Maki is watching you with concern, confused by why you’ve suddenly stopped moving, why your breath has seemed to hitch in your throat.

Just because.

A bouquet of now-wilted flowers on your kitchen counter. A teddy bear from a carnival tucked beneath your bed. A tennis racket you made him swear not to buy that showed up in your locker one morning before practice. Just because.

The restroom door swings open and four girls walk out. One of them—

“Kimi.”

The name slips from your mouth before you even realize it. You want the earth to swallow you whole at this moment. For the current to drag you under. For the heavens to crack open.

The girl looks at you with wide eyes. Guilt, you can tell. Pity.

She says your name this time. “Hi,” she says a little nervously. “How are you?”

Just like Maki, her friends watch the situation unfold from a careful distance. Will one of you lunge at the other? Will you pretend to be the best of friends? Should they come closer? Should they stay back?

“I’m doing well,” you tell her. The voice that comes out of you doesn’t feel like your own. You only realize now that you’re smiling. There’s a hint of smugness to it, a hint of callousness, cruelty. “I take it you and Satoru are going strong.”

She seems to catch your tone. Unintentional of course, but she doesn’t know that. All trepidation seems to leave her body, replaced by a similar coldness. “Yeah, we are,” she says. “I hear you and Sukuna are an item now.”

You try not to cringe at the implication. You’ve traded Satoru, the golden boy, for Sukuna, the bad idea. No point regretting it now.

“Yeah,” you say. End this now, you think. “Well, Maki and I have a meeting to get back to.”

“Oh, sure,” she says sweetly, stepping out of your way. Her friends follow suit. “See you around.”

You take Maki’s hand and wave at the girl as she passes by. “See you.”

The two of you walk into the restroom and let the door close behind you. You’re looking at each other now, breathing deeply as you hear the girls outside walk away.

“That was fucking insane,” Maki finally says.

“Tell me about it.”

You both burst out laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation. It’s not a big deal, if you’re thinking logically, seeing your ex’s new girlfriend in a restroom. You all go to the same school, it’s not like you can avoid each other. Still, the whole thing brings out a viciousness in you that you can’t quite control, one that’s always ridiculous in hindsight.

You go into the bathroom stalls, still laughing.

“You were so cold,” Maki tells you from the stall beside you. “I was so proud, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“I was mean!” you exclaim. You groan as you reach for the toilet paper. “She’s so telling him about that.”

“No way. It’d be embarrassing.”

You pull your pants up and head out to wash your hands in the sink, waiting for Maki to finish. “She knows about Sukuna.”

“Yeah,” she says. “How do you feel about that?”

“Humiliated.”

She steps out of the stall and washes her hands in the sink beside yours. “You still think the whole pretend-dating thing is worth it?”

You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s done is done,” you tell her. “Sunk cost, baby.”

Maki dries her hand and looks at you seriously now. “Are you okay?”

Just because.

The words echo in your head. Words that have only ever been spoken to you now tainted by her voice.

“No,” you tell her. When she looks at you with furrowed brows, all you can do is shrug. “But I’ll have to be.”

notes. a little insight into reader's student life and bit of her bitchy side 👀 these chapters are getting longer than i'm used to lmao i fear the plot is getting away from me and just dragging me along for the ride at this point

[earlysunshines]

wishing on you

park jihyo x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: no matter what path is avoided, which turn is taken, it always leads the two you back to each other.

wc: 13.2k

warnings: alcohol ; cursing ; reader is part of twice ; men… ; kang daniel mentioned ; april's naeun mentioned ; jealousy!! ; pining!!! ; woooowww slowburn(?) ; lots of slowburn ; they're oblivious ; only half of it is proofread ; wtv else i didn’t mention

a/n: hey... sorry for the fake news, this is to make up for it. april fools!

you’re two raspberry beers in, there’s no way you’re backing down now, especially not with your stubborn attitude. jeongyeon pours you a shot of some strawberry soju and you gladly accept with a bright smile and loud chuckle. 

how could you not drink more, to be fair, you had just won another award for fancy, you deserved this. 

half the members are laughing as you drink more, you were always one to be a heavy weight anyway, always able to take twice as much as the members could. it was entertaining to see you down another two shots of that same soju, and even after all that, you still had room to have a bit of the makgeolli that nayeon had brought. 

it’s clear that the rice wine from the eldest is what fucked you over; the flush of crimson on your cheeks made it evident that you couldn’t think clearly anymore, so was the swarm of giggles that filled the air. the members—either drunk or on the verge of that—watched you, they cheered and laughed themselves, especially jeongyeon. 

jihyo simply rolled her eyes, taking another sip of the beer that she didn’t necessarily fancy. she watched half the members laugh along with you and placed her chin on her palm, her lips turning up into a soft smile. 

momo and nayeon argue about something dumb, then jeongyeon butts in and chaeyoung starts laughing until tears start to spill. out of nowhere, jihyo feels a weight on her shoulder, then turns to see you smiling and all flushed. 

your eyes seem like they’re sparkling, and maybe that’s the light reflecting off your eyes, or maybe it’s because the leader of your group is all you can see in your hazy state. maybe all of the above. 

“jihyo… you’re so pretty” it’s slurred coming from you, but the truth nonetheless. jihyo laughs at your statement and leans back against the wall behind you two. 

“and you— are drunk” she responds, “i’ve seen you drink a lot but this is… well, a lot” 

“i like… yes, strawberry.” you mutter against her, closing your eyes. “and you park jihyo!” you add with a giggle. 

“yeah… whatever you say.” jihyo responds hesitantly. the leader of your group giggles again, it’s the kind of giggle that brushes off a joke, but this isn’t a joke at all. you pout, then shake your head while closing your eyes unnecessarily tight.  

“you think i’m joking?” you ask, the tone of your voice sounding like you’re a kid that’s been declined candy. jihyo smiles weakly at your response. 

“you’re just drunk silly, let’s get you someplace else before you start saying things you don’t want to.” 

“hey… why don’t you believe me…” you sigh, lifting your head away from her shoulder and facing her fully. you place your hands on jihyos shoulders and firmly hold them, then affirm, “i like you, lots.”  

drunk words are sober thoughts. every word that spills from your lips is laced with the raw honesty of pent-up emotions that have been brewing inside you for years. from the moment you first laid eyes on her, you were captivated by her beauty. minute after minute, day after day, year after year, your admiration for her only deepened. you've become adept at concealing these feelings, but now, in your drunken state, all pretenses have fallen away, leaving you completely transparent and vulnerable.  

despite your best efforts to bury your emotions, they've finally bubbled to the surface, laid bare for all to see. but still, jihyo’s trying to figure out whether this is real or if the alcohol is making you say all this. 

jihyo chuckles nervously when your voice raises, afraid that you’ll draw attention from the rest—who, are all too invested in their bickering to even notice. 

“you’be been drinking quite a bit y/n, let’s get you someplace else.” jihyo says, smiling.  

she places a hand on your cheek, feeling the warmth of it leak into her own hand. jihyo takes her hand off and stands up, making you frown in the in process. 

“alright, i’m going to get going. i don’t want to drink too much, i’m already tipsy myself.” jihyo announces to the table, then looks down at you. “y/n here needs to go back to the dorms, i’m gonna take her back and take care of her before she goes ballistic.” she adds, giggling lightheartedly. 

the rest of the girls laugh, then nod before teasing you a bit. your arms find their way around jihyos torso, hugging onto her loosely as you try to comprehend the overwhelming environment. the world spins a little and you’re afraid to get up, scared that if you let go of jihyo, you’ll lose balance and fall. 

“please stay, don’t leave…” you say, clinging tighter.  

the leader of your group feels her cheeks warm up as you cling on, you’re not one to get too clingy, and even if you do, it’s rare— and reserved for your leader. 

as you follow her out the room, she holds the handbag that you entered the little gathering with, making sure it’s safe with her. 

jihyo’s hand is also holding yours, sending an electric, warm feeling throughout your body with each step you take out the building and towards the uber she had called. 

you get inside first, then jihyo follows and sits right down next to you. as soon as the door shuts, you’re quick to lean right into her again. it seems that being so close to her eases your overwhelmed, alcohol-infested senses. 

throughout the whole car ride to the dorms, you’re clinging to her and surprisingly silent, but your gaze is on her the entire time. jihyo shrinks in her place under your hazy look. 

jihyo helps you out the car and into your shared dorm; you cling onto her arm the whole time. she fumbles for her keys and manages to unlock the door, surprisingly. 

she helps you over to your room, walking past mina and nayeon’sj, then places you down on your bed, watching you lie down lazily before sighing. 

“what did i say about getting carried away.” she mutters, then walks over to your closet to grab a large hoodie of yours. she helps you put it on, given you’re probably not in the right mind to really do much on your own. 

when she slips it over you, the hood falls over your head, covering your eyes. jihyo chuckles softly before fixing it up so that your vision isn’t covered by the material, revealing your tired eyes. your gaze is fixed on her lips, almost glued to them, and your hands reach for her forearm. 

“you’re so pretty.” you mumble, making full eye contact with her now. “so pretty since i've laid eyes on you.” 

before jihyo can even process your words, she’s taken aback by your sudden movement, feeling the soft touch of your lips against the corner of her own. it's a gentle, innocent kiss, clearly not meant to be anything more—right? she feels you fall limp against her, your face falling to where the base of her neck meets her collarbone. as you rest against her, she can feel the weight of your body against hers, your arms loosely wrapping around her form. in your drowsy state, you pull her closer to you, causing her heart to quicken its pace.  

there's this weird feeling in jihyo’s heart that is amplified when you lazily mutter against her neck, still, she decides to ignore it. she doesn't feel like adding another weight to her shoulders, especially not when it involves you. 

- 

your head hurts like crazy as soon as you wake up, and you want nothing more than to fall right back asleep. you're wearing an old hoodie and the blanket you have on is wrapped messily on your body, limbs peaking out from the cloth. 

opening your eyes a little wider and scanning the environment, you take in your surroundings. you’re in the comfort of your own room, thankfully you made it out alive. 

trying to slow your actions to adjust to the hangover, you sit up slowly, but it makes your head ring even more. you groan as you lean against the headboard, trying to recollect yourself.  

in the corner of your eye, you notice a bottle of water and a packet of hangover pills. you reach for the water bottle, taking a small sip to quench your parched throat. the cool liquid soothes your dry mouth, prompting you to take a few more gulps in hopes of easing the pounding in your head. then you grab the packet of pills, but your hands fumble with the packaging, hindered by fatigue and grogginess. you let out a small, frustrated groan of annoyance before deciding to give up on the pills. with a sigh, you sink back into bed, curling up beneath the covers and closing your eyes once more, hoping to find some relief from whatever you had consumed carelessly the night before. 

the knock at your door disrupts your attempt at going back to sleep, making you grumble. you hear the sound of it opening and hide yourself in your sheets more, trying to make yourself invisible from whoever it is that’s in your room now. 

“hey, wake up.” jihyo says—you don’t respond or budge, instead grumbling again in response.  

jihyo frowns before sitting down next to you, placing her hand on your shoulder that’s covered by the blanket. she looks at the packet of pills she had put on your bedside the night before, shaking her head at how crinkled they looked from your failed attempts at opening them. 

“i bet you feel terrible, sit up and take the pills.” she reaches over to open the pills on the bedside table. 

you roll over and jihyo sees your puffy face, squinted eyes, and messy hair from rolling around while your hoodie was over your head. she laughs at the sight, then helps you sit up against the headboard. 

“how bad was it?” you ask, earning a tilted head from your leader. 

“what?” 

“did i do anything dumb?” 

jihyo ponders, deciding to not mention the memory of you almost kissing her completely on the lips. 

“no, you were just all tired and mopey.” jihyo teases, giggling. “you drank a lot.” 

“did you take me home? i can’t remember much but i remember your face from last night.” 

“yeah, i did.” 

“sorry for the trouble.”  

jihyo shakes her head at your apology, then hands you two pills and a water bottle. “just drink, breakfast is ready.” 

- 

something is off, something is very off.  

jihyo's been growing distant. initially subtle, it’s clear now that she's been withdrawing from you, and it's breaking your heart. you find yourself questioning whether it was something you said or did. up until now, everything seemed fine between you two, leaving you at a loss to pinpoint any specific reason for her sudden change in behavior.  

sharing a dorm with her only makes this worse. each interaction feels strained, despite her occasional smiles and giggles. it's clear that she's making an effort to keep things short and simple, adding to the discomfort and tension between you two. 

it's aggravating, the interviews and forced smiles, the way jihyo flees from your eye contact; everything kills you. the members don’t really notice, you’re still acting like evrything is alright – since it is with everyone but jihyo – and so is your leader. 

but sometihng is up, so you take matters into your own hands. 

- 

“mina.”  

“yes?” 

mina's laid down on her bed, the blanket enveloping her as she plays on her switch. she looks at you with a raised brow, curious as to why you’re in her room at this time. 

“did you need something?” she asks. 

“can i stay here for a bit?” 

mina hums, scooting over to give you space on the bed. she watches you sit down and put your face in your hands, groaning before you lay down flat on the bed. you take one of her pillows and hug it tightly before mina sits up to look at you. 

“alright, what’s going on?” she questions, “this isn’t like you. are you okay?” 

“i think jihyo hates me.” you sigh, hugging the pillow tighter. 

“what? why would jihyo hate you? you guys seem to be fine to me.” 

you sit up again, looking at her with a pout.  

“remember last month? that night after the awards we won? the night i got drunk?” you ask, mina nods and waits for you to continue. “well, i think something happened that night. jihyo's been distant ever since and— ugh, i just don’t know. i had to have done something.”  

“all i remember is you two going back early, nothing really happened but you were really clingy.” 

“like, how clingy?” 

mina turns away and ponders, making a little “hmm” noise.  

“i was completely sober, i remember seeing you cling onto her from the waist. your arms were wrapped around her waist, that’s all i remember. you were just really close to her, almost as clingy as sana is normally—without any alcohol in her system.” mina explains, shrugging. 

“is that why she’s been distant? because i've been clingy? that doesn't make any sense.” 

“you should talk to her.” mina suggests, “it’s the only way, and jihyo is understanding, it can’t be that bad.” 

you fall back onto the bed and groan, covering your face with your hands. mina places a hand on your shoulder and shoots you an apologetic smile.  

“what if she hates me and i only make it worse?” you mutter into your hands. 

“only one way to find out y/n.” 

-- 

after sulking in mina’s bed while she played her little game for an hour, you decided to get up and do something about the problem. mina gave you a little thumbs up before you left her room, wishing you the best and muttering a “close the door on the way out.” 

you've never been so scared in your life, even the sixteen elimnations didn’t make you this nervous.  

thinking to yourself for a moment you try to think of anything that could’ve happened that night. the lack of memory only adds to your anxiety, leaving you to question if you were too clingy or overly affectionate. did you say something that crossed the line? the uncertainty gnaws at you, and the only way to ease your worries is to talk to the worry. 

jihyo hears a knock at her door, brows creasing when she looks over at it.  

“come in.” she says, then she sees the woman who opens it, stiffening upon your arrival.  

“hey ji.”  

“y/n, hi.” she says, smiling at you. “did you need something?” 

“can we talk?” you close the door, “we should talk.” 

jihyo looks at your pleading eyes, then gives in. 

“yeah, okay.” 

you sit down on the chair in front of her bed, right in front of where she’s sitting. your posture is straight, jaw clenched, and fingers fidgety. shaking off your nerves, you begin to speak. 

“have you been avoiding me on purpose? i feel like you’ve been distant, things are different than before.” 

she looks down at her hands, then back at you.  

“it’s not that i want to, y/n. i really, truly love and adore you as a member. as a friend.” the way she says friend makes your heart sting a little, but it’s fine, as long as you don’t lose her. “do you remember anything from that night after the awards for fancy?” 

you pause.  

“um, only karaoke with the rest. anything after that i... i can’t remember. i’ve been trying to because you’ve been distant since that night, did i do something?” 

“y/n, i've been talking to someone.” jihyo starts, “i haven’t told the rest, but i plan to tell them when—or if things get serious with him.” 

him.  

“oh.” you simply respond. “is that why you’ve been distant?” 

“that night, y/n. i don’t mind, you know, when you’re clingy and affectionate. it's flattering and makes me laugh but, i've also been wanting to talk to you about something else.” you nod at her, continuing to listen closely. “you kept saying these things like i'm pretty and... you even said you—you liked me?” 

shit. you think, that’s all you can think of as soon as you hear it. of course, your crush on jihyo was there, but you pushed it down because hell, you were in the same group, you couldn’t let your stupid feelings get in the way. 

“is it true?” jihyo asks you, breaking you from your short trance. “y/n, do you like me?”   

“i mean, i used to, a lot. i mean i--” 

“y/n, do you or do you not like me. i'm talking about right now, and that night, because i don’t know about you, but even if you were drunk, you tried to kiss me—you did kiss me, on the corner of my lips. even sana hasn’t been like that with any of the members.” 

shit 

“oh, oh my god. i’m so sorry, i— i wasn’t in the right mind, i don’t even remember--” 

“it’s fine, but i'm just telling you this because you know, if you do like me and all that, it’s fine. we just—we can’t. look, you’ve been there for me all these years, we’ve been there for each other and i love you and appreciate you dearly, i do.” jihyo says, looking at you all stiff in your seat.  

you feel like crying, it makes no sense to but gosh is this whole thing grueling. yet, despite the turmoil, you're determined to find resolution and mend whatever rift has formed between you and jihyo. your hands shake from nervousness, jihyo notices and reaches out, placing her hands gently over yours. she knows how to calm you down, she’s a natural leader after all. 

“being with you, especially now—it’ll make things really complicated and difficult, and if things go wrong then our relationship with each other could affect twice you know? y/n, i care about you lots, and we need to keep this professional.” 

“yeah, i get that.” you say, relaxing just barely as her thumb grazes your knuckle. “i’m sorry for kissing you and making you uncomfortable, gosh, i'm an idiot. i'm really sorry.” 

“it’s fine y/n, i'm sorry for not addressing this. i should’ve said something sooner instead of not confronting you. let's always be true with each other from now on, yeah?” 

“yeah. thanks. i really want what we had—well, what we have to just be normal. i really love you and want the best for you.” 

“likewise.” jihyo agrees, smiling. she holds your hand, squeezing it lightly before getting up. “wanna go grab something to snack on? i'm hungry.” 

you laugh at her, easing the tension. “it’s like, eleven.” 

“you act like you didn’t sneak out at two in the morning when we were trainees, c’mon, you don’t want a little treat? the convenience store is right down the street~”  

you roll your eyes at her and stand up. “alright, let me get my coat. you're paying though.” 

- 

after clearing up things with jihyo, things seem to go back to normal.  

you two joke and laugh and have deep conversations as before, your feelings seem to die down too. along with this, she reveals more about the guy she’s talking to: kang daniel.  

he's also an idol, pretty well-known – though not nearly as much as jihyo – and it seems that he’s one to attract. but sitll, he appears to be just a regular guy, he’s really just a guy—there's not much to him. yet, learning more about him still stings a little, you know you could offer jihyo so much more. but your priority is her happiness, and as long as she's content, you're willing to set aside your own feelings. the agreement to maintain a professional and uncomplicated relationship remains intact, even though it tugs at your heartstrings to see her with someone else.  

you feel like you’re benched, relegated to the sidelines while watching your leader and daniel take center stage. there's an undeniable urge to be in the game, to replace him on the field. you can't shake the feeling that with you in the lineup, more points would be scored, the team would triumph, and everything would align perfectly. yet, for now, you're resigned to watch from the sidelines, silently yearning for your chance. 

this whole relationship screws you over, but you have other things to worry about while being an idol and friend to your other members. you can’t let him win, so you’ll pretend to be fine, even if it tears you apart in the slightest. 

you wonder if time with jihyo is worth it these days, what do you even gain out of it? 

- 

jihyo realizes she’s made a big mistake. 

her relationship with kang daniel is public now, but as soon as it’s revealed, there’s an uneasiness in her heart. 

this is all real, the public knows it, her members know it, and especially you.  

she spends more time with you and daniel simultaneously, but there’s this weird feeling when she’s with him. while in daniel's company, there's a strange tension that she can't quite shake off, but when she's with you? it's a different story altogether.  

she finds herself laughing more freely, smiling more genuinely, and experiencing an unprecedented sense of relaxation. just being around you feels effortless and natural, it reminds her how grateful she is with you. 

everytime she’s with daniel, part of her – all of her – is itching to get away and find herself back to you. she sees you in places and people she’s not with, it’s weird, it’s eating her up inside. 

as daniel sits next to her on his couch, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close, she can't help but feel a sense of disconnection. despite his attempts at intimacy, her thoughts are consumed by you. it's a strange sensation, one she can't quite shake off. the scent of daniel's cologne pales in comparison to the aroma of lavender and vanilla from the fragrance you use.  

and there he goes again, he starts to talk and it’s always about him, he never asks her about herself much. if jihyo’s ever talking about herself, it’s always her who initiates it. you were always one to ask about her day, how she’s doing, and you were simply attentive. daniel's rambles, words, and overall attempts at conversation these days—though well-intentioned, they fail to captivate her attention like yours do. she finds herself yearning for the moments when she can listen to your voice ramble on about anything and everything, or when she can ramble to you. 

 it feels like shes censoring or restraining a part of herself to daniel, but with you? it's the complete opposite. 

it's strange, the uncertain feeling isn’t something she experiences when she's with friends or group members. only in daniel's presence does she find herself immersed in thoughts of you.  

-- 

the preparation for more and more was rough on everyone, the choreo especially was difficult. 

the choreo was exhausting, tearing the members apart at times. still, as the group you are, you all managed to persevere. 

during one of the final dance practices, you catch from the corner of your eye jihyo leaning against the mirror, lips parted, hair sticking to her forehead, and staring into space daydreaming. she puts her head down for a moment before recollecting herself and standing back up, acting as if nothing had happened.  

she stands in front of the mirror and sips on her water, staring at herself for a bit. it seems like she has a lot on her mind. 

you walk over and put a hand on her shoulder, making her jump slightly before turning to you. 

“oh, y/n. you scared me!” she says, laughing lightly. “did you need something?” 

“you okay ji?” you ask her, “you looked really dead earlier.” 

your leader doesn’t answer, too distracted by how you look at her. as she observes you, she notices the intensity in your eyes, the sweat glistening on your face, and in that moment, she's struck by your beauty. despite being sweaty and exhausted from the physically demanding choreography, your concerned expression and the tone of your voice have her speechless.  

“hey,” you interupt her trance with your voice. using the small towel in your hand, you tap away at some of the sweat on her forehead. “you need to rest a bit more, take a longer break.” 

“oh, yeah, sure.” her response is rushed, it slips from her lips without her thinking.  

you pull out a water bottle and hand it to her, urging her to take a sip. “i think we’ve got it down pretty well, but it’s your call next time we run it again. take a break for now, i noticed you were fatigued during the dance break.” 

jihyo looks at you a bit more, head tilted up just a bit to meet you. she scans your face again, brows creasing just barely as she takes in your visuals. you raise a brow at her sudden look, tilting your head a bit. 

“yeah, you should definitely take a break.” you giggle, “you look so out of it.” 

jihyo finds her cheeks warming up, it’s not from being exhausted and sweaty, something else brings a rush of warmth. 

“sorry, just tired.” 

“yeah, okay.” you laugh, rubbing away the sweat on the side of her face now with the towel in your hand. “you look funny like that.” 

your leader watches you trudge away after the small interaction, perplexed at the sudden appeal in you. she's thinking about daniel, has he ever been that attentive? now that jihyo thinks about it, he’s never really done much about her stress or worries. he'd usually kiss her once and talk about himself in an attempt to distract her from her feelings. when you really take time to pay attention to her, it makes her feel all bubbly inside—daniel never evoked much of that.  

jihyo wonders what it would be like if you were in daniel’s place. 

“being with you, especially now—it’ll make things really complicated and difficult.” 

her own words ring in her head as she watches you sit down next to chaeyoung, leaning on her and pulling out your phone to scroll.  

jihyo feels conflicted, but there’s no time for that. especially not now, not when the comeback is soon. 

- 

you and your group situate yourselves for the inkigayo interview. minhyuk, jaehyun, and naeun are set to be the mc’s. 

everything goes as planned, they introduce themselves before twice does, overall, the interview goes just as it should, but something irks jihyo. 

the way you’re all situated makes it so that you stand next to naeun, who keeps glancing at you. jihyo can't shake the feeling of discomfort as she notices naeun’s behavior; the frequent glances, questions, and giggles directed at you make jihyo uneasy. the way you grow nervous and giggly in response to naeun’s attention strikes a nerve with jihyo, but she attempts to push down her weird feelings.  

there's a subtle tension building within jihyo, she tries to maintain her composure with nods and forced smiles. 

after the interview, all of you step out of the stage. the group gets together with the managers, but you’re pulled aside by naeun. 

about three members pay attention to the interaction: sana and nayeon, who are the ones that stand closest to you, and jihyo is eavesdropping, trying to subtly listen in. 

naeun tugs on the fabric of your top, earning your attention and a warm smile. 

“hi y/n, i’m a big fan of you—and your groups’ music.” she says, grin spread across her face.  

“oh, thank you so much.” you respond, bowing down slightly at her. 

“i was just wondering, um, i think you’re beautiful.” she says shyly, “and you seem sweet too. would it be alright if we exchanged numbers? i'd love to talk to you more.” 

your cheeks flush at the sudden question, you nod eagerly, nonetheless. naeun hands you her phone and you type your number in, making her smile brightly at you. you smile back the same. 

“thanks y/n, you’re cute. we should grab a coffee sometime?” 

“oh, yeah, i'd love that. sure, yes.” you answer.  

naeun smiles at you once more before waving and heading back to jaehyun. when you turn around, sana and nayeon are raising their brows at you teasingly.  

sana nudges your shoulder with hers and giggles, making an “ooo” sound. you roll your eyes at her, then nayeon joins in on the teasing. 

“oh she was totally hitting on you. look's like y/n has some admirers?” nayeon’s remark earns a wave of dismissal.  

“she probably just wanted to be friends and stuff, stop thinking so hard.” 

“or maybe you need to think harder. she called you beautiful and wants to take you out, basically.” hearing sana say that earns a dust of pink on your cheeks, you shove her playfully. “y/n is blushing~” 

“i’m not! stop that.” you groan, but the smile on your face makes it evident that the idea interests you. 

jihyo eyes the three of you bickering, a frown finding its way to her lips. could naeun really be asking you out? and you—are you really going to do it? the thoughts frustrate jihyo, she decides to turn away and focus on anything else, joining in on the maknae’s conversations. 

but the thought lingers in her mind: could you really be considering this? and why does it bother jihyo so much? 

- 

daniel invites jihyo over again and everything is the same as always. jihyo steps in and he kisses her as a greeting, jihyo kisses him back, placing a hand on his shoulder. she pulls away first, she always does. 

he suggests a movie and some snacks, to which jihyo responds with a “sure,” because she doesn’t know what else she could possibly do with him these days. he sits down on his couch, turns on the tv, and pats down a space for jihyo. it's weird, she doesn’t immediately lean into his touch, instead he initiates something and jihyo tends to reciprocate. 

daniel talks over the movie playing, something about the solo he’s working on and some recent schedule changes, but the woman in his arms isn’t listening. daniel frowns, bringing a hand to her cheek and turning her face so that she’s facing him. 

jihyo almost flinches, pulls away from his touch.  

(but she doesn’t, because what would that mean for them?) 

“you alright? is something on your mind?” he asks, snapping her back to reality. 

jihyo's eyes widen slightly, she eases away from his hand, then shakes her head. 

“oh, sorry, just... the recent comeback.” 

“ah, i see, i get it.” daniel says, giving her a little look of sympathy – jihyo can’t tell if it’s genuine, though. he smirks, the corner of his lip tugs up a bit, then suggests something as he puts a hand back on her cheek, “i know a way to get your mind off things, to get our minds out the gutter.” 

and just like almost every moment with him, jihyo finds his lips on hers. she reciprocates – hesitantly – then gives in. it’s slow and whatnot at first, then daniel starts to get bold and plays with the hem of her shirt. before he can get further, jihyo pulls away, her hand on his chest and eyes partially closed. 

“daniel i—um, we should take it slow. can we continue the movie?” 

he looks at her confused, then furrows his brows. “oh, okay?” 

daniel gets off of her and fights back a frown, but still, he settles by putting an arm back around her and pulling her close. the movie still plays, it’s not the most interesting but it’s better than anything with daniel. thirty minutes fly by and the movie still plays, though jihyo’s mind is elsewhere, probably thinking of you. when she turns to the left, she notices that daniel is asleep, almost too quickly despite what had just happened. 

jihyo shrinks away from him, she fights back tears, wanting to leave and return to the dorms—anyplace where you’re nearby.  

— 

a book is in your hand, you’re reading some novel that your friend had shipped from the states. thankfully, you could read more than just literature in korean, works in english are great.  

you're hunched over a bit, reading the book that sits under the glow of the lamp at your desk until you hear a knock. when you open the door, jihyo stands there, looking terrible.  

“jihyo? what are you—hey, are you okay?”  

she sighs, then looks at you pleadingly. you let her in with no questions asked, sitting down on your bed and patting down a space for her. she sits down next to you, leaning against your shoulder, a tear spills from her right eye. with your thumb, you rub it away, cupping her face gently. 

“do you want to talk about it?” 

“later.” 

“okay. do you want to stay here tonight?” 

... 

“yes.” 

“okay.” 

you turn off the lamp on your desk and place a bookmark in between the pages of your book, then close it. jihyo lies down first, and then you slip into the sheets no later.  

“come closer, please.” jihyo practically pleads, to which you respond with a hum. 

the two of you stare at each other, barely able to see each other in the dark, but still making out features and expressions. there's no words exchanged throughout any of it, jihyo just stares and stares until she puts a hand on your forearm. and then you feel that it’s right to dip a foot in the water, placing your hand above her waist and applying a little pressure to move her closer to you. jihyo scoots over a bit, then moves her hand over your body, pushign herself closer and into the crook of her neck. 

she feels herself relax in your presence, not wanting to let go or create more distance between the two of you. the warmth in her chest is completely foreign from whatever she feels around daniel, she wants to stay in this position with you forever, she’d much rather be like this with you than daniel.  

and then she hears you mutter a, “goodnight,” the tremor of your voice sending a shiver down her spine and making her feel all tingly. jihyo thinks that she could spend years in your embrace, just this moment alone makes her think that all that time with daniel was a waste if she had the ability to just barge into your room and stay close. 

— 

when jihyo wakes up, she catches you applying a light layer of makeup. you're focused on the mirror, attentive to the detail. 

she watches you for a moment more and decides to sit up when you rummage for some jewelry in your drawer. you catch her in the corner of your eye and turn to her, smiling. 

“good morning.” 

“are you headed somewhere?” jihyo asks, because it’s only eight thirty in the morning when she checks her phone and you’re already up and running, despite having nothing on your schedules. 

“remember naeun? she invited me out for breakfast, then we were going to... i don’t know, just spend until the afternoon together.” jihyo might cry, she feels her heart sink at your words. 

you look beautiful, and the thought of naeun seeing you like this, spending time with you, making you laugh? it strikes something in the leader. she watches you put on a necklace, silently processing everything. too many possibilities and worries run through jihyo’s head. you've just held her in your arms, comforted her and slept in the same bed with her, practically tangled together—and now, you’re going on a little date. 

“hey, you alright? you look like you’re in a daze.” you say, looking at jihyo curiously. 

“sorry, just tired still.” 

“then you should sleep more.” you suggest, “sleep in, you can stay in my bed.” 

“when are you going out with naeun?” 

“soon, like basically now—oh, did you want to talk about what was troubling you? i’ll postpone or cancel if you--” 

“no, no.” jihyo says. she shakes her head and purses her lips. “go have fun, i'm just going to sleep a little more.” 

you examine her a little, narrowing your eyes at the woman in your bed and trying to pinpoint any hint of, well, anything. you can’t really pick out what’s going on or what might be troubling her, so you decide to let it go for now. 

“let me know if you need anything, okay? i’ll respond right away.” your response kills her inside, knowing that you’re out of reach, despite your words, and who else is she supposed to tell about her troubles? how she felt about daniel and you; she can’t even figure out her own feelings. 

you sit down on the bed and brush a strand of hair back, fixing her tousled hair. your eyes go from her eyes to her lips, then to her hand that you now hold. you squeeze lightly, then look her in the eye again. 

“i’ll be back in the afternoon, okay? let me know if you need anything. just because you’re the leader doesn’t mean you don’t have your own feelings. text me, love you.” 

jihyo gulps, and when you let go of her hand, she fights the instinct to reach back for yours. 

- 

naeun shows up wearing her hair up in a ponytail. she has on a long black coat over her white top, beige slacks, and whtie sneakers. she's pretty, there’s no doubt. 

breakfast with her goes smoothly. you order fluffy pancakes with fruit, a simple latte, and indulge in two pieces of dark chocolate on the side. naeun opts for two pieces of french toast, a side of fruit, and a cup of tea. as you engage in small talk, you find her anecdotes and jokes genuinely amusing, often catching yourself covering your mouth to stifle laughter. her occasional flirtatious remarks elicit smiles from you, though you can't help but notice a slight detachment from the warmth you'd normally feel in such situations—but at the same time, this is your first... date?  

the two of you walk down the streets and find yourself in alleyways, simply talking and taking a few pictures here and there. time with her is nice, but it’s weird feeling so... normal with her. your heart doesn’t do flips, you’re not blushing as much as you figured you would, and it feels like you’re hanging out with a friend rather than on a date. maybe that’s what this is. 

naeun calls a ride around noon, saying something is on her schedule at two. you nod, understanding her reason of departure. she smiles at you, you smile back, and then she furrows her brows a bit, still grinning. 

  “i spotted some cameras around us, we’ll probably be on some headlines.” she says, fixing her bangs absentmindedly. “i’d kiss you if they weren’t here, you look adorable right now.” 

maybe it was a date. 

you smile shyly, feeling your face burn at the bold statement. “probably, that’s fine though. and thank you.” 

she laughs softly and it has a nice ring to it. “let’s see each other again sometime, i enjoyed this.” 

“me too.” 

“i’ll see you, y/n.” 

“yeah, see you.” 

when she gets into the car, you wave at her, then immediately, your attention is back on your phone. jihyo had lingered in the back of your mind the whole date, you figure it’s because she seemed to have a hard time earlier. there are no new messages other than a text from your mom, a few notifications from the group chat with your members, and texts from naeun that you never got to read—she found you right after she texted anyway, there was no need to respond. 

nothing from jihyo, unfortunately. you find it strange that you went all this time (three hours) without hearing a single thing from her. it makes you frown slightly, but you shake it off for the time being and call a ride back to the dorms. 

- 

when you get back to the dorms, jihyo isn’t there. you're dissapointed after hearing mina tell you that she’s out for lunch with daniel, jihyo never told you she’d be out for lunch.  

mina eyes you while you take off your jacket. “you were out on a date?”  

“how’d you know?”  

“little article or something that nayeon sent to the group chat, ‘april’s naeun and twice’s y/n spotted grabbing brunch together.’” she says, reading off her phone. “nayeon and sana were teasing you as well.” 

you sigh. “of course they were.”  

“well, did you have fun?” mina asks you, raising a brow. “do you like her?” 

it takes you a moment to respond, you have to think about it. 

“she’s nice.” 

“so you like her...?” 

“maybe. i guess we’ll have to go out more to figure that out.” 

“hm.” she looks at you, it seems that she’s trying to figure out something. “okay.” 

you don’t question the uncertainty in her look; instead, you walk over to your room, deciding to lie down and reenergize.  

-- 

as your outings with naeun become more frequent, you find yourself with fewer opportunities to engage in meaningful conversations with jihyo, or anything jihyo related. likewise, jihyo's increased outings with daniel and her focus on work leave her with little time to dwell on the uneasy feeling in her chest whenever she sees another headline about you and naeun. it's not like you two are public about your relationship, of course you weren’t, the media would be at your throats. but still, your members know, and if jihyo knew you’d feel a little guilty. 

(you don’t know why, but that’s how you think.) 

the next comeback takes your attention away from a lot of things, takes your energy away, takes time away from only the two of you – you and jihyo – not anyone else. 

the distance between you and jihyo seems to grow with each passing day, overshadowed by the presence of others in your lives. there's a weird gap between you two, you seem to talk to anyone but each other these days. 

-- 

[1:05am]  

you: are you awake? 

jihyo looks at her phone after it buzzes, wondering who could possibly be texting her at this hour. she’s in the living room watching some movie, the tv there is better than her laptop. she picks up her phone, looking at your contact and the contact photo of you that she had set – a picture of you before blowing out candles on your first birthday while in twice – then responds. 

[1:07am] 

jihyo: yes 

you: what are you doing? 

jihyo: on the couch watching a movie, why are you up? 

you: just not tired. had an americano earlier. 

part of you wants to mention that it was when you were with naeun, but you decide to leave it out. you don’t like to mention naeun really, not with jihyo at least. you don’t really know why, but it feels right not to. 

you: can i join? 

jihyo stares at the phone for a bit, she wouldn’t mind your company, if anything—it's been a while since the two of you have been alone. 

jihyo: come. 

you smile at your phone, you don’t usually smile at messages. 

jihyo looks away from the tv once she spots you, you’re dressed in an oversized hoodie and shorts that cut off five or six centimeters above your knee. a smile is thrown her way and that same smile tugs at the leaders' lips.  

you settle down next to her, a small, evident space in between that neither of you want there. jihyo continues the movie, pressing the “play” button and you sink back a bit, moving your hips up and lounging against the cushion. your body moves a bit when you do so, in a way that makes it so that your shoulders are touching. the small detail makes both of you concentrate on the movie more than necessary. 

a few minutes pass, then you decide that’s enough silence. your turn your head and ask, “how have you been?” it’s a simple question, really, but it still catches jihyo off guard. 

“good, you?” 

“i’m good.” you answer, and then you look at her for a moment more. “how are things with daniel?” 

jihyo tenses up a bit, the last thing she wants to think about is him. “alright. what about you and naeun?” 

“oh, yeah we’re alright.” 

the two of you stare at each other for a bit, unsure of what to say for a bit. 

your head falls to the cushion of the couch, you lean against it, keeping eye contact with jihyo before your gaze softens.  

“are we okay?”  

“what do you mean y/n?” 

“i just, miss talking to you. it feels like forever since we’ve been... alone.”  

she chuckles nervously. “i mean, i guess. the comeback has been... tiring. i'm glad we have this day off. plus, we’ve been spending time with... well, you know, our...” she wants to say lovers, but it throws her off. is lover the right word for daniel? boyfriend is, maybe, but that’s just a label. still, she doesn’t want to say that. 

"yeah," you respond, the word heavy with a tinge of disappointment. and then you stare hard at jihyo, studying her under the soft glow of the living room lights. you take in every detail—the gentle curve and sparkle of her eyes under the dimmed lights, the natural beauty of her bare face—and commit it to memory, because who knows when you’ll have time to look at her like this again. 

you realize that wow, you’ve missed this view – her, park jihyo – and part of you feels bad because you and your girlfriend naeun have spent so much time together lately, yet nothing about naeun makes you pause in place like this. your brain is tangled in a knot, you don’t know why. 

“you look really good with the red hair.” your voice is soft, it’s gentle. “you look beautiful with anything.” 

as the memory of you drunkenly complimenting her flashes through her mind, jihyo experiences a sense of déjà vu. this time you're sober, and the words you speak hold genuine sincerity.  

“thanks.” her tone appreciative. she leans into the cushion, and now your heads are at the same level, the eye contact much more... intense.  

jihyo doesn’t say half of what she’s thinking. you look great too, you always look astonishing. your current hairstyle, particularly the shorter, dark hair from this comeback, suits you remarkably well. the way the stylists style your hair, you, and just everything, jihyo tries not to stare too hard during rehearsals and filming. and now, god, especially now, now with your slightly disheveled hair, your sleepy eyes, bare face and leisured look. now with that voice of yours coaxing her to relaxation; you’re as captivating as ever. 

she feels her voice grow fainter as she answers, “you look pretty too.” 

“thanks miss leader.” you mutter lowly, which earns a giggle from the two of you. the little remark earns a dying tension that was in the air, and now your shoulders are fully touching after you scoot closer.  

your arms are linked after you make the bold move, excusing the action with an “i’m cold,” but there’s no need for an excuse because jihyo’s fine with it. if anything, jihyo’s glad that you’re all touchy like this (even if it’s just a linked arm). 

the movie that’s playing has already been ignored, acting as background noise as the two of you converse about who knows what. the only thing that matters is that you’re giggling like you used to, your cheeks are warm, and you’re starting to get a little sleepy.  

when your words start to slur, jihyo shortens her answers and talks a little less, watching as your head falls to her shoulder and feeling you shuffle into a more comfortable position. when you fall asleep jihyo doesn’t budge, instead glancing at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world and— 

it hits jihyo. there’s a striking, obvious reason that she feels the way she does towards you, why she’s been distant and hesitant with her interactions. never has her heart felt this warm or right with daniel.  

her brows crease a little when she realizes, but for now, you’re asleep and content, so maybe she should be too instead of adding another worry on top of the comeback. 

besides, she’s comfy right there with you, and you’re clearly feeling the same.  

she closes her eyes, sighing quietly, allowing one of your arms to slip behind her back and the other over her lap so you can loosely wrap around her waist. her head gently falls to rest against yours, and soon she's fast asleep, one hand nestled in your hair while the other rests against your forearm. in this peaceful moment, she finds solace in your presence, feeling content for the first time in a while. 

- 

nayeon is still tired when she walks into the living room, but the sight of your arms lazily wrapped around jihyo’s waist, your legs messily laid out on the couch, and jihyo laid down at an awkward angle seems to wake the older member up. 

taking her phone out, she giggles, then snaps a picture that’ll be used against the two of you in the groupchat. 

(and little do you know, when both of you wake up to see the picture that’s sent, you’ll save it even if you act annoyed, both of you adding it to your favorites without letting anyone know.) 

- 

the comeback takes up all your time and energy, having to wake up for the pre recordings, interviews, and then trying to go about your day normally like you’re not about to pass out any moment takes a toll on you.  

you've been seeing naeun for a couple of months now, of course you enjoyed spending time with her and whatnot, but when you kissed her, touched her intimately those few times or did anything romantic? it just felt... off. you didn’t mind, you’d initiate some of it, but that didn’t get rid of the fact that something was missing.  

there was the thought of jihyo doing these things with you, and you had to shake your head to get rid of that thought. jihyo doesn’t like you, not like that, and she’s with daniel. she’s probably on cloud nine with him, maybe all sappy and romantic, happy. the though of him making her feel like that makes you frown. you felt terrible when you thought like this, of jihyo – so you felt terrible most of the time – because naeun was with you, and she should be enough. she is enough, but that didn’t stop you from wishing she were jihyo sometimes. 

(all the time.) 

spending time with naeun takes a lot too, and you’re much more cranky, less talkative, and just being around her feels like it’s hurting both of you. there’s no spark anymore, even when you kiss her or when she kisses you. making out with her feels like a chore because there’s worries in the back of your mind and stress piling up. your troubles take a toll, it goes on for almost a month before naeun decides to leave what you two have as just friends. you agree without hesitation, realizing it’s the best for both of you, but you wonder why you’re not as... emotional. 

in return, jihyo knew her schedule would take the time with daniel away from her – not that she minded – which led her to make the same decision that naeun had made (but with daniel, of course. if she were with you, what could possibly lead her to break things off with you? who would ever do that?) 

when she unties the knot with daniel, it’s like a weight is lifted of her shoulders, and now the comeback doesn’t seem half as bad, it’s almost as if daniel were the reason she’s been so uptight and stressed. jihyo thinks that can’t be because—well, the person you’re with shouldn’t make you feel like that, they should make you feel relaxed and bubbly and sappy and as if your head is in the clouds. 

and that’s exactly how she feels when she gets those small moments alone with you.  

both of you are aware of the realization, yet neither wants to confront it directly, opting instead to push the mutual feelings aside.  

it lingers between you, unspoken yet palpable, as you both silently grapple with its implications, unwilling to acknowledge its weight. 

“it’ll make things really complicated and difficult, and if things go wrong then our relationship with each other could affect twice you know?”  

-- 

for the next couple of months until your next comeback, your relationship with your leader seems to creep back to its normal self.  

with the other members you’re found inching closer to the leader, it’s honestly not on purpose but by default. it just happens. 

then there’s those times where you’re alone, giggling and talking like nothing matters, like life as an idol is a breeze because really, it is when you have someone like jihyo by your side. someone you can reveal your deepest worries to, somone you can talk to without judgement, just someone you can lean on. jihyo is exactly that. 

of course the members notice, but that could just be another mina and chaeyoung situation, where you’re both close and that’s it. of course, there’s much more than just being close, hell, mina and chaeyoung are more than close these days – you’ve caught them being a little too touchy and affectionate for it to be something that’s just friends – but that’s just how they are. you and jihyo on the other hand, that’s a different case, but everyone is too occupied to really look into it, so the two of you continue to be close, closer than ever without thinking much of it. afraid to think more about what it is. 

alone time with jihyo becomes more frequent, including outings that used to be with naeun, dinner that used to be with naeun, laying in bed that used to be with naeun and... well, everything that used to be done with naeun. except each time it feels much more rewarding and tender.  

your heart does more flips than it ever did with naeun, and jihyo could say the same in regard to daniel. 

-- 

“alcohol free” is a hit, there’s no doubt about that. when there’s a hit, there's wins, and when there are wins, there is a night of celebrating. 

(karaoke for hours, drinks, more drinks, and even mrore, and then meaningless laughs and conversations between you and your members.) 

jihyo sits next to you with her second beer of the night, she can feel herself growing loose and looser. you’re still on your first beer, despite it being half full, you’re eyeing the soju on the table.  

mina's the only one not drinking, while tzuyu takes just a few sips before passing her strawberry-flavored beer to you, her eyes wary of getting too tipsy. jeongyeon, already pretty drunk, leans heavily on momo, slurring random words. everyone seems to be on their way to wasted, or simply having a great time. 

you turn to the left to see jihyo laughing away, about what? who knows. all you know is that she looks effortlessly pretty, smile lighting up the room and eyes all squinty in a way that makes your heart ache, yearn, scream, all of the above. you think that she’s looked the best this comeback (you always think that with each comeback); her cheeks are a little sun kissed from filming the music video, she seems brighter, and especially with her mid length hair, the way it frames her face so nicely, you could kiss her, maybe just a press to her cheek, and if she lets you, maybe a little more— 

nope. you can’t do that. you stop yourself from thinking further. you turn away, cheeks burning from something else that’s not alcohol, something that you don’t want to acknowledge. 

there’s the sinking feeling in your chest and now you’re a little scared that what you’ve had to drink will amplify it – it basically already has – so you slow down a bit, trying to get down from that temporary high. the pit in your stomach gets worse when you glance back at jihyo, who’s already looking at you with stars in her eyes.  

your skin tanned during the shoot, drawing some flak from a handful of netizens, but also garnering heaps of adoring, and a couple suggestive comments from others online. jihyo understands the appeal when looking at you, the tanned skin, nice features, and the dark, wavy, long hair that you’re pulling off for this album. of course, jihyo loves tzuyu, adores her really, and cares for the youngest, yet, whenever she glances your way, she can't help but think you'd fit the "visual" title just as well. maybe even better. 

she leans over a bit, just enough so that her lips graze your ear before she says, “you look cute, y/n.” 

“oh, thank you.” a giggle is added to mask the uneasiness in you before you distance yourself a bit. “i don’t feel the best, i think i might head back earlier.” 

“so soon?” she tugs at your arm, pouting. “what am i supposed to do without you here?” 

don't say that. 

you grin, it’s forced. “c’mon, you’ll be fine without me. you look like you’re having fun already.” 

“only because you’re here.” her words are a little slurred. “you make everything so... nice. yeah, that’s right, that’s the word.” 

“well, i'm glad—but i really am tired. i gotta go, you have fun okay? just think of me and... things will be nice. you're not very alcohol free.” the stupid joke is followed by a giggle, and despite how corny it is – usually jihyo would punch you lightly and roll her eyes – jihyo feels like she’s just been punched in the gut. 

you stand up and jihyo fights back the urge to pull you back, maybe into her, just close, that’s all she knows. the space next to her feels cold now, and the room feels darker as soon as you say your goodbyes. jihyo thinks it can’t get any worse, but then you move over so your lips are centimeters away from her ear, muttering a “think of me, i'll be at home” which definitely amplifies the ache in her heart. 

home, that’s where jihyo wants to be as soon as you leave the room. she wants to be with you, maybe that’s what—or who home is. 

when you get into your cab, you can’t help but think abotu jihyo more. the hurt in her face as you left, and the thought that she might like you too crosses your mind, but that can’t be, she rejected you a few years ago.  

there's still that chance that her feelings changed, just maybe she feels even the slight attraction you feel with her. your feelings never really died down, adn you realize that maybe it was wrong to get into a relationship with naeun while your feelings for jihyo were still under the surface. 

after you shower and get ready for bed – mind in a flurry the whole time – you’re bascially completely sober. you're still alone in the dorm, opting to try to organize your thoughts and conflicted feelings until you get a little notifcation on your phone.  

you reach over, squinting at the screen. 

[12:00am] 

jihyo: i wish you would’ve stayed. miss you. 

... 

[1:30am] 

y/n: miss you too. 

-- 

jihyo’s flustered and nervous, cursing at herself and practically pulling her hair out as soon as she reads the text she sent. she's at your door before you even wake up the next morning to apologize to your half-asleep self. you wave her off and mutter a sleepy “it’s fine, really,” which soothes her.  

the two of you pretend that night never happened after the apology, and then for the next year you run in circles. run around your feelings, run away from them. it's better, less complicated. 

-- 

when the two of you manage to finally come to a point in your lives where the mutual feeling isn’t eating you two up, something else decides to swoop in and bring you back to square one. 

“dates?” nayeon laughs a little. “like, wine and dine? or...” 

you laugh too because, what, a date? a vlog of... a date with one of your members. it sounds silly, but also fun at the same time. you're already on board to this “2wice date” idea that the director had suggested, and it’s one of those things that makes your job much more amusing. 

the rest of the members seem to be on board, and then you’re given the pairings, which renders you stiff in your seat. 

“nayeon and tzuyu,” the director says, making the rest of the member's giggle. the oldest and the youngest, that would be fun to watch, fun to poke at and think about. 

“mina and chaeyoung,” well, they’ve already been on dates, practically (probably) already a couple whether they know it or not. you watch chaeyoung smile like a little kid, a smile taking over. mina looks at her and a small smile tugs at her lips too. you only poke at chaeyoung. 

“sana and momo.” alright, that would obviously go fine, they’re already attached to the hip anyway and— 

the realization hits you: there’s only one pairing left. all the others are paired up, leaving you and jihyo. 

jihyo's gaze lingers on you, and for half a second you catch her eyes widening in realization before she quickly composes herself. meanwhile, you're doing your utmost to keep it together. just when you believed you had moved on from her, or at least accepted that it wasn't going to happen, all those emotions come rushing back. you're certain this revelation will keep you tossing and turning at night until the date finally arrives. 

the idea of going on a real date with her feels like cupid taking aim at your heart—but not in the traditional romantic sense. it's more like cupid wielding a gun instead of a bow, the bullet tearing your heart wide open. yeah, that's a better comparison. 

the members tease each other after everything, but out of all the pairings it’s you and jihyo who get poked at the most. you feel like your heart might burst, and jihyo feels the same. 

-- 

both of you sit on jihyo’s bed for a bit, trying to think of an idea for your date. neither of you want to admit it, but you’re both equally as giddy for this little episode. 

jihyo suggests going for a drive, some coffee, and then a garden. it seems romantic, so romantic that you wonder if it’s alright taking on this whole thing. 

“that sounds great.” you end up responding, smiling at jihyo as you say it. she purses her lips together and forms something that’s also a smile, the two of you laugh for no reason and a little spark starts a flame in your heart. 

-- 

the cameras roll, it’s time to act like you’re not about to lose your mind. you're officially on this date with the prettiest, most charming woman you know, right as that recording button had been pressed. 

“alright, let’s go for a drive.” and with that you follow jihyo, getting into the white car on the passengers side. 

you observe jihyo starting the car, paying no mind to the managers awkwardly third-wheeling in the backseat. she shoots you a smile, and all you can do is laugh, raising the camera in your hand and pointing it at her as she maneuvers out of the parking spot and hits the road. 

the car ride remains eerily quiet for a significant stretch because you simply can’t stop looking at her. jihyo doesn't seem to mind much (although deep down she does, but with cameras rolling, she has to keep her cool), and she keeps the conversation flowing, steering it towards simple, everyday topics. you manage to slip in brief responses while your eyes drink in the contours of her side profile, her beauty laid bare before you. 

“y/n, you and i. we used to spend so much time together, alone.” the sudden switch from teasing nayeon and tzuyu’s date catches you off guard. 

“yeah, especially before alcohol free, we still spend time together, no?” 

“you’ve been straying away from me these days.” of course she’s saying it jokingly, but deep down you both know that there’s a small rift starting to form as you try to run away from your feelings. “do you remember what we’d do?” 

looking out the window, you nod and say, “yeah, i remember we’d watch a lot of your shows. i never was a big movie or show person, but jihyo always managed to have me finishing multiple series’ and movies in a week.”  

the two of you giggle. “you enjoyed them though.” 

“some. you've made me sit through questionable things. it was always late at night though and i knew you had issues with sleeping, so i always said yes because i just wanted you to be well rested.” 

a small silence envelops the air before jihyo breaks it. 

“wow,” she turns to you since the light is red, her eyes appreciative. “thank you.” 

“anything for twice’s leader.” your words manage to break the ice. 

when you two get to the cafe, jihyo links her arms with yours and you almost drop the tripod holding the camera. 

your cheeks flush as you place your order, and then jihyo steps in, graciously paying for both of you with the corporate card, causing your blush to deepen. thankfully, you're wearing a mask; otherwise, fans would have a field day with this. they'd find a way to capture your flustered moments regardless, probably compiling them into a youtube compilation. 

there's a little outside area of the cafe, so of course, the two of you find your way out there.  

“it’s so pretty outside, but my date is prettier.” jihyo says to the camera, making you push her gently. 

“oh god, you’re being quite the romantic.” 

“why wouldn’t i my love?” jihyo teases, using the pet name that makes you cringe inwardly. but deep down, you can't deny that a part of you secretly adores it, even though you all pretend to be grossed out by it when the cameras are rolling. 

you roll your eyes before posing on a bench for jihyo, laughing at the way she positions herself in order to get a perfect angle of you. 

(jihyo thinks that every angle of you is more than perfect.) 

after jihyo finishes snapping pictures and showering you with compliments as if she's actually your girlfriend—though she isn't, and you have to constantly remind yourself that this is all for the sake of that little date episode—you switch roles. now, you're the one capturing moments, aiming your camera at her. you're in awe, wanting to preserve each shot you take on your little film camera, each one is worthy of being framed in a museum.  

“you’re beautiful,” you accidentally say out loud, which makes jihyo blush in return. there's no chance that’s getting cut out. 

and then you’re back in the car, but before you walked over you made sure your arms were linked, locking them tightly as if she’ll float away. jihyo gets into the driver's side and you make a small comment about being her passenger princess. 

“passenger princess?” 

“it’s a funny little thing, never heard of it?” 

"you can be a princess all the time, not just when you're my passenger, my love," jihyo says, but immediately cringes as the words leave her mouth—not because she dislikes the term of endearment, but because it feels a bit too intimate in front of the cameras. then, the two of you burst into laughter, as if it were the funniest thing in the world. you figure the more she says “my love” the more you’ll get used to it, maybe even crave hearing it when the cameras aren’t rolling and in your dorms, as normal. 

the final destination is some water garden, it’s beautiful out. the two of you find a little table to sit on and decide to have a deeper conversation there. 

your heart does a flip, a tumble, and almost beats out your chest when jihyo says, “i’ve always been really captivated by you.” 

“what?” 

“i’m serious. i mean, all of twice, they’re all special to me, but you’ve always stood out, especially these days.” 

“yeah?” 

“yeah.” jihyo affirms. 

you flash her a grin, then quickly turn away, attempting to compose yourself. deep down, you know the editors will have a field day with how much of a nervous wreck you are, but you try not to let it show. 

“you’re one of the prettiest people i've laid eyes on, you know? ever since i first met you on sixteen.” you admit suddenly, looking down. “everything about you has caught my attention since then, you’ve only grown brighter these days.” 

“is that so?” 

you nod. “i mean, everyone has been brighter. these days, everyone seems to be close and happy, i'm glad.” you pause, and jihyo waits for you to continue. “i’m just really glad we’re happy these days. i've done everything i can to keep everything from being complicated.” 

the realization hits, she makes complete eye contact with you as you say it. your eyes stare hard into hers, like daggers pointing at her. and then you look down again, playing with your hands. 

"sometimes, i don't know, i feel a little overwhelmed with how i feel and everything, but after spending time with you like this," your words now directed solely at jihyo, a shift she can clearly sense as her heart tightens. "i start to think that maybe... maybe it's okay if things are complicated. because we've dealt with complicated stuff before and managed to work through it. but sometimes i still avoid things and it makes the feelings worse. sometimes, you have to complicate things to reach an outcome that'll make everything alright. i think about that a lot, but i'm not sure if i'm wording it right. i think i want to complicate things now that i think about it.” 

you're not sure if any of what you're saying will make the final cut, and even if it does, the viewers might not grasp the real meaning. but as jihyo's eyes soften while she looks at you, you find yourself locking eyes with her again. there's a silent understanding passing between you, and suddenly, your words seem to resonate on a deeper level, shifting the atmosphere. jihyo understands, and in that moment, it's as if her heart breaks free from its constraints. 

“i think you’re right y/n. maybe complicating things is worth the trouble.” 

“yeah.” is all you can say.  

a brief silence settles, but it's far from uncomfortable. you share a smile with jihyo, and a few seconds pass before the two of you effortlessly shift the conversation back to discussing your fellow members and how both of you have grown over time. 

in that lingering silence, there's a final understanding, unspoken yet palpable. you realize that this moment, right here, is probably the most content you've felt in a while. and judging by the serene expression on jihyo's face, she feels the same way too.  

minutes later, you snap the final pictures, finding a swinging seat by the water to settle on. jihyo leans against your shoulder, and a sense of warmth and contentment washes over you. as the managers stand in front of the two of you, holding your film camera and waiting for a pose, jihyo moves away slightly and then leans her head back against you. with a soft smile, she puts up a little peace sign, and you instinctively mirror her gesture as your heads gently touch. 

a rush of confidence floods through you, emboldening your actions. you turn your head slightly so you can whisper into jihyo's ear, "can i kiss you? on the cheek." 

she turns to you in surprise, her face almost meeting yours due to the proximity, then nods with a slight flush on her face. "yes, of course you can." 

for the next picture, your lips gently land on jihyo's cheek, your hand instinctively cupping the other side of her face to draw her closer. jihyo smiles big, the happiness evident in her expression and pink cheeks. there's no doubt that once this picture is developed, the two of you will spend a good amount of time gazing at it, admiring the moment captured on film. 

“i’m happy we got paired.” you admit, the camera capturing your words. 

“me too, i'm really glad.” jihyo responds 

-- 

you and jihyo don’t talk much after the date, when you reach the dorms, jihyo is afraid to say anything really. this is the first time she’s had to think so much about, well, the two of you for the first time in a while. 

“that was a lot of fun.” you simply say trying to ease the tension. “it was lovely.” 

“i liked it a lot.” 

you nod, and look at her, searching in her eyes for something. “are you okay?” 

“i’m fine, y/n.” her tone is unsure, a little apprehensive. 

“right, okay.” you narrow your eyes at her, then sigh. “i’ll be in my room, if you... need anything.” 

jihyo doesn’t utter a word, instead she lets you walk away, watching you turn back to meet her as you step inside. 

a wave of emotions crashes over you, and a part of you—perhaps all of you—wants to cry. the date wasn't bad, but now everything feels... strange. it's not uncomfortable, but you can't shake the feeling that maybe jihyo didn't quite understand what you were trying to say during your ramblings. maybe she was just being polite, playing along, and she'll give you a gentle talk later. 

flopping onto your bed, you close your eyes and rub your face with your hands, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. you resist the urge to tear your hair out, but the turmoil inside you remains, leaving you feeling lost and unsure of what comes next. what could possibly happen after this? after acknowledging years of these unspoken feelings, you really can’t pinpoint a— 

you shoot up from your bed at the sound of a knock on your door. you quickly run through the possibilities—nayeon is out with momo, and tzuyu has a shoot—leaving you with one answer. 

it's jihyo, it’s definitely jihyo.  

unsure why, you’re a bit scared. she's at your door waiting, all you have to do is open it and figure out what might happen next. the anticipation grills you. 

you open it, looking down a bit to see jihyo. 

“y/n.” 

“hey, are you—” 

“i can’t keep doing this anymore.” she says, looking and sounding conflicted. “after today i realized that, i don’t know, i really love you.” she pauses, waiting for you to say something, anything. when you don’t, she continues. “all these years, i was a fool for saying all that, you know, the professionalism and complications. i realize now that it only made things worse and, gosh, years, years, i've been fighting back how i felt about you. how i still feel about you and, this whole date thing—y/n, i can’t imagine waiting any longer or fighting back anything any longer.” 

everything that jihyo says seems like a fever dream, part of you doesn’t believe she’s saying all of this. you're frozen in place, staring at her with your jaw dropped a little, wanting to say something, anything, but you can’t. 

“please say something, i know you felt this way about me initially and--” 

“kiss me.” you interject, shakign your head in disbelief. “just--” 

jihyo doesn’t wait for another word from you. in an instant, she closes the distance between you, and oh my god, her lips are soft, she's perfect. it's surreal— you're kissing park jihyo, the culmination of years of inner turmoil, fighting against your own desires. everything you've daydreamed of and hoped for is finally happening, and it's even more incredible than you imagined. it's all so right. 

you close your eyes tight, afraid that if you open them she’ll be gone and this will all unfold into a dream. but you feel her hands on your cheek and it proves that yeah, this is all real. you can’t help but smile, jihyo feels it as you kiss her. she feels herself smiling against you too. 

stumbling back a little, jihyo closes the door behind the two of you before you both fall backwards onto your bed. she pulls away from the kiss to catch her breath properly, and you can barely open your eyes in the haze of the moment. but when you finally manage to, you see her smiling down at you like you're the most precious thing in the world, like you're everything she's needed this whole time and honestly, you are. 

all those years of uncertainty, but she was always certain about you. no matter how hard she tried to push it down, it was you she needed. and now, it's real—nothing is complicated anymore, who cares if it’s anything even close to unprofessional or complicated. you don’t, that’s for sure. 

you hold her in place by her hips, gently keeping her in place before eagerly catching her lips again, cupping her cheek as you kiss her deeply. you never want to pull away, never want to stay apart from her from now on.  

all those years of pining, and despite how conflicted you felt, it was all worth it if it meant jihyo kissing you now, and by the end of the night: in your arms.  

everything was worth it if it meant her in the end. 

[biancasreign]

BIRTHDAY SEX | ROMAN REIGNS

Summary: the title says it all tbh…

Warnings: Smutttt

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Monae ! Happy birthday to you!” The waiters sung as Monae smiled across the table at her husband of seven years.

All weekend he’s done nothing but spoil her. Whether it be a brand new Chanel purse, a soothing massage, or the brand new black body KIA K5 with the red interior she’s been yearning for.

They were now seated in one of the best seafood restaurants in Chile enjoying each others company.

“Thank you guys.” She smiled as she saved the video to her phone and looked at the chocolate dessert in front of her.

“You must want me to cry again.”

“Never that love. I just have to show you how much I love you. With all you do for me and the kids. Holding the house down when I’m on the road and treating me like a king all the time. I gotta do the same for my queen.” He looked her in her eyes meaning every word.

When he meet Monae nine years ago he had no idea he was going to fall for her so fast. She was everything he wanted in a woman from her looks to her personality. He knew instantly he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her bad here they were nine years later, married with four kids.

“You’re so sweet. I love you.” She leaned over the table to place a kiss on his lips which he returned.

“I can’t believe I’m thirty three. We’re getting old babe. You’re all gray and everything.” She joked making him shake his head.

She absolutely loved the gray in his beard. It was something about it that made him look extra sexy and she couldn’t get enough of it. Joe on the other hand preferred to dye it and prevent himself from looking older.

“That’s cause you love this shit. I keep it like this for you.” He told her and she bite her lip in response.

“It adds to your sexiness.” She gripped his chin and leaned over the table so their faces were close together.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmh.” She nodded her head, never breaking eye contact with him. It was no lie the drinks were getting to her and once it was in her system it made her feel some type of way.

“Finish your dessert.” He mumbled already knowing what type of time she was on. He knew exactly how they got when they both had liquor in their systems.

The sexual tension was high as she finished her dessert, savoring each scoop of vanilla ice cream as she licked it off the spoon.

When she finished Joe payed the bill and waited for the driver to bring them to the hotel. In the car they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Joe gripped his wife’s behind caressing it in his large hand as she smiled up at him with lust in her eyes, stealing kisses from him every now and then.

From the time they stepped foot in their luxury hotel suite it was on. Joe instantly stripped her of her dressed and pulled her thong to the side. Hoisting her into the he pinned her against the wall and immediately went to work.

“Mmh, fuck.” She moaned as his warm mouth attached to her vagina and began eating her out.

“You like that? Daddy’s making you feel good?” He spoke against her allowing all the vibrations to run through her body.

“Yes, you’re making me feel so good. Keep going, just like that.” She moaned into his ear, giving him the reassurance he needed.

It didn’t take long for her to cum all over his tongue and he savored every drop of it. His licking and slurping made her wetter by the second.

“Fuckkk— I love you.” She managed to get out as he slipped inside of her began pounding her up and down on his dick. He knew his wife’s body like the back of his hand and loved being in control of it. She was submissive to him because he deserved it. He could do whatever he wanted with her body because she trusted him that much.

“I love you too baby. Look at you wetting me up.” He created space between them, allowing her to look down and see her fluids that coated his dick.

“Hmm, you feel so good. I promise you’re the only one who makes me feel way.” She moaned.

“That’s how it better be. I’d hate to have to show you that I don’t play about you.” He gripped her neck and stuck his tongue in her mouth. The two of them fought for dominance as Monae came to her climax.

“I’m gonna cum baby.” She told him as she sunk her nails into his shoulder bracing herself.

“Go ahead, I got you.”

That was all she need to hear befor she released her fluids all over him and tried to catch her breath.

“Damn baby, don’t do that.” He hissed as she squeezed around him, releasing as much as she could.

“I can’t help it. She loves you too damn much.” She whispered against his lips making him smile as he carried her out to the balcony.

“Bend over.” He told her and immediately she did. She didn’t care that they were eight floors up and her head was spinning. She knew her man had her.

“Always so fucking wet.” He lined up with her opening before slamming inside of her, gripping her waist to hold her in place.

“Babe, hold on.” She held her hand out trying to adjust to him. You’d think after nine years she’d be used to him but the experience was different every time.

“Nah, don’t do that. You can handle it baby. I know you can.” He spoke softly as he grabbed her hand and used it as leverage to pound in and out of her.

“Mmmh, right there.” She moaned while arching her back, throwing it back on him just the way he liked it. She rested her face on the banister of the balcony and took all that he was giving her. In the nine years they’ve been tightest this was definitely one of the best birthdays she ever had.

“Babe.” She called out feeing her legs go numb but he already knew what time it was. He let go of her hand and used his strong arm to hold her body up a she pleasured her. He was so close to cumming and knew she was too.

“Shhh, I got you. You about to cum baby?” He asked as he gripped her hair and pulled her body closer to his. All Monae could do was nodded her head as tears rolled down her face. Her body was going into overdrive for this man and she loved every second of it.

“Mmhmm.” She nodded her head.

“Go ahead, I got you.” His words were like music to her ears because instantly she released all over him and he followed suit emptying all he could inside of her.

“Oh my god.” She breathed out as he held her body and moved her way from the balcony, lifting her into his arms so he could carry her back to the bedroom.

“Happy birthday baby.” He kisses her lips.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Cod Characters General Dating Headcanons (part one)

+ Random and Some bits of Chubby Fem S/O Headcanons with mentions of different nationality S/O

+ What type of BF/GF they would be

Including John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Fem terms and pronouns like she/her are used for the reader

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

Please comment if you want to be added to the taglist, the next part or cod content alone.

Taglist: @marshmallowinamess

A/n: Hi lovelies! Lia here, I'm back after a nerve-wracking week of school. This is a bit short but I hope you enjoy it otherwise. God I fucking hate school. I wrote all of this in a cold room, a heat pad on me (because period cramps) and at 3am so any mistakes will be edited out as soon as I'm aware of it.

This is divided into a multiple part thing (I think 2-3?) because God knows I can't fit them all in one post because of the limited amount of gifs and photos. I'll add more to these in the future, some are longer than others because I can't think. Also because I can't write them all at once, that's a lot to write okay 😭

Disclaimers/warnings: Typical Cod things, OOC characters???, Unrealistic, Some suggestive themes and language, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Most of the content I've seen are on TikTok and Tumblr I don't actually play the game but I love the characters so much, same with any other content I have for other video games.

Tiny sidenote: the reader in this has been describe to be shorter than the characters and has been mentioned to have a soft body rather than the muscular type.

John Price

ꕥ (OH MY GOD LOOK AT HIS SMILEEE) (He's such a quokka)

ꕥ Price who literally is such a father figure, doesn't matter whether the relationship between you two is romantic or platonic. He often takes the dominant caring role.

ꕥ Doesn't smoke around you, doesn't matter if you insist he doesn't. He still won't and definitely will criticize you if you try or do smoke because he doesn't want you do end up like him.

ꕥ If there's a bit of an age gap between you, I'd say he's hesitant. Definitely afraid of what the rest of the task force thinks (He can't help it, they're basically his boys)

ꕥ John Price who wants to settle down with you, maybe have kids if you want but just a white picket fence life with you without the chaos that is war and his job.

ꕥ He only ever let's you have his hat, only when he gives it to you though. Most of the time it would be while you're out, he'd put it on your head from his. (Cowboy hat rule? I heard that in more respectful terms rather than sexual, it respectfully means that you are theirs)

ꕥ John Price who rests his chin at the top of your head no matter how much he needs to crouch down whenever hugging you from behind. Love doing it whenever you're busy doing something too. (Props for the effort because you cannot tell me he doesn't have back, neck and knee pains)

ꕥ Is constantly worried if you share the same line of work, like at first it was nothing but a tiny crush and slowly he finds himself caring about your well-being more and more over time.

ꕥ Can't help but think he's an acts of service type of guy, reaching up for things you need or better yet lifting you up so you can reach them and loves opening things for you like bottles or anything canned. (Girlies who get their nails done or wear press ons know this struggle ( I'm a press on girly)

ꕥ The kind of man who would turn on some oldies music and slow dance with you in the living room, your footsteps and breathing being the only other sounds as you smile at each other, foreheads against the other's.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

ꕥ Ghost who is such Doberman/Black cat boyfriend. Like have you seen this man? He's so tall and intimidating, one distasteful look from him and if it was physically possible that person would drop dead.

ꕥ Ghost whose a chubby chaser through and through, he just looks for something different from what he's used to.

ꕥ Is definitely a tits kinda guy, doesn't matter how big or how small they are. He'll definitely play with them in some way during doing the you know what.

ꕥ Feels like you can take him and his size better because of your plush body. Has a size kink and likes seeing it bulge a bit when he's inside you.

ꕥ You're just so soft and warm, he wants something away from what he usually feels doing his job. Not really that touchy but he gets quite clingy within closed doors.

ꕥ Likes to squeeze your thighs, his grip on them would not falter. Doesn't matter whether it's in a sexual or domestic way.

ꕥ Thinks you deserve better than what he can offer and needs constant reassurance, never says it out loud but you pick up on what he feels. (please be patient with him)

ꕥ More often than not, he thinks you're quite fragile. Even if you can protect yourself, one of his ways of showing you he loves you is through protecting you. Hence the Doberman boyfriend scenario.

ꕥ Doesn't like PDA but knows when it's necessary, him placing his arm around your shoulder is enough to keep perverts in their places. If that rando is really that bold then they'll most likely end up with a few broken bones depending on how pissed Simon is.

ꕥ If you work alongside him, he'd constantly worry about your well-being but at the same time is conflicted because he's confident that he can protect you.

ꕥ Only you and the TF141 can call him Simon, he still feels uneasy when he gets called that but when it's you saying it, it doesn't sound as daunting to him. Still dislikes in in certain tones of voice because his name reminds him of his past.

ꕥ You've seen his face, it took a long time but after that he trusted you enough to show him. The fact that you didn't find his face revolting and even kissed his scars while cupping his face was enough for him to want to marry you.

ꕥ Isn't fully insecure about his face but has his moments. (You know like the voice line where soap asks him to take off his mask and asked him if he was ugly and Ghost said "Negative")

ꕥ Takes a little while to get him to open up and little things like letting you hold him takes him a bit of time to get used to because it makes him feel vulnerable.

ꕥ God forbid something were to happen to you and he couldn't do anything to stop it, Simon would lose his fucking mind.

John "Soap" MacTavish

ꕥ Soap is a Golden Retriever boyfriend through and through. He's energetic, loyal and really affectionate.

ꕥ He's a lighthearted flirt at first because he doesn't wanna scare you off but damn does he gradually get bolder over time.

ꕥ Very hands on, touchy, and could be clingy at times unless you don't consent him, secretly always finding new ways to touch you.

ꕥ A sucker for cheek kisses, lips are his favorite but he can't help but break out a wide grin whenever you kiss his cheek. Can't help but feel kinda manly whenever you do.

ꕥ Adores making you laugh, no matter how stupid your sense of humor is he will absolutely say that joke if it gets a laugh out of you. Would be concerned if you had a dark sense of humor but will eventually get used to it. To describe it, hearing you laugh makes his heart feel full like in a content domestic way.

ꕥ Also, see the gif? You cannot tell me that he doesn't look at you that way because he absolutely would.

ꕥ Loves your weight against his body to the pint he's begging you to lay on him. You, him in the bed while he's shirtless with grey sweatpants on and you in your night clothes sharing each other's warmth with your head on his broad chest.

ꕥ Shows you silly and cute pet videos, especially the cat ones:

"[Name], look at this one!"

"Soap, we're not adopting a pet. Not right now at least"

ꕥ He was upset and gave you puppy eyes the whole time because the only time he had pet was when he was child, it was a hamster which was killed because it got sucked into the vacuum by his older sister.

ꕥ You're the only one allowed to tough his hair, he's very proud of his mohawk and will let you style it. Won't wear it out if you did something silly to it though.

ꕥ Soap who loves showing you off to everyone, loves light PDA but doesn't wanna potential put a target on your back.

ꕥ He definitely is the guy you want to take home to your family and friends (or found family <3), he's funny and easy to get along with. Very flirty with you but he'll straighten out because he's terrified on making a bad impression.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

ꕥ (HE'S SO FREAKING UNDERRATED WITHIN THIS FANDOM)

ꕥ He gives Labrador boyfriend vibes, you can't help but want to take care of him.

ꕥ Gaz who literally had to do a double take when he first saw you, he turned to Soap with that "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" look in a good way.

ꕥ Gaz who literally had to ask you out multiple times before you said yes thinking he's only doing it for a bet or a cruel joke.

ꕥ Constant reassurance from him because he doesn't want you to feel insecure about your looks because to him you are literally an angel.

ꕥ Loves to chill with you, cuddling and just relaxing. Maybe scrolling on TikTok occasionally and show you the funny ones he chuckled at.

ꕥ He has a sixth sense whenever you crave something, say you want chocolate or drink of some sort then he'd definitely being home whatever it is you we're craving without having to ask you.

ꕥ Kyle who has your Starbucks order memorized because he likes being the one to order things for you. Will playfully argue with you on who'll pay this time. (Don't even try anymore, he always wins anyway)

ꕥ Puts his hat on your head mostly when you're out, has done it the first time because it was hot out and the sun was in your eyes. He's picked it up from Price and once you smiled at him through the shade of his cap, he has not stopped doing it.

ꕥ Definitely a words of affirmation and acts of service kind of guy when it comes to love languages. Sometimes whenever he'd give you two thumbs up and a cheeky smile, you can't help but laugh a little.

ꕥ He's very thoughtful, so much so that he prides himself in knowing you better than anyone. Everytime you two go out to eat, when he gets something and know that you'll want to taste it (he knows damn well whether you'll like it or not when he tastes it) he'll bring it upon himself to order you one before you even say you want some.

ꕥ Soft snores when he sleeps, it's cute but you know damn well he's tired. Also I think he's very cuddly, like he just likes reminding himself that he's not alone and that his bed is warm because you're in it. Therefore at minimum always has an arm around you in bed.

ꕥ Dances in the rain with you and loves it when you pull him gently on his arm while your hands are intertwined. Takes note of how the the raindrops sometimes fall on your lashes while you look up at him smiling.

ꕥ Kyle Garrick who wants nothing more in the world to see you happy and smiling. His "this is the woman I'm going to marry" moment was when you baked his favorite cake for his birthday despite it being so hard, you nailed it perfectly. (Whether it's out of luck or skill is up to you)

Alejandro Vargas

ꕥ (idk how to write for this angry Mexican man but I'll try my best, love him and his megamind hairline though <3)

ꕥ Alejandro is definitely a flirt, a very bold on at that. He's quite forward when it comes to liking someone so yeah.

ꕥ He lives for it when you boss him around. That being said, he isn't picky about body type or any of the sort.

ꕥ Will teach you Spanish if you don't know any, definitely prioritizes the curse words and laughs whenever you jokingly call him pendejo.

ꕥ Wouldn't mind you teaching him your own culture and mother tongue. Bonus points if it's similar to his.

ꕥ Has Spanish nicknames for you because I imagine his own culture is important to him.

ꕥ Would hate it if you had the same line of work but will never take it out on you, it's just that it's so dangerous given the people he's involved with. (It's definitely Valeria)

ꕥ Speaking of El Sinombre, I don't think they had anything romantic going on. It's mainly platonic and the "betrayal" sucked on Alejandro's side. They definitely had some rivalry and the tension was through the roof. (Mainly because I headcanon Valeria as Lesbian)

ꕥ Can be so romantic when he tries, you can't tell me this mf ain't a smooth talker because he definitely is. Can be very blunt like in a forward way with his affection too.

ꕥ Likes kissing your wrist and feeling your pulse against his lips because it reminds him you're alive. (The amount of angst this scenario carries would be something I'm up for to write)

ꕥ Is sent on a fit of rage when something happens to you, say you got kidnapped then this man would tears off the walls of every building if he had to.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

ꕥ (ANOTHER UNDERATED CHARACTER)

ꕥ Another Golden Retriever boyfriend. This man is just loving and dotting, very husband material.

ꕥ Loves chubby women, has a soft spot for them and just likes holding them.

ꕥ He's definitely used to the insecurity that comes with the body, also doesn't get why such beauty standards are even in place. Has and would fuck the insecure out of you again if he had to. (It's in a very gentle and loving manner)

ꕥ If you hold him in your arms, he'd be absolutely living for it. He already has had a long day and being honest he hasn't had many lovers that went far so having you care in this way about him would have him wrapped around your finger.

ꕥ Worships the ground you walk on. That's it.

ꕥ Would take everything to heart whenever you teach him or mention something within your culture if you aren't of Spanish origins like he is. He just loves you so much that it makes him happy knowing more about you.

ꕥ Would adore slow dancing with you, brings him back to reality where he realizes that he has you and that you're there.

ꕥ Terrified that one day you'll end up leaving him so reassurance would be much appreciated by him.

ꕥ Definitely a sucker for receiving forehead kisses, as for giving he likes to kiss the back of your hand.

ꕥ If ever danger presents itself to you too closely, he would have a heart attack like full on crying but not in public though.

[rogueddie]

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."